Tang Hengzhi wasn’t as confident in matters of the heart as she was in work and daily life.
She hesitated, she worried, she wasn’t sure whether, to Lin Sanyuan, she was someone acceptable to develop a same-sex relationship with, or just like those blind dates, someone whose extra message would become a burden, something that made her uneasy and overwhelmed.
Work was an excuse, drawing was an excuse, she only wanted a reason to stay connected to her.
Yet Tang Hengzhi was also restrained, even with good reasons, she didn’t want Lin Sanyuan to feel pressured or troubled by too many messages from her.
After learning that the post on Moments hadn’t been made by Lin Sanyuan herself, Tang Hengzhi actually regretted reaching out.
She didn’t know if she had been too impulsive.
Lin Sanyuan had a tendency to please others. Even when dealing with blind dates felt troublesome and unpleasant, she would still, at the cost of her own comfort, take care of others’ feelings.
Tang Hengzhi was afraid she would treat her the same way. She feared becoming a burden to Lin Sanyuan, and at the same time, she despised herself for enjoying and indulging in her care back at the hotel.
Lin Sanyuan was like a snail, her slow-reaching feelers were sensitive and fragile. Tang Hengzhi wasn’t sure if one wrong step would make that soft snail retreat into its hard shell, shutting out the light, unwilling to see her again.
Tang Hengzhi didn’t mind spending time and energy to slowly work through things with her.
She would always have enough patience for her.
But this kind of restraint was painful, especially when she heard her say they weren’t close. For the first time, Tang Hengzhi felt utterly powerless.
Why was that?
Even Editor Chen said the publication deadline was urgent, yet she hadn’t received a single message from Lin Sanyuan.
So how much did she resist her, that she would rather pay a penalty than come to her?
“Hey, you’ve been abroad lately, probably not scrolling much, right? Did you know, your Lin Sanyuan is trending.”
Tang Hengzhi put down her phone. Her pale skin made her eyes look even darker. She quietly watched the neon lights streak past outside the car, waiting for He Wenyu to continue.
He Wenyu knew her well enough not to expect a response, so she kept feeding her gossip on her own. “Go search Weibo yourself, keywords, stepmother, watermelon, beating someone up.”
Usually, when He Wenyu shared gossip, Tang Hengzhi would respond with two cold words, boring.
But this time, she was unusually quiet, head lowered as she typed slowly, looking oddly obedient, with a faint hint of vulnerability.
She even remembered to put on earphones before watching the video.
Tang Hengzhi watched the clip three times in a row, then almost masochistically opened the comments section and read them one by one.
The most discussed topic was stepmother fiction.
A same-sex forbidden romance.
He Wenyu could tell Tang Hengzhi was in a bad mood today and assumed it was because of pressure to get married.
She found the video amusing, especially since Lin Sanyuan was in it, so she tried to cheer her up.
“You know, if I hadn’t seen this, I’d never have guessed our Sanyuan could be this… dominant. No, not even ‘older sister’ vibes anymore, this is straight-up mom-level. What’s that saying, a mother becomes strong for her child, hahaha. And Qiao Lian actually called her that out loud. That girl looks all cold and composed, but in this area she really got Sanyuan completely flustered, it’s honestly hilarious.”
“Pull over,” Tang Hengzhi said calmly, but He Wenyu could sense something off.
“What’s wrong?”
Tang Hengzhi took a deep breath, pressing a hand to her stomach. There was a faint shadow under her eyes, and her voice carried a hint of pain. “Carsick, I feel like throwing up.”
He Wenyu cursed under her breath.
Damn it.
Someone with a bad cold was already prone to motion sickness, and she had encouraged her to scroll through gossip on her phone. Of course she would feel sick.
He Wenyu had known Tang Hengzhi for years and had never seen her lose composure like this, vomiting by the roadside.
Even though she tried to stay composed, it still looked miserable.
After throwing up and getting back in the car, her face was pale as a corpse, scaring He Wenyu so much that she hesitated about calling emergency services, just then Tang Hengzhi’s phone rang.
The owner of the phone didn’t react.
He Wenyu leaned closer and patted her cheek. Her skin was burning hot. Under the high fever, her consciousness was already starting to blur.
…
Tang Hengzhi didn’t know how she got home. When she woke again, it was already bright outside.
Rain dripped softly beyond the window. Even the breeze and rain couldn’t dispel the heat. It was late May, summer approaching, and the air felt heavy, almost suffocating.
Struggling to sit up, her throat was so dry she couldn’t speak. It felt like a lump of cotton was stuffed into her chest, blocking her breath. The urge to vomit lingered in her throat with a metallic sweetness, every breath she exhaled was dry and burning.
She couldn’t fully open her eyes. The moment light hit them, tears welled up uncontrollably, hot and stinging. Her nose felt sore and tight, and breathing was difficult.
Turning her head, she saw a cup of honey water on the bedside table, a pink ceramic mug with a built-in warming base.
Tang Hengzhi froze for a moment.
The cup was new, a Mid-Autumn Festival gift Lin Sanyuan had given her three years ago. The electric warming function was rather useless, and Tang Hengzhi disliked hassle, so she had never even unboxed it.
