Chapter 3: Colliding into a Tender Embrace
June.
The answer is vague.
It's late April now, then May, June—if they meet at the end of June, that's over fifty days to go.
Jian Yue knows the truth can't be hidden forever, but she'll stall as long as possible. She knows Lin Zhengmo too well: the woman keeps work and life strictly separate. If she finds out her girlfriend is the colleague next door, her "ostrich" nature will have her buying a standing-room ticket and fleeing overnight.
Jian Yue has a plan. She wants Lin Zhengmo to fall a little deeper in love—though "a little" is an understatement. In truth, she wants Lin Zhengmo to love her desperately, so deeply that even when they meet face-to-face, Lin Zhengmo won't run away in shock.
"Is next month okay?" Jian Yue repeats.
Lin Zhengmo is dissatisfied but relieved it's a commitment. "Okay, fine."
Jian Yue checks the time. "Time to sleep?"
Lin Zhengmo is already drowsy. "Mhm..."
"Good night."
"Can you kiss me?" Lin Zhengmo blurts, blushing.
She's too tempting. Jian Yue's ears burn, her throat itching like fire. "Okay, kissing you," she says, voice tight through the headset.
She hears Lin Zhengmo giggle before the call cuts off. It's like being teased and then left hanging—so Lin Zhengmo.
Jian Yue stares at the call duration: 1:23:44, filled with longing. Lin Zhengmo's words haunt her, controlling her breath and heartbeat. She rolls over, phone light illuminating her features as she types: I'll really kiss you when we meet.
Whoosh—sent.
Weekends fly by, and Monday arrives. After two days' rest, Lin Zhengmo heads to work energized, living in an apartment ten minutes from school. Being a teacher means constant exposure to youth.
Early morning, the school gate teems with students: some wolfing breakfast, others greeting friends with playful back-pats and "Hey!"s, eager to startle each other into laughter. Lin Zhengmo watches, lips curving. She loves this pure, vibrant energy.
"Ms. Lin! Morning!" Zhao Xiaoxiao dashes past, panting. "Gotta go, late!"
No homework again, Lin Zhengmo sighs.
"Good morning, Ms. Jian."
Jian Yue: "Morning."
A familiar voice drifts from five meters behind—clean and clear, like AhAhAh's. Lin Zhengmo frowns, wondering if she's still sleepy.
The crowd surges, and Lin Zhengmo slows. Seconds later, a tall woman passes by. They never greet—too unfamiliar to do more than avoid each other.
Jian Yue walks ahead, ponytail swinging, white neck like snow. A white shirt over a gray tee, jeans—crisp and eye-catching. Lin Zhengmo steals a rare look, caught off guard when Jian Yue stops abruptly and turns.
!!!
It's too late to look away. Their eyes meet, awkwardness striking. Lin Zhengmo forces a greeting: "Director Jian."
"Mn." Jian Yue studies her, as if waiting.
Lin Zhengmo steps up, keeping a proper distance, tense. Regret staring.
"Missed the dinner on Friday?" Jian Yue starts casually.
"Went to my mom's."
"I see." Jian Yue smiles, eyeing Lin Zhengmo's profile—her delicate nose, blushing cheeks.
Lin Zhengmo stares ahead, avoiding her gaze.
Her face is flushed, beautiful in the morning mist. "Will you skip next time too?" Jian Yue presses, drinking in every detail.
Their eyes meet again, Lin Zhengmo's gaze as cold as a lake. It's hard to connect this aloofness with last night's "Kiss me, please"—the contrast is thrilling and guilty, a secret from their other world.
Jian Yue looks away quickly. "Oh, could you give this report to Teacher Zhao?" She hands over an empty file. "Thanks, Ms. Lin."
"Sure."
"Need to go to the dean's office." Jian Yue points, all business. "I'll go first."
"Okay," Lin Zhengmo mumbles.
Jian Yue strides off, heart pounding. The earlier glance left her breathless. Stopping at a quiet flower bed, she checks her phone—Lin Zhengmo's messages:
[Bumped into our grade director.]
[So lazy.]
[Made me deliver a file.]
[Will avoid her next time.]
Jian Yue groans. Just wanted to talk!
Lin Zhengmo is paradoxical: quiet and gentle on the surface, but aloof with strangers to avoid trouble. Helping Jian Yue felt like a hassle, especially since Teacher Zhao talks too much.
"From Director Jian," she says, dropping the file on Zhao Ming's desk before sitting.
Zhao Ming opens it—empty. "Why'd she send this?"
"She stopped me on purpose," Lin Zhengmo says, bored.
"Huh. Maybe a mistake."
Lin Zhengmo checks her phone—no reply from AhAhAh. Zhao Ming leans in: "Glad you skipped dinner! Ms. Zhang wanted to set you up."
"I wasn't there." Lin Zhengmo smiles wryly. "They care too much."
"Exactly! You were the topic. Then Director Jian said—"
"Mn?"
"She told Ms. Zhang to fix her love life first, leave you alone."
Lin Zhengmo relaxes. "Great. Send all blind dates to her. None for me."
Zhao Ming thinks she's jealous. "Upset?"
Lin Zhengmo laughs. "No."
Just happy. She can't say it: Shove all men to Jian Yue—she'd be a saint.
Zhao Ming sighs—no reaction. "You're strange, Ms. Lin. No interest in gossip?"
Lin Zhengmo stands, grabbing her book. "Gotta check morning self-study."
She rushes out, nearly colliding with someone in the doorway. White shirt meets white dress, books and papers scattering.
"Sorry, Director Jian!"