I Woke Up And My Girlfriend Was Gone - Chapter 34

Chapter 34

Zuo Yin’s stagnant heart throbbed under the influence of the alcohol, the delicate scent of irises winding through her soul. The restless urge rising from within felt like a flowering vine covered in thorns, binding her tightly, pushing her to recklessly pluck that tempting fruit.

Shen Qingzi was momentarily frozen.

She watched the girl’s face grow larger in her vision. Reason told her she should pull away, but a mysterious desire—like the cigarette in her hand—burned silently under the influence of the alcohol, pinning her to the spot, making her unwilling to dodge.

Just as Zuo Yin’s lips were about to land, a cold winter wind suddenly swept across the ground. It brushed past the top of Shen Qingzi’s head and extinguished the slender cigarette in her hand.

Shen Qingzi snapped awake.

She tilted her head slightly, avoiding Zuo Yin’s impending kiss, and whispered a reminder: “Zuo Yin, I am your teacher right now.”

Zuo Yin froze. The thorns on the vine hooking into her skin trembled.

“We can’t.”

“We’ve been drinking, but… I am your teacher now, do you understand?” Shen Qingzi’s words were somewhat incoherent. She was speaking to Zuo Yin, but also reminding the unrecognizable desire within her own heart.

In an instant, the restless flowering vine turned into a vine of unrequited, foolish passion. It retracted its thorns, withered its leaves, and released the girl in a rush of agonizing shame.

Zuo Yin felt as if she had just woken from a long dream. She stared down at Shen Qingzi’s silver-white stilettos, her mind a chaotic mess.

How could she have been so impulsive? What was she doing?!

She had become the student of the person she had admired for three years, as if in a dream. That person had shown her a broader sky, protected her, and said she was her strongest support…

But all of that was under the title of “Teacher.”

Perhaps love and admiration are the two most difficult emotions in the world to separate and distinguish.

Zuo Yin felt her face burning hot. The tangled vines were piled messily in her head, making her dizzy. Unable to decipher her feelings for Shen Qingzi, she simply muttered, “Goodbye,” turned, and vanished into the darkness.

She walked away rapidly. It looked more like a frantic escape.

A dull ache bloomed in Shen Qingzi’s heart. She reached out her hand, wanting to call the girl back, but her throat felt blocked, preventing her from making a sound.

What would be the use of calling her back? To take her home? To comfort her? To give her a hopeless expectation?

Shen Qingzi stared into the dark distance for a long time. It wasn’t until a pair of headlights pierced the night, forcing her to shut her eyes tight against the glare, that she finally turned and went home.

…

The night was deep, and the elevator was silent. Shen Qingzi stood on the left side, her lonely figure reflected in the polished walls. Her mind involuntarily drifted to the times the girl had stood beside her.

The missed kiss under the moonlight had abruptly pierced an emotion neither of them had noticed before. Both were left utterly at a loss.

Shen Qingzi didn’t know what had come over her. Why, the moment Zuo Yin leaned in, did she know it was a kiss? Why, instead of pulling away immediately, had she felt a mysterious spark of expectation?

Expecting what? To resume the “previous connection” with the girl?

The elevator stopped. The hallway was quiet, lit by a solitary, dim gold light. The mottled shadows reminded her of that night in the bar. The girl’s soft, warm lips had aggressively pried open her closed teeth. She had been reckless and cold, yet carried a hidden tenderness and care. The hand on her back had been slightly cool, but the gentle pressure was comforting.

Standing at the entryway, Shen Qingzi took a deep breath and let out a long sigh.

She shouldn’t think about that night. Since she had chosen to be Zuo Yin’s teacher, she should not have any transgressive thoughts about her. She wanted to pull this child out of her original mire, not drag her from one swamp into another.

Shen Qingzi stood on the balcony as the freezing winter wind poured into the warm room. Behind her was warmth; before her was cold. She leaned against the railing, staring blankly into the distance. Below the black sky, the city lights were brilliant, but no matter how noisy it was down there, not a sound reached her. It was quiet, like a tower standing isolated from the world.

She could look out at the whole world, but the world did not belong to her.

The moon was veiled by dark clouds. Zuo Yin’s face appeared in her mind again. She remembered saying that this child was just like her.

Just like her…

“We can’t… I am your teacher.”

The words she had just said to Zuo Yin echoed in her ears.

Really? Is it truly impossible? A voice in Shen Qingzi’s heart rose up, questioning her.

…

A rare, exceptionally clear day arrived in the middle of winter. The azure sky was lazily swept with a few stray clouds. The window panes framed the scene like a freehand oil painting.

