[Gold Powder GL] True Elegance Comes with Knowledge - Chapter 33

Yan Hui abruptly stood up with a sharp motion that startled the person in front of her. “What’s wrong?” they asked.

“Nothing,” she replied, shaking her slightly dizzy head. But even as the words left her mouth, she realized they were the wrong ones. Her mind was in chaos, and she needed to avoid Qingqiu. Quickly, she changed her story. “I think I had a few too many drinks. I’m a bit tipsy.”

Once she found a reason, the rest came easily. “I’ll have the driver take me home to rest. If you see Sister Peifang, please let her know for me.”

Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked swiftly toward the stairs. She couldn’t wait to escape this ill-fated place and find somewhere quiet to sort out her thoughts.

Her urge to flee was more than obvious.

Qingqiu instinctively took two steps after her, then stopped herself. “Don’t worry. I’ll let Sister Peifang know.”

When Yan Hui said she was “a bit tipsy,” it was, at least in part, a convenient excuse to get out of Qingqiu’s sight and calm herself down. But once she got into the car and was jostled all the way home, her mind truly did feel foggy. She washed up absentmindedly, didn’t even bother changing her clothes, and collapsed straight onto the bed.

Uncle Zhao noticed, quietly took off her shoes, covered her with a thick blanket, and left the room.

But in the middle of the night, Yan Hui began to feel hot. Her body instinctively struggled against the heavy covers that pinned her down, creating a suffocating cocoon she couldn’t escape.

In her half-dreaming state, she felt like she was back behind the curtains again—those thick drapes forming a tight, breathless space around her. She heard ragged breathing, the sound of rustling clothes, faint splashes of water… intimate sounds pressing in on all sides.

The temperature around her seemed to be rising. Her body grew hotter, and she instinctively tried to move backward—only to realize there was someone behind her.

Just as she turned, her lips were suddenly met with warmth.

Qingqiu’s face was inches from hers, their eyes locking in an intensely close gaze.

This time, in the dream, Yan Hui didn’t pull away like she did in reality. And Qingqiu didn’t seem to think that kiss needed any explanation.

After a moment’s pause, as if they shared a silent understanding, they leaned toward each other again, lips meeting in a kiss—not a fleeting touch, but a deep, lingering one.

Those muffled sounds faded, or perhaps they had only ever been created by the two of them. In such a cramped space, their bodies were pressed tightly together, the intimacy unbroken and inescapable.
Her heart pounded as if it might leap out of her chest.

Then suddenly, Yan Hui’s eyes snapped open.

The sensations from the dream—the rapid heartbeat, the shivering emotion—still lingered in her body. She lay there for a while, breath shallow, trying to steady herself.

The blanket had slipped off. A cold draft slipped in, making her shiver and fully waking her up.

She let out a long sigh, rolled over, and buried her face in the pillow, unable to believe she had just dreamed something so absurd.

Maybe it was the dream, but she felt something else stirring inside her—a restlessness, a yearning. She sat up and noticed a glass of water on the nightstand. Gratefully, she grabbed it and drank it all in one go.

Though the New Year had passed and the weather was slowly warming, the northern climate remained harsh. The water, having sat overnight, was ice-cold. As it slid down her throat and into her stomach, it shocked her fully awake.

Silently, she pulled the blanket back up and wrapped herself in it.

She had hoped to clear her thoughts—but the dream had only left her more confused.

She tossed and turned for a long time before finally drifting off again. When Xiaoping came in to wake her the next morning, she almost wanted to stay in bed. Partly because she hadn’t slept enough, and partly because it was the weekend. There were no classes, which meant Qingqiu would be coming over for tutoring—they’d have to spend the entire day together.

And if she stayed in bed, she wouldn’t have to face her.

But that was just wishful thinking. Xiaoping pulled back the covers, brought over her clothes, and said, “The teacher will be here soon.”

Yan Hui took a deep breath and sat up, defeated, to get dressed.

After all, she was the one who encouraged Qingqiu to apply to Peking University. She was the one who arranged the tutoring sessions. With exams approaching, this wasn’t the time to quit. No matter what her feelings for Qingqiu were, no matter what the future held for them, some things had already been set in motion—and couldn’t be changed.

A while later, Xiaoping came back with a basin of water. “Qingqiu is already here,” she said.

Yan Hui paused mid-motion as she was getting out of bed, then forced herself to keep a straight face—as if the name hadn’t affected her at all.

Stay calm, she told herself while brushing her hair in the mirror. It was just a dream. No one else knew. If that’s the case, then all she had to do was act like nothing happened.

Luckily, the tension between them lately had already been palpable. So maybe her disguise wouldn’t be too obvious… right?
—Of course not.

Despite all her mental preparation, the moment she stepped out of her room and met Qingqiu’s gaze, she immediately felt a wave of discomfort.

To avoid making it worse, she avoided Qingqiu’s eyes altogether. Even though she knew it would only make Qingqiu more suspicious, she didn’t know what else to do. So, she spent the entire session rigid and upright, her gaze locked on the tutor as if nailed in place, never once glancing sideways.

