Lemon: Lu Wanning hadn’t dreamed of the past in a long time.
Lu Wanning hadn’t dreamed of the past in a long time.
That first year after they separated, every time she closed her eyes, she would see Han Yao standing in the rain, holding an umbrella, staring at her.
“You don’t want me anymore.”
In the dream, Lu Wanning was always struck speechless, unable to say a word. Then Han Yao would walk toward her, take Lu Wanning’s hand, and somehow a knife would appear between their palms, plunging with force into Han Yao’s thin body.
Even the rain took on the scent of blood.
Amid the broken patter of rain, calm yet on the verge of shattering: “Then just kill me.”
“I can’t go on living anyway.”
Every time it reached this point, Lu Wanning would jolt awake, then silently bury herself under the covers, eyes half-shut until dawn.
But perhaps because these nightmares tormented her for too long, she eventually stopped dreaming altogether. Nothing but blackness before her eyes, numb, as if her soul had been lost.
“I can’t go on living.”
Han Yao used to say those words all the time.
If Lu Wanning so much as glanced at someone a moment too long, Han Yao would notice with sharp sensitivity. She would say nothing, but at night, she would hold Lu Wanning tighter than usual as they slept.
Lu Wanning was afraid of the heat. Suffocating, about to sweat, she would instinctively push her away: “I can’t breathe.” It was the truth, Han Yao was practically squeezing her to death.
Then Han Yao would fix her gaze on her without so much as a blink.
“Is she pretty?” she asked with a smile.
“Who?”
“The girl from daytime.”
Lu Wanning met so many people during the day that she had no idea who she meant, her face blank with confusion.
But it was precisely this reaction that pleased Han Yao, and some of the gloom between her brows would fade a little.
“Come here.”
Han Yao would command softly.
“Kiss me.”
No matter how many times, Lu Wanning would go stiff all over, hesitating, not daring to move. But Han Yao was patient she could wait however long it took.
Until Lu Wanning finally gave in, leaning over and planting a quick peck on Han Yao’s cheek, trying to pull away like a dragonfly skimming water. But Han Yao’s hand was already pressing down on her head, not letting her go.
“Not there.”
Lu Wanning was far stronger than Han Yao, a young miss who’d never lifted a finger in her life. Breaking free would have been easy.
But the moment she moved, Han Yao would say, “That hurts.”
How does that hurt?!
“It just hurts.”
Han Yao would even lean in to kiss her herself, her lips falling on her forehead, her cheeks: “If you let me kiss you, it won’t hurt anymore.”
Lu Wanning’s face burned hotter than a fever; too embarrassed to meet her gaze, she would shut her eyes.
But Han Yao wouldn’t even allow that, placing her cool left hand over Lu Wanning’s eyelids. “Open your eyes.” She knew Lu Wanning was the type who yielded to gentleness, never to force.
This attitude didn’t even qualify as acting spoiled, because Han Yao’s tone was always so flat and calm. It relied solely on that glimmer of longing and softness rippling in her eyes to make Lu Wanning’s heart go weak.
Lu Wanning surrendered, opening her eyes resignedly, clumsily responding to Han Yao’s kisses, her voice muffled and broken: “Why do you always need kisses and hugs? You’re not a baby.”
“But I am one.” And as she said it, Han Yao matter-of-factly began doing wicked things.
It was always like this the instant Lu Wanning moved and brushed against her in the slightest, Han Yao would stare straight at her and say it hurt, as if she were the one being bullied.
Who exactly was being bullied here?
Lu Wanning was deathly proud no matter how she was handled, she refused to make a sound. She would rather bite her lip until it bled, until her eyes reddened like a rabbit’s, than admit defeat.
Han Yao never forced her on this. She simply gazed patiently at her face, lashes casting a lovely shadow, then used her free hand to wipe away a fleck of blood at the corner of Lu Wanning’s mouth, licking it clean off her fingertip.
“Sweet,” she said with a smile. “Lemons are sweet.”
Then, refusing to miss a single subtle reaction from Lu Wanning whether a tremble of lashes, quickened breathing, or cheeks flushing ever deeper, she savored her word by word, like reading a book of poems, chewing over every detail.
Han Yao also liked to leave marks on her, planting flowers one by one starting from her collarbone, until they bloomed into roses without boundary.
