She Said She Has Feelings For Someone - Chapter 14

Chapter 14: Band-Aids: “A Wicked Wind.”

Lu Shuyu was suffering from insomnia.

As someone who advocated for and strictly followed a healthy work-rest cycle, 10:00 PM was her ideal time to fall asleep—a habit she had maintained for two years. Of course… with the exception of the special circumstances the night before last.

She rolled over and checked her phone. 10:30 PM.

Normally, she would be ready to close her eyes by 9:50 PM, allowing ten minutes of pre-sleep preparation to ensure she drifted off exactly at ten. But clearly, tonight was another exception.

Lu Shuyu let out a long sigh, feeling a pang of regret: I shouldn’t have arranged the rooms like this on purpose.

Two nights ago, they shared a room. Now, they were separated by two doors and a hallway. Different distances, yet the same restlessness. It was still… too close.

“Meow—”

The budget hotel wasn’t very tall; they were on the third floor, so Lu Shuyu could hear the cries of stray cats below. Her agitated mood was smoothed over for a fleeting moment. She smiled and simply got out of bed.

Changing into night-running gear and grabbing some cat treats and a telescopic baton, Lu Shuyu opened her door. The hallway was quiet, and the door opposite hers remained shut. However, the moment she turned to close her door, a subtle, tiny rustle came from nearby.

Without needing to think, she knew it came from behind her—the direction she had been obsessing over all night. Suddenly, her already unsteady heartbeat accelerated again, stealing her ability to react. She froze, facing her own door.

“PD Lu?”

The door behind her opened. It was that familiar voice.

Lu Shuyu took a deep breath, turned around calmly, and forced a look of surprise. “Teacher Xia? Why aren’t you asleep yet?” She paused, then added, “I didn’t realize we were staying directly across from each other. What a coincidence.”

Xia Leshuang didn’t notice the subtle logical disconnect in Lu’s sentences. She nodded and explained, “I ate a bit too much at hot pot. I’m going for a night run to digest.” She was in sports gear, a glowing armband around her bicep; clearly, night running was a regular habit of hers.

Lu Shuyu nodded understandingly. “That place does have pretty good food.”

Xia Leshuang paused, a faint curve appearing on her lips as she replied ambiguously, “I suppose.”

“Well,” Lu Shuyu gestured toward the stairwell, “it’s quite a coincidence. Let’s walk together.”

“Okay,” Xia Leshuang agreed without hesitation.

…

As they exited the hotel and turned the corner, they saw someone squatting by the roadside, mumbling—the classic posture of someone feeding cats. The feeder was wearing a uniform; she was the hotel receptionist. She looked experienced, and the three cats were very affectionate with her. It seemed she was the regular feeder in this area.

“Looks like PD Lu is a step too late,” Xia Leshuang said.

Lu Shuyu blinked, looking down to find the zipper on her jacket pocket open, exposing the cat treats. “Yeah,” she laughed. “In that case, let’s just focus on running.”

The April night breeze was warm. They jogged along the sidewalk by the green belt, occasional flower petals drifting onto their faces before being whisked away by the wind. They ran side-by-side for a while, but when they reached a turn blocked by stone bollards, Lu Shuyu intentionally slowed down, moving behind Xia Leshuang.

That tension—that cramped, nervous joy—was finally eased by the distance. She instinctively watched Xia Leshuang’s back. In a daze, it felt as though she had entered a dream. She had dreamt of this more than once: Xia Leshuang walking away without looking back, while she remained frozen, forced to accept their fated separation.

Suddenly, her knee struck something. Her vision blurred. Lu Shuyu’s reflexes kicked in, narrowly avoiding a faceplant. Fortunately, because she had slowed down while daydreaming, she was able to brake relatively easily.

She sighed inwardly: How long has it been since I last played out the cliché of absentmindedly hitting a roadblock?

“Shuyu?”

Hearing the voice ahead, Lu Shuyu quickly stood up. Then, she saw Xia Leshuang sprinting back toward her. In an instant, the dream that had haunted her for years—that had even been affecting her moments ago—shattered. It vanished into the wind brought by the person running toward her.

“How did you fall?” Xia Leshuang stopped in front of her. “Are you okay?”

She quickly noticed the wound on the heel of Lu Shuyu’s palm—a scrape from the ground.

“I’m fine,” Lu Shuyu said. “It’s just a scrape.”

A beam of light flickered on; it was a small flashlight Xia Leshuang carried, illuminating the injury. “Just lost a bit of skin,” Lu Shuyu said, used to such things. “No big deal.”

The person in front of her remained silent for a long time. Lu Shuyu couldn’t help but look up, meeting a pair of eyes filled with a complex emotion.

“Teacher Xia?” she called out.

“You’ve changed a lot,” Xia Leshuang finally spoke, “compared to before.”

…

Time seemed to freeze, dragging itself back two steps with great difficulty, before snapping forward again like a spring.

“Yeah,” Lu Shuyu smiled. “I’ve become healthier. You could even say I’ve become stronger.” She looked at the small wound and recalled the past. “Back then, a fall would have hurt way more than this.”

Xia Leshuang remembered too. She remembered the cold sweat Lu Shuyu broke into during her periods, the grievance of wanting ice but being forced to abstain, and the way she would knit her brows to hold back tears after a fall.

“Yes,” she nodded, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “You’ve become a better version of yourself.”

