When Spring Awakens - Chapter 3

Wen Wanbing turned over, her gaze dropping to her phone as she clicked into Fu Junxue’s contact card, intending to add a note. But her thoughts drifted away uncontrollably.

She was torn over whether or not to sign up for the diving course.

She zoned out like this for a long while until her eyelids grew heavy and gradually closed.

The air conditioning had been running for too long, making the air dry, and the night wasn’t particularly hot. So Wen Wanbing had set up an electric fan by her bed. The steady hum of the fan, mingled with the intermittent chorus of cicadas and frogs outside, and the occasional roar of a passing train, made her sleep fitfully.

In the middle of the night, Wen Wanbing woke groggily, struggled to sit up, and walked to the balcony.

The balcony window was open, and the wind rushed in, lifting the curtains. Despite it being summer, the wind was bitingly cold. Wen Wanbing turned her head and froze in place.

Moonlight spilled into the room like water, bathing a gentle and beautiful woman in its glow. She was enveloped in a halo of silvery light, her skin so pale it seemed almost translucent.

She was too thin from the side, her waist looked like a fragile sliver, as delicate as the withered spider plant at her feet, appearing brittle and vulnerable.

A strange, complex feeling sharpened into a piercing beak, pecking painfully at Wen Wanbing’s heart.

“Sis!” The word rolled out of her throat, carrying a sharp, sour ache that choked her, making it impossible to utter another syllable.

Wen Wanbing cautiously stepped forward and reached out, her palm brushing against the woman’s back.

Just as she was about to make contact, a distant yet near horn sounded, carried by the wind. A rust-colored stain spread from the hem of the white dress, cracking and transforming into countless withered petals. They were swept up by the wind, brushed past her fingertips, and crumbled into dust, scattering into the air.

“No!”

Wen Wanbing’s heart lurched violently, her pupils dilating as she stared blankly at her trembling hand, frozen mid-air. She was paralyzed by despair, unable to move.

Outside was an endless expanse of darkness, no moonlight, no stars, just a thick, suffocating fog that crept from her fingers, winding around her body, tighter and tighter, before abruptly dragging her into a bottomless abyss.

Wen Wanbing jolted awake with a start.

Another dream like this.

The lingering pain and the suffocating guilt felt so vivid, so real. The prolonged agony clung to her like damp post-rain air, impossible to shake off.

Wen Wanbing covered her eyes with her forearm, feeling the wetness at the corners slowly spread.

The oppressive weight faded at an excruciatingly slow pace. She grabbed her phone and pulled up Fu Junxue’s WeChat.

icey: [How do I sign up for the course?]

[Snowflake]: [Made up your mind?]

Less than two minutes apart.

4:18 a.m., just as dawn was breaking. A hazy light filtered through the curtains, casting a silvery-gray veil over the room.

She hadn’t expected Fu Junxue to reply so quickly. After sending a simple “Mm,” Wen Wanbing thought for a moment and added another question.

icey: [Did you not sleep, or did you just wake up?]

Almost simultaneously, Fu Junxue sent a screenshot of the “AIDA Medical Survey.”

[Snowflake]: [Check if you have any of the listed medical conditions. Are you afraid of water? Can you swim 200 meters nonstop independently?]

Wen Wanbing glanced at the image, then tiptoed to the living room to pour herself some water. She replied succinctly: [No, no, yes.]

Fu Junxue quickly sent a voice message.

Afraid of disturbing He Xiuying and Wen Xing, Wen Wanbing turned the volume to its lowest and raised her phone, pressing the receiver to her ear.

“Was asleep, but you woke me up~”

Perhaps still groggy, Fu Junxue’s voice lacked strength, her tone light and drawn out at the end, carrying a hint of playful complaint that bordered on coquettish.

It felt like a moist tongue licking her ear, making it itch.

Wen Wanbing moved the phone away, poured a glass of water from the kettle, drank most of it, and replied: [Sorry.]

“If you’re sorry, find time to come to Solo. Let’s talk in person.”

Another voice message. Fu Junxue seemed more awake now, her tone much more serious.

Wen Wanbing inexplicably felt like a student being called into the teacher’s office for a chat.

Icey: [About what?]

