"What to do When the Pretty Woman I Kissed is My Best Friend's Professor" - Chapter 51

Everything that happened today, from beginning to end, Shen Jinrong had not had time to fully process. Before falling into a coma-like sleep last night, she had already realized she was sick. She originally planned to call Wenyuan, but then thought it was just a fever, nothing serious, so she let herself drift off to sleep.

However, she didn’t expect to sleep straight from six or seven in the evening until the next morning. Shen Jinrong thought that if Yan He hadn’t rung the doorbell, she might have just collapsed at home.

As she struggled to open the door with a body that was barely obeying her commands, Shen Jinrong had a momentary expectation that the person coming would be Yan He. Yet, on the way to the door, she dismissed the thought as wishful thinking.

How could the young one be so acutely aware that something was wrong with her?

The person might be Wenyuan, or someone else, but it was unlikely to be Yan He.

But when she opened the door and saw Yan He standing by the elevator, holding a bowl of congee, that figure struck her like a bolt of lightning. Shen Jinrong trembled all over. This was the first time—the very first time that when she wanted to see someone, that person just so happened, so coincidentally, to appear.

Was it a coincidence?

Shen Jinrong, whose entire body was leaning on the door frame, wondered in her heart.

She didn’t know, but looking at Yan He’s face, her initially heavy, burning brain miraculously eased somewhat, and even her icy, stiff limbs felt as if a warm current had been injected into them. She subtly straightened her back, watching intently as Yan He walked toward her.

It was strange. She usually seemed like a child, yet when taking care of someone, she was like an adult.

Shen Jinrong couldn’t help but let her mind wander. Sickness always made people lose control of their emotions. She rarely had a fever, and the few times she did were in her childhood. Her mother was still around then. She recalled that her mother’s tone then was also like this—concerned mixed with tenderness.

She must be delirious from the fever, or how could she be having these thoughts?

The instant Yan He kissed her, Shen Jinrong’s first reaction was not to push her away, but to think, in that case… wouldn’t she get infected?

Afterward, she pushed Yan He away.

The older woman’s eyes were misty. The enormous window was right in front of her, and the morning light shone in, landing in her eyes. It was like stars, yet also like the hazy mist of dawn.

The corners of her eyes were red from the high fever, and, accentuated by the teardrop mole, the sick weakness was transformed into a delicate charm. Seeing Yan He look over, the blush on her face seemed to deepen slightly.

Initially, her mouth was filled with the bitterness of medicine, but after Yan He fed her that piece of candy, Shen Jinrong held the sweet in her mouth. The sweetness spread from the tip of her tongue, going from faint to strong, and then permeating her entire mouth.

“Is… is it not so bitter now?” She tilted her head to see the young one stammering the question, her eyes filled with panic, as if the kiss just now had exhausted all the strength the younger woman possessed.

Shen Jinrong smiled gently. She wanted to reach out and touch Yan He’s head, but her arms felt weak and sore, utterly without strength. She could only offer a shallow smile: “Weren’t you quite bold when you leaned in to kiss me just now?”

Yan He opened her mouth, but ultimately lowered her head under the older woman’s amused gaze. She cast her eyes down, her gaze fixed on the delicate, intricate patterns on the sofa, as if avoiding her gaze could make everything that just happened be treated as if it hadn’t occurred.

Shen Jinrong kept the smile on her lips. She watched the younger woman and noticed her face beginning to turn red. Having taken the medicine, Shen Jinrong had recovered a little energy. She stretched her neck and began to observe Yan He with interest.

Why hadn’t she noticed before? When the young one blushed, her earlobes and cheeks turned red together. Why hadn’t she realized the younger woman was so fair-skinned before?

Shen Jinrong wasn’t wearing her glasses, so she couldn’t see Yan He very clearly. She narrowed her eyes to look. Yan He was startled by her. When the older woman narrowed her eyes, those captivating, shimmering ‘peach blossom eyes’ (almond-shaped eyes) slightly retracted, like a cunning fox.

For some reason, Yan He’s mind suddenly flashed to the red-tailed fox in The Little Prince, and she remembered it saying to the Little Prince: “You ‘tamed’ me.”

She raised her eyes to look at the older woman.

Why was she so beautiful? God must have taken special care when creating Shen Jinrong, right? But Yan He also knew that when a person appeared perfect in every way, they must have experienced unmentionable suffering.

This led her to think of the scars on the older woman’s wrist. Since seeing them once last time, she had deliberately avoided that area, afraid of touching the older woman’s sore spot.

Yan He knew that in the first twenty-plus years of the older woman’s life—the decades before meeting her—she definitely had her own life. In those memories that Yan He had never touched, she had loved, cried, and gone through countless things. Perhaps someone had already gone through fire and water for her, perhaps she had also made solemn vows for someone, but—what did that matter?

Yan He thought, at least now, at this moment, the person accompanying the older woman was herself. She was sitting right beside the older woman, her heart full of love yet to be confessed. She was so close to the older woman, so close that—if she wanted to, she could kiss her.

And the older woman had not refused.

