"What to do When the Pretty Woman I Kissed is My Best Friend's Professor" - Chapter 104

Although Yan He had said she wanted to buy that swimsuit the day she saw it, it was ultimately just a casual remark; she knew she wouldn’t actually buy it for her elder sister—partially because her sister wouldn’t agree, and partially because she herself didn’t pay it much attention.

—But now, she could not help but pay attention.

That garment was now brightly displayed on her sister’s body. Despite the dim lighting, it somehow made her skin look even fairer. The black swimsuit clung tightly to her skin, as if becoming one with her.

The white bathrobe, scattered haphazardly on the floor, encircled her sister’s ankles like a form of veneration, showcasing her slender legs as if she were the center of attention.

Yan He could feel a blockage in her throat. The passion that had barely been suppressed by the cool shower earlier erupted again. This time it was more intense than before; after this secondary ignition, nothing could stop it. The room was deathly quiet. She could only hear her increasingly heavy breathing and feel her heart rate spiraling out of control.

Should she say something? Should she talk to her sister about something?

Yan He didn’t know. She yearned for something now to make her sober up, to prevent her from being pulled along by her own emotions, yet she also longed for everything to spin out of control so she could openly possess the person she loved.

“Shen Jinrong.” Yan He heard her voice crack, like someone who hadn’t spoken for months suddenly opening their mouth, the sound rough and hoarse. She could feel the strength draining from her limbs, as if all her energy were being concealed within her urgent, powerful heartbeat.

Her legs felt weak. She didn’t know what she should do now; she could only stare intently at Shen Jinrong and call her name.

Shen Jinrong.

The name that had already been repeated tens of thousands of times in Yan He’s heart—now, she called it out, looking directly into her eyes.

“I am here,” Shen Jinrong replied.

Yan He felt the alcohol hadn’t worn off. She took two steps toward her sister, deliberately softening her voice: “Am I… dreaming right now?” If it was a dream, her voice should be quieter, or she might wake herself up, right?

“Come here,” Shen Jinrong told her again. Yan He found that she truly loved her sister giving her commands, loved the look of her helplessness yet subtle smile.

At this moment, Yan He felt utterly blissful. All her senses were devoted to Shen Jinrong; everything she could perceive before her was related to Shen Jinrong—the rich fragrance on her sister’s body, the tear mole at the corner of her eye, her slender neck, her full breasts, her gentle voice—everything about her captivated Yan He.

The charm of a mature woman was fully evident at this instant.

Yan He suddenly thought of her driving the car, of her sitting across the table while eating—and then, of her profile and that tear mole the very first time they met.

She had wondered countless times: if Li Xiuxi hadn’t managed to get tickets that day, or if she herself had been temporarily busy and hadn’t gone to that theater, would she and Shen Jinrong have never ended up like this? At most—she would have taken Li Xiuxi’s place in class, having only one or a few brief encounters with Shen Jinrong.

Yan He felt endlessly grateful.

Fate was so marvelous, drawing a string that caused two people who would barely have intersected to fall in love. The term “destiny,” viewed now, truly felt like it was “meant to be.”

“Come over,” Shen Jinrong said again. Her voice softened, carrying a hint of coyness: “Give me a hug.”

Yan He embraced her, increasing the pressure in her arms until the two were pressed completely close.

“Are you cold?” Yan He lightly bit her earlobe, asking softly.

“I was just now.” Shen Jinrong let out a faint sigh. The air she exhaled spun around Yan He’s ear cartilage before drifting lightly into her ear, like a gentle feather brushing past: “It’s fine now; I have you holding me.”

“Jiejie…” Yan He was momentarily speechless. She didn’t know what Shen Jinrong wanted to do next—just holding her like this was already enough to satisfy her.

“Go change your clothes.” Shen Jinrong’s hand brushed against her waist, and her following words were a private whisper: “I’ll wait for you in the hot spring.”

Yan He walked almost robotically to her suitcase. She squatted down and searched her suitcase with a numb expression for a swimsuit. She flipped through several items of clothing without finding it, and a wave of irritation quickly swept over her. But the next moment, she told herself she didn’t need to rush; the night was not short, and the future was long. She and her sister had plenty of time.

Shen Jinrong sighed contentedly as she soaked in the hot spring. She did not urge Yan He, but simply changed her posture, watching the younger girl from afar. A section of the hot spring was indoors, so since it was cold outside, she stayed only in this small area of the water.

The unique scent of natural hot springs was somewhat similar to seawater, but not exactly the same. Shen Jinrong watched the faint steam drift across the water’s surface, her body relaxing with it.

Just as she was wondering if Yan He hadn’t found a swimsuit, she saw the younger girl walking over, wrapped in a towel, taking small, tentative steps.

