Chapter 64: The Green Tea Scheming Stepsister

“Restrain yourself a bit.”

Jiang Li held the phone farther away from herself and fiercely pinched Yun Chu’s cheek, issuing a low warning. Her eyes locked onto Yun Chu, signaling for her not to go too far—no more random noises or getting too close.

The arm wrapped around Jiang Li’s waist slowly loosened, and 123, using Yun Chu’s body, pouted dismissively.

123 sat up from Jiang Li’s side, taking advantage of Yun Chu’s more intimidating form compared to her cat body. As she passed by Jiang Li, she sneakily kicked her foot.

When Jiang Li looked over, 123 brazenly made a face at her. Jiang Li kicked back, sending 123 tumbling awkwardly onto the sofa, where she bumped into the cookie crumbs she had just eaten.

123 opened her mouth as if to say something more, but Jiang Li swiftly grabbed the phone, stood up, and hurried out to the balcony, covering the speaker.

Lu Chaohuan bit her lower lip until it drew blood. Through the screen, she caught every bit of the intimate interplay between them. Her face darkened.

Whether it was the casual provocation from that woman as she walked by or Jiang Li’s active retaliation, it all screamed to Lu Chaohuan that their relationship was far from ordinary—they could act so freely with each other.

Of course, Lu Chaohuan also saw Jiang Li deliberately raising the phone and heading to the balcony to avoid the woman inside, just so she could talk to her.

But it was also because she was talking to her.

A heaviness settled in her heart. After watching their interaction and seeing Jiang Li specifically dodging her to call her, Lu Chaohuan felt like an outsider excluded from their inner circle of intimacy.

Jiang Li could fool around recklessly with that woman but went out of her way to keep her from hearing it.

The plum juice she had just drunk hadn’t tasted sour at the time, but now, reflecting on Jiang Li’s actions, Lu Chaohuan belatedly sensed the thick tartness hidden within the cool sweetness.

It soured her heart to the core.

“Chaohuan, why aren’t you saying anything?”

The concerned voice came through from the other end of the line. Lu Chaohuan pinched the bridge of her nose, but the sourness in her heart still felt like a clutching hand squeezing tight, making her uncomfortable.

Her heart ached. Lu Chaohuan didn’t want to think too hard, nor did she want to beat around the bush with probing questions. She simply went with her gut instinct, pushing everything to her subconscious.

“The female voice that just spoke—is that Sister’s girlfriend?”

The wind howled noisily on the line, fragmenting Jiang Li’s slightly hesitant response. “Yeah, her name’s Yun Chu. You’ll meet her sometime.”

I hope we never meet. Lu Chaohuan kept her face expressionless, her gaze falling on the empty desk as she voiced her next thought.

“Does Sister like her a lot?”

Jiang Li glanced back at the person munching on chips on the sofa and sighed helplessly into her palm. “Yeah, she’s a great person. You’ll see once you meet her.”

“Is Sister staying home with her right now?”

Jiang Li nodded. There was a long silence on Lu Chaohuan’s end before Jiang Li suddenly remembered they were on a voice call, not video—she couldn’t see the nod.

She hurried to reply. “Yeah, she’s just gotten better and came over to visit. We’re…”

Lu Chaohuan didn’t want to hear any more of their cozy plans. She cut in. “Then chat with her properly, Sister. My roommate’s back here.”

Jiang Li couldn’t find other words. She could only lamely hold up the phone and say goodbye, listening to the call-end tone from the other side.

Lu Chaohuan’s final coolness stirred an ominous premonition in Jiang Li’s heart.

Had the sisterly bond she’d mended during the day crumbled back into a cold phase already?

Facts proved Jiang Li’s intuitions were spot-on: good ones never panned out, but bad ones hit right away.

After hanging up that day’s call, Lu Chaohuan plunged into her even busier routine. She used to chat with Jiang Li occasionally, but now they barely exchanged a few words all day.

Jiang Li, too, threw herself into her impending class schedule, swamped and oblivious to the renewed chill between her and Lu Chaohuan whenever she caught a spare moment.

This led to their reunion after the recent fallout happening none other than during one of Jiang Li’s lectures.

It was Jiang Li’s first class of the semester. She arrived at the classroom early to prepare, greeting students as they trickled in one by one.

For her debut lecture, Jiang Li had dressed meticulously: her shirt and trousers were custom-tailored and perfectly ironed, hugging her curves flawlessly.

Clearly, Jiang Li’s refined teaching attire and her young, beautiful face drew the students’ attention, though she herself was absorbed in her preparations on the podium.

As Jiang Li reviewed her lesson notes, her fingertip lightly adjusted the gold-rimmed frames on her face. From below, a bold student called out, “Teacher Jiang, no need to adjust—let me do it for you!”

That broke the ice. The suppressed buzz in the room erupted in a chorus of echoes, turning the once-quiet classroom noisy in an instant.

