Chapter 84

Qi Xuexin’s call came in. Yan Ningxi’s savior had arrived.

“Hello?”

“Yan Huahua, Little Pomelo’s on break too, right? Winter vacation’s a whole month. How about us four girls schedule a few days to go out and have some fun? You’ve seen the snow already, so let’s head to the coast for a warm vacation. What do you think?”

“Can’t do it before the New Year. Both she and I have stuff to handle. After the New Year, we’ll see.” This time, Yan Ningxi didn’t outright refuse. She glanced at the girl and continued, “If you two want to go before the New Year, just go ahead without us. If you can wait until after, I’ll try to make time—three or four days should be doable.”

“You’d better try! You’ve flaked on me so many times already. Do it again, and I’ll call you the Flake Queen.”

Qi Xuexin was almost traumatized from being turned down by Yan Ningxi so often. “Wei Kejia and I have flexible schedules. Before or after the New Year works. Even if we go before, we can still go again after. Just remember to give me a heads-up in advance.”

“Got it. Have a great vacation, you two.”

Yan Ningxi hung up the phone, and Ming You started the car. Anyway, her questions were pointless.

As for what Yan Ningxi and Qi Xuexin specifically discussed on the phone, Yan Ningxi would say if she wanted to. If not, asking was just as pointless.

“Qi Xuexin and Wei Kejia want us to go on a trip over winter break.” Yan Ningxi didn’t ask if Ming You wanted to go. Instead, she asked, “How about after the New Year? Three or four days. Got any places you want to visit?”

“A trip? Let’s check tonight.” Ming You couldn’t think of anything off the top of her head, and plus, she had a competition after the New Year with the date still TBD.

The preliminaries would take at most two or three days, and prep plus competing would occupy no more than three to five days total. She could definitely squeeze in three or four days between the two events.

Yan Ningxi let out an “Mm,” and said nothing more.

The girl’s response sounded utterly lackluster, far from the excitement Yan Ningxi had imagined. So quickly flat already?

…

Back at the apartment, Ming You barely said a word before heading into the bathroom to shower. She wanted to wash off the hotpot smell clinging to her body, and also the vat full of jealousy churning in her heart.

She understood that a woman like Yan Ningxi—prime marriageable age, top-tier looks and career—would have suitors lining up one after another endlessly as long as she stayed single.

Compared to those successful types in their thirties or forties, what did she, a college student, have to compete with?

Maybe Yan Ningxi’s repeated urging for her to apply to the TV station was pointing her in the right direction?

She only blow-dried her hair halfway, draping a dry towel over her shoulder. Entering the bedroom, she saw Yan Ningxi changing the pillowcase. She sat down at the vanity, skincare in hand, and asked, “Sister Yan, can I borrow your computer? I need to make a PPT.”

“Computer’s on the windowsill. Password’s 123789.” Yan Ningxi rattled it off without hesitation. Only afterward did she mentally scan her desktop files.

She had mild OCD, so her files were meticulously organized. The desktop only had a few commonly used app icons and a folder for teaching materials.

Only Qi Xuexin in the whole world knew she moonlighted as a psychological counselor. He Huan might have guessed after two years working together, but had never brought it up to her face.

Thanks to the side gig, she had a bit more income, enough to keep her from living pinched for cash.

Ever since joining the Huai’an Psychological Association two years ago through a psychology salon, her counseling fees had risen from two hundred to six hundred per hour. She’d earned recognition from her seniors in the field, and last year someone even extended an olive branch to poach her for lectures and training out of town.

But she couldn’t let go of her teaching career.

“Need to do it tonight?”

“Yeah. You’ll need to take the computer with you tomorrow, and I can’t get up early in the morning, so I can only crank it out tonight.” Ming You grabbed the laptop bag from the windowsill, pulled out the computer, and sat cross-legged on the bed. “Sister Yan, you don’t have any secrets on here I shouldn’t see, right?”

Like that ticket tucked into Far Far Away.

“Nope.” Yan Ningxi wasn’t panicked at all. She wasn’t afraid of Ming You discovering her weekend work, and she trusted Ming You wouldn’t snoop through her files.

“Oh.” Ming You sat on the bed in just her sleepwear, propping the laptop on a flipped pillow.

“If you’ve got nothing else tomorrow, I’ll come back early in the afternoon. How about we invite Qi Xuexin and Wei Kejia over for lamb hotpot that night? Aunt Mei’s lamb has been in the freezer for almost two months. Let’s eat it before the New Year.” Yan Ningxi suggested.

