When Spring Awakens - Chapter 4

Upon hearing the response, Wen Wanbing was slightly taken aback.

Noticing Wen Wanbing’s reaction, Fu Junxue curled the corners of her lips upward and explained with a smile, “I was just a little curious, if I hadn’t denied it, would you have considered dating me?”

Wen Wanbing’s shoulders slumped slightly. “No.”

“That’s quite decisive,” Fu Junxue remarked. “Is it because you can’t accept same-sex relationships?”

Caught off guard by the question, Wen Wanbing paused for a moment before shaking her head. “It’s not that I can’t accept it.”

“May I ask something bold?” Without waiting for Wen Wanbing’s reply, Fu Junxue cut straight to the point. “Do you mean you can accept others being in same-sex relationships, or that you could also see yourself in one?”

It was overly blunt and undeniably forward, but Wen Wanbing didn’t dislike it. She answered earnestly:

“I can accept both. But right now, I can’t tell whether this awareness comes from liking the same sex or simply not liking the opposite sex.”

Fu Junxue raised an eyebrow. “At first glance, that doesn’t seem like much of a difference.”

“Not having met the right person of the opposite sex and being purely interested in the same sex are two entirely different concepts,” Wen Wanbing said. “The sense of responsibility differs between the two.”

The former offered more choices than the latter, and thus carried more risks.

Fu Junxue straightened up, putting some distance between them, and pushed the glass of iced lemon tea toward Wen Wanbing. Casually, she suggested, “If you’re unsure, maybe you could give it a try.”

Condensation had formed on the glass, droplets sliding down the sides and pooling at the base. As it was pushed forward, a distinct trail of water snaked between them, like a transparent thread connecting some unspoken bond.

Wen Wanbing stared at the water trail and parted her lips. “Try with whom?”

Fu Junxue repeated, “With me.”

Wen Wanbing noticed that Fu Junxue spoke as if she never exerted much effort her words always light and airy, making it hard to discern their true weight.

Wen Wanbing let out a soft laugh. “Thanks for playing along.”

Fu Junxue arched a brow. “What if I said I wasn’t playing along?”

The two staff members at the water bar were huddled in a corner, whispering about some gossip. Though their words were indistinct, the murmurs were audible, making the atmosphere between the two women feel even quieter.

It was like a thin sheet of ice so fragile it could shatter at the slightest touch, yet carrying an undercurrent of danger beneath the surface.

Wen Wanbing pressed her lips together. “Why me? This is only our second meeting. You probably aren’t lacking in suitors.”

“Actually, I don’t have anyone pursuing me,” Fu Junxue replied, her lips curling into a faint, ambiguous smile. “It’s been a long dry spell. After watching that interview, I really felt like being in a relationship. You caught my eye, and intuitively, I feel drawn to you.”

Wen Wanbing turned her head slightly, meeting Fu Junxue’s half-lidded, alluring gaze.

She parted her lips but suddenly found herself at a loss for words.

“If you’re open to it, and I am too, we could try getting to know each other. If not, just treat this as an audacious joke, and I apologize in advance.” Fu Junxue withdrew her hand, sliding the hair clip and folder toward her. “The clip is a gift for Little Star.”

Effortlessly, she shifted the conversation away.

Wen Wanbing’s long lashes fluttered slightly.

This was the first time she had properly looked at the hair clip. Designed like a celestial body, it featured a central blue topaz orb encircled by a metal ring adorned with two stars in a seamless gradient of blue and white, shimmering with an inner glow.

This was already the second time Fu Junxue had given a gift to Wen Xing.

Instinctively, Wen Wanbing picked up the small shark clip, intending to return it immediately. But Fu Junxue’s hand unexpectedly pressed down on hers, resting lightly on her wrist.

Not too heavy, not too light.

A warmth impossible to ignore.

“When I saw this clip, I immediately thought of Little Xingxing.” Fu Junxue quickly withdrew her hand. “It’s not expensive.”

There was no packaging, and she had been twirling it between her fingers earlier, it really didn’t seem costly.

“I really like Little Xingxing. I just wanted to give her something, no strings attached.” Fu Junxue looked at her, her eyes and voice brimming with obvious amusement. “So, Miss Icey, please don’t bombard me with red packets today.”

Although the gift was for Wen Xing, the child was too young to understand the concept of whether she should accept it or not. In the end, the decision still fell to Wen Wanbing.

Wen Wanbing never took others’ generosity for granted. If someone had ulterior motives, she felt she had to reciprocate in kind. And if it was purely out of goodwill, she was even more determined not to take advantage of it. She always sought to return the favor with something of equal or greater value.

With things put so plainly, refusing now would only embarrass the other party.

Lowering her gaze to the shark clip glinting in the light, Wen Wanbing murmured softly, “Thank you.”

I’ll find a way to return the favor later. She tucked the clip into her bag.

Fu Junxue glanced at her watch, tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and stood up. “It’s getting late. If there are no other questions, let’s head to the front desk to register and get your membership card.”

“Alright.” Wen Wanbing picked up the notebook from the table, her gaze lingering on the unfinished glass of iced lemon tea.

There was still a little left, the flattened straw bearing faint traces of lipstick, nearly invisible.

