Chapter 36

The car pulled up and stopped by the roadside.

They got in one after the other. Lin Baixin opened the door; only after Yu Min sat down did she lean in after her. The car was warm, with the air conditioning on, and it was much cozier than outside.

This time, Yu Min didn’t sit right by the window. She moved closer to the middle, and Lin Baixin did the same. The spot where Yu Min had been bumped earlier was fine by now, but Lin Baixin still felt guilty. Once they were in the car, she lifted Yu Min’s fringe aside and took another look.

The cool touch of her fingertips made Yu Min reflexively want to lean away, but there was nowhere to retreat to; the seat was behind her. In front of her, Lin Baixin had tilted her body partway in, and if she came any closer, she’d almost be holding her in her arms.

“Is it this spot from just now?” Lin Baixin’s fingertips were gentle as she touched her face, sounding uncertain. “Or a little to the side? How is it now?”

Yu Min tilted her head slightly and met her eyes. “Mm, this spot.”

She fluttered her lashes, still not used to being this close to her. The car was cramped; she couldn’t tell if she was imagining it, but the moment Lin Baixin leaned in, it felt as if her breath might brush Yu Min’s cheek. Soft, light, carrying the scent of Lin Baixin’s perfume.

Yu Min straightened, then after a pause forced herself to lean back. Once she had only just sat properly again, she said, “It’s okay now. It doesn’t hurt much.”

Lin Baixin checked for herself, studying her carefully. When the car went around a turn, she sat back again.

“Doesn’t look like it’ll swell, and it isn’t red.”

“Mm.”

“I’ll check again later.”

“Mm.”

When they got home, she really did look again. Lin Baixin didn’t doubt her; she took even the smallest thing seriously.

Actually, it didn’t hurt that much. The pain had faded almost immediately. It had been such a light bump; how could it really have hurt that badly? Before they even got in the car, it had already been fine. Yu Min was doing it on purpose, a little too clever about it. She didn’t usually do things like that, and it wasn’t right, but she still did it anyway. Whenever Lin Baixin worried about her, she would look up at her from time to time, her gaze drifting—intentionally or not—to Lin Baixin’s face.

Lin Baixin had put off a lot of things today just to celebrate Yu Min’s birthday alone with her. After coming back, she still had to work overtime. There was work every day; today’s work had to be finished today, and tomorrow would have its own problems.

“Want to stay with me?” Lin Baixin probably thought the day wasn’t over yet and didn’t want to leave Yu Min alone. She pointed toward the study. “I probably won’t be done until ten. If you don’t want to stay outside, you can come in with me.”

After a beat, she added, “Or you can go do your own thing. That’s fine too.”

It was only a little after seven now; it was still early. Of course Yu Min didn’t want to stay out there alone. There was nothing to do anyway; she’d just be on her phone. Going into the study was better than staying outside.

“Want to play games?” Lin Baixin asked, making a point of saying, “You don’t need to stay quiet. I’m just handling some emails and spreadsheets. Do whatever you want; it won’t bother me.”

Yu Min didn’t play games. She was replying to messages; she still hadn’t answered the birthday wishes people had sent her online. If she didn’t reply soon, it would be too late.

Once they were in the study, Lin Baixin sat down in front of the computer, while Yu Min dragged over a chair and sat beside her, with only half a meter between them.

“Do you want water? Coffee?” Yu Min asked. “I’ll make it for you.”

Lin Baixin replied, “No. If I drink coffee now, I won’t be able to sleep later. Just sit there.”

“Anything else? You don’t want anything?”

“No.”

“Okay then.”

On her phone, the messages had already climbed to 99+. It was as if the sun had risen in the west; people from the Yu family had surprisingly all sent messages and transfers over. Aunt, her paternal uncle, her grandparents... and of course Yu Shengyu was among them, as was Zheng Qing, far away overseas. Those two hadn’t sent money through WeChat; WeChat transfers had a limit, so they’d directly deposited the money into Yu Min’s bank card.