The first three seconds of the new voice message were filled with Fu Junxue’s cheerful laughter: “About money, of course. Aren’t you going to pay for the class?”

From the thank-you gift red envelope to the registration fee, their interactions never seemed to stray far from money.

This woman really is obsessed with money, Wen Wanbing thought, figuring she could just pay online. She had typed half a response when Fu Junxue, as if she’d planted a bug in her stomach, sent another message: “Just kidding. We’ll talk about the course schedule and time planning, mainly for Little Star. It’s easier to discuss in person.”

Wen Wanbing thought it over and could only guarantee she wouldn’t work overtime on Friday. She replied: [Is 7 p.m. on Friday okay?]

[Snowflake]: “Mhm~ Don’t stand me up~”

Wen Wanbing set her phone down and poured another glass of water.

At 6:15 p.m. on Friday, Wen Wanbing saved her documents and prepared to leave work.

Hai Ling finished her yogurt, kicked off the ground to slide her chair back, and tossed the crumpled carton into the trash. She tilted her head, watching Wen Wanbing tidy her desk, then shut down her computer and said, “Shui Shui, wait for me. I’ll walk you home.”

“I have something to do first. Not going straight home,” Wen Wanbing declined politely.

Hai Ling paused, recalling Wen Wanbing mentioning the pearls were a gift from someone last night, and suddenly understood. “Oh! You’re dating someone? Got a date, huh? Right?”

“No,” Wen Wanbing denied.

Hai Ling’s exaggerated expression relaxed, and she teased, “Then there’s still a chance for your admirers.”

Wen Wanbing smiled but didn’t engage. She pushed her chair under the desk, picked up her bag, and said, “Heading out first.”

It took about twenty minutes by subway from the company to Solo Diving Center, arriving just before seven.

Wen Wanbing messaged Fu Junxue: [I’m here.]

The song playing in her earbuds was interrupted by Fu Junxue’s voice message: “I’ll be there in about ten minutes. Wait for me in the lounge.”

Wen Wanbing replied “Okay,” checked in at the front desk, and entered the lounge.

Last time, her attention had been entirely on Wen Xing. Now, she noticed a water bar to the left, staffed by two young women leaning against the counter, chatting.

“Did you hear? Fu Junxue is going to be a substitute instructor.”

Wen Wanbing sat on a high stool, overhearing this as she absentmindedly scanned the drink menu, her ears unconsciously perking up.

The two were engrossed in their conversation and didn’t notice her.

“Ah, she’s so pretty! Her classes are going to be packed.”

“Tch, isn’t everyone in that line of work good-looking?”

“What line of work?”

“They say it’s a job where she accompanies people in relationships.”

“No wonder she always dresses like that. I’ve seen people give her jewelry several times. Hey, do you think she swings both ways?”

“Just eat if you have the money. Put nicely, it’s called accompanying someone in love, but to put it bluntly, it’s actually,”

“A medium-sweet black tea lemonade,” Wen Yanbing coldly interrupted their conversation.

After making the drink, the two stopped talking about Fu Junxue and moved on to other gossip, like how child star Gu Yuemi had blossomed into a striking resemblance of Wei Xun, the once most glamorous star in the entertainment industry, and must surely have a wealthy backer given her excessive resources.

Wen Yanbing’s attention lingered on the earlier gossip, the tangled thoughts it provoked making her wait with growing impatience.

After finishing about a third of her black tea lemonade, Wen Yanbing received a message from Fu Junxue saying she was almost there. Instinctively, she glanced toward the entrance and indeed caught sight of Fu Junxue.

She wore a sage-gray satin slip dress that accentuated her graceful curves, her long, wavy hair cascading over one shoulder. Something dangled from her ears, sparkling and eye-catching.

A woman in a formal suit beside her handed her something and a folder, exchanged a few words, then turned to leave.

Soon after, Fu Junxue walked over and perched herself on the high stool to Wen Yanbing’s right.

The stool was close enough that the overhead bar light cast a glow on her face, allowing Wen Yanbing to even see the fine down on her cheeks shimmering faintly.

Wen Yanbing noticed the small, diamond-studded snowflake earring dangling from her ear.

Her gaze drifted lower as Fu Junxue’s red lips parted: “The traffic was terrible, and I got held up with something.”