In the center of the heated classroom sat a completely nude woman. Her skin, not particularly remarkable, was etched with faint lines, and her coarse hair draped casually over her shoulders.

This morning was a life drawing class for Zuo Yin’s year. Many students had arrived early to claim seats. Before the official start time, the room was full. The teacher walked in, hands behind his back, looking very pleased with the attendance.

“Hey, why are you two sitting all the way back here?” Xu Xu, who had snuck in through the back door, hunched over and sat in an empty seat near the back. He set up his easel and poked Yuan Yuan. “Late?”

“Mhm… just wanted to try a different angle.” Yuan Yuan hadn’t been late; Zuo Yin was the one who was late.

Xu Xu saw through it and nudged Yuan Yuan’s elbow teasingly. “Oh~ I see. You’ve got ideas, sister.”

Yuan Yuan immediately covered Xu Xu’s mouth. “Xu Xu, are you looking for trouble again?”

Though they weren’t being quiet, Zuo Yin didn’t hear a word they said. Last night had been a string of nightmares, and her spirit was flagging. She had dreamed again of being in total darkness, hearing sounds but seeing nothing. But this time, she was more panicked than ever. She ran helplessly, sinking deeper into the void. Slowly, something seemed to be pressing down on her, wrapping around her, making it impossible to breathe…

She stood before her easel, her eyes carrying the exhaustion of escaping a nightmare. Her brush dipped into the cool paint, slowly stealing the warmth from her palm. Her fingers hadn’t been this cold in a long time.

“Alright, everyone’s here. Let’s begin. Hand in your work before class ends,” the teacher announced, breaking Zuo Yin’s train of thought.

Zuo Yin didn’t dwell on her confusion. She picked up her brush and began to sketch the woman as assigned. On the pure white canvas, she outlined a slender human form stroke by stroke. Though it had no facial features or fingers yet, based on the silhouette alone, Zuo Yin realized it didn’t look like the model at all.

It looked exactly like Shen Qingzi.

“Xiao Yin, what’s wrong? You seem off,” Yuan Yuan noticed and leaned in to ask.

“Mhm, didn’t sleep well.” Zuo Yin nodded, her brow still furrowed. Even Yuan Yuan could tell.

“I wondered why you got up so late. Did you skip breakfast again?” Yuan Yuan pulled a small bread roll from her bag and, as usual, secretly placed it in front of Zuo Yin.

Zuo Yin looked at the bread on the easel. “Thank you,” she said thoughtfully.

Just like the bread Yuan Yuan brought every day, Zuo Yin had grown adapted to a world that included Shen Qingzi. Her softness and delicacy were like an invisible shield surrounding her, bringing a sliver of warmth to her lonely world.

That was likely why she felt so ill-at-ease with the impending, predictable distance between them. After all, she had done that last night.

“It’s fine. I don’t think this angle we picked is very easy to draw. Look, mine doesn’t look right either. Next time we’ll come earlier for a better spot…” Yuan Yuan assumed Zuo Yin was frustrated with her painting and tried to comfort her.

Zuo Yin listened half-heartedly. Sunlight fell on the canvas, reflecting a patch of bright warmth—just like the pure white, warm sanctuary that had appeared in her chaotic dreams last night.

But Zuo Yin’s world was a mess of darkness; where could she find the warmth of that sanctuary?

“You know the answer.” A voice spoke in her heart.

Zuo Yin’s eyes reflected the silhouette she had drawn—the one that looked so much like Shen Qingzi. The sunlight draped over it, warm and soft. Zuo Yin’s heart beat slowly.

Without her realizing it, Shen Qingzi had become the irreplaceable source of her peace. All of Zuo Yin’s newly added emotions stemmed from her. Because of Shen Qingzi’s protection, and because Zuo Yin wanted to protect her back.

Zuo Yin’s mind was in turmoil again. She wanted to force herself to forget the recklessness of last night, but this was the countless time she had thought of it today. The moonlight was mellow, making the atmosphere under the moon hazy and beautiful. She had looked at Shen Qingzi, her heart thumping, pure and free of complex desires.

She just wanted to kiss her.

The recklessness born of “liking” someone had been amplified by alcohol, making it impossible to restrain.

So, that kiss hadn’t been an impulse born of lust. It was because she liked Shen Qingzi.

Zuo Yin looked at the woman gradually taking shape on the canvas, her dark pupils trembling. Beyond the shock of realization, there was mostly the regret of remorse and sadness.

“We can’t.” “I am your teacher.”

It was too late. This late-to-the-party realization of love… she would probably have to keep it hidden in her heart forever.