Chapter 5

Qin Yue’s expression didn’t change. She was long used to it.

For nearly three years, it had always been this way with Shen Jianqing. From the most extreme intimacy to a calm farewell, the distance was only a bed’s width.

Guan Xiangchen had found it incredible at first. She thought friends with benefits was a one-night thing: roll out of bed at dawn, go your separate ways, and if you bumped into each other on the street, you wouldn’t even bother making eye contact.

But to everyone’s surprise, Qin Yue and Shen Jianqing’s arrangement had endured, day after day.

By the time Guan Xiangchen went through her sixth breakup, she dragged Qin Yue, fresh from Shen Jianqing’s place, to sit by the roadside. Drunk, she sighed, “Yue, I’ve figured it out. Sometimes having no relationship is the most stable relationship.”

Qin Yue couldn’t remember how she’d responded. She seemed to have drunk the first bottle of her life, caught sight of a shooting star in a city where stars were hard to find, and then gotten drunk.

……

Thoughts settling back, Qin Yue picked up the hairpin that had fallen near her feet and placed it on the nightstand. “I put essential oil in the bathwater. You can soak for a while.”

Shen Jianqing murmured a soft “mm” and let her gaze drift back.

It swept across the green hairpin on the nightstand, and the waves inside her, already settling, surged violently for an instant.

All night, that hairpin had been gripped between her teeth. She couldn’t drop it, couldn’t bite down. No matter how intense the emotion, she could only hold on with the scattered remains of her willpower. The sensation…

Shen Jianqing lowered her head, fingers gripping her bangs, and exhaled long. That was incredible.

Qin Yue, already heading for the door, didn’t know why. At the sound of the sigh she instinctively stopped. “What’s wrong?”

Shen Jianqing rubbed her temple with a knuckle and looked up. “Nothing. Just a passing thought.”

“Thought about what?” Qin Yue asked.

Shen Jianqing flicked the lighter on and off twice before lifting her eyes to Qin Yue. Deliberately slow, she said, “Master Qin truly has skilled hands.”

Shen Jianqing drew out the word “hands” to let the double meaning ring loud and clear.

Qin Yue stood at the edge of the bed, expression unbothered. “You flatter me.”

Shen Jianqing raised an eyebrow. Master Qin really is Master Qin. When it’s her turn to perform, she won’t give an inch.

If not for that, she probably wouldn’t have ended up lying under a girl this young, this permanently under the weather, for so long.

Getting it for free, heh. Not a bad deal.

Shen Jianqing tossed the lighter onto the nightstand, got up, and walked to the bathroom.

As she passed Qin Yue, she raised a jade-white arm and brushed a fingertip across Qin Yue’s collarbone, tugging at her collar. “Be safe on the way.” Then she glided past.

Qin Yue stood still, her gaze following Shen Jianqing’s bare back. Only when Shen Jianqing reached the bathroom door and was about to step in did Qin Yue turn to leave. At that exact moment, lightning split the night again, dragging grotesque shadows into wild dances across the wall.

The sudden, eerie spectacle jolted Shen Jianqing’s senses. Her heart lurched. She spun around and caught the sight of Qin Yue’s profile, divided between light and shadow.

The ambiguous flush had entirely faded from her face. All that remained was a heart-stopping pallor, crashing against Shen Jianqing’s still-unsettled heart. Her body moved faster than her mind. “Can you make it back alone?”

Qin Yue’s steps paused. She looked at Shen Jianqing as if she hadn’t understood.

Only after the thunder passed and dense raindrops began to fall did Qin Yue’s pressed lips finally move, curving visibly upward.

“I can,” Qin Yue said quietly, her voice the same one that had whispered in Shen Jianqing’s ear not long ago.

Shen Jianqing drew in a soft breath and gripped the door handle. “Then hurry. There’s an umbrella in the cabinet by the door.”

Qin Yue said, “Alright.”

Qin Yue answered promptly and left just as quickly, leaving Shen Jianqing standing in the bathroom doorway, the faint floral scent from the oil wrapping around her breath. She didn’t move for a long time.

In all the time she’d known Qin Yue, this seemed to be the first time she’d heard her speak without hesitation. It was probably also the first time she’d seen her smile, though it lacked the brightness and lightness a girl her age should have.