Lu Wanning felt like a plaything, arranged however she was wanted, powerless to resist and then she heard Han Yao whisper in her ear, “We’re going to be together for the rest of our lives.”
“…”
“And the next life too.” Han Yao smiled, taking Lu Wanning’s wrist in her left hand and pressing it gently to her own cheek. Unlike Lu Wanning, who flared hot so easily, her skin was always icy cold smooth as obsidian to the touch, flawless as white jade to the eye.
“Otherwise I can’t go on. I could die at any moment.” She murmured it over and over. “Don’t look at anyone else, all right?”
“Eyes only for me. That’s enough.”
But Lu Wanning felt she was the one dying. Killed by Han Yao.
She turned sideways, trying to slip away and switch off the bedside lamp, only to be yanked back.
In the darkness, Lu Wanning bit her lip bloody again. Tilting her head back, she glimpsed Han Yao’s long hair spilling to one side, exposing a slender neck fragile as a flower that would snap at a single bend and yet it was she who held Lu Wanning entirely in the palm of her hand.
“Promise you won’t look at anyone else.”
“…”
“Promise me.”
“…”
Patience was the one thing Han Yao never lacked. She could always wait until Lu Wanning surrendered.
“I promise.”
And when these things ended was never, ever up to Lu Wanning.
Only when they were both utterly exhausted did Han Yao withdraw her damp right hand from beneath Lu Wanning’s nightshirt, wipe it clean with a wet cloth by the bed, and then wrap her arms tightly around Lu Wanning again, resting her head on her shoulder.
Lu Wanning was silent for a long while. “This isn’t right.”
“What isn’t?”
“None of it, none of it is right.”
Han Yao knew perfectly well what she meant, but her eyes flickered and she twisted the words: “You mean I didn’t do well just now?”
“No, I…”
“There, no need to overthink it,” Han Yao said softly. “Good night.”
As always, the two of them drifted off in each other’s arms even in sleep, Han Yao would not loosen her grip, as if terrified the person beside her might slip away somewhere.
But Lu Wanning couldn’t sleep. She knew this simply wasn’t right.
It wasn’t right that Han Yao forbade her so much as a glance at strangers. It wasn’t right that she spoke of life and death so casually. It wasn’t right that every minute of every day she had to be wound around her like a chain.
She felt she could barely breathe. Even without understanding what love truly was, she knew that the madness hidden in Han Yao’s eyes could never be called a normal feeling.
She was a person, not someone’s toy. Why should she need permission just to look at anyone?
But how could she ever say it out loud? Han Yao would shatter like glass.
Han Yao knew, absolutely, that Lu Wanning couldn’t bear to let that happen.
Lu Wanning dreamed of the past again, and woke up exhausted, splashing water on her face.
For so long she had been trapped by those words “can’t live without” but apparently that wasn’t the case. In the five years without her, Han Yao had been living just fine.
That was a good thing.
No one truly can’t live without anyone else.
Too much had happened lately more than her brain could process.
First there was the harassment by Manager Gao, the huge scene at the company. She’d expected to be fired, yet suffered no consequences at all she was even transferred to Director Xu Zhen’s team, which in a sense counted as a promotion.
Lu Wanning had also heard about Manager Gao’s aftermath.
Word was that other female employees had come forward to report harassment they’d experienced, both overt and subtle. Manager Gao was just one of many the roaches had long been nesting in the dark. The company fired everyone involved, offered legal aid to these employees, and assisted them with their lawsuits.
She also heard that the very next day, Manager Gao’s chronic illness flared up. He’d been confined to a hospital bed ever since and was now in a vegetative state. It was said to be a hereditary family condition that flared up from time to time; doctors confirmed it had nothing to do with Lu Wanning.
At work, Xu Zhen was a very strict boss, and working under her, Lu Wanning quickly felt unprecedented pressure and workload.
But thanks to those years with Han Yao, Lu Wanning’s greatest strength was her ability to endure pressure and hardship. The new department was full of challenges, but after a month she had mostly caught up with the pace, gradually settled in, and learned quite a lot.
Xu Zhen even rare praise her a couple of times: “Keep it up, and there’s hope for a year-end bonus.”
