Chapter 19 - A Tangled Morning
The memories of the previous night were a blurred tapestry of sensations, but one thread remained vivid: the feeling of lying in Lin Yunsheng’s arms. Chen Jinyue could still recall the rhythmic, gentle patting on her back, a steady cadence that mirrored the lullabies of her childhood. It had been a wordless comfort, a silent tether that had eventually pulled her into a deep, dreamless slumber.
When Jinyue finally drifted back to consciousness, the room was once again reclaimed by silence. She was alone.
She had never considered herself a heavy sleeper. In the years spent abroad, the slightest creak of a floorboard or the shift of light would usually startle her awake. Perhaps it was the lingering effects of the alcohol, or perhaps it was the profound sense of security she felt in this room, but waking up to an empty bed for the second morning in a row felt like a small, sharp rejection.
In North City, despite sharing a bed for two nights, she had yet to open her eyes and find Yunsheng beside her. It felt contradictory; only hours ago, they had been held in such a tight, desperate embrace, yet the morning always brought this clinical distance.
Groggily, Jinyue reached under her pillow for her phone. Her hand met only the cool fabric of the sheets. She propped herself up on one elbow, tossing the pillow aside, but the device was nowhere to be found. With her hair a bird’s nest of tangled strands, she scanned the room until her eyes landed on the nightstand on Yunsheng’s side. There it was, plugged into the charger just as it had been the day before.
The distance across the king-sized bed felt like a chasm. Stubbornness flared within her; she didn't want to actually get out of bed. She began a slow, awkward crawl, stretching her arm out as far as it would go. When her fingertips brushed the edge of the wood but failed to snag the phone, she lunged a little further, refusing to simply stand up and walk around. It was a petty battle against her own lethargy, a physical manifestation of her desire to stay within the warmth of the blankets.
*Thud.*
Her strength gave out. Just as her fingers grazed the charging cable, her arm buckled, and she collapsed face-first into the mattress. Specifically, she buried her face directly into Lin Yunsheng’s pillow.
A muffled groan of frustration escaped her. Why was something as simple as grabbing a phone so difficult?
But then, the frustration evaporated. The pillow was saturated with the scent of Lin Yunsheng—that signature woody perfume, cool and sophisticated, yet underlying it was the faint, warm scent of her skin. Jinyue didn't move. She took a deep, steadying breath, letting the fragrance anchor her.
*Click.*
The electronic lock chimed, and the door swung open.
Lin Yunsheng stepped into the room. She didn't turn on the lights immediately, her silhouette moving gracefully through the dimness. She stopped short when she saw the bizarre tableau on the bed: Jinyue sprawled out in a contorted heap, her head buried deep in the wrong pillow.
The hotel’s high-quality carpeting had muffled Yunsheng’s footsteps so effectively that Jinyue hadn't realized she was there until the door opened. Now, caught in such an embarrassing position, Jinyue froze. Her only saving grace was that her face was hidden.
*I’ll just pretend to be asleep,* she thought frantically. *People do weird things in their sleep. I’ll just say I rolled over. It’s perfectly logical.*
She forced her breathing to slow into a steady, rhythmic pattern, keeping her limbs perfectly still. She waited for the sound of Yunsheng moving away, or the splash of a faucet—anything she could use as a cue to "wake up" naturally. She had the whole script ready: she would roll over, sit up, and say with the perfect amount of groggy surprise, "Sister? You’re back?"
It was a flawless plan.
But the silence stretched on. Yunsheng remained standing right by the edge of the bed. Jinyue’s waist began to ache from the awkward twist of her torso, and the tension in her muscles was becoming impossible to hide.
"You can stop pretending now," Yunsheng said, her voice carrying a soft, teasing lilt.
Jinyue didn't budge. *How did she know? I haven't moved a muscle!*
"Your ears are bright red," Yunsheng added, answering the unspoken question.
Jinyue cursed inwardly. She had forgotten that her ears were exposed. With a defeated sigh against the pillow, she bit her lip and pushed herself up into a sitting position. *Lin Yunsheng, you better not ask me why I was sleeping like that,* she prayed, though her internal tone was far from pious.
Yunsheng didn't ask. Instead, she stood there with a lingering smile that made Jinyue feel even more exposed.
"Stop... stop laughing," Jinyue muttered, her voice lacking any real bite. The heat from her ears had already begun to migrate to her cheeks.
Yunsheng stepped closer, reaching out to gently brush the wild, messy tangles of hair away from Jinyue’s face. Her touch was light, her fingers lingering against Jinyue’s temple. "Just woke up?"
"Mhm..." Jinyue’s breath hitched at the proximity. "Why are you... back so early?"
"Didn't check your phone?"
The mention of the phone brought back a flicker of her earlier annoyance. "Not yet..."
"Do you wish I hadn't come back?" Yunsheng teased, her eyes searching Jinyue’s.
"No! That’s not it, I—" Jinyue started to protest, her voice rising in defensive haste, before she realized she was falling for the bait. She stopped and looked up, meeting Yunsheng’s gaze.