Then—what did not refusing mean? Was it love, indulgence, or simply an inability to refuse?

Yan He felt that none of these were important. As long as she could stay by her side, as long as the person by her side right now was herself, that was enough.

Shen Jinrong yawned. Perhaps because she hadn’t eaten last night, the medicine was absorbed faster than usual. The fever reducer might contain a sedative component; waves of sleepiness washed over her, and physiological tears welled up in her eyes.

“You haven’t answered me yet,” Shen Jinrong recalled the question she had asked Yan He while leaning on the door. She had asked Yan He why she came, but Yan He hadn’t answered her.

Shen Jinrong thought that right now, she wanted to know the answer. Was it intuition? A sixth sense? Or a rational analysis based on the half-finished voice message she had sent back?

Her eyes quietly watched Yan He, trying to discern clues in her expression, and the affection—something Yan He had always displayed. The young one had never hidden it. The love of a young person was dazzling like the sun, bringing light to her otherwise gray, stagnant life.

But would that light stay for long? Or would it only linger for a moment before moving on to find a more suitable person?

That love was clear and bright, like the brilliant red sun and the pure white moon, yet the younger woman had never confessed it to her.

Shen Jinrong didn’t know, and she didn’t dare to gamble.

Thus, neither she nor Yan He spoke first.

Yan He recalled her phone call with Li Xiuxi. She didn’t know if she should tell the older woman the truth. She was afraid that if she told the truth, the older woman would think she was monitoring her.

“Because…” Yan He pursed her lips, her delicate eyebrows furrowed, her face showing great struggle, so much so that Shen Jinrong somewhat regretted asking the question.

“Do you remember Li Xiuxi?” Yan He made up her mind. She looked directly into the older woman’s eyes, no longer avoiding them.

Shen Jinrong thought for a moment, digging the name out from the depths of her memory: “Is she your friend?” She paused, and the next words she spoke were somewhat playful: “The first time you… came to my class, it was to cover for her, right?”

Yan He smiled sheepishly. She nodded, thinking, Why is the older woman still holding a grudge?

“I asked her what might happen if a person sent a voice message halfway and then stopped talking.” Yan He felt a little embarrassed. To her, asking someone for help with a relationship question was like an ‘audience poll’ for a quiz show.

Shen Jinrong seemed to understand, yet not completely.

“We just analyzed it randomly,” Yan He lowered her head again and whispered, “In the end, she called me this morning and said someone at school saw you looking unwell yesterday, so I was worried about you…”

The last few words she spoke became quieter and quieter, but Shen Jinrong heard and understood. She felt that the young one and Li Xiuxi were probably like herself and Wenyuan: good friends who brainstormed for each other.

“Older Woman…”

Just as Shen Jinrong was thinking, the young one’s timid voice rang out in her ear again. She looked at Yan He with a puzzled expression, seemingly asking what was wrong.

The young one’s lips were pursed, and the corners of her mouth were turned down, looking as if she were about to cry: “I didn’t mean anything else… I wasn’t trying to monitor you. I, I just—” Shen Jinrong really wanted to pull her into a hug and comfort her.

“It’s alright,” but in the end, she only reached out her right hand and gently stroked the younger woman’s head. Yan He noticed that the older woman always deliberately avoided her injured left hand when she wasn’t wearing her wristwatch. “Our little Yan He is great. I don’t think badly of you.”

Yan He stared blankly at her and then saw the older woman’s eyes curve into a smile: “Besides, if it weren’t for our little Yan He, maybe I would have already passed out from the fever, right?”

Yan He rubbed her head against the older woman’s hand. The soft strands of hair gently brushed against her palm, also softening Shen Jinrong’s heart.

She truly resembled a cooing puppy.

She really wanted to scratch her chin.

Shen Jinrong thought so, and her hand followed suit. She hooked her finger, and Yan He obediently leaned in, her clear eyes filled with confusion. The next moment, Shen Jinrong’s index finger gently scratched her chin.

The spot touched by the older woman felt itchy, carrying a slight warmth. This warmth was somewhat similar to the temperature of the water glass just now, but not exactly the same. Yan He felt that anything associated with the older woman became extraordinary, as if a soul had been injected into an otherwise ordinary object.

Of course, Yan He was also clear that the object itself was fundamentally the same; it was just different in her heart. When you love a person, you feel a sense of happiness simply breathing the same air as them.

When the two of them were apart, they would look at the same crescent moon and bathe in the same sunlight. The wind blowing from south to north, moving the clouds across their paths, would also be seen by both of them.

“Do you want to sleep?” Yan He asked her, “You took medicine, are you sleepy now?”

Shen Jinrong was indeed a bit sleepy. She blinked her eyes: “I want to keep little Yan He company.”

Yan He smiled. She originally wanted to kiss her on the corner of her lips, but Shen Jinrong dodged it. She blocked Yan He, turned half her face away, and whispered, “It’s contagious.”

Her voice contained a rare note of tenderness, like a playful protest.