Yu Shengyu’s message said: -If you have time, come back another day and have a meal with your grandparents and the others. They want to see you, and they’re worried that you aren’t doing well there on your own.

Zheng Qing was comparatively straightforward, skipping the fake pleasantries and leaving only a simple line: -You’re another year older. Take good care of yourself.

That matter from before, the pregnancy... in the end, it had been real. But after Zheng Qing received the property she was entitled to, she hadn’t chosen to give birth to that child. Not long after, she had terminated the pregnancy.

Zheng Qing hadn’t gone completely insane after all. Her last marriage had left her battered and scarred; by then she was already clear-headed and no longer had any unrealistic expectations about love. She would never have another child to drag her down, to stand in the way of her future freedom, even if the child’s father was her first love.

Zheng Qing transferred the most money. The string of zeroes was blinding. After all, Yu Min was her only biological daughter; no matter how ugly things had been before, Zheng Qing still had Yu Min in her heart. Money was where her feelings were, and real action was far more genuine than empty words.

But whether Yu Min accepted it was another matter. She took the money without a word, but didn’t reply to the messages; she didn’t reply to Zheng Qing’s or Yu Shengyu’s either.

Returning the money would be troublesome. Yu Min’s card had a limit, and if she sent it back, she’d have to go to the bank counter. Besides, if she didn’t accept it, based on what she knew of them, Zheng Qing and Yu Shengyu would definitely send it again. Especially Zheng Qing; she didn’t allow her daughter to refuse her, because in her eyes that was a form of resistance.

Yu Min cherished the peaceful life she had now and didn’t want to stir up extra trouble, so she went along with them.

She did reply to Aunt and the others one by one. No matter what, it had been Aunt who’d taken her in; Yu Min wasn’t some ungrateful wretch. She spent quite a while weighing every word before finally choosing the proper phrasing, as polite as she could manage.

There were also a few former high school classmates; surprisingly, someone had remembered Yu Min’s birthday.

Yu Min replied to each of them too, thanking them.

Zhao Shi Yu and the others in the little group chat had been waiting early on, just waiting for Yu Min to finish dinner and come online. Zhao Shi Yu was especially well-informed; after finding out Yu Min had gone out tonight to eat with someone important, she was even nosier than Li Xue Ting and immediately started a group video call, clearly determined to ask everything.

Yu Min didn’t dare turn on the speaker. She put in her earbuds, moved the phone farther away, and made sure Lin Baixin couldn’t hear their nonsense.

The video connected. Thankfully, after Zhao Shi Yu learned that Lin Baixin was beside Yu Min, she restrained herself somewhat and didn’t ask anything ridiculous, or Yu Min wouldn’t have known how to answer.

But once Zhao Shi Yu knew Yu Min wasn’t using speakerphone, the three of them immediately started acting up, egging each other on and making a huge fuss over Yu Min. Yu Min was a man of few words—because Lin Baixin was there, she was even quieter than Wen Yun on the other end of the phone. She mostly just listened to them chat and didn’t dare answer some of the things they said.

The four of them hadn’t seen each other in a long time. The video call went on for more than an hour, and toward the end they were mostly talking about how things were going at school. At one point, Wen Yun stepped away for a while to get snacks for Zhao Shi Yu. When she came back, Zhao Shi Yu opened a bag of shrimp crackers and suddenly noticed something odd on this side. Her eyes widened. “Yu Min, you aren’t living on campus?”

Yu Min answered honestly. “No. I’m not in the dorms anymore. I’m staying at Sister Baixin’s place.”

Zhao Shi Yu let out an “oh” and asked how being a day student at university was. She didn’t want to live on campus either; she and Wen Yun were planning to move out and rent a place later. The two sisters both had a hard time adapting to dorm life and didn’t like living with other people.

Yu Min answered everything they asked. But before long, Zhao Shi Yu dragged the topic back again, grinning as she curiously asked whether Yu Min had gone on a date tonight. Was something good about to happen?

