Chapter 53 - Because at home—someone was waiting for her

After New Year's Day, with Lin Xian’s final exams drawing near, she made the excuse of needing to focus on revision to temporarily pause her weekly workout sessions with Xiao Wanqing. Instead, she chose to stay home and study quietly on her own.

Truthfully, exams weren’t that difficult for Lin Xian. Since entering university, she hadn’t exactly been a top student, but she managed everything with ease. The real reason was the wave of emotion she couldn’t shake off after returning home that New Year's Eve — the moment her eyes had met Wen Tong’s, something had stirred. She couldn't quite figure out how much Wen Tong had sensed. At the time, she’d acted a little brashly, somewhat hoping to intimidate a potential rival. But after some careful thought, she realized she didn’t want Wen Tong to be the one to reveal her feelings to Xiao Wanqing. The haziness of it all — like viewing a flower through mist — felt like the right pace, the right distance.

She decided to avoid Wen Tong for now — to keep her rhythm undisturbed.

As it turned out, that decision was probably a wise one.

The first Saturday after New Year’s, Wen Tong arrived at the gym early. She walked slowly on the treadmill, casually waiting for Xiao Wanqing, her deep-set brows shadowed by a quiet haze.

Had she read too much into that moment the other night? Or had Lin Xian really meant something by it? Wen Tong had never been one to trust intuition, but this time, a part of her truly believed she hadn’t misunderstood. The calm yet piercing gaze Lin Xian had shot her felt like it had laid bare her feelings for Xiao Wanqing — and in response, Lin Xian had thrown down a challenge with that display of closeness.

Yet the more Wen Tong recalled their previous gym encounters, the more uncertain she became. Lin Xian had never done anything particularly out of line. Her gaze was always clean, her demeanor polite. Even if there were a few moments of physical closeness, weren’t they simply the natural interactions between an older and younger friend?

She felt herself wavering.

She reached out and tapped the treadmill settings, speeding it up — silently deciding: tonight, she’d watch more closely.

If she’d missed something before due to carelessness, then looking carefully this time should reveal something.

The way a person looks at the one they like — that’s not something you can fake.

Especially if they happen to like the same person you do.

But in the end, Wen Tong’s plan fell apart. She watched as Xiao Wanqing walked into view, hair loosely tied into a relaxed ponytail that still exuded effortless charm. For a moment, Wen Tong froze. She instinctively turned off the treadmill, eyes fixed on Xiao Wanqing, brows furrowed. Without thinking, she blurted out, “Where’s Lin Xian?”

Xiao Wanqing, already stretching beside her, responded with an easy, warm smile, “Xianxian’s getting ready for finals. She probably won’t make it the next two weeks.”

At once, Wen Tong’s sharp features clouded. Her lips pressed into a tight line, her entire demeanor suddenly darkened. Lin Xian not showing up meant all her carefully laid plans had gone to waste — like punching into air, all energy with nowhere to land. Frustration swelled.

Having known her for years, Xiao Wanqing immediately noticed the shift. She paused mid-stretch and asked with genuine concern, “What’s wrong? Your face suddenly looks awful.”

Wen Tong gave her a long, searching look before hesitantly asking, “How are things between you and Lin Xian lately?”

Xiao Wanqing blinked, a little puzzled, then nodded without hesitation. “Really good. Actually, I’d say even better than before.” She smiled again, a tender, indulgent warmth spreading across her gentle features. “Honestly, I should thank Sister Zhou Qin for that.” She paused, voice softening. “Maybe it’s the youth she brings — sometimes I feel like my life has started to regain its spark.” Her gaze grew distant, wistful. “You know, Wen Tong, that’s something I never thought I’d feel again.”

Wen Tong’s heart sank.

She opened her mouth, meaning to say, “Lin Xian... looks at you differently.”

But as Xiao Wanqing looked at her with gentle, expectant eyes, Wen Tong suddenly saw it — the genuine, rare light in her smile when she spoke of Lin Xian. The melancholy that always lingered between Xiao Wanqing’s brows seemed to have faded. Was that Lin Xian’s doing?

Xiao Wanqing was clearly enjoying whatever this was between them. It was written all over her face.