“You need to rest properly, you don’t need to keep me company.” Yan He patted the blanket on her, a colorful, thick blanket. The fine fibers felt comfortable in her palm. Although it had no temperature when first touched, the fuzzy blanket quickly absorbed the warmth from her hand and became her body temperature.

“Then—are you leaving?” Shen Jinrong still asked the question.

She had to admit that deep down, she didn’t want Yan He to leave, even though she knew Yan He had no reason to stay here and take care of her. In fact, she didn’t want Yan He to take care of her; she just wanted to see her and talk to her.

Yan He remembered what Ms. He had asked when she left the house. She had already said she wouldn’t be returning tonight, so she gently told Shen Jinrong, “I’m not leaving. You can sleep peacefully.”

Shen Jinrong sniffled. Her eyes were red, unclear whether from emotion or the fever: “I didn’t mean that—I didn’t want you to stay and take care of me. I can manage alone. I was just—” She hesitated, her words a little incoherent. She wanted to explain but found that the more anxious she was to explain, the less clearly she could articulate it. Shen Jinrong started to panic, but before she could utter the next sentence, she saw Yan He smile.

Yan He’s smile seemed to have an unexpectedly calming effect on Shen Jinrong. The young one only smiled with pursed lips and offered her a look of helplessness, and Shen Jinrong stopped talking.

“I know.”

“Shen Jinrong, I am the one who wants to see you recover.”

“Maybe when I have time, I’ll even go to school to audit Professor Shen’s class.”

“So, you need to get better quickly.”

Shen Jinrong wrapped herself in her small blanket and returned to the bed in the bedroom. Yan He pulled a chair over and sat beside her, reaching out to touch her forehead, and then her own.

It was her first time testing the temperature this way. She had no experience and couldn’t quite tell the difference in heat or cold, so she imitated how adults do it: she leaned down and pressed her forehead against Shen Jinrong’s.

When she leaned in, Yan He wasn’t thinking anything, but it wasn’t until the temperature from the opposite forehead accurately transmitted through her thin skin to her brain that she realized she and the older woman might be too close.

This was originally just an old-fashioned, simple method for checking temperature, but now, in this atmosphere, between the two of them, it seemed to carry an extra layer of soft, intoxicating intimacy, both ambiguous and tender.

The forehead is the closest part to the brain, and all sensations were transmitted to the brain without any loss. The cerebral cortex tried to process these complex, warm signals, but its processing capacity was limited after all.

When she smelled the older woman’s citrus-like scent, everything else seemed unimportant. All senses were maximally blocked, and Yan He could only hear her own heart beating and the buzzing in her ears.

A multitude of meaningless, complex pieces of information surged into her brain, but she had completely lost the ability and method to process information. She could feel the continuous ringing in her ears, and that sound was also causing her to lose her sense of reason.

The older woman’s forehead felt a bit hot, so perhaps the old method was effective. Yan He could feel her forehead temperature, which was slightly higher than her own.

She recalled that when she first saw the older woman, her lips were pale, but her skin had a faint redness. She hadn’t thought much of it then, but now it seemed to be because her body temperature had risen, right?

This warmth made Yan He want to stay in this moment forever and naturally grew a bit greedy for the present. She was reluctant to leave, reluctant to make a sound that would break the atmosphere. Her reason told her that she should leave now and let the older woman rest quickly, but her emotion told her, you can stay, you can be this close to her all the time.

Can I? Can I really?

But people are always greedy. When you can see her all the time, you want a closer connection with her. When you can hold her tight, you want her to belong to you forever.

This was the closest their brains had ever been, apart from kissing. It seemed that some subtle, veiled information was transmitted during this forehead-to-forehead contact. But right now, Yan He wasn’t in the mood to process that information; she just wanted to fully feel the tenderness before her.

“Am I still warm?”

Shen Jinrong’s voice rang out.

Yan He’s eyes widened sharply. They were mere inches apart. She swore she saw a genuine smile in the older woman’s eyes. This smile was real, not something she had merely inferred. Perhaps the close distance truly allowed her to perceive the older woman’s thoughts.

She abruptly sat up. Due to the sudden movement, her vision went black for a moment, accompanied by some golden spots: “A-a little warm still…”

She stammered, as if afraid someone wouldn’t notice her racing heartbeat.

Shen Jinrong hummed, pulled her blanket up, and buried her whole body under the covers, leaving only her head exposed. Her black long hair lay scattered on the pillow.

“Then—I’m going to sleep now?” She blinked, and Yan He felt she saw a hint of cunning in her expression, but it was only for an instant. The next moment, that hint of cunning had vanished.

“If you’re bored, you can watch TV or play with your phone,” Shen Jinrong gestured toward the charger on her desk: “The charger is over there. You can use it directly if your battery is low.”

Yan He nodded.

“Then—is there anything you want to say to me?”

Yan He thought for a moment, leaned down, and maintained a distance of just a few centimeters from her.

Shen Jinrong’s eyes widened.

But Yan He only leaned closer to her ear and said: “Good night.”

Shen Jinrong, blushing, clenched her teeth and added: “I forgot to say just now, don’t get too close to me.”

“It’s contagious!”