Because she had stepped away in the middle, Wen Yun didn’t know what they’d been talking about. To avoid interrupting the three of them, while Li Xue Ting and Yu Min were talking, Wen Yun signed to Zhao Shi Yu. The two sisters were like they were casting seals, “talking” a huge amount over there on the screen, and not just about the topic they’d been discussing a moment ago.

Yu Min couldn’t understand sign language. It was like reading a heavenly book.

“What are you guys doing? Sending Morse code or something? Acting like I and Yu Min don’t exist?” Li Xue Ting said. “You two are going too far. We see each other every day, and the second we do a video call, you start whispering to each other. Picking on me and Yu Min for not having sisters, huh?”

Only then did Zhao Shi Yu and the others stop. No one knew what Zhao Shi Yu signaled to Wen Yun, but Wen Yun pinched Zhao Shi Yu’s arm hard and shot her a reproachful glare.

By the time the video call ended, Lin Baixin had basically finished her work. Yu Min hadn’t noticed; only after hanging up and turning her head did she realize Lin Baixin was already sitting there resting, her gaze lowered to the screen of Yu Min’s phone. She’d probably been watching the video call for a while.

Because some of the things said in the call couldn’t be let slip to Lin Baixin, Yu Min had worn earbuds; Lin Baixin shouldn’t have been able to hear anything. But Yu Min was still a little uneasy. She turned to look at Lin Baixin. Lin Baixin didn’t have much expression on her face, though the corners of her mouth were pressed down slightly.

For a moment, Yu Min thought the earbuds must have leaked sound, or maybe the quality was bad, and Lin Baixin had heard something she shouldn’t have. But Lin Baixin didn’t say much. She only asked casually what kind of relationship Zhao Shi Yu and Wen Yun on the other end of the phone had with Yu Min.

Yu Min answered honestly. Hearing that they were family, Lin Baixin clearly frowned, as if she didn’t quite agree.

“What’s wrong?” Yu Min asked, confused.

Lin Baixin didn’t explain. She only said, “Nothing. Just asking.”

—Lin Baixin understood sign language.

Two days later, Lin Qi came back to Kyoto from a business trip. She told Yu Min that Lin Baixin didn’t just understand it; she could sign as well, and she was very fluent at it.

Yu Min froze. At the time, she didn’t think much of it. Being able to sign wasn’t a big deal. But that same night, she heard from Wen Yun exactly what the two sisters’ sign-language “conversation” had been about. Zhao Shi Yu was an airhead, all impulse and no filter; she had actually relayed the part about asking whether Yu Min had gone out on a date tonight, and whether something good was about to happen, in complete detail.

Had Lin Baixin seen that part?

Maybe not. Hopefully not.

Seeing Yu Min’s expression change all at once, Lin Qi leaned in, catching the shift sharply, and said in a low voice, “What is it, kid? You look really off.”

Yu Min stepped back half a pace. “I’m not a kid.”

“In our eyes, you are. You aren’t even twenty yet; if you’re not a kid, then who is?” Lin Qi said. “You’re always so nervous all day long. I can’t make head or tail of it, but you’ve probably got something to hide from your sister. You’re not being honest.”

Yu Min didn’t argue. There was no point explaining; the more she did, the worse it would sound. She wasn’t taking the bait.

Lin Qi wasn’t determined to pry into it. She tactfully turned away and didn’t keep pressing, or Yu Min would end up spiraling inward for half a day again.

“Oh, right. There’s someone very important coming here soon. Has your sister told you?”

“No,” Yu Min said. “Who’s coming?”

“Your sister’s old...” Lin Qi blurted it out, then abruptly changed direction halfway through, realizing she couldn’t say that in front of Yu Min. She casually amended it to, “An old friend. One of our longtime acquaintances. To be precise, that person wants to see your sister, but your sister doesn’t want to meet them. She asked me to pass along the message, but I can’t; I can only come find you to do it.”