The Lady I Flirted With Is Here - Chapter 33

Chapter 33: Secret Crush

Aside from her grandmother and her mother, no one had ever taken care of her during her period with such devotion. Daiyu’s care was so thorough and comforting that Lin Xian actually found herself humming little tunes while lying in bed.

The fingers stroking and kneading her lower abdomen were those long, tapering fingers Lin Xian had constantly dreamed of. Fang Daiyu had run to the market to buy ginger and brown sugar, brewing a thick ginger soup that tasted exactly like the sweet tea served to guests at weddings back in her childhood. The flavor was rich and mellow; once it cooled slightly, Lin Xian downed it in one go. A wave of warmth surged down her esophagus and swept through her entire body. Soon, she was sweating and glowing with heat, and the pain began to subside. After the ginger soup, Daiyu applied heating patches, and since the dull ache persisted, she gave Lin Xian a hot water bottle to hold against herself.

When Lin Xian’s legs felt sore and swollen, Daiyu slowly massaged the tension away with gentle, rhythmic movements. Lin Xian squinted her eyes in pure bliss. Finally, after the limbs were dealt with, Lin Xian shyly lifted the hem of her shirt, allowing Fang Daiyu to rub medicated oil onto her belly. As the warmth evaporated off her skin, the pain vanished, and a rejuvenated Lin Xian started to act up again.

The song she hummed was honestly an ear-sore—just a few lines repeated over and over. Even with her saint-like patience, Daiyu’s ears were growing calloused. She teased her: “Why don’t you sing the rest?” Daiyu’s eyes curved upward slightly, her long, thick lashes curling toward her brow. Lin Xian’s heart skipped a beat. She stopped singing, and noticing the massage had stopped, she indignantly stuck her stomach out.

Fang Daiyu laughed. “The pain is gone, and yet you still want to keep working me to the bone?”

Lin Xian felt a flash of embarrassment, but her eyes betrayed a lingering sense of greed and a hint of disappointment.

Massages are just the best. Having been pampered all night, Lin Xian finally regained a sliver of conscience: “Sister, your hands must be tired, right? Let me rub them for you?”

Fang Daiyu initially meant to decline, but after a second of hesitation—who knows what she thought of—her fingers were already being cradled in Lin Xian’s palms.

Lin Xian’s palms were broader than Daiyu’s, and her fingers were a size larger. Lin Xian figured this was definitely because she had spent so much time working in the fields with her grandparents as a child. She gripped Daiyu’s wrist with one hand and used the other to carefully massage each finger one by one.

Fang Daiyu watched her strange technique, thinking she was just playing around, but before long, the soreness in her fingers vanished. They really did feel much lighter.

“Does it feel good, Sister?” Lin Xian’s eyes practically shouted, Praise me!

When Fang Daiyu complimented her, Lin Xian beamed with pride. “When my grandparents worked the fields, their fingers always ached. I’ve been practicing this skill since I was a kid!” Her proud little expression reminded Daiyu of the cats she saw in videos online.

She couldn’t help herself; she leaned in and kissed that chattering mouth.

The words were swallowed between their lips. As their tongues danced and teeth brushed, Lin Xian’s body went soft, her arms naturally winding around Daiyu’s neck. In a brief gap for air, she said something that totally ruined the mood: “Sister, kissing seems to cure period cramps!” Her moist eyes sparkled. Fang Daiyu didn’t have the energy to argue with the “kid”: “Is that so? Then let’s continue.”

…

When they woke the next day, Lin Xian went to wash up with bright red cheeks. Last night’s kiss had been more intense than the previous ones; her lips were swollen and red—so embarrassing! She only had a blurry, chaotic memory of hands touching her chest and back; wherever fingers met skin, a faint electric current seemed to spark.

Despite the embarrassment, Lin Xian couldn’t help but reminisce.

Consequently, once her abdomen no longer hurt, she nodded shyly without a hint of resistance when Daiyu suggested they stay at a hotel. At home, if something really happened, it wouldn’t be good to disturb the others.

While Lin Xian was busy having romantic fantasies about how to please Daiyu, Fang Daiyu was practicing some self-reflection: Xianxian is still on her period, and yet I couldn’t stop myself from kissing her. If we really crossed the line, what kind of “gentleman” would I be?

The golden autumn brought a touch of desolation. Fang Daiyu booked a hotel near Lin Xian’s school. Lin Xian’s eyes lit up when she saw there was a free foot massage downstairs, and Daiyu made a mental note of it. By evening, the two were lying side-by-side on sofas, receiving the expert handiwork of blind massage therapists.