Even so, she could clearly feel Qingqiu watching her.

Or maybe, because she was not looking, it gave Qingqiu the freedom to look at her even more openly.

When the lessons ended and the teachers packed up and left, they couldn’t leave just yet—they still had to finish the assigned work. After all, school days were still busy. They couldn’t fall behind.

Yan Hui called for Xiaoping to bring tea and snacks and kept trying to find excuses to make her stay in the room.

But what was meant to happen would still happen. Once she ran out of excuses, and Xiaoping went off to help Uncle Zhao with cooking, Yan Hui could no longer stop it.

She stood, ready to leave—only for Qingqiu to speak first. “There were a few parts of the lesson I didn’t understand. You looked really focused—seemed like you got a lot out of it. Could you explain them to me?”

Yan Hui was sure that was shade—and she had proof.

She looked focused, but if even thirty percent of her attention had been on the lesson, it was a miracle. She had no idea how to teach anyone anything. So, she shook her head without hesitation. “I didn’t really get it either. We can ask them to go over it again next time.”

“That’s fine,” Qingqiu said, unrelenting. “Then let’s go over our notes together and mark the parts we didn’t understand.”

What could Yan Hui say? All she could do was grit her teeth and go through the notes with her.

When they finished, she was about to make her escape when Qingqiu said quietly, “You’re acting really strange today.”

“Am I?” Yan Hui brushed a lock of hair behind her ear awkwardly.

“You haven’t looked me in the eyes all day,” Qingqiu said calmly. “Not once.”

“That’s not true,” Yan Hui forced a laugh and turned her head to meet Qingqiu’s gaze, willing herself to suppress the urge to run. “See? Looking now.”

“Is this really bothering you that much?” Qingqiu suddenly asked.

Those beautiful eyes gazed at her steadily, tinged with a trace of sorrow. “You’ve always been brave about everything. Why is it that this is the one thing you’re afraid to face?”

Yan Hui stayed silent. Qingqiu leaned a little closer, and in her eyes, Yan Hui saw her own reflection.

“You’re the one who taught me to be honest about what I want,” Qingqiu said softly. “No need to hide it, no need to run from it. Wanting something isn’t wrong. So why is it, when I act on that, you’re the one retreating?”

Though her voice was calm, Yan Hui couldn’t shake the feeling that Qingqiu was deeply hurt.

And thinking back to how cold and distant she’d been lately, that wasn’t surprising. Someone like Qingqiu, so full of warmth and sincerity—being doused like that must have stung even more.

“I don’t believe you feel nothing for me,” Qingqiu said quietly.

“I…” Yan Hui wanted to explain but didn’t know where to start. After a long pause, she said, “It’s not that simple.”

“To me, it is simple. I like you. You like me.”

Yan Hui closed her eyes. “I can’t deny that. But… then what? Just because we like each other, does that mean we can be together? Your family, my family, your future, my future… those things matter.”

But Qingqiu suddenly smiled. Yan Hui looked at her in surprise, only to hear her say, with unwavering certainty, “Jin Yan Hui, you’re afraid.”

Yan Hui was speechless—and couldn’t deny it.

Yes, she was afraid. She was confident when it came to friendship. If she and Qingqiu stayed lifelong friends, she believed everything would go well. But romance… romance came with a thousand complications, things that couldn’t be boiled down to just “like” or “don’t like.”

If she couldn’t shoulder a future for the two of them, and still indulged herself in the name of love—then how was she any different from Jin Yanxi?

But this fear, this hesitation, this avoidance—must seem laughable to Qingqiu. It was so out of character from the bold, decisive person Yan Hui had always been.

Before she could even finish that thought, Qingqiu leaned in again.

Her face was very close, her eyes locked on Yan Hui’s. The warmth of her breath brushed Yan Hui’s lips, sending a noticeable shiver through her.

“You’re afraid—because of me,” she whispered. “The invincible Jin Yan Hui is afraid, because of me.” She gave a sly, knowing smile. “And you still claim you don’t like me?”

Yan Hui had no response.

“Family. The future.” Qingqiu paused. “You were always going to face those things when you decided to never marry. Now it’s just one more person—me. Think of me as another non-marriage type. Does that help ease your worries?”

To Qingqiu, Yan Hui’s concerns were born of fear, not reason. These were challenges Yan Hui would face regardless. Their relationship didn’t make things more complicated—so what was there to be afraid of?
“But—” Yan Hui began, only to be silenced by Qingqiu’s finger pressing gently against her lips.

“No ‘but.’” She said softly. “There’s only one answer I’ll accept. Will you give it to me?”

Yan Hui didn’t answer. They stayed locked in each other’s gaze, so close they could feel every breath. Then, just like in her dream, it was unclear who moved first—or maybe it didn’t matter. Maybe they both knew.
They leaned in, and their lips met.

After a moment, Yan Hui reached up, placed a hand over Qingqiu’s eyes, and whispered:

“At a time like this—you’re supposed to close your eyes.”