Chapter 326: Fu Yujun & Guan Han [23]

Guan Han's hand was held tightly by Fu Yujun. Since Guan Han tended to sweat easily, her palm soon felt hot and sticky, and she wanted to pull it back to let it breathe. However, the moment she made a move, Fu Yujun's eyelashes fluttered slightly, and her fingers tightened even more firmly.

Guan Han abandoned the idea.

Her phone was nowhere to be seen, probably tossed into some corner. With her thumb, she gently stroked the back of Fu Yujun's hand, then lifted it softly and pressed kisses to it, all while keeping an eye on whether Fu Yujun had woken up.

Fu Yujun, half-asleep and half-awake, vaguely saw the figure sitting by the bed kissing the back of her hand and couldn't help but smile faintly.

This dream was so much better than last night's.

Guan Han suddenly realized that kissing was an addictive act. Before, when Fu Yujun frequently asked her for kisses, she hadn't felt it so strongly—perhaps because the desire to kiss had always been satisfied in advance. But now, with Fu Yujun lying there asleep, silent and still, Guan Han gazed at her gentle, serene sleeping face and couldn't resist leaning down to kiss her from the brow all the way to the lips.

Not wanting to disturb the patient, she kept it brief and light.

Having a girlfriend was wonderful—she could kiss her whenever she wanted, without worrying about being caught, and even if she were, it was perfectly justified.

Fu Yujun finally fell into a deep sleep, a faint smile lingering at the corners of her lips.

Guan Han carefully extracted her fingers, tucked the blanket snugly around Fu Yujun, and quietly slipped out, closing the door behind her.

As an actress who rarely cooked, her refrigerator usually contained only some fruit. But Fu Yujun, eager to showcase her culinary skills to Guan Han, had unusually stocked the fridge to the brim. The kitchen cabinets were also filled with a variety of rice.

Guan Han effortlessly gathered the ingredients, rinsed the rice, and started a pot of congee.

Afterward, she found her phone on the dining table and replied to a few work-related messages. Then, with practiced ease, she went to the guest room to take a shower, changed out of the clothes Fu Yujun had rumpled, and slipped into a long-sleeved, long-legged set of loungewear.

Outside, the sky had completely darkened, and the aroma of purple rice wafted from the clay pot on the stove.

Using a cloth to protect her hand, Guan Han lifted the lid, added the ingredients that cooked the fastest—longan, red dates, and walnuts—stirred them in, and covered the pot again.

As she set the cloth back on the counter, she glanced over and saw a figure leaning against the kitchen door. She was about to smile, but the moment she noticed the bare feet on the floor, her expression instantly turned cold.

"You..." She rubbed her temples, suppressing the rising anger, and asked in a low voice, "Why are you running around barefoot?"

Fu Yujun curled her toes and hid behind the wall, peeking out with only her head visible.

Guan Han felt both displeased and amused.

Knowing she had a cold, yet not wearing socks or shoes—did she think Guan Han wouldn't notice?

Fu Yujun whispered softly, "I thought you had left."

Perhaps illness magnified emotions exponentially. When she woke up alone in the room, she had nearly broken down in tears again, frantically rushing out to search for Guan Han.

Finally, she found her in the kitchen. Steam rose from the pot of hot congee, and Guan Han, dressed in simple pink loungewear with slippers on her feet, had her long hair loosely tied into a low ponytail.

She held the lid in one hand while dropping ingredients into the pot with the other, stirring with a long-handled wooden spoon. The lines of her profile were both sharp and soft.

She hadn't left. She was still here, cooking congee for her.

Fu Yujun was completely captivated.

It wasn't until Guan Han's gaze snapped her back to reality.

Guan Han emerged from the kitchen, frowning as she walked. "When have I ever gone back on my word?" she said.

Whether as a manager or a girlfriend, she believed she had always fulfilled her duties conscientiously.

Fu Yujun gave an awkward, sheepish smile and said, "I'll go back right now."

Guan Han called out to her retreating figure, "Stop."

Fu Yujun turned back.

Without a word, Guan Han picked her up into her arms.