Wen Tong’s throat tightened. The words she’d meant to say dissolved before they could rise. Her hands, hanging loosely at her sides, slowly curled into fists. Her emotions swirled, tangled and bittersweet.

She was happy that Xiao Wanqing was finally beginning to let go of the past, to slowly embrace life again — something she’d long hoped for.

But it hurt that she wasn’t the one who brought about that change.

Still, Xiao Wanqing was gradually becoming that girl again — the one whose smile could light up the world. A flicker of pain crossed Wen Tong’s eyes. And suddenly, she couldn’t bear to disturb Xiao Wanqing’s fragile, hard-won peace over something as uncertain as her own suspicions.

So in the end, she lowered her gaze, offered a faint smile, and quietly said, “It’s nothing.”

Xiao Wanqing, clearly not convinced, frowned. “It’s obviously something. Wen Tong, who talks like that — half a sentence and then just stops?”

Wen Tong pushed down her sorrow and composed herself. When she looked up again, she was back to her usual confident, teasing self. “That’s just me,” she said, raising an eyebrow with mock seriousness. “Old Xiao, for someone who always seems calm, mature, and above it all — why are you so nosy? Haven’t you heard? Curiosity killed the cat.”

Xiao Wanqing rolled her eyes, instantly losing the urge to keep pressing. She turned away, tidying her things, pretending not to care anymore.

Wen Tong watched her walk away, the smile slowly fading from her lips, replaced by an overwhelming tenderness.

Maybe she’d overthought it all. Lin Xian was still so young — what could she possibly understand? Between her and Xiao Wanqing, it wasn’t just about age or experience — there was also gender. How many people in the world even liked someone of the same sex?

Before meeting Xiao Wanqing, she hadn’t known it was even possible — that a girl could fall for another girl.

And Lin Xian, still just a girl herself… how could she possibly know?

Xiao Wanqing, with her guarded heart — if Lin Xian had any real intentions, wouldn’t she have sensed it? Wouldn’t she have put up her walls?

Yes. She was definitely overthinking.

She quickened her pace to catch up with Xiao Wanqing, speaking animatedly into her ear as if on her own personal channel: “Old Xiao, guess who I ran into the other day at Wanquan Villa?”

Xiao Wanqing's tone was calm and gentle, each word soft yet merciless: “Not guessing. Not curious. Don’t want to know.”

Wen Tong burst out laughing, her brows relaxing and the strong air around her slowly softening. “Still holding a grudge? Too bad, I’m telling you anyway. The chairman of Shixing Group! Hey, are you even listening to me? Chief Editor Xiao! Old Xiao! Little Xiao! Gorgeous Miss Xiao...”

Back at home, Lin Xian was in Xiao Wanqing’s study. She paused her writing, yawning twice without knowing why. Her ears felt a little warm.

A trace of anxiety fluttered in her chest. Hopefully, Wen Tong hadn’t said anything she shouldn’t have to Xiao Wanqing?

Lin Xian reflected on Wen Tong’s personality—though she seemed carefree and cheerful, deep down, she was a cautious and discreet person. Especially when it came to Xiao Wanqing, she was even more careful. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have spent all these years never daring to reveal a thing unless she was absolutely sure.

What wasn’t said that day surely wouldn’t be exposed today. And what was left unsaid—like her suspicions—Wen Tong probably wouldn’t have the courage to mention now, especially since she had deliberately avoided the topic.

Lin Xian kept telling herself to relax, to stay calm, but her mind kept drifting, unable to focus on studying. She looked down at her review materials and only then realized that, somewhere along the way, the blank spaces on the page—those without printed text—had been filled, row after row, with one name: Xiao Wanqing.

Her eyes flew open, her entire face flushing a deep red. Oh no, no, no—this was the set of notes she was supposed to lend to Shi Man for copying tomorrow!

She scrambled to grab a roll of clear tape from Xiao Wanqing’s pen holder and started trying to lift the writing off, pressing it down hard, peeling it off delicately, again and again... trying to erase the evidence.

But it was a losing battle. After a few failed attempts, Lin Xian simply gave up.

