"What to do When the Pretty Woman I Kissed is My Best Friend's Professor" - Chapter 91

The moment her fingertips traced down Shen Jinrong’s back, she shivered. Shen Jinrong didn’t know what Yan He would do next, just as she didn’t know where Yan He’s hand would land next. The window was closed, the air in the room was stuffy and warm, filled with the faint scent of lemon air freshener.

Shen Jinrong felt a bit lightheaded. She thought it was likely due to the air freshener, not because she was being seduced by Yan He—even though this had happened many times before.

She suddenly felt an urgent need for some ice water; only that could barely suppress the heat that shouldn’t be rising in her heart. Shen Jinrong wanted to turn her head to look at Yan He, but as soon as she made a move, her back was pressed down, and Yan He’s slightly low voice whispered in her ear: “Don’t move.”

Shen Jinrong wondered why she had actually listened so obediently and stayed still.

Perhaps Yan He’s tone was too authoritative, or perhaps she was simply indulging the situation.

Seeing that her Jiejie hadn’t moved, a hint of a smile flashed in Yan He’s eyes. How could such an obedient Jiejie be so adorable?

The bed sheets beneath her were white, smelling of the seaside, as if they had just been taken out of the dryer. The air was humid and hot; the former was due to the ocean being so close, and the latter was because of the mischievous xiaopengyou behind her.

“You’ll get a strained lumbar muscle,” Yan He lowered her eyes to look at her Jiejie‘s covered waist, gently massaging her. “You need to be obedient, Jiejie.”

Shen Jinrong only felt her mind spinning, a white blur flickering before her eyes. She began to feel drowsy. She had been driving continuously, albeit intermittently, which still required concentration, and after a few days, she was somewhat fatigued.

“It would be great if you knew how to drive.”

Shen Jinrong heard herself utter this sentence.

It was just a simple sentence, one Shen Jinrong might have said casually. Yan He felt like she might be crazy; she actually heard a hint of indulgence in her Jiejie‘s ordinary words. She seemed to sense her Jiejie‘s subconscious—she wondered, Does this count as promising a next time?

Although she had heard her say “next time” countless times, Yan He knew she was a person of her word who rarely broke a promise, and she was willing to trust her. But an explicit statement was still different from finding subtle evidence for herself. Although the outcome was the same, the feeling was not.

After an unknown amount of time, Shen Jinrong felt as if she had drifted off to sleep, her consciousness floating in mid-air, light and airy, like the gentle bumping in the back seat of a moving car, or perhaps a return to her infant crib.

She felt someone gently lay her flat on the bed, and her shoes were also taken off. Afterward, she felt the not-too-heavy quilt being pulled over her.

She frowned, but then a familiar scent suddenly wafted into her nostrils. She wiggled her nose—it was Yan He’s scent. Shen Jinrong relaxed and slept soundly.

Yan He lightly covered her Jiejie with the quilt, stood by the bed, and watched her for a while before quietly starting to unpack. They didn’t have much luggage. She set Shen Jinrong’s suitcase aside, opened her own, and took out the things she would need for the night.

She knew they wouldn’t stay here for long, but she didn’t feel too disappointed. She knew they were just here to see the sea, and afterward, they could go to Naples. They could go see Mount Vesuvius together, and they could sit outside a small seafood shop by the sea and eat. Looking out to the side, they could also see the coast of black stones not far away.

Her Jiejie‘s sleeping face was peaceful. After a while, she curled up again, with one hand stretched out over the side of the bed—her left hand, to be exact. The delicate wristwatch was still faithfully in place.

Yan He walked over, knelt down beside her, and looked down at the scar on her Jiejie‘s wrist. She had never seen the scar on her wrist so clearly. At that time… it must have hurt a lot, right?

Yan He was suddenly overcome by an extreme sadness. This sorrow surged into her heart, making it difficult for her to breathe. She lowered her eyes, her gaze gently sweeping over the scar, wanting to touch it but pulling her hand back.

“Shen Jinrong.”

She softly spoke those three words again.

Everyone’s name seems to possess a unique magic; when someone calls it out with love, it is perhaps a call that reaches the bottom of the heart.

She rarely called Shen Jinrong by her full name, usually referring to her as “Jiejie” (older sister) or “Professor Shen,” or simply “you” or “you (formal).” What did titles matter? They were tangible proof that she was getting closer to her, step by step.

Shen Jinrong was gentle—or perhaps she simply didn’t mind. Yan He realized that Shen Jinrong had never rejected any of her forms of address; she always responded to her, even replying to her messages one by one.

Yet, she remained stubbornly insistent—she wanted to find evidence of her love in these small details, she wanted to obstinately receive her exclusive preference.

And now? Have you gotten it, Yan He?

