"What to do When the Pretty Woman I Kissed is My Best Friend's Professor" - Chapter 68

The in-flight announcement, detailing the precautions before takeoff, was broadcast in several different languages. Shěn Jǐnróng leaned back lazily in her seat, staring blankly, her eyes fixed on some indeterminate spot. Yàn Hé, on the other hand, sat up straight, craning her neck to watch the flight attendant’s demonstration in the front.

Right next to Yàn Hé was the airplane’s window. Through it, she could clearly see the runway lights of the Capital Airport now that night had fallen. Across a long distance, she spotted another large passenger plane parked there. Occasionally, ground crew wearing reflective vests walked by; she squinted, as many scenes were hard to make out clearly in the darkness.

Shěn Jǐnróng’s eyes drooped; lost in thought, she seemed so distracted that she didn’t hear Yàn Hé call her name twice.

“What is it?” Shěn Jǐnróng slowly came back to awareness. Yàn Hé pointed to the area around Shěn Jǐnróng’s waist and said earnestly, “You need to fasten your seatbelt.”

Shěn Jǐnróng gave a helpless smile at Yàn Hé’s extremely serious attitude towards everything, but she obediently complied and fastened her own seatbelt.

“It’s a flight of over ten hours,” Yàn Hé naturally took hold of Shěn Jǐnróng’s hand, as if this action had been performed thousands of times before. In reality, she only dared to do this so boldly because they were on a plane, about to depart for another place where no one would recognize them.

The flight attendant began distributing headphones. Yàn Hé took a pair, but Shěn Jǐnróng declined, pulling two earplugs out of her own pocket. She yawned, patted Yàn Hé’s hand, and whispered, “I want to sleep now.” Her voice was soft, and in the extremely relaxed environment, it couldn’t help but carry a hint of coquetry.

The airplane officially began to taxi slowly, then gradually sped up. The whooshing of the wind and a droning noise began to sound in their ears.

Yàn Hé turned to look at her. Her own hand was covered by the older woman’s, and the warmth of it was impossible to ignore.

“All right,” Yàn Hé heard herself say. “Do you want to borrow my shoulder?”

Shěn Jǐnróng laughed, her low, husky chuckle faintly reaching Yàn Hé’s ears. Yàn Hé unconsciously swallowed, and only then did the sounds near her become clearer.

“No need, little one,” she said, her tone carrying a mild, scolding endearment when she said “little one.” “Your shoulder will get sore.”

The older woman’s words were very considerate, but at this moment, Yàn Hé didn’t want her to be so considerate. She desperately wished the older woman would rely on her wholeheartedly, that she would be completely unable to leave her. Yàn Hé wanted to give her everything; what did a sore shoulder matter?

“Did you bring earplugs?” Shěn Jǐnróng asked her again. “If you didn’t, I have more.”

Yàn Hé didn’t refuse. She accepted the earplugs but didn’t put them in immediately; instead, she watched the older woman put in one of her own.

Then, Yàn Hé leaned in close to the ear that was not yet plugged and softly asked, “Can’t you sleep with the noise?”

Shěn Jǐnróng nodded.

The plane began to take off. The not-too-severe turbulence made Yàn Hé feel dizzy. She took several deep breaths but couldn’t calm down. She had never liked the turbulence during takeoff and landing, always feeling as if she was about to be flung off.

Though her feet were on solid ground, it was only a part of the plane, not the real earth. During past long-haul flights, she always had time for wild thoughts, but not now. Now, she had no space to think about anything else, feeling only that her entire heart was focused on the person beside her.

There was a small screen on the back of the seat in front, where she could watch movies, but Yàn Hé had seen most of them and had no desire to watch anything else.

The older woman beside her had closed her eyes. Yàn Hé glanced at her, her heart filled with contentment. How many times had it been now? How many times had she been fortunate enough to accompany the older woman as she fell asleep? Just watching her like this was already deeply satisfying.

She randomly selected a comedy movie and put on her headphones. She actually didn’t know if the older woman was truly asleep, but she found the sight of her closing her eyes and seemingly sleeping to be quiet and adorable.

Seeing the older woman’s head wobble with the movement of the plane, Yàn Hé secretly peeked, then gently rested the older woman’s head on her own shoulder.

The weight on her shoulder seemed to constantly remind her that the person leaning on your shoulder was the one you loved. This weight was far heavier than its actual physical mass; it was weighed down not just literally, but also with the undying love that filled her eyes and heart.

Her shoulder seemed to be getting heavier. The characters in the movie on the screen were laughing heartily, their laughter coming through Yàn Hé’s headphones. Amidst the general laughter, Yàn Hé took off her headphones and gently tilted her head towards Shěn Jǐnróng.

She controlled the weight of her head, trying hard not to press down on the older woman, and rested her head lightly on top of the older woman’s. Leaning against each other like this gave Yàn Hé an unprecedented sense of security.

Security—a thing she once thought she didn’t need, but now found so important. The person you love is sitting next to you; the person you love is resting on your shoulder. When you hold her hand, when your foreheads touch, at that moment, you feel a heart-thump more intense than ever before.

Once the plane reached a stable cruising altitude, the flight attendants began serving meals. Yàn Hé woke Shěn Jǐnróng and encouraged her to get up and eat a little.

The flight attendant pushed the cart over to them and first asked Yàn Hé what she would like to drink. She hesitated between coke and alcohol for a moment, finally choosing red wine.