Her voice carried a slight rasp.

Wen Yanbing glanced at the small shark clip and light blue folder Fu Junxue had placed on the counter, recalling the earlier gossip. Uncomfortable, she lowered her head and took a sip of her black tea lemonade.

The half-sugar lemonade was tart, the black tea slightly bitter.

“Did I keep you waiting too long? Are you mad?” Fu Junxue asked softly, like a lover’s whisper.

Wen Yanbing belatedly replied, “Not too long,” then continued sipping from her cup.

Fu Junxue propped her chin in her hand, her gaze fixed on the black tea lemonade. “Is it good?”

Wen Yanbing released the straw. “Haven’t you had it before?”

“Nope,” Fu Junxue feigned grievance. “It’ll make me fat.”

Her frame was naturally broader, and though she had well-defined shoulders and hips, maintaining her figure required extra effort.

In the past, when Fu Junxue said this, people would respond with things like, “Just one cup won’t hurt,” or “You’re already so thin, why diet?”

No malice intended, but no one truly understood. Fu Junxue didn’t care much about others’ opinions her body was her own, and how she maintained it was her business, unrelated to anyone else. She didn’t need others to acknowledge her efforts.

But now, she didn’t particularly want to hear such words from Wen Yanbing.

As she pondered why, Fu Junxue caught Wen Yanbing sliding the cup out of her line of sight.

“It’s not very good,” Wen Yanbing said earnestly, her voice gentle.

Fu Junxue laughed at the gesture. “Don’t act like I’m going to steal it from you.”

Wen Yanbing recalled Fu Junxue’s intense stare. “It did seem that way.”

Fu Junxue: “…”

Watching Fu Junxue sigh in exasperation, every expression and gesture exuded charm.

The air conditioning carried her perfume past Wen Yanbing’s nose, like damp snow dusting over a radiant red rose.

Wen Yanbing pulled the cup back and took a couple more sips before changing the subject. “What’s the maximum discount for signing up for classes?”

“I discussed with Pepper, the owner of Solo and we’ve agreed to offer you a 20% discount on your course,” Fu Jingxue cleared her throat. “The first phase of Xingxing’s course will be free of charge. You can decide whether to continue her lessons based on the intervention results. If the intervention proves effective and you’re willing to help promote us, all subsequent courses will be free. Depending on the promotional results, we can even extend a one-year membership, during which you can come diving anytime.”

Wen Wanbing frowned slightly. “How would the promotion work?”

“Just post videos on the account ‘Stars Like Water,'” Fu Jingxue added by way of explanation. “I happened to come across your video yesterday and came up with this idea.”

Wen Wanbing’s brow smoothed. “Thank you.”

This arrangement would save her a considerable amount.

“If everything sounds good,” Fu Jingxue curved her lips, “shall we discuss the course schedule?”

Wen Wanbing nodded. “Sounds good.”

“You’ll start with freediving first, and later Xingxing can learn OW scuba,” Fu Jingxue suggested. “While Xingxing is learning, you can accompany her in the water to reassure her. Depending on her progress and whether she’s ready for open water, you can then decide if you’d like to proceed with OW training. How does that sound?”

Wen Wanbing had no objections.

Next was scheduling. Fu Jingxue asked casually, “Are you local to Nanquan?”

Wen Wanbing shook her head. “I’ve settled here now.”

“That makes it easier,” Fu Jingxue proposed. “Shall we start next week?”

“Sure,” Wen Wanbing replied. “I have a nine-day annual leave in July, which I plan to use to accompany Xingxing during her lessons. So my own sessions would have to be scheduled for evenings and weekends during that period.”

Fu Jingxue nodded and sent the course schedule to Wen Wanbing. “Just contact me whenever you’re free, and I’ll adjust accordingly.”

Recalling the rumors about Fu Jingxue’s profession, Wen Wanbing blurted out, “Won’t this schedule interfere with your work?”

“Not at all. I’m not busy lately,” Fu Jingxue said, then suddenly realized she had never mentioned her job. Yet Wen Wanbing’s tone suggested she already knew. Testing the waters, she asked, “Interfere with what work?”