Having learned from past experience, Fu Yujun wrapped her arms tightly around Guan Han's neck, closed her eyes, and braced herself for another rollercoaster ride.

But after a moment, she still hadn't been whisked away.

Fu Yujun wondered if she had already d!ed on the spot, her soul separated from her body. When she opened her eyes, she saw Guan Han's indescribable expression. "What are you doing?" Guan Han asked, looking as though she were about to be assaulted.

Fu Yujun's courage began to return slightly, and she retorted, "What do you want to do?"

Guan Han said, "The congee is almost ready. Eat before you sleep."

Fu Yujun replied, "So?"

Guan Han answered with action.

She carried Fu Yujun to the living room sofa, gently set her down, went back to the room to fetch a pair of slippers, and somehow produced a pair of socks from somewhere else.

As Guan Han's warm hand clasped Fu Yujun's ankle and began to slip the sock onto her foot, Fu Yujun's face suddenly flushed, and she instinctively tried to pull her foot back.

Guan Han looked up, her tone indifferent. "Do you want to put them on yourself?"

Fu Yujun immediately nodded.

The moment she nodded, she wished she could wring her own neck! Why had she refused such an opportunity—her beloved helping her put on socks?

But it was too late for regrets. Guan Han released her ankle, handed her the socks, and instructed, "Put them on before you start playing around. I'll go check on the congee."

Fu Yujun thought, utterly perplexed, What exactly gave her the impression that I love to play around?

She watched Guan Han's retreating figure disappear into the kitchen, then lowered her head to put on the socks.

True to her role as a manager-mom, Guan Han had brought thick winter socks with a layer of fleece inside. After putting them on, Fu Yujun's toes were sweating, but this was Guan Han's affection—pain and joy intertwined.

Having slept, Fu Yujun felt much better. Her cheerful mood made her body feel more comfortable, and she couldn't sit still for long before she couldn't resist following Guan Han into the kitchen again.

Guan Han glanced down at her feet clad in fluffy socks and slippers but showed no further signs of annoyance.

"Hungry? It'll be a little longer," Guan Han said gently. Beside her, bowls and spoons were laid out as she waited for the ingredients in the pot to soften completely.

Without a word, Fu Yujun shuffled in wearing her slippers, reached out her arms, and wrapped them around Guan Han's waist from behind.

Guan Han guided her a couple of steps away from the stove before returning the embrace, her fingers slipping under Fu Yujun's clothes to gently stroke her sleek, dark hair.

Fu Yujun's hair was exceptionally well-maintained—fine, soft, cool, and smooth. Guan Han couldn't help but caress it back and forth, reluctant to let go.

Amid the gentle bubbling sounds, the sweet aroma of longan and red dates wafted from the clay pot.

Suddenly, the strands of hair slipped through her fingers. Guan Han was momentarily taken aback—Fu Yujun had lifted her face from her shoulder and was now gazing directly into her eyes.

Fu Yujun's eyes were a deep tea color, with pupils that took up a large portion, making them always appear clear and focused. In her pupils, Guan Han saw her own clear reflection, as if she alone occupied Fu Yujun's entire world.

Fu Yujun released her hold on Guan Han's waist, took her hand, and delicately intertwined their fingers, locking them together in a perfect fit.

Guan Han's heart suddenly began to beat a little faster, and she instinctively averted her gaze.

Fu Yujun caught both of her hands, holding them at her sides, while leaning even closer to her.

Guan Han felt an indescribable fluster—not born of fear or dread, but from a kind of uncontrollable panic she couldn't quite decipher.

Fu Yujun murmured softly, "Guan Han."

Guan Han responded with an equally soft "Hmm."

"Look at me."

Guan Han slowly turned her face back, her eyes locking onto the woman's gaze.

It was too quiet. In the kitchen, aside from the sound of the porridge boiling and bubbling in the clay pot on the stove, there was nothing else. This sole movement in the silence only made it feel even more tranquil.

Guan Han lowered her gaze to Fu Yujun's red lips and involuntarily swallowed.

She secretly observed Fu Yujun's expression and noticed that the other woman's breathing had quickened, her warm breath brushing against Guan Han's cheeks. Her eyes were fixed intently on Guan Han's lips.