When Shen Jinrong woke up, the sky was already growing dark. The curtains next to the window solidly blocked the afternoon sun, allowing her to sleep until now. Shen Jinrong remembered that the curtains had been drawn open when they first arrived.

She had slept so deeply that she didn’t even know what time it was. Subconsciously, she turned her head to look for Yan He, only to see a bottle of water and a croissant wrapped in a white paper bag neatly placed in the empty room.

Shen Jinrong walked over and found her phone on the small table nearby, along with a yellow sticky note: “I went out for a walk. Call me when you wake up.”

She smiled, picked up her phone, and checked the time: 6:30 PM. Shen Jinrong sighed, thinking they could have had lunch together, but she had slept through until now. However… Yan He must have eaten already, right?

She sent Yan He a WeChat message: “I’m awake.”

Shen Jinrong walked into the bathroom to wash her face. She looked up and saw herself in the mirror. Noticing a slight moisture on her brows, making them look a few shades darker, she raised her hand and wiped them. Finally, she slightly raised her eyebrows at the mirror.

She had never felt strongly about her appearance and hadn’t cared much about it before, but now, scrutinizing herself in the mirror, she even discovered fine lines at the corners of her eyes.

When did these start appearing?

The warm light from the overhead lamp subtly highlighted the corners of her eyes. Shen Jinrong wondered, Am I starting to get old?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sudden ringing of her phone. Shen Jinrong walked out of the bathroom and saw the screen of her phone, which she had carelessly left on the table, light up. It was a call from Yan He.

She gave a helpless smile, answered the phone, and Yan He’s energetic voice came through the receiver: “Jiejie! Good evening, Jiejie!”

“Hello,” Shen Jinrong chuckled softly, “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

The xiaopengyou on the other end of the phone squirmed a bit, “I didn’t wake you because you were sleeping soundly.”

“Did you have lunch?” Shen Jinrong asked.

“Not yet, I just had some bread casually, and I bought some for you too! It’s on the table, did you see it?” Yan He’s voice became happy again. “I’m at the seaside right now, and I just caught the sunset! Do you want to come?”

Shen Jinrong took the phone into the bathroom, put it on speakerphone, set it down facing the mirror, and meticulously applied her lipstick. She readily agreed, “Okay, where are you? I’ll come find you.”

“I’ll send you my location.”

“Okay.” Shen Jinrong put down her lipstick, and her phone lit up again.

Yan He’s location was on the beach, about a five-minute walk away. The sky was darkening, and a magnificent golden-pink color appeared on the horizon. Gold surrounded the sun, which was already halfway dipped into the sea, while pink painted the sky on the opposite side. It was like a fleeting projection reflected onto the sky across from them.

What would the sky on the other side hold? Shen Jinrong looked up and thought that there must be strangers living their daily lives in a familiar place.

If she hadn’t come out, she would have been just like them.

She walked to the coast. The beach and the concrete road were separated by huge marble stones, creating a clear demarcation. On the left was the beach, which was even more golden under the sunset, and on the right was the busy road. The two seemed incompatible, yet they merged into a strangely beautiful whole.

Yan He was standing barefoot on the sand below, waving at her. The setting sun smiled softly behind her, tracing her outline against the light, a circle of dark shadow meticulously framing her.

She seemed to be uniquely favored by the Creator—when the sunset fell behind her, casting a long shadow onto the sand in front of her, Shen Jinrong smiled.

“Where do I go down?” she asked.

Yan He pointed a direction, her amplified voice slightly scattered by the sea breeze: “You can come down over there!”

So Shen Jinrong walked toward it.

She walked toward the sunset, watching the lingering rays of the sun, the gently rippling sea, and the sun, now a disc of red, having sunk halfway.

The path down was not very smooth. She carefully held onto the railing as she descended. First, there were large boulders, then slightly smaller stones, and finally, the fine sand of the beach.

Shen Jinrong also took off her shoes, copying Yan He, and asked where Yan He had put her shoes. Yan He walked over barefoot, took her hand, and led her to the large rock where their shoes were placed.

Yan He’s hand was slightly cool, as if it had been in the seawater for a while. But it quickly warmed up, as if the coolness in her palm had been an illusion for Shen Jinrong.

They simply sat on the large rock nearby, facing the sunset. A cruise ship sailed far out on the sea opposite them, shrouded in the lingering sunset and a light mist, making it difficult to see clearly, only its general outline visible.

“It looks like the Titanic,” Yan He smiled, squinting, supporting herself with both hands behind her.

“It does,” Shen Jinrong also smiled. She turned to look at Yan He, who happened to look back at her. They exchanged smiles.

“Why didn’t you have lunch?” Shen Jinrong asked her.

“I wanted to wait for you,” Yan He took her hand.