After Confessing To My Childhood Friend - Chapter 29

Chapter 29:  Back to School

◎ “You haven’t kissed me in so long” ◎

The three-day National Day holiday flew by in an instant.

On the night they returned, Chen Mengyin had already pre-ordered barbecue at the station. Just as they arrived home, the food was delivered. They barely unpacked before diving into skewers in the living room.

After dinner, they carried their luggage upstairs, tossed the worn clothes into the washing machine, and started it again.

“Ah, home feels so good,” Chen Mengyin sighed, itching to flop onto her bed. But quick-thinking Xie Zhirou stopped her. “First, shower and change.”

Realizing her barbecue-scented clothes would ruin the sheets—and that dear Zhirou would probably ground her if she ruined the room—she obediently went to wash up.

Meanwhile, Zhirou neatly organized the souvenirs they brought home. By the time Chen Mengyin emerged from the shower, everything was in order: even the sky-blue bedding had been swapped for pink—yet Zhirou herself was nowhere to be found.

On the first floor, the living room lights were on, though they’d shut them off before heading upstairs. In the kitchen, Zhirou was slicing fruit at the island. Hearing footsteps, she called, “What took you so long? After all that barbecue, I thought fruit would be refreshing.”

Her silhouette in the apron highlighted her slim figure. Chen Mengyin snuck up behind, hugging her waist and inhaling Zhirou’s sweet lily-of-the-valley scent.

“Open wide,” Zhirou offered a slice of watermelon to her mouth. It was cold and juicy—“So sweet!” Mengyin exclaimed, then offered a piece in return.

Zhirou smiled, ate, then gestured for the cutting board so she could wash up before showering.

“I got it,” Chen Mengyin insisted, grabbing the board. “You take the fruit upstairs and shower first.”

Zhirou accepted the trade and headed off.

They were exhausted from the beach days. After fruit and brushing their teeth, they crawled into bed and fell asleep. Next morning, if not for Zhirou’s wake-up call, Mengyin would’ve been late.

“Close call! Thank goodness you woke me,” she said as they rushed into class with breakfast in hand, just under teacher Zhu Ling’s stare.

During silent reading, everyone recited aloud—except for the last two desks in the third row. Behind a wall of textbooks, two fuzzy heads hid while secretly snacking. Zhu Ling? She definitely spotted them, but pretended not to see.

“Mengyin, food’s important for strength,” came a whisper. Chen Mengyin munched on her bread, then plopped the books down and started reciting from On Teachers. Zhirou nodded in agreement.

Post-holiday, teachers set aside lectures to review worksheets instead. Mengyin made some careless mistakes in math and English, losing nearly ten points. She earnestly tackled piles of practice problems, determined to recoup every point.

During homeroom, Zhu Ling announced dreaded news: A two-day quiz on Thursday, followed by a reshuffling of seats based on scores. “Don’t think anyone’s safe.” That was definitely for Chen Mengyin.

The class groaned. Mengyin flopped forward, quietly whimpering. Under the desk, Zhirou squeezed her hand to reassure her.

At first, it helped: Mengyin cracked jokes in class, asked questions, chatted after school, went on walks with classmates—she seemed okay.

But within days, she became hyper-focused—burying herself in English textbooks and math practice sheets during break, after school, even at home memorizing phrases like “Nowadays, … has become a hot topic.” Her intensity gave Zhirou a headache.

One night, Zhirou grabbed the notes from her hands. “Go to sleep.”

“I still need to study!” Mengyin protested, trying to grab them back—but Zhirou locked them in a drawer.

?“You’re too stressed. It’s bad for your brain. Rest is most important before a test.” She pushed Mengyin onto the bed, turned off the light, and lay beside her. With a soft tone, she said, “You haven’t kissed me in days.”

That cut through Mengyin’s anxiety. She cuddled Zhirou, peppering her with kisses—but it wasn’t enough.

With determination, Zhirou flipped Mengyin onto her back, cupped her face, and kissed her deeply. Her flexible tongue opened Mengyin’s hesitant mouth, exploring sensually, eliciting shudders and breathless gasps.

Not content with just kissing, Zhirou moved down: neck, collarbones, tender traces of her lips leaving marks.

Mengyin’s hand tangled in Zhirou’s hair, eyes wide as she stared at the ceiling.

Suddenly, a cool, slender hand slid beneath Mengyin’s pajamas, fingertips brushing warm skin. She nearly yelped, body jumping—but melted back into Zhirou’s gentle kisses, softly rubbing Zhirou’s calf.

When the kiss ended, Zhirou gave two sweet pecks to Mengyin’s swollen lips. “Good girl, now sleep.”

Mengyin blushed and nodded. Zhirou softly whispered, “Sleep now. I’ve got the exams covered.”

Mengyin looked up and asked, “Can I have one more kiss? I can’t sleep.”

She felt Zhirou’s chest vibrate—she was smiling. Zhirou pressed her lips to Mengyin’s, softly. It felt like spring rain—not seen, but deeply felt.

Mengyin loved that kiss. She asked for more, but the night deepened, and Zhirou gently quieted her with a final kiss and declared, “Sleep.”

The next morning, Mengyin was back to her focused self—calm, confident, ready to crush the quiz and enjoy the first weekend after the holiday.

On Saturday morning, Li Ran returned from Beijing, swinging heavy bags in tow—including two roast ducks as gifts for Mengyin and Zhirou.

“Help me carry!” she called from downstairs.

Mengyin in pajamas yawned downstairs. “Mom? Didn’t you say you’d come back this afternoon?”

Li Ran grumbled in relief as she leaned the bags in the entryway. “It’s late—move it inside!”

“Got it!” Mengyin hauled one suitcase upstairs while Zhirou hurried down the stairs to help.

“That suitcase’s like a museum!” Mengyin joked on the way down.

Li Ran laughed. “Zhirou, don’t lift that. Mengyin, take care of pastries—roast ducks are for the freezer. I’ll cook later—what do you two want?”

Zhirou nodded. Mengyin had stayed up late studying after the test, so she hadn’t eaten breakfast. Li Ran pulled on an apron. “What do you want?”

Zhirou hesitated, thinking of how Li Ran still looked after her daughter and Zhirou both. She spoke shyly, “Mom, can I cook?”

Li Ran waved her off. “No, silly—just tell me what you want. I’ve got it.”

Zhirou admitted quietly, “…Noodles, please?”

In that moment, she felt deeply grateful to have such a generous mother-in-law figure—and a love that placed home and family above it all.