The atmosphere was electric, ready to ignite at any moment.

Guan Han thought: 'Why hasn't she asked me to kiss her yet? Or, why hasn't she kissed me herself?'

'Never mind.'

Guan Han took the initiative and pressed her lips against the woman's, simultaneously switching positions with Fu Yujun. She braced her hands on the marble counter behind Fu Yujun, trapping her between her arms. Once their lips met, there was no turning back.

The two of them began to kiss passionately.

A sweet warmth spread from her throat down to her heart.

Guan Han alternated between gently nibbling on Fu Yujun's lips and fervently tasting and sucking them, causing Fu Yujun's fingers to curl and tremble uncontrollably.

Guan Han's assertiveness nearly left Fu Yujun breathless. She reached out and gently pushed against Guan Han's shoulders. Guan Han immediately stopped and pulled her lips away. Just as Fu Yujun began to regret it, Guan Han tilted her head and kissed her again.

If the first kiss was a storm, this one was a gentle drizzle.

They kissed quietly and unhurriedly for a long time, pausing occasionally to catch their breath, but every time their eyes met, they couldn't resist leaning in again.

It felt as though they could never get enough, wishing time would stand still in that moment, lasting for eternity.

Guan Han sensed a strange yet familiar thrill, her heart swelling with emotion. It reminded her of when she first fell for Fu Yujun, but now it felt even more intense.

Peering over Guan Han's shoulder, Fu Yujun caught sight of the stove behind her and suddenly said, "The congee seems about to boil over."

Guan Han glanced back and replied, "Yes."

Fu Yujun chuckled, "Aren't you going to turn off the heat?"

Guan Han: "..."

Her reaction delayed, she moved to turn off the stove. Lost in thought, she reached directly for the pot lid. Before Fu Yujun could warn her, Guan Han let out a soft hiss, pulling her fingers back—they were bright red.

Fu Yujun swiftly grabbed her hand and held it under cold running water.

Guan Han curled her slender fingers slightly, trying to pull back, and said nonchalantly, "It's fine, it didn't even blister."

"If it blisters, it'll be too late!" Fu Yujun scolded her with rare sternness.

Fu Yujun had never been harsh with her before. Guan Han blinked slowly and fell silent.

After rinsing her hand with cold water, Fu Yujun took her hand and led her toward the bedroom.

Guan Han asked, "What are you doing?"

Fu Yujun replied, "I'm going to apply some burn ointment."

Guan Han thought she was overreacting and said dismissively, "There's no need. Let me serve you some congee. You haven't eaten all day—aren't you hungry?"

She stopped walking. As a martial artist, her stance was firm and steady, and Fu Yujun couldn't budge her an inch.

Fu Yujun stood in place, her eyes slowly reddening as tears began to fall without warning.

Guan Han: "..."

'Ahhh, I can't handle her.'

Guan Han was so distressed she nearly tore her hair out, immediately backtracking, "I'll apply it, I'll do it right now. I'll apply it myself."

Fu Yujun choked back a sob, "Let me do it for you."

Guan Han complied without question, "Fine, whatever you say."

Fu Yujun wiped her tears, sniffled, and found the burn ointment in the first aid kit. She had Guan Han sit on the small sofa in the bedroom while she knelt on the floor, disinfecting a cotton swab before applying the medicine.

Several of Guan Han's fingers were scalded, their tips flushed red, with a small blister forming on her ring finger. Fu Yujun retrieved a fine needle, sterilized it with alcohol, and carefully lanced the blister. The minor pain didn't even make Guan Han flinch, yet Fu Yujun's tears fell in steady drops.

Guan Han: "...Why are you crying again? Just tell me what you want me to do—don't just stay silent."

Fu Yujun: "..."

Why is this person so blunt?

Fu Yujun shot her a teary glare, exasperated, "Can't I just feel sorry for you?"

Guan Han fell silent for a long moment before mumbling awkwardly, "Oh."

Fu Yujun said, "It's like how you feel sorry for me when you see me walking around barefoot."

Guan Han corrected her, "I was angry."

Fu Yujun asked, "Would you be angry if someone else walked around without slippers?"