Over these two days, Fang Daiyu made a small discovery: during her period, Xianxian turned into a soft, clingy kitten. She didn’t speak loudly or act hyper, but the moment Daiyu moved more than a meter away, those soulful eyes would follow her longingly, making it impossible for Daiyu to leave her side.

Recently, Daiyu had been preparing for a professional certification exam, something she found quite manageable. During the day at the hotel, after she finished coaxing the little one, she would sit on the sofa with her test prep book. Opening her eyes from a light doze, she found Lin Xian wrapped in a blanket on the corner of the sofa, watching her with shining eyes: “Sister, you look so beautiful when you sleep.”

She ruffled the girl’s fluffy hair. In a daze, she would think back to her own college days and realize how wonderful this moment was. At night, she rubbed Lin Xian’s belly. In her sleep, the girl would frown and sweat, tossing and turning. Only when Daiyu’s hand softened the tension in her abdomen would Lin Xian’s brow smooth over. Her slender white waist was so petite that Daiyu couldn’t help but give it a tiny poke; the sleeping Lin Xian would merely squint comfortably.

In the silence of the night, Fang Daiyu’s lips curved upward. She mocked herself internally: I’m obsessed.

Obsessed. Lying next to her was a bundle of warmth. Fang Daiyu hadn’t originally believed in love or warmth; she had only followed a hormonal impulse to test the waters.

If it had started with attraction to her beauty, she was now drowning in the depths. She hadn’t fallen for the face, but for the person.

This girl who had accidentally burst into her life surpassed all her perfect imaginings of a lover. Love is usually a fickle, restless thing—especially in this “circle”—and she had thought it was just for fun. But faced with a heart given so sincerely to her, the woman who was used to the glitz and glamour of the world hesitated.

Those three days felt like a dream. Even after Fang Daiyu got into her car to leave, Lin Xian was still standing in the wind, waving her hands frantically.

Lin Xian was bursting with passion; happiness overflowed from every cell in her body. Having been cared for so meticulously by Daiyu for three days, this was probably the easiest period she’d had in all of college.

It’s so good to be loved! Being in love is wonderful!

…

While Lin Xian was immersed in her honeymoon phase, she suddenly received a WeChat message from Wen Chao. Their last chat had been a long time ago.

“Going to a movie this afternoon. Coming?” She could almost imagine Wen Chao’s “cool girl” pose. Since she had nothing else to do, Lin Xian figured it was time to resolve the tension between them. She remembered that after Wen Chao left last time, Daiyu had held her and whispered: “Xianxian, I don’t like Wen Chao.”

Wen Chao tried too hard to be cool, so it was normal for people to find her grating at first. Lin Xian defended her: “Wen Chao has always been like that. Even as friends for years, we argue all the time!”

Seeing Lin Xian’s guileless nature, Daiyu swallowed her suspicions: “Maybe our vibes just don’t match.” She didn’t voice her suspicion that Wen Chao liked Xianxian.

Since even someone as gentle as Daiyu had a poor impression of Wen Chao, Lin Xian felt that as a friend, she should remind Wen Chao to be a bit more mindful of how she treated others.

Lin Xian wore beige wide-leg pants and a deep gray wool coat. She wore a round felt hat. When she met Wen Chao at the entrance of the complex, both of them were momentarily stunned. This was perhaps the first time Wen Chao had dressed in formal attire: black straight-leg suit pants with small leather boots, and a deep gray wool blazer. She had combed her deep blue hair neatly and tucked it under a black felt rider hat. With her sharp edges softened, Lin Xian suddenly realized that Wen Chao was actually a very handsome woman.

The weather had been gloomy for days. Wen Chao held a black umbrella. As Lin Xian walked over, a light drizzle began to fall. Wen Chao opened the umbrella and stood there waiting for her. Standing under the dark green and golden trees, Wen Chao looked like an oil painting from the last century. Lin Xian was dazzled—not by love, but by pure aesthetic appreciation.

Lin Xian was never stingy with her compliments. As they walked toward the cinema, she couldn’t help but say: “You look really good today.”

A light chuckle came from above. Wen Chao’s voice lacked its usual arrogance, sounding much gentler: “Do you like it?”

Lin Xian instinctively translated this to mean: Do you like this style of clothing? She looked up and smiled: “Of course! This look really brings out your elegance. Ask anyone, they’ll tell you it’s much better than that messy stuff you usually wear.”