As the night deepened, the flashlight’s beam hit the ground, casting Xia Leshuang’s expression into shadow. Lu Shuyu couldn’t see it clearly, but she sensed something subtle—a hint of loss or bitterness.

She suddenly thought of the “Apple and Hot Orange Tea” from yesterday and smiled. “True. I don’t have to worry about my diet anymore. Jogging during my period is no problem at all.”

This was a test. She watched Xia Leshuang closely, but the latter only smiled and said sincerely, “That’s good. Congratulations.” Then, she added, “It’s late. Let’s head back.”

The subtle tension didn’t reappear. Lu Shuyu nodded. “Okay.”

They hadn’t run far, and they tacitly agreed to walk on the way back. Now, trying to fake being two steps behind was difficult; Lu Shuyu tried twice, but each time Xia Leshuang stopped to wait for her.

She bit her lip helplessly and walked side-by-side with Xia Leshuang.

“Did you hit your knee?” Xia Leshuang asked suddenly.

Lu Shuyu blinked, realizing her two attempts to fall behind had likely been interpreted as lingering pain from the accident. Only after the question did she actually feel the dull ache in her knee. “I did hit it,” she admitted. “But it’ll just be bruised for a couple of days. No big deal.”

Since becoming obsessed with sports, these minor bumps and scrapes were daily occurrences. She was used to them. Xia Leshuang didn’t look at her, only nodding silently. “Okay.”

The silence returned. Lu Shuyu couldn’t help but think of the past; back then, when they walked together, Xia Leshuang always had endless things to say while she responded quietly. She really wanted to be like Xia Leshuang—to ask, “You’ve changed a lot too”—but the words wouldn’t come out.

Her own transition from introverted to extroverted, from weak to healthy, were all positive growth experiences. But Xia Leshuang—if someone who was once bright, radiant, and high-spirited had become sophisticated, smooth, and hidden behind a permanent business smile… what exactly had she gone through?

“Xia Leshuang.” She couldn’t help but stop.

Xia Leshuang turned around, looking surprised. “What is it?”

“You…”

The next few words got stuck in her throat. When they finally came out, they were entirely different.

“Have you… gone back to your grandmother’s house at all these years?”

Xia Leshuang stiffened visibly. It took a long moment for her to relax, but when she did, a thread of bitterness seeped out. She smiled, pulling back her emotions, and shook her head. “No.” Then she added, “No time.”

Lu Shuyu felt a pang in her chest. Two sentences, five words—all written with Xia Leshuang’s refusal. She didn’t want to tell her.

…

“Little Shuyu! Come out and see the fireworks!”

On New Year’s Eve of their second year in high school, Lu Shuyu had snuck out to watch fireworks with Xia Leshuang.

“Happy New Year, Little Shuyu!” “Happy New Year, Xia Leshuang.”

It was also that day Lu Shuyu learned a few of Xia Leshuang’s little secrets. Like her name, and her grandmother.

“Grandma is the person who loves me most in this world.” “My name was changed by her, very insistently, before she passed away.” “My father always calls me ‘Pengyue’ (Holding the Moon), and so does my mother. Only Grandma called me Leshuang.”

When talking about her grandmother, Xia Leshuang was no longer the high-spirited youth, but a happy child soaked in familial love. That day, Xia Leshuang took Lu Shuyu to her grandmother’s house. On the desk, several sticky notes of conversations with her grandmother had lost their stickiness and fallen to the floor.

Lu Shuyu had taken out every band-aid she was carrying, cut off the center pads, and used the adhesive parts to stick the notes back one by one. She had cut the transparent, waterproof band-aids into neat squares so they wouldn’t look ugly.

“These are very sticky,” she had said. “They won’t fall off.”

Xia Leshuang had then suggested they keep some medical tape for future notes. They explored the house for a long time. “Little Shuyu,” she had said, “From now on, this is our secret base.”

And so, Lu Shuyu was given a key to the grandmother’s house. Though, since then, she had never gone back.

…

“I see.”

The night wind grew colder, chilling the heart. Lu Shuyu pulled back her drifting thoughts. “It’s too far away, after all.” She continued walking. “Let’s go back.”

“Hey, beautiful—”

A harsh voice suddenly came from behind, accompanied by a nauseating smell. Lu Shuyu’s reactions were lightning fast; she whipped out her baton and flicked it open, spinning around to point it directly at the stranger’s throat. The man was shocked into silence.

“Either the police station, or get lost.”

Her expression was icy. The drunkard didn’t dare pretend to be drunk anymore and scrambled away. The whole process took less than a minute. Xia Leshuang hadn’t even had time to react.

Lu Shuyu retracted the baton. “Having a weapon makes things much easier. People like that are cowards; if you scare them, they—”

She stopped abruptly. Xia Leshuang had reached out and grabbed her wrist. The flashlight beam flickered on again. The small wound from earlier was bleeding now.

“Ah, I must have pulled it just now.”

A car passed by on the road, its bright headlights illuminating the two of them—and the identical transparent, waterproof band-aids on their hands.

…

Before she could ask, “Since when did you have this habit?”, Xia Leshuang had already pulled her hand back. That subtle, strange feeling surged once more.

Lu Shuyu immediately peeled off a backing paper, but with a slight tremble of her hand, the band-aid fluttered to the ground, caught by the night wind.

“Oh, my hand slipped,” she said. “A wicked wind,” she added.

Then, she reached out her hand.

“Teacher Xia, lend me one.”