"Why would I care about others?" Guan Han looked utterly baffled.

Fu Yujun carefully squeezed the fluid from the blister on her ring finger and said, "Anger comes from concern. You like me, that's why you're so worried about me, even fetching me socks and slippers."

"But I didn't cry."

"That just means you don't like me as much as I like you." Fu Yujun replied, her tone now light and playful.

Guan Han let out a scoffing laugh.

Fu Yujun asked, "What's so funny?"

Guan Han said, "I admit what you're saying is true, but I've never heard of judging how much someone likes you by whether they cry or not." Qin Yinong and Miss Yao were always flaunting their affection, but neither of them ever cried their eyes out.

Fu Yujun suddenly smiled and said, "But you've cried before."

Guan Han clicked her tongue, "When did I—" She abruptly cut herself off.

As a former all-around assistant, Guan Han had an exceptionally sharp memory. Given a key detail, her mind would automatically retrieve the related scene. In moments of overwhelming desire, Fu Yujun was like a conductor wielding a baton on a symphony stage, and Guan Han could only follow along as she played one movement after another—sometimes soft and murmuring, sometimes surging and intense.

Had she cried? In the end, it seemed she had buried her face in Fu Yujun's chest, sobbing softly and begging for mercy.

Fu Yujun met her evasive gaze, a faint, knowing smile playing on her lips.

Guan Han's bravado instantly vanished. She raised her voice in a hollow show of authority, "Are you done yet?"

Fu Yujun tossed the cotton swab into the trash, leaned down, and gently kissed Guan Han's palm. "All done."

Guan Han shot her an awkward glance, then awkwardly stood up and walked out. Fu Yujun followed at a leisurely pace, watching as Guan Han used her freshly scalded fingers to serve her a bowl of congee.

Fu Yujun wanted to help, but the other woman was stubborn—perhaps still feeling the lingering awkwardness—and wouldn't let her near the stove.

"Go wait outside." Guan Han ordered.

Fu Yujun ignored her.

In the end, the two of them were equally unyielding.

Guan Han couldn't be bothered to argue with her. It wasn't the first time Fu Yujun had ignored her advice—letting her be was the best approach. She calmly ladled two bowls of congee, fried two egg pancakes, arranged them on a plate, and brought them to the dining table.

After taking a bite of the pancake, she remarked, "It's a bit salty. You'll have to make do."

Fu Yujun replied, "It's fine. It goes well with the congee."

She ate every last bite, alternating between the pancake and congee, leaving not a single grain of rice in her bowl. Rubbing her full stomach, she let out a satisfied burp.

A faint smile tugged at the corner of Guan Han's lips as she lowered her gaze.

After clearing the dishes, Guan Han took Fu Yujun's temperature as she sat on the sofa watching a movie—36.8°C. She then went to the kitchen to fetch a glass of warm water and handed it to her, saying, "Drink it."

Fu Yujun cradled the cup with both hands, her eyes fixed on Guan Han's, and gulped it down in one go.

She returned the cup, looking utterly docile.

Guan Han reached out and gently ruffled her hair before going back to pour another, hotter cup of water, which she left on the coffee table to cool.

The wall clock showed 9 p.m. Fu Yujun hugged a pillow, growing increasingly restless.

Was Guan Han about to go home?

Why had her fever subsided so quickly? Would taking a cold shower now make it come back?

"Fu Yujun."

A soft voice reached her ears. Fu Yujun unconsciously bit her lower lip, her eyes once again tinged with a faint, uncontrollable redness.

Was she leaving? Should she try to make her stay?

Guan Han glanced at the notes she had made on her phone while Fu Yujun was asleep and let out an imperceptible sigh. "There's something I'd like to discuss with you." she said.

Suppressing her sorrow, Fu Yujun lifted her slightly reddened eyelids.

Guan Han was taken aback.

Rubbing her eyes, Fu Yujun offered a feeble explanation: "A bug just flew into my eye."

Guan Han gave a noncommittal hum. Fu Yujun had no idea whether she believed her or not, and her fingers tightened around the pillow.

Choosing her words carefully, Guan Han spoke in a slightly somber tone, "Are you... afraid of me?"