So be it. If Shi Man sees it, she sees it. It wasn’t like Lin Xian had ever tried to hide how she felt about Xiao Wanqing. If Shi Man wanted to tease her, let her. If she wanted to joke, let her. Truth be told, if she could, if Xiao Wanqing didn’t mind, she would love nothing more than to shout to the whole world that Xiao Wanqing was hers—and no one else had the right to even think about her!

Just the thought of Xiao Wanqing made her heart melt. She pulled out her phone and sent a message, a smile playing at her lips.

Xiao Wanqing finished her workout as usual, parted ways with Wen Tong in the parking lot, and drove home alone.

Over this stretch of road and time, she’d slowly grown used to having Lin Xian by her side. Lin Xian was young, pure of heart, and wore her emotions plainly. Over the past few months, Xiao Wanqing had come to understand her moods fairly well. When Lin Xian was happy, the corners of her mouth would lift in a gentle smile, her little head bobbing as she softly hummed along to the music playing in the car. When she was upset, her eyes would turn deep and distant, and she’d sit still, gazing out the window at the city’s twinkling lights.

Xiao Wanqing had never told her, but she was always curious—what kind of world did Lin Xian see out that window? Why was it that, after staring out at the night sky for just a while, Lin Xian could so easily sweep away her sadness and turn back to her, eyes shining, smiling like the sun?

At a red light, Xiao Wanqing turned to glance at the empty passenger seat. She looked out the window, through the thick glass, trying to view the brilliant night as Lin Xian might have seen it.

Her gaze swept slowly from the dense rows of buildings, past couples on electric bikes, arms wrapped around each other as they wobbled by, and finally to a small, well-lit shop not far ahead. Outside sat a huge rice cooker.

Something tugged faintly at Xiao Wanqing’s heart. A soft dimple appeared at her cheek, barely visible.

When the light turned green, she started the car and slowly approached the shop. She parked in a temporary spot on the roadside, got out, and walked toward the store.

She remembered—Lin Xian loved the corn here.

Standing outside, she asked the owner for a cob. When it was packaged, she took it with both hands and entered the shop to pay.

As she stood at the counter, opening her wallet, her peripheral vision caught sight of the shelves behind the register—neatly stacked rows of cigarettes. Her smile faded slightly. She froze for a moment.

That rainy day… what was she feeling as she stood in this very spot?

After returning home that day, the air still heavy with moisture, she’d hidden in the bathroom, chain-smoking nearly half a pack. What had that felt like?

She couldn't quite remember anymore.

The shopkeeper noticed her staring at the cigarette shelf and, thinking he was being helpful, asked warmly, “Still the esse?”

He remembered her clearly from that day—this beautiful, soft-spoken woman had bought corn, then stared at the cigarette shelf before buying a pack of green esse. It was just a fleeting encounter, but he remembered because women rarely came to buy cigarettes, and one this gentle and graceful even less so.

What really cemented the memory, though, was his friend—visiting the shop that day—who had seen her standing in the rain without an umbrella, her pretty face damp and wistful. She’d been dressed in sporty, professional clothes, but had looked so delicate, so vulnerable, that he’d offered to lend her an umbrella. He’d even asked for her number to get it back later, but she had coldly turned him down.

His friend hadn’t stopped talking about it for days.

But contrary to what he expected, Xiao Wanqing pulled her gaze away, paid for the corn, and with a quiet smile and a soft voice said, “No need. I don’t smoke anymore.”

Just as she stepped out of the store, her phone vibrated softly in her bag.

She pulled it out and unlocked the screen. A new message waited.

Lin Xian: Xiao Auntie, are you almost home? Your poor little Xianxian has waited so long the flowers have all withered t^t. Be careful on the road.

The deep stillness in Xiao Wanqing’s eyes stirred, ripples spreading with gentle warmth. Holding the corn close to her chest, her fingers danced lightly over the screen as she replied:

“Almost home.”

She tucked her phone away, clutching the corn tighter, her steps light and quick, faster and faster toward her car.

Her heart, like her feet, felt buoyant, eager, almost impatient.

Because at home—someone was waiting for her.