“I’d do anything for you.”
Even after the call ended and Cen Mingchan was back in her dormitory, that sentence kept spilling through her mind.
The whole walk back, her heart had thumped like a frightened rabbit.
Come on—if that wasn’t proof that Sister liked her back, then what on earth was?
The more she thought about it, the more certain she became: Sister definitely had feelings for her too.
At the thought, she felt as though she’d drunk honey water. Cradling her phone, she opened the speech Sister had sent her and read it through again.
The school dormitory housed six girls, each with a bed on top and a desk below. She dug out the notebook she kept specifically for drafting speeches, switched on her desk lamp, and began copying it out word by word.
“…According to Zhao Dehan’s confession, the first time Ding Yizhen bribed him was over drinks—when Zhao was drunk, Ding slipped a bank card with five hundred thousand yuan on it into his pocket. Is it hard to pick up greed? Of course it is. Zhao Dehan didn’t dare take it; he agonized over it for a whole month before finally withdrawing the money. And is it hard to set greed down? Of course it’s even harder. So hard that the money he embezzled and took in bribes filled an entire refrigerator, an entire bed, even an entire wall. So hard that in just four short years, his illicit gains climbed from that first five hundred thousand to two hundred thirty-nine million, nine hundred ninety thousand, five hundred yuan…”
That precise figure was something Sister had added in the new draft. After copying that passage, Cen Mingchan read it aloud softly.
The words about the money filling the fridge, the bed, the wall—they painted a picture, and the contrast between the amounts would hit even harder.
Cen Mingchan loved the new draft. She loved the person who had revised it for her even more.
She thought it must be heaven smiling down on her, to have let her meet Sister.
She couldn’t resist sending her a message.
Sister, I’m going to praise you for the ten-thousandth time—you write so well!
Wahhhh I’m just Sister’s little puppy, Sister is so amazing
Sister, once I’m done with the debate competition, want to go on a sweet duo queue with me?
Before long, Sister replied.
Sure. We’ll duo queue then.
The mention of games reminded Cen Mingchan that she hadn’t logged into her game accounts in days.
She had three accounts: a main, an alt, and a mini.
Her main sat in the top twenty of the Ladder Leaderboard—though by now it had probably fallen off.
The alt was the account she’d made after the game’s anti-addiction system cracked down on her.
And the lowest-ranked one, the mini, was the account where she’d met Sister.
Over this time, she’d added Sister as a friend on all three.
She logged into the mini first. Her mailbox was piled with little red dots waiting to be dealt with. When she opened the in-game mail, she found a gift under the friend-gifting tab.
It was the most expensive skin for her signature hero—beautifully modeled, with a gorgeous classical Chinese aesthetic. Her absolute favorite skin.
It wasn’t actually that pricey, around two hundred yuan, but since this was her mini account, which she played less often, Cen Mingchan had never been willing to spend the money on it.
She hadn’t expected Sister to gift it to her.
She claimed the skin, equipped it, took a lovely screenshot, and immediately scurried off to pester Sister in their private chat.
AHHHHHHHHH Sister! How did you know I love this skin?!
This is my favorite skin!!! Thank you, Sister!!!
You must be a tapeworm in my belly in disguise!!!
Actually “tapeworm” doesn’t sound very cute. Sister must just be telepathically connected to me!
I don’t care, I don’t care—Sister is my destined wife!
Then she sent the screenshot over.
I’m already wearing the skin Sister gave me. From now on I’m going to get ten kills a game!
In their chat log, it was still her spamming in excitement while Sister remained perfectly composed.
I’m glad you like it.
I kept wondering when you’d notice the surprise. You took a day longer than I expected.
Reading that, Cen Mingchan’s heart melted into a soft little puddle. Sister had secretly prepared a surprise for her.
She immediately sent a crying-kitten sticker.
I’ve been super busy lately, haven’t even had time to game with Sister, sob sob
I’m gonna carry Sister to twenty straight wins and into Apex Tier
Apex Tier was the highest rank in the mobile game Prosperous Era. For Cen Mingchan, it was a piece of cake. But Sister’s next message made her freeze.
Why don’t you log into your other accounts?
Cen Mingchan thought, no way—she couldn’t have gifted skins on all three accounts, could she?
Wait for me, Sister! I’m logging in right now!
When she opened her main account, she couldn’t help blurting out, “Holy shit.”
Eight full screens of skin-gifting records—fifty-six skins in total.
It covered practically every skin for the heroes she played most.
Cen Mingchan opened and claimed them one after another until she’d gone numb to it. She didn’t even have time to try on the new skins—all she wanted was to roll around on her bed. If she could, she’d have hugged Sister and kissed her over and over.
!!!!
How can I ever repay Sister’s great kindness!
I’m willing to be Sister’s beast of burden!
This time, Sister replied with a voice message.
You being my beast of burden—how does that look like anything but me losing out?
After listening, Cen Mingchan remembered a meme she’d shared with Sister a while back as a joke—”I’ll be your beast of burden, you just need to let me graze”—and her face went instantly red.
[T/N: A Chinese double-entendre pun; ‘graze/grass’ (草, cǎo) is a vulgar homophone for ‘fuck’ (操, cào)]
Biting her lip, she sent an innocent-puppy sticker.