The moment the words left her mouth, Wen Wanbing regretted them. After all, it was just hearsay. She pressed her lips together and deflected, “How would I know what work?”

Fu Jingxue gave her a sidelong glance. “The way you just asked if I’d be affected didn’t sound like you had no idea.”

The words carried an ambiguous undertone. Wen Wanbing bit her straw flat and stayed silent.

“It’s no fun pretending you don’t know when you clearly do.”

Her tone sounded displeased. Wen Wanbing glanced over and noticed Fu Jingxue’s lowered gaze, her sharp-edged shark clip twirling between her faintly pink fingertips.

The clip slipped and fell onto the folder with a dull thud. At the same time, Wen Wanbing relented. “The kind of work where you accompany people in relationships.”

Fu Jingxue paused, then countered with a question instead of an answer. “Where did you hear that?”

Wen Wanbing glanced toward the bar, where two staff members stood at a distance.

Following her gaze, Fu Jingxue let out a soft laugh.

Unsure of the meaning behind the laugh or the shift in Fu Jingxue’s expression, Wen Wanbing swirled her straw. “Is it like those rent-a-girlfriend jobs in TV dramas?”

Fu Jingxue glanced at Wen Wanbing but didn’t respond immediately. She turned her gaze toward the two staff members, waiting until they had walked closer before casually remarking, “The job of accompanying someone in love comes from a foreign interview about new professions. I’ve sent you the video feel free to watch it if you’re interested. Though, after watching it, I was quite envious of such a relaxed and therapeutic job, but,”

She left the sentence unfinished, shrugging her shoulders.

The dimmed phone screen, the two staff members’ faces flushing from pale to red, the silence lingering in the air, and Fu Jingxue’s candid gaze.

Everything pointed to an unspoken answer.

This wasn’t Fu Jingxue’s job.

“I’m sorry,” Wen Wanbing apologized sincerely. “I misunderstood.”

Truthfully, such a profession sounded exaggerated from the start, and she hadn’t entirely believed it either. Yet, she had blurted out the question instinctively.

It was a test.

She wanted to hear Fu Jingxue say it herself whether she really accompanied people in love, and how she did it.

“It’s fine.” Fu Jingxue smiled nonchalantly before abruptly shifting the topic. “Have you ever been in a relationship?”

Wen Wanbing paused, then answered honestly, “No.”

Fu Jingxue rested her chin in her hand, studying Wen Wanbing.

From the first glance, she had found Wen Wanbing strikingly beautiful. Her delicate, understated features weren’t immediately dazzling, but her bone structure was exquisite. The graceful curve of her swan-like neck and the elegant slope of her shoulders accentuated her refined demeanor, making her all the more captivating the longer one looked.

Especially those amber eyes like misty hot springs beneath a layer of ice and snow, or a forest stream flowing through a summer night, a blend of cool detachment and gentle warmth.

Most importantly, she hadn’t misinterpreted the so-called “job of accompanying someone in love.”

In a world overflowing with materialism and malicious assumptions, kindness and integrity were rare treasures.

“Then…” Fu Jingxue opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by a sudden coughing fit, her throat dry and scratchy.

The table held nothing but the lemon iced tea in front of them. Seeing Fu Jingxue cough uncontrollably, Wen Wanbing instinctively reached to offer her own drink only to freeze awkwardly upon noticing the bite-flattened straw. She hesitated, about to pull back.

Fu Jingxue was quicker, taking the cup. Her lips, tinted red, parted slightly as she wrapped them around the straw and took a sip.

The suction was labored. After releasing it, Fu Jingxue stared at the now-crimped straw for a solid six or seven seconds.

Wen Wanbing’s gaze lingered on the faint pink imprint left on the straw before she forced herself to look away, feeling heat rise from her neck all the way to her ears.

The next second, her ears burned as if scorched.

Because Fu Jingxue suddenly leaned in closer. The faint blush on her face hadn’t yet faded, carrying a whisper of warmth that seemed to carry an invasive allure.

“Would you ever want to try it?”

“Try what? Love?” Wen Wanbing turned her head to ask, “With whom?”

In her line of sight, Fu Jingxue’s plump, moist lips parted slightly, and her breathy voice teased at Wen Wanbing’s senses.

“With me.”

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