Wen Chao’s eyes dimmed for a second before she smiled again. “Messy? Those were streetwear trends, you wouldn’t understand!”

Lin Xian shrugged. “Fine, fine, I don’t understand! I know plenty of girls who go crazy for that look. Even if I don’t get it, I respect the aesthetic.”

The movie started slowly. It featured a young actress Lin Xian liked and told a story about the emotional entanglements between sisters in their mother’s youth. As the plot deepened, Lin Xian couldn’t stop the tears. Her empathy was too strong; she got lost in the characters. As past and reality overlapped on the big screen, it touched something in her.

The death of loved ones, the yearning for love in youth, and the dreams of the male lead… it all made her think and cry. In the darkness, a hand offered a tissue. Lin Xian took it and wiped her eyes. Softly, she thought she heard a voice whisper: “Silly girl.”

When they left the theater, Lin Xian was still sniffling. Wen Chao handed her another tissue. “Don’t cry. Movies are just acting; real love isn’t usually that messy and tangled.”

To Wen Chao’s surprise, Lin Xian smiled. Her voice was thick with emotion, but it wasn’t a lament about love: “The ending? I actually think it was perfect. My sadness is just a reflection on time passing and the quiet melancholy of life. Life is long, and we inevitably meet and miss people, but every mark left on a life blooms with its own meaning and color. Don’t you think?”

“Don’t you feel it’s a regret? To love and not have it?” Wen Chao stopped dead in her tracks, looking at Lin Xian with a stubborn intensity. “Why is she so in love, yet she remains a supporting character in the Sister’s story?”

“But she has a family in the end, doesn’t she? A loving husband and children? Even if you look at it differently, her youth was made dazzling because she loved. Aren’t those memories worth it?” Lin Xian stood on her tiptoes and patted Wen Chao’s back.

“Chaochao, you’ve always been stubborn. Stubbornness isn’t inherently wrong. It can be a joy when it’s resilience. But when stubbornness makes you and others unhappy, why not change it?” Lin Xian was thinking of Wen Chao’s constant habit of saying the opposite of what she felt.

This was exactly why everyone was afraid of Wen Chao yet felt conflicted about her.

“Forget it,” Wen Chao thought. Xianxian might not understand what she was truly saying. She invited Lin Xian to dinner. During the meal, Lin Xian transferred the money for the movie ticket and the food to Wen Chao. Wen Chao didn’t say anything; she just ate in silence, listening to Lin Xian’s nagging—telling her to soften her personality and not be so confrontational with everyone.

Lin Xian was good. As a friend, she was generous. In today’s college environment, there weren’t many people who would seriously and tactfully give a friend advice.

Lin Xian was liberal; she often paid for group gatherings herself. She was also meticulous; unless a friend was hosting, she never took financial advantage of others. She was kind to everyone—to Jiang Binliu, to He Yao, to Jingjing, and to Wen Chao herself.

Once, when Wen Chao was broke, she had called Lin Xian in desperation. Lin Xian had rushed to Sanlitun for her in the middle of the night. It turned out Wen Chao had just had a fight with a new girlfriend, and her wallet had been taken as revenge. Lin Xian paid her bill and helped the drunk girl home. Since the dorms were locked, Lin Xian let her sleep on her bed while she slept on the sofa. Wen Chao had woken up the next day overjoyed, thinking she was cared for—only to realize later that Lin Xian was just a “good person.”

How ironic. Lin Xian was like this to everyone. Everyone joked about Lin Xian being a “single dog,” and Wen Chao had assumed she would never date. Lin Xian didn’t say it, but she was actually very picky. Wen Chao asked herself: there was no one in this school more suitable for Lin Xian than her.

Wen Chao had even imagined that if she ever got together with Lin Xian, she would have to fix Lin Xian’s “bad habit” of being nice to everyone. She would have to be devoted, with eyes only for her girlfriend.

After dinner, Wen Chao walked Lin Xian to her unit. Lin Xian asked if she wanted to come up for tea. Wen Chao silently refused. Then, gritting her teeth, she called out to Lin Xian: “I have something for you.” She pulled a thick envelope out of her inner coat pocket.

For a split second, Lin Xian’s gaze seemed to freeze, but Wen Chao didn’t remember it. As she walked away, she suddenly burst into loud laughter on the street.

Wen Chao, oh Wen Chao. Why bother with something destined for a bad ending?

And yet, you were finally brave for once.