Shěn Jǐnróng had just woken up, her eyes still hazy and dewy, and she looked a little lost. Yàn Hé watched her eyes blink, blink, blink, and even the tear mole at the corner of her eye seemed to reveal some emotion that Yàn Hé had not yet understood.

Hearing that Yàn Hé wanted alcohol, the flight attendant’s hand rested on the cart as she briefly froze. Before she could speak, Yàn Hé blinked and asked, “Do you need to check my ID?”

She probably looked younger for her age; she had always been asked for her passport when buying alcohol abroad, a habit Yàn Hé was already used to. The flight attendant, who was Chinese, smiled at this. Just as she was about to get the wine bottle from below to pour a drink, Shěn Jǐnróng stopped her.

Shěn Jǐnróng recalled Yàn Hé’s unrestrained behavior after drinking and grumbled internally that she absolutely did not want Yàn Hé to drink right now, at least not in front of so many people.

So, she took a deep breath and said to the flight attendant, “No, she doesn’t want alcohol, just a cup of juice. I would like some alcohol, thank you. Red wine is fine.”

Half a minute later, Yàn Hé received her juice, took a mournful sip, and cast a deliberate, pitiful look toward the older woman sitting beside her. Shěn Jǐnróng glanced at her: “You want alcohol?”

Yàn Hé quietly pouted: “Not really…”

“If you drink and don’t talk afterward, then you can drink.”

Yàn Hé pursed her lips; when she drank, her words currently didn’t count.

During the flight, Yàn Hé needed to swallow occasionally to relieve the pressure in her ears. Shěn Jǐnróng saw her frequent swallowing motions and spoke, her voice still husky from sleep. She gently played with Yàn Hé’s hair: “Why don’t you put in the earplugs I gave you? It might be more comfortable.”

Yàn Hé, however, didn’t want to fall asleep just yet. Subconsciously, she wanted to prolong the time she had with the older woman, even if it came at the cost of sacrificing her sleep.

She still had a floating, unreal feeling, as if once she fell asleep, she would return to reality, and everything before her would turn into a bubble.

But, of course, Yàn Hé couldn’t tell the older woman her true thoughts, only saying, “I’m not sleepy yet.” However, Shěn Jǐnróng had already seen Yàn Hé yawn three times in five minutes. She wasn’t oblivious to Yàn Hé’s thoughts and her heart softened slightly, so she said, “If you’re tired, then sleep.”

She paused, her voice full of laughter: “I won’t run away.”

Even though her body was utterly exhausted, Yàn Hé thought her mind was still excited. Two voices were arguing in her head—one voice said: Close your eyes and sleep for a bit! She won’t run away! But the other voice told her, This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for you to be alone with her! If you miss this, you don’t know when the next time will be!

Yàn Hé rubbed her eyes, trying hard to keep them wide open. She shifted her gaze toward the window and saw the sparsely visible lights of countless homes below. She thought: Everyone down there has their own life, right—and presumably, they all have someone they love? So, are they as lucky as I am? To be able to travel with the person they love.

She recalled seeing the runway lights at the Capital Airport during takeoff; it seemed that every airport in every country looked like this at night.

As they were taking off, she had a moment of confusion, unable to distinguish where exactly she was. But when she saw that the person sitting next to her was Shěn Jǐnróng, she suddenly realized that her heart had long since found peace.

Her once restless heart, a heart that had been drifting and lacked a dwelling, was now settled and had landed upon Shěn Jǐnróng. She knew that this very moment, her heart was in the haven it longed for—right there with the older woman.

The way the older woman ate so obediently was so lovely. She looked like she hadn’t quite woken up, chewing quietly like a little hamster hoarding food in its cheeks, taking every chew very seriously.

Yàn Hé suddenly felt a strong desire to poke the older woman’s cheek, but seeing her concentrating on her meal, Yàn Hé worried that such a gesture would affect her eating efficiency, so she refrained.

The dim lights on the plane, the occasional low chatter of the people around them, and the quiet presence of the person next to her, eating without making a sound—Yàn Hé thought that even when she didn’t speak, she was like a painting.

All these scenes and sounds together had once formed the substance of Yàn Hé’s dreams.

Everything was exactly as she had imagined.

Yàn Hé was always thinking that she wanted to be Shěn Jǐnróng’s support, to be everyone’s support, but she was still young, and in the eyes of adults, not yet fully mature. She yearned to prove herself, and this trip was a perfect opportunity for her to prove to the older woman that she could be her perfect partner.

The plane flew at an altitude of twelve thousand meters. Outside, there was only the sound of the wind and the roar of the massive engines. Yàn Hé turned her head, and Shěn Jǐnróng also looked up in time. Yàn Hé felt her heart melt into a mess.

“Is that the moon?”

Shěn Jǐnróng’s gaze went past her, toward the window. Yàn Hé followed her gaze and saw the bright moon hanging high in the sky, seemingly within reach. The clear moonlight fell upon the clouds below; the clouds were layered, complementing the deep blue, almost black, night sky.

Her eyes hold the moon, but my eyes only hold her.

The moment Shěn Jǐnróng raised her eyes to look out the window, Yàn Hé also turned her head back to look at her.

And then, a soft kiss, witnessed by the moonlight, landed on Shěn Jǐnróng’s lips.