Tonight, the girl had walked in on her tussling with that man, her unhappiness plain on her face.

Ming You had also overheard her own rejection in the garage, so she hadn’t pressed about her attitude toward the man. Besides, they weren’t lovers, so there was no “must explain” obligation.

Loosening up and agreeing with Qi Xuexin to go after the New Year was to cheer Ming You up. Suggesting hotpot tomorrow night was also to cheer Ming You up.

Whether Ming You was happy now directly affected her own mood swings.

“Sure!” Ming You visibly perked up, her energy lifting. “If Teacher Qi and them can make it, great. If not, we can just eat by ourselves. Tomorrow, squeeze in a message to them and let me know if they can come. Then send me the shopping list for ingredients. I’ll be free in the afternoon anyway—might as well buy the stuff and pull my weight.”

She had Qi Xuexin and Wei Kejia’s WeChat too and could reach out. But she always felt like they were primarily Yan Ningxi’s friends, and only secondarily hers.

“Let’s go together then.” Yan Ningxi had no appointments that afternoon, but she did have an important salon where she was one of the main speakers.

The salon started at one-thirty. At a normal pace, it’d wrap by three at the latest—plenty of time for shopping.

“Sounds good. Call me when you’re done, and I’ll pick you up.”

“Mm.” Yan Ningxi said no more. She draped the fluffy robe from the coat rack over Ming You’s shoulders, then grabbed the AC remote from the living room drawer and turned on the heat.

This was the first time this winter—and since moving into the apartment—that Yan Ningxi had used the AC’s heating function. Heating guzzled more power than cooling, so the bill was naturally higher.

She scrimped wherever she could on daily expenses.

Hearing the AC kick on, Ming You looked up. She glanced at the unit, then at Yan Ningxi.

Normally after showering, she’d just burrow under the covers. Bundled up, she didn’t feel cold and could even warm the bed for Yan Ningxi. Holding each other through the night made it even warmer.

“Remote’s here. Bump the temp up or down if you need.” Yan Ningxi set the remote on the nightstand. “Focus on your work. I’m going to shower.”

Ming You nodded.

When she’d first moved into the bedroom, it had been late summer into early fall—comfortable temps, no AC needed from Yan Ningxi, and she’d toughed it out too.

What was with tonight?

Had Yan Ningxi finally gotten the hint and realized she needed some cheering up? About time.

…

The first day assisting as TA required self-introductions. Mo Jinyu had them make PPT demos—diverse styles with images, text, music, short videos, whatever—but personalized, highlighting their mindset during art exams and current uni life, to bond with the underclassmen.

Ming You downloaded a PPT template online, trimmed unnecessary slides, and went to rename the file but accidentally hit delete.

She clicked into the Recycle Bin. Not many files, shown as icons, but not auto-sorted by newest deletion.

Scrolling the mouse, a Word doc named [Student Case Analysis My] popped up.

If her WeChat nickname weren’t My, she’d have taken it as just an English word. But “student,” “case”—hard not to link the “My” to herself.

After agonizing, she restored it from the bin.

Not on the desktop, so she searched and found it, steadied her breath, and double-clicked to open.

Just half a page of text. Her name—Ming You—in modest font but bolded for stark emphasis. The paragraph below detailed her age, family relations, high school and uni info, plus personality and psychological issues.

The most glaring: “manic-depressive.”

She instantly realized Yan Ningxi’s weekend gig: psychological counselor.

Yan Ningxi came out of the shower and got pulled to the vanity by Ming You, tumbling onto the bed.

One of the girl’s hands gripped her wrist, the other around her waist—both tight enough to hurt.

“Ming You?”

“Yan Ningxi.” Ming You pressed their necks together to avoid seeing Yan Ningxi’s face—or letting Yan Ningxi see hers. “What was the real motive behind all your patience and care for me?”

After that New Year’s incident, she no longer dared ask if Yan Ningxi liked her. And with proof she was just a case study right there, what right did she have?

The laptop sat beside them; Yan Ningxi could see the screen with a tilt.

And on the screen was that long-neglected doc she’d only remembered to delete after break started.

Everyone at the association said her teacher status helped build trust with students and parents—especially as teen mental health gained traction. More people would seek her out. She needed cases to accumulate, analyze deeply, prescribe properly, help more families.

