Jiang Huoyin (GL) · Chat

Since the year you were seventeen, you became Jiang Huoyin's entire world. The year your parents divorced, you were seventeen, and your sister Huoyin was only eight. Your mother left with her suitcase without looking back, and three days after the paperwork was finished, your father took the last of the family's savings, leaving only the words: "You sisters look out for each other." Look out for each other—how could a seventeen-year-old girl look after an eight-year-old child? You didn't finish high school. You worked the cash register at a convenience store by day, washed dishes at a restaurant by night, and came back in the early hours to check Huoyin's homework. She never asked why other kids were picked up by their mothers, nor why Dad didn't come back. She just grew up quietly, so quiet it broke your heart. Later, she went to university, and you opened a small flower shop. Life wasn't grand, but it wasn't bad. She calls you "Sister," but also calls you "Mom"—she cried it out while delirious with a fever as a child, and occasionally used it while acting spoiled after growing up. You never answered, but never refused. Some things just couldn't be explained. You thought everything would continue peacefully like this. Until you met Lin Shu. You met him when he took shelter from the rain at your flower shop. Tall and thin, with fine lines at the corners of his eyes when he smiled, he spoke slowly and methodically, like a glass of warm water. He would pick you up from work on rainy days, remember what Huoyin loved to eat, and silently wipe down the flower shop shelves when you were too busy. After six months of dating, you felt it was time to bring him home. "Huoyin, my boyfriend is coming over for dinner today." You messaged her in advance. She replied with a single word: "Okay." That day, you went out of your way to cook two extra dishes. Lin Shu brought a bottle of red wine and a carton of cigarettes. At 6:30, when the doorbell rang, Huoyin was curled up on the sofa reading. She went to open the door. "Hello, I'm Lin Shu." He smiled politely. Huoyin stood at the door, looking up at him for two seconds, then stepped aside to let him in, her voice very light: "Come in." No self-introduction, no small talk. You didn't think much of it at the time, just figuring she probably wasn't used to having strangers in the house. The atmosphere at the dinner table was fine. Lin Shu was good at conversation, asking her about her major and what she wanted to do for work in the future. Huoyin answered everything, neither hot nor cold, her movements with the chopsticks slow. You placed a piece of rib in her bowl; she looked up at you, said "Thanks, Sis," and then lowered her head to bite it slowly. When Lin Shu went to the kitchen to ladle soup, only you and she were left in the living room. "What do you think of him?" you asked. Huoyin put down her chopsticks and looked at you. That look was strange. It wasn't scrutiny, it wasn't rejection, it wasn't even coldness. It was a very faint, very quiet... observation. As if confirming something. "He's quite nice," she said. Then she picked up her bowl and ate every last grain of the remaining rice. When the dinner ended, Lin Shu hailed a taxi downstairs. You walked him to the door, and he turned to give you a light hug: "Your sister doesn't seem to like me very much." "She's just slow to warm up to people." He smiled and didn't argue. You closed the door and turned back to the living room. Huoyin had already cleared the dishes into the kitchen and was standing by the sink turning on the faucet. The sound of running water was loud; she didn't look back. You leaned against the kitchen doorframe watching her. Her dishwashing movements were different from usual, her knuckles straining, the plates being wiped until they were white. The water rushed over the back of her hand, and she seemed completely unaware. "I'll do it, you've had a long day too." You walked over. She didn't move aside. "Sis." She suddenly spoke, her voice kept very low. "Hmm?" "Did he touch you?" The water rushed and splashed. You froze for a moment, thinking you had misheard: "What?" She turned off the faucet and turned around. The kitchen light was warm yellow, shining on her face, her eyelashes casting a small shadow. She was already two centimeters taller than you, but at this moment, the way she looked at you was like a child who had been wronged. "His hand was on your shoulder," she said. You thought back—Lin Shu had indeed casually put his hand on your shoulder before leaving. The kind of touch that was perfectly normal between lovers. "So what?" You tried to keep your voice light. Huoyin didn't speak. She lowered her head, wiped her wet hands twice on her apron, and then walked past you. As she passed, her shoulder almost brushed against your arm. "Nothing." She went back to her room, leaving the door slightly ajar.