Jiang Li set down her notes, about to say something, when another excited female voice chimed in. “Teacher Jiang, gender’s no issue! I can do it!”

Waves of enthusiastic confessions rang in her ears. Jiang Li adjusted her glasses again and gave a helpless smile, just opening her mouth when a cough from the doorway interrupted her.

[Ding, Identity Task 1 Issued.]

[Please have the tasker stroke the task target’s face in front of the classmates, touch forehead to forehead, and say in a doting whisper: Baby, not staying obediently by my side—who are you pitying with this look now?]

What a load of nonsense—the demands just keep escalating.

Jiang Li nearly stumbled in her heels. Hearing 123’s system prompt, she quickly glanced toward the door, meeting Lu Chaohuan’s gaze as she covered her mouth and nose while coughing.

Lu Chaohuan must have caught a cold. Coughs racked her throat incessantly. Her once-plump eye corners now bore faint redness, and a sheen wavered in her eyes.

She really did look pitiful.

Confirming Lu Chaohuan had recognized her, Jiang Li raised a hand to wave, but Lu Chaohuan tugged her companion—probably her roommate—toward the back row seats.

Hold on! That roommate Lu Chaohuan was dragging along!

Jiang Li carefully adjusted her glasses. Her eyes narrowed sharply on the pair walking almost glued together, a cold glint flashing as her lips lost their earlier smile.

If she remembered right, the person Lu Chaohuan was holding was the other one in those Moments photos.

And now they were this close… Could it be…

Feeling the scorching gaze from behind while her T-shirt was yanked tight, letting cold air slip in, Bai Qing recognized the teacher on the podium as the beautiful older sister who’d helped Lu Chaohuan move.

But looking at Lu Chaohuan’s aloof profile and the intense stare boring into her back, Bai Qing wanted to cry. Why drag an innocent kid like her into your lovers’ spat?

Jiang Li stood on the podium, watching Lu Chaohuan lead the way straight to the last row. Two seats there were already taken, so the outer spots went to Lu Chaohuan and Bai Qing.

Jiang Li’s gaze locked on them. As soon as Lu Chaohuan sat, she clutched her throat and coughed furiously, as if she’d hack up her guts. Bai Qing quickly unscrewed Lu Chaohuan’s thermos and handed it over.

Lu Chaohuan took it without hesitation and drank a few gulps. The warm water soothed her dry, itchy throat, and the coughing finally subsided.

“Thanks.” Lu Chaohuan rubbed her throbbing temples. Her head spun in a foggy mess; she felt stars whirling endlessly before her eyes amid the blackness.

“No problem.”

Bai Qing barely lifted her head to meet Jiang Li’s piercing stare at them, brows furrowed and fixed on Lu Chaohuan.

She patted Lu Chaohuan’s shoulder. Knowing Lu Chaohuan disliked sharing personal matters, Bai Qing leaned in and whispered, “Your sister up there has been staring at us since we walked in. You gonna say hi?”

Lu Chaohuan rubbed her temples, her mind a whirlwind. She knew of the gaze on her but didn’t want to meet it, even though she’d come specifically for her.

“It’s fine. No big deal if I don’t greet her.”

The chorus of “Teacher Jiang” cheers grew even more fervent around them. Seated in the back, Lu Chaohuan didn’t look up, but the voices carried clearly forward. The classroom buzzed with rare energy.

All because of Jiang Li.

That realization pressed harder on Lu Chaohuan’s temples, frustration piling like storm clouds with no outlet.

She’s got her own partner—why fuss so much over her grown sister…

The gaze drifted onto her intermittently, but Lu Chaohuan didn’t look up. Instead, she beckoned Bai Qing closer with a hand on the desk and whispered something, then resumed rubbing her head.

Bai Qing eyed her nervously. “You sure you really want me to say that?”

Lu Chaohuan nodded and waved her off.

Fine, fine—for all the help this woman had given her lately. Bai Qing gritted her teeth, braved Jiang Li’s icy stare, and stepped up to her.

Flashing her standard smile, Bai Qing relayed Lu Chaohuan’s message. “Teacher Jiang, Chaohuan says since we’re both taken, stop staring.”

“Taken?” Jiang Li’s eyes sharpened. Clearly not thinking it referred to her, her gaze chilled further on Bai Qing. So you’re the one who stole my little cabbage, huh?

Unaware of their sisterly ties and assuming Jiang Li was Lu Chaohuan’s partner all along, Bai Qing found the words oddly phrased now. Combined with Lu Chaohuan’s recent gloomy demeanor in the dorm, she quickly spun a tale of romantic drama: Teacher Jiang had a new beau, dumped Lu Chaohuan into heartbreak, yet still fixated on her old flame—jealous enough to seethe.

Jiang Li’s face held no smile, her complex expression appraising Bai Qing up and down, obviously pegging this innocent roommate as Lu Chaohuan’s new flame.

