For The Rest Of Our Life – Chapter 12
by Little PandaNo One Compares to You
The last day of military training. The morning was the university-wide drill performance, with each college sending a formation to compete. The afternoon was the intra-college performance competition among each college’s own formations. By then, the long-forecast typhoon finally showed signs of actually arriving.
The storm was brewing. The entire morning, the sky hung heavy and overcast, gust after gust of strong wind sweeping across the field, making the students watching from the stands cry out in waves: “Ah, my hat is going to fly off…” In the end, the drill instructors had no choice but to have everyone take off their hats first, line them up neatly, and set them aside.
Lin Xian followed her classmates in removing her hat and placing it properly on her lap. She tilted her head back and took several long gulps of water, mulling over one question: if it rained in the afternoon, would the drill performance still go on? After two grueling weeks, everyone was fired up and determined to place well in this final afternoon competition. If it got canceled, that would be incredibly frustrating.
Lin Xian carried this worry all the way until the afternoon drill performance began. Fortunately, the sky stayed overcast but never actually rained. Everything proceeded as planned, and Lin Xian let out a breath of relief.
The order of performance was determined by the instructors drawing lots. Perhaps due to bad luck, Lin Xian’s platoon drew dead last. When the news came, the whole platoon erupted in groans of despair. In everyone’s experience, going first or going last were equally disadvantageous positions.
Shi Man was one of the day students from Class 3 and had been standing to Lin Xian’s left in formation. After days of training together, she had become Lin Xian’s closest friend. Even as the first class’s performance was about to begin, she still couldn’t help venting to Lin Xian: “I figure first place is out of the question for our class. Going last, the judges will be too fatigued to appreciate it.”
Though Lin Xian was somewhat disappointed by the draw, she quickly came to terms with it. Since the outcome couldn’t be changed, neither complaining nor worrying would help. Better to stay optimistic. She sat in the stands, watching the first formation assembling on the field below, and curved her lips upward, comforting Shi Man: “Think of it as the grand finale. Maybe we’ll outshine all the beauties and the judges will just give us the highest score outright.”
Shi Man shot her a sidelong glance, then narrowed her eyes and hooked up the corners of her lips, teasing: “You sure know how to spin it. Tsk tsk, if it were a beauty contest judged by looks, I’d actually believe you could outshine all the beauties and take top marks.”
Lin Xian raised her eyebrows, amused. “You give me too much credit. I think you’re the one who could pull that off.” Lin Xian knew she wasn’t bad-looking, but Shi Man was genuinely beautiful—fair-skinned, with delicate features and a pair of peach blossom eyes that carried a natural, playful charm even when she smiled. It was a different kind of refinement from her own.
Shi Man arched a brow, her eyes taking on a hint of playful suggestiveness. She leaned in close to Lin Xian and whispered with an air of mystery: “I’m telling the truth. Here—lean forward a little and turn your head ninety degrees to the right.”
Lin Xian blinked in confusion, leaned forward slightly, and turned to look right. At a single glance, she caught the stares of several boys from the neighboring stands’ male formation, all looking straight at her. In the next second, she withdrew her gaze without batting an eye and replied to Shi Man coolly: “I don’t see anything.” In her mind, though, she was silently cursing those boys. Creeps.
Shi Man burst out laughing and called her bluff: “Keep pretending.”
Lin Xian cleared her throat and put on a serious face. “The drill performance is starting. Let’s pay attention.”
She didn’t know how other girls felt when they found out someone liked them—whether they felt secretly delighted or a little smug. Lin Xian just felt thoroughly irritated. But she knew she couldn’t say this out loud. If she did, people might think she was just showing off in a contrarian way. So she could only pretend not to know, pretend not to care.
Lin Xian thought she might have something wrong with her. She didn’t like it when people she didn’t like liked her—it made her feel burdened, like a hassle she hadn’t asked for. When it came to matters of the heart, she would much rather be the one making the move than the passive recipient of someone else’s feelings.
By the time it was finally Lin Xian’s platoon’s turn to leave the stands and prepare for their drill performance, the sky suddenly began to drizzle. The stands were covered, so the audience was fine, but the people on the field had no shelter whatsoever.
The second-to-last class’s performance was winding down. Their instructor, stern yet kind-hearted, looked up at the sky, then at the rain-misted faces of his students, and rallied them: “Hold on for a few more minutes. We should be able to finish before it gets heavy.”