Lu Wanning blinked and didn’t reply.
Because she didn’t dare believe it.
Everything was too normal, too perfect like a Happy Ending in a video game. The wrongdoers got their deserved punishment, while she worked hard, got her life on track, and things kept getting better. For now, she no longer had to worry about unpaid wages.
It was perfect to the point of being unreal.
Since when had the world ever been this kind?
Also, in this entire month, she hadn’t seen Han Yao once.
The company held another emergency shareholders’ meeting this week. Lu Wanning was a little nervous, but Han Yao never appeared.
She casually asked a coworker about it and got this answer: “It’s always just the underlings who show up to these things. Last time was special Miss Han was in a good mood and came down to inspect the lower ranks. Think about it Fucheng is such a huge corporation. She’s busy with important matters every day; who has time for small stuff like this?”
Lu Wanning managed a faint laugh.
And then there was that sticky note with the lemon drawing that had appeared on her door out of nowhere it too seemed like nothing but a dream. She even went to the property management office specifically to check the surveillance footage, but found nothing. No suspicious person had ever appeared outside their door.
Her roommate thought she was making a fuss: “It’s just a piece of paper. Maybe it was stuck on by a delivery guy or some random ad. Don’t overthink it who cares?”
During this time, Han Yao hadn’t come looking for her, and Lu Wanning hadn’t noticed any signs of being watched.
It seemed she didn’t need to bother moving after all.
But Lu Wanning couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. In her mind, an alarm bell was ringing at all times, warning her that she still wasn’t out of danger.
Forget it. After all these years, her sixth sense had long since stopped meaning anything.
…
Another month passed. It wasn’t until the late autumn wind turned biting cold and Lu Wanning’s hair reached her shoulders that she heard Han Yao’s name again from someone else’s mouth.
Xu Zhen had several projects with Fucheng Group in progress, so the two sides had been holding frequent meetings, with Lu Wanning sitting beside her boss taking minutes.
This time, it was the Fucheng people who came to their company for a meeting. Just as they were about to begin, one of them suddenly received a phone call. “Sorry, one moment please.”
A little while later, the person returned. “A few of our executives would like to join online. Thank you for your patience.”
Xu Zhen readily agreed and motioned for Lu Wanning to quickly set up the online meeting software.
Once everything was ready, several unfamiliar faces appeared on the big screen the executives that person had mentioned.
One of the video feeds showed a conference room where three or four people sat sparsely around a table. With a casual glance, Lu Wanning saw Han Yao’s face appear in the bottom right corner.
That woman was always a standout among the crowd the first person anyone’s eyes would find.
Her black hair was swept to the right side. Even through the less-than-clear video, the line of her left jaw was visible. Han Yao seemed to have grown even thinner than two months ago.
She always maintained an upright posture when sitting, occupying only the front two-thirds of the chair, back straight, chin slightly tucked elegant as a swan.
Lu Wanning used to say sitting like that must be exhausting, and Han Yao would give her a puzzled look. “Is it?” she’d smile. “I’m used to it.”
Habits weren’t so easily changed. Five years had passed, and she was still the same.
Before her, one of the Fucheng people murmured to Xu Zhen, “President Han is very interested in this direction and wants to sit in on short notice. Just proceed with your presentation as normal.”
Lu Wanning had just created a new document for the meeting minutes. Her mind wandered, and without thinking, she typed the character “Han.” She deleted it as fast as she could, forcing herself to focus on the meeting. Xu Zhen and the others moved at a rapid pace miss even a little, and she’d be lost.
Later, there was some content Xu Zhen wanted to discuss with them privately, so she gestured for everyone else to step out.
Lu Wanning gathered her laptop, paper, and pen to leave. She had too much to carry and nearly dropped it all, but a colleague beside her helped steady the load and steadied her as well.
This scene was also projected onto the big screen by the conference room camera. The person in the bottom right corner lifted her head slightly.
A dark, cold gaze crossed through the screen and landed on the hand touching Lu Wanning’s.
At that moment, Lu Wanning’s back was turned, yet inexplicably her breath caught, and alarm bells rang out in her mind once more. She stood at the doorway of the conference room and abruptly turned her head but saw nothing.
…
So it really had all been her imagination.
Was she just being paranoid?