After a brief hesitation, she picked up the glass. As she turned, she noticed Fu Junxue standing to the side, waiting quietly for her.

Fu Junxue’s eyes were downcast, her long, thick lashes casting delicate shadows. Her line of sight was fixed on the cup in Wen Wanbing’s hand.

“You can throw it away if you don’t want to finish it. There’s a trash bin by the door.” Fu Junxue lifted her gaze and smiled. “Sorry for drinking your water. Next time, I’ll treat you to a full cup.”

That signature faint smile was back polished, graceful, laced with a subtle laziness, as if nothing in the world could faze her. An attitude of utter nonchalance.

And really, it wasn’t a big deal. Besides, it was Fu Junxue who had pushed the tea toward her to begin with. If Fu Junxue didn’t mind drinking after her, why should she?

“No need,” Wen Wanbing replied naturally. “It was just a sip.”

Fu Junxue curved her lips slightly but said nothing more.

As they walked side by side down the hallway, Fu Junxue asked casually, “How did you get here? By car?”

Unfazed by the abrupt topic shift, Wen Wanbing answered honestly, “By subway.”

Fu Junxue nodded thoughtfully.

When they reached the service center, Fu Junxue, realizing Wen Wanbing’s situation was different from that of most clients, decided that explaining everything to the front desk would take too long. Instead, she took a seat at the counter and personally handled Wen Wanbing’s membership registration.

Wen Wanbing cooperatively entered her personal details. After making the payment, there wasn’t much else for her to do, so she flipped open the folder to take a look.

Inside was a specialized diving instruction plan for children with autism.

“I looked it up online. There’s a diving center in Shenshi that offers diving lessons for children with autism. They started the program five years ago, and now their curriculum is quite comprehensive.” Fu Junxue glanced at her, speaking as if it were no big deal. “So today, I went to Shenshi to learn from the coach who specializes in this area. But considering each child’s situation is different, we still need to tailor the approach. I made a copy of the teaching plan for you take a look and see if any adjustments are needed.”

Wen Wanbing didn’t respond.

The folder holding the two sheets of paper suddenly felt unusually heavy, pulling her entire heart toward where Fu Junxue sat.

“Here, take the card.” Fu Junxue handed her two cards printed with mermaid designs.

The card was held horizontally, her hand covering most of it. As Wen Wanbing took it, her fingers inevitably brushed against Fu Junxue’s fingertips.

The touch was warm and soft, and the lingering warmth from where Fu Junxue had held her wrist earlier seemed to spark a chain reaction.

Wen Wanbing curled her fingers slightly and pocketed the card. “Thank you.”

Fu Junxue lazily tapped on the keyboard to input information, resting her cheek on one hand, the fingers that had unintentionally touched Wen Wanbing now resting just below her rosy lips.

As she spoke, her fingers faintly grazed that spot.

“You’re welcome. Serving our clients is what we do.”

Perhaps because closing time was near, the air conditioning wasn’t as strong as before. People came and went, the glass door constantly opening and closing, letting out some of the cool air.

It felt a little warm.

Wen Wanbing lowered her gaze and bit down on the straw, unconsciously grinding it between her teeth. By the time she finished half the drink, she had worn a small hole in it.

When she looked up again, she met Fu Junxue’s deep, fathomless eyes, no trace of a smile, just a beautiful, swirling abyss.

From the elevator, a group of people emerged, and someone accidentally dropped their goggles.

The sharp clatter made Wen Wanbing’s heart skip a beat.

“Alright, all set.” Fu Junxue stood up, making way for the front desk staff.

She stepped out from behind the counter and said to Wen Wanbing, “Where do you live? I’ll drive you home.”

The first half was a question, the second a statement spoken softly, gently, with a mesmerizing rhythm that made it easy to follow her lead.

Wen Wanbing shook her head again. “I’ll just take the metro.”

The metro was still running at this hour, so Fu Junxue didn’t insist.

Outside the center, the parking lot lay to the left, the path to the metro station to the right. Fu Junxue offered once more, “How about I walk you to the station?”

Wen Wanbing pressed her lips together. “No need.”

Just like their first meeting, she left without a word of farewell.

After a few steps, Fu Junxue called out from behind, “Wen Wanbing.”

Wen Wanbing turned, looking at her questioningly.

“Remember to review the teaching plan. Let me know if anything needs adjusting.” Fu Junxue lowered her head to tap on her phone as she reminded her.

Wen Wanbing gave a quiet “Mm.”

“Just sent you the theory class video and the Frenzel technique demo.” Fu Junxue waved her phone. “See if you got them.”

Wen Wanbing pulled out her phone and opened WeChat. The first message was a new interview video Fu Junxue had sent her.

“Got it.” She lowered her phone and looked up.

The submerged lights mingled with the streetlamps, casting a warm, golden glow that softly spilled onto the ground, floating between them. Their shadows stretched long, extending all the way to where the light grew faint, nearly blending into the night.

At the edge of the light, the shadows touched in silence.

Fu Junxue’s voice was light, her tone like water, the tail end of her words lifting slightly like a splash. The evening breeze carried that splash along with the untouchable ease and carefreeness that clung to her toward Wen Wan.

“Remember to look.”

Support When Spring Awakens