But the heavens weren’t cooperating. The moment the broadcast announced the joint formation of Finance Classes 3 and 4, Sixth Battalion, Third Platoon, entering the field, the rain suddenly intensified, mercilessly slapping—slap slap slap—against every student in Third Platoon. For a moment, everyone was stunned.
The officials up above seemed to be hesitating too, and no instructions came down for a beat.
The instructor wavered for a moment, then suddenly blew his whistle. The students immediately snapped to attention. Through the hazy curtain of rain, the instructor scanned the young, fresh faces of Sixth Battalion, Third Platoon, and roared with fierce determination: “Can you hold on?!”
The students froze for a second. In the next, they answered in unison, voices ringing out: “We can hold on!”
The instructor wasn’t satisfied. He roared the question again: “Tell me—can you hold on?!”
This time, the students let loose, their voices brimming with bravado, their spirit soaring: “We can hold on!”
The instructor was satisfied. “Good. Then show everyone what you’ve got.” He blew his whistle hard. “Attention! Eyes right!”
The students’ reactions and coordination were as sharp as ever, completely unaffected by the sudden downpour.
Lin Xian was almost entirely soaked. Her high ponytail hung limp and dripping, and in the pouring rain, she looked like a pathetic drowned rat. But her eyes stayed fixed forward, steady and determined, moving through every command the instructor called out—and to her own surprise, she felt a surge of fighting spirit.
When thunderous, unending applause erupted across the field, everyone moved by Third Platoon’s perseverance, Lin Xian suddenly felt a twinge of loneliness.
If only Xiao Wanqing could have seen this. She remembered the first day of military training, when Xiao Wanqing had smiled and called her dashing, snapping photos of her. She was certain that just now, every movement she had made was as perfect as it could be—worthy of Xiao Wanqing’s eyes curving into a smile, worthy of being dazzled by her all over again.
Perhaps it was a blessing in disguise. Performing in the torrential rain, they won first place in the drill performance—unexpected yet, in hindsight, entirely deserved.
At that moment, Xiao Wanqing was in a conference room, preparing for a meeting. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, she watched the rain pouring down outside—rat-a-tat, vicious and relentless. It didn’t look like it would let up anytime soon.
Her brows drew together in concern. She took out her phone, and worried that Lin Xian might not be able to answer a call, sent a text instead: “Is the drill performance over? Did you get caught in the rain? If it’s over, don’t walk home in the rain without an umbrella. Wait a bit—I’ll come pick you up after my meeting.”
Lin Xian received the text after the group photos were done and everyone had dispersed back to the dorms to change. After the performance, Shi Man had told Lin Xian her sister was coming to pick her up by car and asked if Lin Xian wanted a ride. Lin Xian’s clothes were so soaked you could wring a whole bucket of water out of them. A few dorming classmates she was friendly with invited her to come to their dorm to towel off and borrow a dry T-shirt. Lin Xian thought it over and declined Shi Man’s offer, deciding to borrow a dry T-shirt from a classmate’s dorm and head home on her own. She wasn’t sure if Shi Man’s route was along the way, and she didn’t want to inconvenience her too much.
When she saw Xiao Wanqing’s caring text, she was still on her way to the classmate’s dorm, and her eyes couldn’t help but well up with a ripple of warmth. She looked down at herself—there wasn’t a single dry spot left on her body. After a moment’s thought, she replied: “It’s fine, no need to come pick me up. I’ll head home on my own. Don’t worry, I didn’t get caught in the rain. I’ll just borrow an umbrella.”
The rain was so heavy outside. Making Xiao Wanqing go out of her way to come get her would be too much trouble. Besides, driving in this weather meant heightened danger on the roads—Lin Xian didn’t feel comfortable with that either. So she told a small, well-intentioned lie and turned down Xiao Wanqing’s offer.
However, even after she changed into a dry T-shirt and blow-dried her hair, her underclothes and pants were still wet. She was desperate to get home before Xiao Wanqing and shower clean, destroying the evidence. Since she couldn’t find a spare umbrella to borrow, Lin Xian stood at the dorm building entrance for a long time. When the rain finally eased up considerably, she prepared to make a dash for it. Suddenly—there was an umbrella, held out right in front of her.
“Lin… Lin Xian, you don’t have an umbrella? Here.” The voice was clean, slightly magnetic, a young man’s voice touched with shyness.
