Chapter 49 Part 2

“Where are you going?”

Le Yiqiu’s departure clearly didn’t sit well. “Fine, go—but drop me at a hotel first. The house has been empty too long.”

Tch. As if Xie Dan would beg her to stay.

“You renovated the place yourself. Why a hotel?”

Le Yiqiu threw in some pointed sarcasm. The house had been Grandma’s gift to her; if she pushed, Xie Dan would come out looking bad.

It had been years, too late to pursue legally, but needling her felt good. “Stay if you want, or cab it to a hotel. I’m not your chauffeur.”

“Aren’t you unemployed? What could you possibly have to do?”

The online drama had blown up huge. Anyone who’d scrolled the web had seen the backlash against her.

Those who knew her personally were aware she was working on a script lately.

The script was nearly done—just some polishing left. For the crew, Teacher Tu had offered to use his team’s resources. That was the perk of having a mentor: someone to show you the ropes.

All things considered, far more reliable than her parents.

Xie Dan had only learned about it from the internet, which spoke volumes about how little attention she paid.

She cared less about her own daughter than a random stranger.

Le Yiqiu had no patience left for debate. “Back to the Lin Family. My wife’s waiting for me to cook dinner.”

That one sent Xie Dan into a rage. “The Lins are a huge clan. They need you slaving over a stove?”

“No maids or servants? Why should you be the one cooking?”

Xie Dan was apoplectic. “Useless thing. Did I birth you just to cook for other people?”

Xie Dan’s anger only delighted Le Yiqiu. Rebellious daughter through and through.

Le Yiqiu shrugged it off. “My wife loves my cooking. Three meals a day? I’d happily cook for her the rest of my life.”

Hopeless love-struck fool!

The phrase flashed through Xie Dan’s mind. For the first time, she truly despised that kind of blind devotion.

Le Yiqiu didn’t care what anyone thought. She knew exactly who treated her well.

Those who did, she’d treat the same in return.

That was her way with people: she gave as good as she got.

Xie Dan’s attitude toward her determined her own. What went around came around.

“Le Yiqiu, are you going to listen or not?” Xie Dan’s tone turned threatening.

Did Le Yiqiu have any reason to fear her?

“Isn’t it obvious I won’t?”

Xie Dan reached out as if to strike her. Le Yiqiu caught her wrist firmly. “Seeing you today, I see you haven’t changed a bit.”

With a cold snort, she turned and walked away.

Whatever sliver of hope she’d clung to for her parents shattered completely.

Back when she was eighteen, she’d longed for their attention. Even right after losing her memory, she’d eagerly asked Luo Luo if her parents had sent any living expenses during university.

She didn’t lack for money; those living expenses merely proved that she still held a place in their hearts.

She shouldn’t have pinned any hopes on them. A dense ache throbbed in her chest, and all she wanted was to see Lin Xianing as quickly as possible.

Le Yiqiu delayed no longer. She slammed the door shut with a bang.

Leaning against the door, she took deep breath after deep breath. Only like this could she hold back her tears.

She wouldn’t cry over people who weren’t worth it. They didn’t deserve her tears.

Le Yiqiu quickened her steps and left. But once she was in the car, she could no longer hold it together. She collapsed over the steering wheel and sobbed.

The parental love she had longed for over so many years crumbled in that moment. She never should have hoped for such illusory things.

Yet which child didn’t yearn for their parents’ love? From then on, Le Yiqiu would harbor no more expectations of her own.

She wiped her tears dry and drove toward the Lin Family home.

She had no appetite for cooking, though. Passing a decent restaurant on the way, she ordered some takeout to bring back—and picked up plenty of alcohol too.

She needed to let loose for once, sleep it off soundly, and awaken having forgotten everything from yesterday. Forgotten that she even had parents.

From now on, they were nothing more than blood-related strangers. No matter what they did, she wouldn’t hold back for their sake.

When Le Yiqiu returned to the Lin Family Small Courtyard, Lin Xianing was already waiting for her in the living room.

Only then did she notice the flood of messages Lin Xianing had sent.

—When are you coming back?

—Don’t rush. Take it slow on the road.

—I already ate dinner. Have you?

—Le Yiqiu, no matter what she says, I’m here.

—I… I’m waiting for you.

Lin Xianing’s awkward words conveyed her worry so clearly, warming Le Yiqiu’s heart.

Thank goodness for Lin Xianing. Otherwise, how would she get through today—or the long stretch ahead?

Suddenly, Le Yiqiu wondered if she had gone through something similar before losing her memories. Back then, no one had been by her side.

Her relationship with Lin Xianing had been strained, Luo Luo was busy with her career, and Le Yiqiu must have bottled everything up inside.

Perhaps her withdrawal hadn’t stemmed from a single event, but from a pile-up of them, until she sealed herself off and became a loner.

Le Yiqiu had always seen herself as someone outwardly warm and sunny, but emotionally detached deep down—a trait tied to her childhood experiences.

With Lin Xianing, it had started as simple lust at first sight, amplified by their bond as partners. Wasn’t that fate handing her a chance?

But such feelings were easy to abandon. Through repeated encounters, though, her heart flutters for Lin Xianing had deepened into genuine affection.

Liking someone was hard to explain. Because she liked Lin Xianing, she wanted to draw closer.