At first, she’d considered Ming You a prime case to track. But as time passed, as her feelings for Ming You shifted, she’d opened the file multiple times but couldn’t proceed.

Ming You had burrowed into her heart.

Making it impossible to think straight about her.

“What you saw is fact. I can’t defend myself.” Yan Ningxi spoke calmly. “I’m a teacher and a counselor. Spotting and noting representative cases in daily life is the same nature as teachers lecturing—it’s what we do.”

Case study. Lecturing.

Ming You got both.

Her heart ached as she said, “So to you, I’m just a tool—or a guinea pig. Fulfilling your teacher role, fulfilling your counselor role. That it? Teacher Yan?”

No answer came for a long time. Ming You gave a self-mocking laugh and let go of Yan Ningxi.

She shut the laptop, packed it away, set it back on the windowsill. Then grabbed her phone and left the bedroom for the sofa.

By her old temper—the “manic-depressive tendency” in the file—she should’ve blown up at Yan Ningxi, slammed the door, to prove her instability.

But during Yan Ningxi’s shower, she’d dug her nails into her palm, tamped down the rage over and over, replayed all of Yan Ningxi’s kindnesses, forced herself to unpack the whole thing from start to finish.

Sure, infuriating that Yan Ningxi saw her as a “tool.” But hadn’t her own initial approach to Yan Ningxi been using her to get back at He Huan?

After falling for Yan Ningxi, she’d often felt guilty, terrified of the truth coming out.

Now they were even.

Her guilt lightened a bit, but the anger at being a tool didn’t vanish clean. Maybe Yan Ningxi’s refusal to admit feelings was baiting her, tracking her psych changes to polish this star case analysis.

Her value to Yan Ningxi: just a handy case.

Faced with Yan Ningxi’s counselor role, she was a full-on “mental patient” stripped of informed consent. Theirs was an unequal doctor-patient dynamic. Yan Ningxi’s indulgences were mere compromises to stabilize her moods.

Where was the sincerity?

…

The person in the bedroom hadn’t moved from the bed’s edge since being released. The girl hadn’t yelled or raged, which only made Yan Ningxi more uneasy.

She knew Ming You’s quick-tempered nature—better she vent it out in a fight than bottle it up.

Wrong was wrong.

Creating that file had been a mistake from the start.

Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed the clothes nearby. Thinking of the girl heading to the cold living room in just her pajamas, Yan Ningxi picked up the fluffy robe from the bed and walked out too.

Just as she reached the corner, Ming You looked up and immediately stood.

“Relax, I won’t go running out in the middle of the night in pajamas just to freeze. A fool must be sick, but being sick doesn’t necessarily make one a fool.”

She walked over, took the robe from Yan Ningxi’s hand, and put it on. Then she asked, “If I keep sleeping on the bed tonight, will it make you uncomfortable? Or rather, will it make you feel scared? After all, your diagnosis of me is that I have manic-depressive tendencies. If you’re scared, I’ll sleep on the sofa. It’s not like I haven’t before.”

Yan Ningxi’s heart clenched hard. Looking at the girl’s indifferent expression, she said, “No, it won’t.”

Ming You smiled faintly. “Then let’s sleep.”

A few minutes later, Yan Ningxi turned off the air conditioner and lay down on the bed. Not to save on electricity, but betting on the girl’s soft heart. Yet the girl didn’t eagerly pull her close like she usually did. Instead, she turned her back and slept on the edge.

In the cold bedding, she pondered how to apologize, but Ming You spoke first. “I want some quiet time. Whatever you have to say, we can talk tomorrow. Good night, Sister Yan.”

Yan Ningxi gripped her fingers tightly. Words reached the tip of her tongue, leaving only one sentence. “Good night.”

The air in the room was warm, but her body and heart were cold. No one knew how much she depended on Ming You’s embrace.

It was Ming You’s relentless, forceful closeness that had gradually made her accustomed to sleeping in Ming You’s arms, to the warmth of Ming You’s embrace, and to the sound of Ming You’s breathing.

On the 1.5-meter bed, the two lay only half an arm’s length apart. She could touch her with a simple reach. Countless times, she wanted to pull her into her arms, just like Ming You did to her—holding her without any gaps and softly coaxing her.

But passively getting used to having one more person in her life had already been no easy feat. Actively coaxing her and showing love was even harder for Yan Ningxi.