Yunsheng’s hand came to rest on top of Jinyue’s head, her thumb tracing a small circle. The room was still dim, the only light filtering through the gaps in the heavy curtains, casting long shadows across the bed.
"Sister..." Jinyue whispered, the word slipping out involuntarily, echoing the vulnerability of the night before.
"Mhm."
Yunsheng gave her hair one last affectionate rub before pulling her hand away. She walked over to the window and drew the curtains back just enough to let the daylight spill in—bright enough to see, but not so much that it stung.
The sudden influx of light seemed to dissolve the lingering, tender tension of the morning. "Get up. I have the afternoon off. Let’s go for a walk."
"Oh." Jinyue climbed out of bed, feeling uncharacteristically obedient.
It wasn't until they stepped out of the hotel lobby that Jinyue realized a light snow was falling. The flakes were tiny, drifting lazily through the air like frozen dust. She had always loved this kind of weather.
Yunsheng glanced at her, as if reading her mind. "Do you like it?"
"Yes. I love it. I love walking in weather like this," Jinyue said, her tone sweetening.
Yunsheng’s eyes crinkled with a smile, but her brow remained strangely still. She turned her gaze back to the road ahead without another word.
She led Jinyue to a traditional tea house adjacent to the hotel, deciding to combine breakfast and lunch into a single, leisurely meal. After ordering a pot of tea and several baskets of dim sum, Yunsheng looked up from the menu. "Is this enough?"
"It’s plenty... maybe a bit too much, actually."
Yunsheng closed the menu and handed it to the waiter. "This will be all for now. And please, no cilantro in any of the dishes. Thank you." She turned back to Jinyue. "It’s fine. We can take our time."
"Okay..."
Jinyue didn't consider herself particularly perceptive when it came to moods—certainly not as sensitive as her sister—but the way Yunsheng spoke, the subtle set of her shoulders, suggested her spirits weren't particularly high.
"Don't you have work this afternoon?" Jinyue wanted to ask if Yunsheng had pushed aside her responsibilities just because she was worried about Jinyue being alone in the hotel, but the words felt too heavy to voice.
"No," Yunsheng replied simply, her eyes downcast as she rinsed the tea cups and poured two portions.
"Then maybe you should rest at the hotel after we eat. You’ve been working so hard lately."
Yunsheng pushed a cup of tea toward Jinyue and looked up, a faint, weary smile playing on her lips. "The hotel checkout is at one. Where exactly would I rest?"
The conversation felt fragmented, like pieces of a puzzle that didn't quite fit together. Jinyue felt that the more Yunsheng smiled at her, the more she was hiding. But if Yunsheng wasn't going to speak, Jinyue wouldn't pry.
The meal passed in a heavy silence. The warmth of the previous night and the intimacy of the hair-brushing earlier that morning felt like a hallucination, a dream that had evaporated the moment they stepped into the light. Jinyue found herself poking at a shrimp dumpling with her chopstick, a restless energy building in her chest.
"Stop poking it."
"Oh..."
It was an old habit from her childhood—playing with her food when she was bored or anxious. Back then, her mother, Chen Fang, would scold her. But if Yunsheng saw it, she would simply take the bowl and chopsticks, feeding Jinyue herself while gently explaining why one shouldn't play with food.
In the end, Yunsheng’s gentle corrections had never actually broken the habit. While playing with food was bad, the sister who fed her was the best thing in the world.
But things were different now. She couldn't very well ask Lin Yunsheng to feed her. She set her chopsticks down.
"Is there anywhere you want to go?" Yunsheng asked.
Jinyue shook her head. She barely knew Haicheng anymore, let alone the sprawling streets of North City.
"I’ll take you to the Plum Garden," Yunsheng suggested. "The blossoms should be beautiful in this snow... shall we?"
"Okay."
After settling the bill, Yunsheng hailed a taxi. They sat together in the back seat, the heater humming against the chill outside. Jinyue was reminded of the night she had been drunk, riding in a similar taxi through the flickering city lights. Back then, she had been curled into Yunsheng’s side, not sitting in this stiff, quiet bubble.
"You... seem unhappy?" Yunsheng asked softly, staring at the tips of her own shoes. "Do you not want to go with me?"
Jinyue was stunned by the question.
It was a recurring, jarring sensation. Since her return, she had repeatedly sensed a strange, wounded quality in Yunsheng. And yet, every time she thought Yunsheng was the one who was upset, the older woman would turn it around, asking if *Jinyue* was the one who was miserable.
Jinyue reached out and took Yunsheng’s hand. "No, that’s not it..."
When Yunsheng didn't respond, Jinyue shifted her weight and laid her head down in Yunsheng’s lap. She looked up, her fingers tugging gently at Yunsheng’s scarf to force her to look down.
She met those beautiful, guarded eyes. A sudden, possessive urge flared in her heart—she wanted to claim those eyes, to make sure they saw only her.
"Lin Yunsheng," she whispered. "I’m only happy if you’re happy."
***