Thankfully, Lin Xianing hadn’t pushed her away. That was enough.

Lin Xianing had her reservations and rarely took the initiative, but as long as she didn’t pull back, Le Yiqiu would press forward.

Standing in the courtyard, Le Yiqiu gazed at Lin Xianing through the glass wall and typed a reply.

—Lin Xianing, I miss you.

Lin Xianing snatched up her phone the instant the message appeared and fired back.

—What’s wrong? Did something happen? Did they upset you?

—Where are you? I’ll come to you.

Le Yiqiu’s heart warmed. Being cared for felt so good.

—Turn around.

Lin Xianing obediently turned and spotted Le Yiqiu’s figure outside. A visible wave of relief washed over her.

Then Lin Xianing’s brows furrowed. She rose swiftly, strode to the door, and grabbed Le Yiqiu’s hand. “It’s so cold out here. Why didn’t you come inside?”

Lin Xianing tugged her indoors, and Xiang Meng thoughtfully picked up the bags Le Yiqiu carried and followed.

Le Yiqiu stayed obediently by Lin Xianing’s side, feeling the warmth of Lin Xianing’s hand seeping into her own chilled fingers.

Once inside the living room, Le Yiqiu’s cold body began to thaw.

The heater was cranked up high, warming her quickly. Lin Xianing gently helped her out of her coat.

Then she said to Xiang Meng, “You can rest now, Xiang Meng.”

“Alright.”

After Xiang Meng left, Lin Xianing pulled Le Yiqiu down to sit beside her. She cupped Le Yiqiu’s face in her hands, her thumbs gently stroking beneath her eyes—as if polishing a cherished treasure.

She knew Lin Xianing had noticed she’d been crying but was holding back from asking, for fear of reopening the wound.

“I’m fine,” Le Yiqiu said. She didn’t want Lin Xianing worrying and wouldn’t bottle it all up either.

“Sister~” she murmured softly.

The word carried a vulnerability she hadn’t even realized was there.

Lin Xianing’s heart clenched at the sound. “Mm, I’m here.”

Le Yiqiu took Lin Xianing’s hand, shifted closer, and nestled into her embrace, laying her head in Lin Xianing’s lap.

“I thought I was prepared.”

Lin Xianing’s fingers paused on her hair as she stroked Le Yiqiu’s head. She looked down but couldn’t quite make out Le Yiqiu’s face.

Her long, sleek black hair veiled her profile, hiding the tears at the corners of her eyes. But the tremor in her voice was unmistakable—the soft sound of crying.

Winter darkness fell early. In no time at all, the sky outside had dimmed.

Le Yiqiu shifted her position so she faced Lin Xianing’s abdomen.

“To them, all my hopes were just a joke.”

Lin Xianing’s nose stung at those words. Comforting platitudes wouldn’t come.

In moments like this, presence mattered more than words.

Le Yiqiu hugged Lin Xianing’s waist tightly, pressing her face closer.

She drew in Lin Xianing’s scent greedily, letting it soothe her tangled emotions.

After lingering in that embrace just long enough for the tears to stop, Le Yiqiu finally pulled away from the comfort she craved.

She opened the bags on the coffee table. Inside were takeout dishes and snacks, along with bottles of alcohol.

“Still hot.”

Le Yiqiu unpacked it all: braised meats, duck necks, chicken feet, and more, until the table was laden.

“Want to eat some with me?”

She’d skipped lunch and cried her heart out since. She was starving.

Lin Xianing hadn’t eaten much dinner either—her appetite had vanished around those Lin Family members. Mimicking Le Yiqiu, she sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the sofa, side by side with her.

The next moment, Le Yiqiu cracked open a can of beer and chugged a big gulp before touching any food.

Lin Xianing started to say something, then thought better of it. It was rare for Le Yiqiu to cut loose—let her be.

Lin Xianing opened a can for herself and took a sip.

Le Yiqiu glanced over but said nothing. She dug into the food, chasing bites with sips of beer.

Since Le Yiqiu wasn’t talking, Lin Xianing mirrored her in silence, eating quietly.

They shared a tacit understanding, speaking not a word. As long as the other was there, no matter what they did, all felt right.

When sadness struck, bingeing and boozing—with the one you loved by your side—seemed to help a lot.

The two ate and drank without exchanging a single utterance. Soon, several empty cans littered the floor.

That amount wouldn’t faze most people, but neither of them was much of a drinker.

Le Yiqiu’s gaze grew hazy. She stopped eating and started guzzling straight from the can.

Lin Xianing kept pace, drinking alongside her.

No words passed between them, yet they strangely understood each other perfectly.

One can after another disappeared, leaving both a little dazed.

“Lin Xianing,” Le Yiqiu called suddenly.

“Le Yiqiu,” Lin Xianing replied.

They simply said each other’s names, then grinned foolishly at one another, each seeing the other as a delightful fool.

It was rare in life to find someone so in sync—especially when that someone was the person you loved.

“I like you, Lin Xianing.”

“I like you too, Le Yiqiu.”

Lin Xianing’s response brought a satisfied smile to Le Yiqiu’s face. She didn’t catch Lin Xianing’s soft murmur afterward.

“I’ve liked you for a very, very long time.”