Shen Jinrong shifted her seating position so she could see how Yan He looked now. She saw Yan He’s two hands hanging down, tightly gripping the corners of the towel, looking hesitantly at her, then at the hot spring.

“Come here,” Shen Jinrong urged her. “Let me see what’s wrong with your waist.”

Yan He shyly lifted the towel, allowing her sister to see the spot where she had been bruised earlier in the day.

Shen Jinrong frowned. Her fingertip, damp with steam, paused on the most noticeable bruise on Yan He’s fair waist. She gently touched it, and Yan He softly said, “It hurts.”

“What happened?” Shen Jinrong sighed, her voice filled with helplessness and tenderness. Her eyebrow was slightly raised, but her eyes were moist, as if touched by water vapor. Yan He suddenly thought of a phrase: “eyes brimming with autumn water.”

With Shen Jinrong’s intelligence, how could she not notice the signs? The moment Yan He’s gaze wavered, she understood. She asked in a low voice, “Was it because you put the necklace in your pocket and it bruised you?”

Yan He’s eyes darted away, but finally met her sister’s. She nodded lightly.

“Silly girl,” Shen Jinrong smiled. “Does it still hurt now?”

“It won’t hurt if Jiejie blows on it,” Yan He whispered.

Shen Jinrong chuckled lightly, then leaned forward and blew on the spot. A warm current of air passed over the injured area, and Yan He shivered slightly.

“It doesn’t hurt anymore,” Yan He said, her throat tightening.

Shen Jinrong’s eyes held a smile: “Really?”

Yan He nodded affirmingly.

The next second, her sister’s arm wrapped around her neck. The gentle force guided Yan He to lean forward, followed by a kiss carrying the scent of steam.

This kiss was different from all others—or rather, in Yan He’s heart, no two kisses were exactly alike. She had wondered how kissing would feel different after her confession. If she had to say, Yan He felt that it held a new certainty, and much less of the fear of loss.

—Although she would still experience the fear of loss.

But Yan He thought that the fear of loss would always exist, but she would no longer be saddened by ordinary little things.

Their lips and tongues tangled. She gradually knelt down beside the hot spring, and at some point, she entered the hot spring itself, embracing her sister while kissing her.

The hot spring’s temperature was not too high, only slightly warmer than the normal human body temperature. Her body felt scorching hot. Yan He wondered in a daze—could the alcohol really last this long?

Or perhaps, Shen Jinrong herself was a strong liquor.

“You’re not focusing,” Shen Jinrong increased the force, lightly biting her lip, followed by a deeper suckling.

The hot spring water gradually rose to cover her chest. Whenever Yan He felt difficulty breathing, she would lean against the side of the pool, gasping for air as if waking from a dream, and then she would embrace her sister and begin another kiss.

Shen Jinrong was intoxicated by Yan He’s haphazard kisses. She felt all the strength drain from her body, so she could only hold tightly onto Yan He’s neck, letting her be pressed against the side of the pool and kissed.

“My little hero…” Shen Jinrong chuckled softly. She turned her face, letting Yan He’s kisses land on her cheek and earlobe, and she smiled: “My little hero.”

“You must be very good at swimming, aren’t you?”

Yan He knew she was referring to the time she saved someone, but now—was this the time to discuss it? She heard her own breathing and heard herself respond in a daze. And then? She couldn’t quite remember.

“You are my little troublemaker,” Shen Jinrong embraced her, the corners of her eyes flushed red, and the tear mole became an unprecedented shade of crimson, like a cinnabar mark placed at the edge of her eye. She held Yan He and asked softly, “Aren’t you?”

Yan He replied, “Yes.”

“Yan He.”

“Yan He.”

“Yan He…”

The temperature of the hot spring seemed to be constantly rising, and the visible mist was gradually thickening. Sometimes, water could obscure one’s vision. Yan He surfaced from the hot spring, raised her hand, wiped the moisture from her face, and then sank back under the water.

Shen Jinrong held her hand, their fingers intertwined, her voice soft, yet completely different from usual: “Yan He…”

Yan He lifted her head and kissed her lips again. This kiss held a strange flavor, somehow familiar, yet so foreign. Shen Jinrong’s head was tilted back. Her eyes were moist, but her hand gripped Yan He tightly, leaving some marks on the back of her hand.

“Yan He—” “Little one.”

Yan He said, “Good.”

Shen Jinrong suddenly bit her, her eyes red as she accused her: “Good what?”

Yan He lowered her eyes, kissing her lips: “Jiejie.”

“I really like you.”

“I truly love you.”

“Shen Jinrong.”

“Shen Jinrong.”

“Can we get married?”

“Will you marry me?”

Shen Jinrong did not speak. Her eyes were unfocused; she could only see the person in front of her.

“Yan He ah…”