Sister, I’m gonna carry you to Apex Tier!
No—I’m gonna go take first place on the Ladder.
Then a question suddenly occurred to her.
Sister, when’s your birthday?
About ten minutes later, Sister’s reply finally came.
June twelfth.
June twelfth?
Cen Mingchan was both startled and delighted—her own birthday was June twelfth too.
Sister, you might not believe this, but our birthdays are on the same day!!!
This fated coincidence!!!
Wahhhh I share a birthday with Sister, I’m so happy
Before Cen Mingchan could share this fateful coincidence with Shen Huan—she and the person she liked had the same birthday!—she saw Sister’s reply.
We really are fated.
Cen Mingchan propped her chin on her hand. Under the desk lamp, she stared at those three words—really are fated—reading them over and over.
Those three words were wonderful. Fate was the beginning of everything. If Sister felt they were fated too, then weren’t their chances of ending up together even greater?
Just as she was secretly rejoicing, Shen Huan patted her gently on the shoulder. “Mingchan, we’re going out to sing tomorrow night.”
“Will we be back tomorrow night?” Cen Mingchan turned to ask.
Their dorm occasionally did group outings. Once they’d gone out for an all-night karaoke session. “All-night,” though—really they’d all crashed by three in the morning, sprawled every which way across the private room. When morning came, everyone was groggy and useless the entire day.
Given how unpleasant the all-night karaoke experience had been, she felt the need to ask.
“Dunno.” Shen Huan spread her hands, then leaned in and whispered, “Someone’s treating us. He’s pursuing Xinxin, and Xinxin wants us along to size him up.”
Cen Mingchan understood instantly. So they were going to be third wheels—well, free food and free fun, no reason to refuse.
The next evening, when the whole group arrived at the KTV private room, they discovered that besides Xinxin’s suitor, there were also five of his roommates.
It looked like someone had deliberately arranged a mixer between the two dorms.
In the spacious private room, sofas lined either side, with a standing microphone in the very center.
Seeing that there were other guys present without any prior warning, Cen Mingchan was already a little displeased. But she’d come for the free outing, and all her roommates were here—she couldn’t very well pull a long face and walk out. So she curled up on the sofa and didn’t even pick a song.
If anyone asked, she couldn’t sing. Tone-deaf.
She was just about to message Sister when the door suddenly opened. A server pushed in a cart and set out a dozen or so bottles of beer on the table.
Shen Huan asked in a low voice, “Mingchan, you drinking?”
Cen Mingchan shook her head. “Never have. I’m gonna play games.”
With that, she ducked into her private chat to find Sister.
Sister Sister, wanna duo queue? I wanna game with Sister!
Sister’s reply came quickly.
Logging on.
After a moment’s thought, Cen Mingchan logged into her mini. Because of the rank restrictions, neither her main nor her alt could duo queue with Sister at the moment.
The glittering disco ball scattered rainbow light across the room; the speakers pumped out backing tracks.
She saw Sister’s mic light up—but she couldn’t hear a word the other woman was saying. It left her restless and agitated.
She hurried to type: Sister, I’m out right now, can’t talk, can’t hear you either, sob sob.
Where are you?
Cen Mingchan stared at that message, then glanced at the guys sitting far across the room. Inspiration struck.
She typed furiously.
At karaoke. Someone’s pursuing my roommate, so he invited our whole dorm to be third wheels.
I thought it’d just be him, but his whole dorm came too. So annoying!
I really wanna go back, wanna go back to the dorm and voice chat and game with Sister.
I wanna hear Sister’s voice, whatever you say is fine.
Sister didn’t seem to be buying it today.
Then go back.
Of course she’d go back—but not now. She’d only just sat down; she wasn’t about to be the one who ruined her roommates’ fun.
She kept up the coaxing.
Sister, I miss you. I wanna hear you talk right now. If I don’t hear Sister’s voice soon, I’m gonna cry.
Because she’d been typing, she still hadn’t matched with teammates. The next second, Sister called her.
Cen Mingchan stood up, signaled to Xinxin that she was stepping out to take a call, and hurried toward the door as she picked up.
Sister’s voice sounded a little cold, not as gentle as before. “Have you been drinking?”
Cen Mingchan’s heart cried injustice. She whined, “Sister, I haven’t drunk anything, I’ve been super good.”
Sister gave a soft “mm,” seemingly satisfied with her answer, then said, “Mingchan has to be good.”
It was as if a current raced up her spine and flooded her whole body. She hadn’t touched a drop, yet her mind went completely blank. “Sister, what did you just call me?”
“Mingchan.” Sister said it again. “I heard your roommate call you that earlier.”
Cen Mingchan couldn’t explain why, but hearing her own name from the other woman’s lips left her heart aching and sour, swelling so full she could barely hold back tears.
Her voice caught. “Sister, can you say it one more time?”
Sister’s tone softened, slowed—like snowflakes settling on her eyes in winter, dampening Cen Mingchan’s lashes. “Mingchan.”
“Sister.” Cen Mingchan blinked her moist eyes. “I really, really like you.”