Lin Xian looked up. The first thing she noticed was a broad, large hand—pale and smooth, with long fingers but knuckles that were thick and disproportionate. Following the hand gripping the umbrella upward, Lin Xian recognized him: one of the boys who had been staring at her from the stands.
She gave the boy a level look, lowered her lashes, and declined in a flat voice: “Thanks, no thanks.” With that, she spread her removed military jacket open, held it over her head, and strode forward in long steps, plunging into the curtain of rain.
As she ran, another hand floated unbidden into her mind—slender fingers, tapered like scallions, nails trimmed neatly and spotlessly clean, as gentle and refined as the person they belonged to.
While waiting for the bus, Lin Xian held up her own hand and looked at it, then thought back to that boy’s hand, and even Zhou Qin’s hand, Shi Man’s hand. A feeling suddenly welled up inside her: no one compares to Auntie Xiao.
On the bus ride home, Lin Xian shivered uncontrollably, sneezing several times in a row. The moment she got home and found that Xiao Wanqing wasn’t back yet, she didn’t even have time for a sip of hot water. She sprinted into the bathroom, washed her hair and showered, didn’t even stop to blow-dry her hair, and then immediately washed her soaked clothes—swift, efficient, a perfect job of destroying the evidence.
On a day of heavy rain, everyone was in a rush to get home, and rushing led to accidents. Xiao Wanqing got off work half an hour early but hit traffic nearly the entire way home. By the time she arrived, she was actually half an hour later than usual.
She frowned slightly, wearily massaging her temples as she took out her keys to open the door.
Lin Xian had already blow-dried her hair and was sitting in the living room watching TV. When she heard the security door, she leaped up at once and ran to the entryway to greet Xiao Wanqing.
The moment Xiao Wanqing opened the door, she was met with Lin Xian’s bright, radiant smile and the sweet greeting: “Auntie Xiao, you’re home!” Instantly, the warmth in her chest swelled, and all the chill and exhaustion of the day vanished. Her brow smoothed, her eyes softened, and she answered Lin Xian: “Mm, traffic was bad, so I came home a bit late. Are you hungry?”
Lin Xian reached out to take Xiao Wanqing’s umbrella and put it away, shaking her head with a smile: “Not hungry. I accidentally ate too much at lunch.”
Xiao Wanqing gave a soft laugh, closed the door, and studied Lin Xian carefully, still concerned: “You’ve already showered? Did you get caught in the rain on the way home?”
Lin Xian grinned wide, lips red, teeth white: “Of course not. I borrowed a classmate’s umbrella.”
Xiao Wanqing glanced around the apartment, half-believing, half-doubting: “Then where’s the umbrella?”
Lin Xian froze for a split second, then recovered quickly: “We were on the same bus. Her place is just up ahead. We only had the one umbrella between us, so she walked me home first and then took it back to her place.” To dispel Xiao Wanqing’s suspicions and avoid any further questioning on the matter, Lin Xian first reached out and took hold of Xiao Wanqing’s ice-cold hand, then pressed her advantage, lacing her fingers through Xiao Wanqing’s, interlacing them tightly. She smiled: “Feel my hand—it’s nice and warm, isn’t it? I really didn’t get caught in the rain.”
Caught off guard by the firm grip, Xiao Wanqing’s first reflex was to pull her hand back slightly. But in the next second, she saw Lin Xian’s youthful, vivid face and those crescent-shaped smiling eyes, and she gradually relaxed, letting Lin Xian hold her hand, feeling the girl’s body heat seep through.
Xiao Wanqing couldn’t remember how long it had been since she had last let someone hold her hand like this—freely, without tension. She had nearly forgotten that when ten fingers interlaced tightly, if you paid attention, the sensation could feel this grounding, this warm.
Lin Xian had a vague sense that Xiao Wanqing didn’t like this kind of intimate contact, yet she herself thoroughly enjoyed it. But to her surprise, she felt Xiao Wanqing’s fingers close just slightly tighter around hers. Then she heard Xiao Wanqing’s voice—gentle, pleasant, tinged with a faint, happy smile—confirm: “It is warm.”
She looked up in surprise, gazing straight into Xiao Wanqing’s clear, bright eyes. There, reflected in those eyes, was a small version of herself, her gaze shimmering with brilliant joy. And the Xiao Wanqing in her own eyes was just the same—eyes flowing with light, the smile entirely genuine.
The author has something to say:
The secondary couple has finally appeared~
Do you think Auntie Xiao can still be the top? Her hands are so beautiful…〃∀〃
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