And yet today, somehow, it had been taken out.
She licked her cracked lips and reached for the cup, but a sharp pain shot through the back of her hand.
Looking down, she saw an IV needle.
She understood immediately.
She must have scared He Wenyu badly that morning. Instead of taking her to the hospital, she must have called a private doctor.
There were syringes and an empty IV bag in the trash.
Tang Hengzhi had always been healthy, but this severe cold had come on fiercely, making her feel a level of weakness she had never experienced before.
Half lying on the bed, she steadied herself against the dizziness, then took a few sips of the warm honey water.
She couldn’t taste anything anymore.
What should have been sweet tasted faintly like rust.
Resting the back of her hand against her forehead, her thoughts drifted.
She thought she had just dreamed of Lin Sanyuan.
It resembled their first meeting, Lin Sanyuan soaked in the rain.
Only now, that once shy young girl had, at some point in the future, grown into someone as steady as a tree.
In the four years they had known each other, Tang Hengzhi had never seen Lin Sanyuan look so determined and angry while protecting someone.
Thinking of the trending video she saw at dawn, her heart ached again.
She had no appetite, yet the hunger gnawed at her stomach, burning painfully. Combined with how much she had vomited earlier, the waves of cramping made it clear she had to eat something.
She checked her phone, it was already past ten.
Unsure if He Wenyu had left, she lifted the blanket and got out of bed. Holding onto the railing, she made her way downstairs, then froze.
He Wenyu seemed to be gone.
The house was empty of both her and the doctor, yet the large duplex villa didn’t feel hollow. There was the warmth of lived-in life.
Something was simmering in the kitchen, the comforting aroma of food drifting through the air.
The open kitchen revealed a small figure crouched by the island counter, sitting on a little stool, peeling potatoes.
Zhuangsi lay at her feet, chewing on a teething stick, drool pooling on the floor, eyes crossed, still looking as foolish as ever.
Tang Hengzhi stopped on the stairs, wondering if her fever had fried her brain and she was hallucinating.
The person she had dreamed about that very morning had appeared in front of her without warning.
It left her… at a loss.
Lin Sanyuan seemed to always shower first wherever she went, tidying herself up thoroughly.
Today was no exception. Her hair was still slightly damp, likely not fully dried after washing. Her long black hair fell softly down her back. She was wearing a white shirt and gray shorts that clearly weren’t her style.
The clothes were too big on her, hanging loosely. The shirt draped down with a soft flow, its hem long, and the shorts were slightly oversized, making her slender legs look even paler and thinner.
They weren’t Lin Sanyuan’s clothes. They were from Tang Hengzhi’s wardrobe upstairs, a simple outfit she usually paired with a black tie. He Wenyu often joked it was a delinquent senior-style outfit.
Without the tie, on Lin Sanyuan, it looked more like a girlfriend wearing her lover’s shirt.
As she lowered her head to peel the potatoes, a stretch of her pale neck was exposed, delicate and fragile, stirring an inexplicable sense of tenderness.
Lin Sanyuan worked quickly in the kitchen. After finishing the potatoes, she held one in her hand and stared blankly for a moment, then sighed, her face full of worry.
Only then did Tang Hengzhi realize this wasn’t a dream.
Still, the scene felt surreal, like something lost had been found again.
She blinked, and under the effects of her illness, tears slipped from her eyes. She rubbed the aching corners of her eyes and quietly walked downstairs.
The villa was silent. Even with light footsteps, Lin Sanyuan noticed.
She snapped out of her daze and turned, only to see Tang Hengzhi, pale-faced, tears still on her cheeks.
It startled her. “Why are you up? Are you feeling very unwell?”
She had even been crying.
Lin Sanyuan didn’t dare ask why.
She had experienced severe colds before, tear glands could go out of control, it was probably just physiological.
After all, when Tang Hengzhi walked down the stairs, her expression had been calm.
“Why did you come?” Tang Hengzhi asked softly, her voice no different from usual.
But the question was strange.
Lin Sanyuan had no reason to know where she lived.
She didn’t ask why are you here, but why did you come.
As if a word was missing.
As if the word “back” had been left unsaid.
The hidden meaning went unnoticed.
But Lin Sanyuan felt something stir inside her.
Her brain had once been damaged, losing her memories didn’t mean losing all physical memory.
When she received the location from He Wenyu and came here, she didn’t even wait for He Wenyu to use Tang Hengzhi’s finger to unlock the door.
She had instinctively touched the electronic lock, and it opened.
The sky was still dark before dawn. After entering, He Wenyu rushed to find a sofa to lay Tang Hengzhi down, not even having time to turn on the lights.
Yet Lin Sanyuan, in her urgency, had somehow found the light switch in the dark with uncanny precision.
Like she had a special ability.
The look on He Wenyu’s face at the time had been priceless.
Lin Sanyuan understood then.
She had lived here before.
While Tang Hengzhi slept, she had even found two electric toothbrushes in the bathroom, same model, different colors, clearly a couple’s set.
Normally, in an unfamiliar place, her body would instinctively feel stiff and out of place.
But in this house, her movements were too natural, too fluid.
