Derailed - Chapter 5

Gao Yan had recently moved into a new home—the kind with a large swimming pool.

Yu Huan assumed his invitation to swim was simply a tactful way of inviting her over for something else. But when she arrived, he really had changed into swimming trunks and was waiting by the pool.

Fortunately, she’d already booked a lesson for that evening, so her swimsuit was in the car boot.

She changed and got into the water. Gao Yan noticed the inflatable armbands in her hands.

“You can’t swim yet?”

“Mm.” She admitted it with some embarrassment. “I still haven’t got the breathing right.”

Her instructor had taught her the basic breaststroke movements: how to kick, how to move her arms, how to raise her head to breathe as she pulled through the water.

But something always went wrong when she put them together. Either her body sank the moment she lifted her head, or she couldn’t breathe smoothly and began choking after a couple of strokes.

She had to rely on the armbands. Gao Yan came over.

“Don’t use those. Let me have a look.”

Over the next half hour, he identified the problem and demonstrated how to correct it.

At the gym, she couldn’t remember her instructor ever getting into the water. Gao Yan stayed in the pool to coach her the whole time, supporting her at once whenever something went wrong.

She hadn’t expected this before coming.

Perhaps it was because Shen Yilin had made her work late today.

Just as once, when an urgent matter for Gao Yan’s company made her miss her favorite singer’s local concert, he’d bought her the best seats for the next stop on the tour in another city, along with return flights, to make up for it.

He’d always known how to win people over. That was probably one reason Leshang had grown so much in recent years.

Gao Yan took teaching her seriously.

Following his advice, Yu Huan kicked twice for each breath, and the sinking problem disappeared. She ventured two lengths, gradually managing a breath with every kick.

“This method suits me better than the one my instructor taught me,” she told him after swimming smoothly from one end to the other for the first time.

“You mean I’m a better teacher than your instructor?” Gao Yan poured a glass of champagne at the poolside and handed it to her. “Want to buy some lessons?”

He was always like this, wearing a perfectly serious expression even when joking.

But his bare waist, the hips snugly outlined by his trunks, his low voice—all of it was immensely tempting.

That was probably enough swimming for tonight, Yu Huan thought.

Noticing her gaze, Gao Yan got back into the water. He took her glass and set it on the edge, brought her hand to his waist, and drew her toward him with a hand at the back of her neck, walking her toward the pool wall.

The following morning, the scent of coffee greeted Yu Huan the moment she opened her office door.

Someone had put a cup on her desk, along with a large box of cherries. They seemed to have been washed already; fresh droplets rolled over their plump skins.

People in the office didn’t usually offer favors for no reason. She took a sip of the coffee. It was definitely the same as yesterday’s.

Shen Yilin happened to knock and come in.

“Did you make this?” she asked.

“Yes. The fruit’s from me too,” he admitted readily. “Staying up late is bad for your skin. You should get some extra vitamin C.”

Well, he did know how to be thoughtful.

Yu Huan gave him some formatting and material-gathering work. Just as he was leaving, she called him back.

“Don’t order lunch today. I’ll show you around the neighborhood.”

There was never any shortage of places to eat around the business district.

But finding a clean restaurant that served good food at a reasonable price, with no queue during the lunch rush—that took expertise.

Yu Huan took Shen Yilin downstairs, pointing out all the suitable options on the way, then led him to one that wasn’t especially easy to find.

Once they were seated, he looked at the familiar dishes from home on the menu.

“Niettie said you’re from F City too, Ms. Yu?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Which high school did you go to?”

“F City No. 1.”

“Then you really are a senior schoolmate.” He smiled. “Which year?”

“Do you mean when I started or when I graduated?” She thought for a moment and gave him both years.

“Oh!” This time he looked surprised. “My uncle was in that year too. Were you classmates?”

“Classmates? I suppose you could call us that.” She looked up from the menu. “But we weren’t in the same class.”

“Oh… Did you know each other back then?”