Fu Yujun looked momentarily stunned.

Guan Han continued, "What I mean is... ever since we started dating, you seem to be afraid of me." Though she used the word "seem," her expression conveyed certainty. She interlaced her fingers and spoke gently, "It wasn't like this before. Can you tell me why?"

Fu Yujun clenched her lips tightly.

So, she wasn't the only one who had noticed the issue. The state of their relationship wasn't solely Guan Han's fault—the bigger problem lay with Fu Yujun herself. She was overly cautious, constantly anxious about gains and losses. The more she feared losing Guan Han, the more she struggled to maintain a balanced mindset. She couldn't bring herself to invest in this hard-won relationship with a healthy attitude, terrified that Guan Han would grow tired of her, that she would become a burden, and even dreaming of their breakup.

How could a relationship built on self-doubt inspire trust in the other person? Especially when that person was Guan Han, who already struggled with trust.

Guan Han's first relationship had been almost frivolous, leaving her with virtually no experience. Without positive feedback or emotional resonance, she rigidly adhered to the rules she had set. Fu Yujun noticed this but didn't dare speak up, afraid that these were the boundaries Guan Han had drawn for her. She didn't dare cross that line, terrified that doing so would mark the end of their relationship.

One was confused, unsure how to express herself; the other was overly cautious, clinging to the safety of her comfort zone. Their souls remained distant, their embraces and kisses feeling as if separated by an invisible pane of glass—cold and devoid of warmth.

Love is love—a thunder from the heavens, a fire from the earth. It demands the collision of passion and sparks, the irresistible urge to draw closer to one another.

The two of them were like water and firewood. Guan Han's boiling point was 100 degrees. When the water reached 80 degrees, she chose to be with Fu Yujun. Fu Yujun should have seized the moment to bring the water to a boil, but she hesitated, gradually turning down the heat until the temperature began to drop.

Seeing her silence, Guan Han spoke more clearly and candidly, "I prefer the way you used to be—clever, sly, occasionally pulling off a bit of harmless mischief. You were sincere and passionate."

She continued, "I liked that version of you. The one who first moved me was that you."

Fu Yujun lowered her head, her thin lips pressed into a tight line.

Guan Han thought for a moment and said earnestly, "Have I been more irritable lately? If so, please tell me. I might not have noticed it myself."

Guan Han had once come across a saying online: when people fall in love, they unconsciously reveal another side of themselves, completely different from how they appear to others. She wondered if, without realizing it, she had been harsh to Fu Yujun, like today, unable to control herself. Even if she had no memory of such behavior, memories could lie. She was accustomed to looking for problems within herself.

Guan Han added, "You don't need to be afraid or worry about my pride. I promise I won't get angry."

Fu Yujun's knuckles turned white from the force of her grip. Suddenly, she lifted her head and said, "No, it's not your problem. It's my fault."

Guan Han tilted her head slightly.

Fu Yujun took a deep breath and looked at her. "It's my fault. I'm afraid that if I do something wrong, you'll break up with me."

Guan Han furrowed her brow.

Suppressing the tremor in her voice, Fu Yujun blurted out in one go, "Last night, I had a dream. I dreamed I wanted to visit your home and even made an excuse to buy groceries to cook for you. But you said no and then broke up with me."

Guan Han's expression turned complex, tinged with a subtle sense of speechlessness.

"So this is how you see me."

Fu Yujun resisted the urge to lower her head and evade. Instead, she asked directly, "Then how are you, really? If I proposed it in reality, how would you react?"

Finally, Fu Yujun regained her long-lost emotional and social intelligence. Guan Han was rational and calm, but she was by no means heartless or unfeeling. She rarely lost her temper and was extremely patient. Unless someone truly provoked her, she would at most ignore them.

Guan Han, who preferred straightforwardness, answered plainly, "I'd refuse you."

"And then?"

"That's it." Guan Han spread her hands, expressing disbelief at her dream. "Is that something worth getting so worked up about? Unless you showed up in my room without my permission."

Fu Yujun raised her hand. "I have another question."

Guan Han lifted her chin, signaling for her to continue.