But…

It was a little clingy.

Qin Yue returned home well past midnight.

Guan Xiangchen was hobbling up the stairs, hand pressed to her waist, when she spotted the drenched Qin Yue and froze in shock. “Yue, you just got back?”

“Mm.” Qin Yue fished out her keys and opened the door.

Guan Xiangchen cupped her hands in mock salute. “Youth. Truly impressive. Would rather come home a drowned rat…”

Cough! Cough! Cough… Qin Yue suddenly erupted into violent coughing.

Guan Xiangchen’s tongue twisted mid-sentence. “I mean a drowned… weakling! Get inside and take a hot shower. I’ll find you some medicine!” Guan Xiangchen sprinted to her own door.

They lived next to each other, both in tiny studio apartments of about twenty square meters.

Come to think of it, Qin Yue’s place was one Guan Xiangchen had found for her. She’d joined Lead Science a year before Qin Yue and started out calling herself the senior, fussing over Qin Yue at every turn. Over time, the roles reversed: Qin Yue woke her up for work, fed her meals, and occasionally cleaned up after her work messes.

She knew she could never repay this. So she didn’t. Instead, she focused on the one thing that mattered most: Qin Yue’s health.

Their job was piece-rate, with rotating shifts that wrecked any semblance of a normal schedule. During crunch times it was brutal.

And Qin Yue never pushed back. She took whatever came and often worked ten-plus hours without a break. Guan Xiangchen was always afraid she’d work herself to death one day, especially since her health was already poor.

Just in case, she kept emergency medication stocked at home year-round.

After her shower and medicine, Qin Yue held a cup of warm water and sat in her chair. “You still have a night shift. Why are you back so early?”

Guan Xiangchen sat at the foot of her bed playing a game, feet perched on her knees, bouncing. “Threw out my back hauling boxes. The team leader didn’t want to deal with it, so he sent me home.”

“Bad?”

“Manageable. Hurts a bit when I bend.”

“Don’t tough it out.” Qin Yue set down the cup and went to the drawer to find medicated patches.

Guan Xiangchen looked up at the sealed bag in Qin Yue’s hand and winced. “Why do you have old-people stuff in your room? Not even proper packaging. Did you buy it from some quack?!”

The more she thought about it, the more alarming it got. “Yue, are you so broke you’re buying unlicensed medicine now? Want me to mooch fewer meals this month??”

Qin Yue tore open a patch and motioned for Guan Xiangchen to lie down. “I’ve been doing a lot of overtime. My shoulders were hurting. Got it at the Chinese medicine hospital. It’s legitimate.”

“Oh.” Guan Xiangchen twisted and caught her back, sucking in a breath through her teeth. “Gentle! I have low pain tolerance!”

Qin Yue ignored the theatrics. She pinned one leg over the bed edge and carefully applied the patch, then rubbed her palms warm and massaged the area in slow, steady circles.

Half in pain, half in relief, Guan Xiangchen’s groans came out thoroughly distorted.

When drowsiness finally won, Guan Xiangchen couldn’t be bothered to go back to her own room. Like so many times before when she’d nursed a sick Qin Yue, she made a floor bed in Qin Yue’s room.

Qin Yue never drew the curtains. Light and shadow from the wind and rain spilled in. Guan Xiangchen suddenly found herself wide awake.

“A-Yue, you asleep?” Guan Xiangchen whispered.

Qin Yue lay on her side, voice low. “No.”

“Chat for a bit?”

“About what?”

“Hmm.” Guan Xiangchen thought for a moment, sat up, and hugged her knees. “How did you and that teacher meet?”

Qin Yue’s arm, pillowed under her face, shifted. Her fingers curled, gently gripping the hair behind her head. “Curious?”

Guan Xiangchen nodded rapidly. “Obviously! I mean, you look flashy, but you really don’t seem like someone who goes around attracting butterflies. So my guess is she came after you, right?”

Guan Xiangchen was supremely confident.

But Qin Yue blinked in the hazy dark and said, “Actually, no.”

“No way!”

“Really.”

Qin Yue rolled onto her back and stared at the outline of the lampshade on the ceiling. She coughed softly into the quiet and said, “I followed her for a long time before she finally couldn’t take it and turned around.”