Fu Yujun asked, "Can I call you in the middle of the night? Last night, I woke up from a nightmare and was terrified. I was afraid of disturbing your sleep, so I sat by the bed until morning, waiting for you to wake up and reply to my message before I dared to sleep. That's why I caught a cold."

Guan Han's face remained expressionless.

Fu Yujun's tone grew cautious as she tentatively asked, "Can I call you next time I have a nightmare?"

Guan Han seemed to hear something utterly unbelievable and remained silent for a long while.

After what felt like an eternity, she closed her eyes and said, "Yes."

Fu Yujun watched her rubbing her temples and asked, "Are you unhappy?"

"No." Guan Han closed her eyes, pressing a hand over her heart, a faint expression of pain crossing her face.

"Is your heart bothering you?"

"No. I just..." Guan Han felt a wave of unfamiliar emotions surging over her and murmured softly, "Suddenly felt my heart ache."

"Should I call a doctor?" Fu Yujun circled around her anxiously, like an ant on a hot pan.

"..." Guan Han opened her eyes, looked at her, and resumed her usual calm tone. "It doesn't hurt anymore."

What kind of person is this? Can't do anything right, but always the first to ruin the mood.

Guan Han had finally started to open up a little, only to have it abruptly shut down by her.

Fu Yujun took her hand, brought it to her lips, and kissed it gently, her eyes crinkling with tenderness. "I don't want you to feel heartache."

Guan Han had nothing more to say.

She recalled how she often marveled at Tang Ruoyao's words: "As expected of you, Miss Yao." It turned out her own girlfriend was just as skilled. Being in the moment, she could feel the sudden flutter and ache in her heart even more intensely.

Guan Han opened her arms and said, "Come here."

Fu Yujun settled into her embrace. Guan Han wrapped her arms around her waist, rested her chin on her shoulder, and the two nestled together, feeling the warmth of each other's bodies.

Guan Han kissed Fu Yujun's temple and asked, "Do you know why I suggested we start dating?"

Fu Yujun replied without a hint of modesty, "Because I'm beautiful, gentle, and adorable."

Guan Han chuckled. "Yes."

Fu Yujun poked her chest and asked, "Is this what you like about me?"

Guan Han laughed, her eyes curving into crescents. "Yes."

"So you like this kind of vibe," Fu Yujun caught on immediately. "Alright, I'll remember that." Acting naturally was a piece of cake for her.

Back to the main topic.

Guan Han said, "When I proposed the idea of dating, it wasn't just to give you a choice but also to give myself an opportunity. I've spent many years alone and was convinced I would continue that way for the rest of my life. Before meeting you, I never considered another path. I like you—perhaps more than I realized—and I wanted to try with you, to see if a life for two could be just as fulfilling. If you had chosen to leave me, I would have been deeply regretful, because I might have missed out on another kind of scenery forever."

"You chose me, and I'm very happy. Have I ever told you? I laughed under the covers for a long time. Before I got your answer, I never expected to hope so much that you would choose me."

"I'm a very rigid person, with rules for everything I do. When I practiced martial arts as a child—what time to wake up, what time to sleep, how long to hold a horse stance, how much weight to carry while running—I never needed my master to supervise me. I organized everything meticulously. This is my first time being in a relationship. Oh, that junior brother doesn't count—I barely paid him any attention. No one taught me how to be in a relationship, and I was afraid I wouldn't do it well, so I made a list and wrote down everything I should do. There were many items on it."

"A list?" Fu Yujun widened her eyes as if she had heard the most absurd thing. Was she in a relationship or drafting a contract?

Guan Han said, "It's at my place. If you want to see it, I can bring it to you tomorrow."

Fu Yujun refrained from commenting and said, "Go on."

Distracted by her interruption, Guan Han took a moment to gather her thoughts before continuing awkwardly, "Well, in short, you don't need to be so careful. I'm also afraid you'll find me boring or not interesting enough and break up with me." After a pause, she added clumsily, in her typical Guan Han-style comfort, "My cooking isn't even as good as yours."

Author's Note: 

Can't finish writing for now, stopping here. I'll always adore the clumsy romance between newbies.

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