Glancing at Lu Chaohuan, who lay slumped on the desk seemingly unwell, Jiang Li recalled her flushed face upon entering and asked Bai Qing, “Has Chaohuan been sick lately?”

It wasn’t surprising for Jiang Li to check with Bai Qing; they hadn’t spoken in two or three days, leaving her clueless about the cold.

And Lu Chaohuan hadn’t mentioned it, despite looking so miserable.

Jiang Li’s heartache showed plainly in her eyes—this was no secret anyway. Bai Qing nodded and, considering it, informed Lu Chaohuan’s “partner.”

“She’s got a bad cold and dizziness. Nearly passed out in the dorm this morning, but she insisted on coming to class.”

Passed out? Jiang Li asked quickly, “She didn’t get hurt, right?”

Bai Qing shook her head. “I was right beside her and caught her.”

Good, no injuries. Jiang Li sighed in relief. Noting Bai Qing’s coloring softened a touch—whoever could stand protectively by Lu Chaohuan like that was decent to her, at least.

Right then, the class bell rang. Jiang Li set down her lesson notes. “Alright, head back to your seat then.”

Jiang Li had prepared her lecture thoroughly, as Lu Chaohuan knew. Upon seeing Jiang Li’s name on her schedule, she’d discreetly asked around about her prep routine.

Confirmed, even amid today’s dizzy spell, Lu Chaohuan had leaned on Bai Qing to make it.

She didn’t want to miss Jiang Li’s first class.

True enough, Jiang Li delivered masterfully. She’d even practiced her lecture phrasing, turning dry text into vivid stories with real examples.

But Lu Chaohuan’s head throbbed unbearably. She gripped her pen to take notes alongside Jiang Li, only to eventually bury her head on the desk in a haze, letting her rising fever consume her.

She had a fever…

Lu Chaohuan hadn’t had one in ages. She’d chalked the morning dizziness up to lack of rest, but her climbing body temperature bluntly announced the truth.

Jiang Li’s voice droned on in explanation. Lu Chaohuan closed her eyes, resting her head quietly on the desk. Her mind boomed chaotically in fog.

That booming haze carried her through the whole class. Lu Chaohuan never lifted her head, keeping it dully pressed to the desk. Her once-light head now felt leaden—trying to raise it would make her black out.

Until a cool hand touched her neck.

Lu Chaohuan snapped to faint awareness, fury flickering in her eyes. Who dared touch her without permission?

She braced weakly against the desk and painfully lifted her head. The person beside her was none other than the familiar face—cool hands, colder expression than she’d ever seen.

“Sister,” she murmured so faintly it might not reach.

Her fever-flushed eyes narrowed. Jiang Li’s expression grew icier.

In all the time Lu Chaohuan had known Jiang Li, her face had always held smiles or gentle warmth—never this detached chill, or rather, suppressed anger.

Jiang Li was mad.

Summer swelter aside, the classroom’s AC chilled her hands pleasantly, but the skin beneath burned fever-hot like volcanic rock.

That faint “Sister” tugged at something deep in Jiang Li. Seeing Lu Chaohuan—mere days apart—burning like this set her off.

She wanted to ask how Lu Chaohuan had let herself get this sick.

And that partner of hers.

Jiang Li’s cold glance sliced to Bai Qing on the inside seat, spotting the game on her phone. Her glare hardened.

Lu Chaohuan’s body scorching like this, and her partner didn’t care a whit—too busy gaming.

Fuming though she was, Jiang Li looked down at Lu Chaohuan’s fever-flushed face. Her slightly parted lips exhaled heat against Jiang Li’s abdomen under her shirt, and she grinned dopily at her.

Sighing, Jiang Li crouched beside Lu Chaohuan. The cool hand on her must have felt soothing; Lu Chaohuan grabbed it and rubbed it across her cheek.

Like an ice cube, she rolled her cheek over it, as if trying to let the chill course everywhere on her.

Jiang Li eyed her flushed complexion and gently pressed her forehead to Lu Chaohuan’s, closing her eyes to gauge the raging fever.

She paid no mind to the curious stares from the surrounding students.

Jiang Li hadn’t overthought it—Lu Chaohuan was her sister; nothing to hide. Lu Chaohuan, delirious, barely registered the onlookers.

Hot.

The forehead heat was alarmingly intense. Jiang Li pulled back and regarded Lu Chaohuan’s normally curled lashes now demurely downcast. Her inner anger swelled.

I tell her daily to take care of herself, she gets herself a forty-degree fever. Falls for someone, who doesn’t even care.

Not just for the task—facing Lu Chaohuan’s fever-bright eyes gazing pathetically at her—Jiang Li naturally said it.

“Baby, not staying obediently by my side—who are you pitying with this look now?”

Both of Jiang Li’s hands were clutched to Lu Chaohuan’s face, rubbing wildly to cool off. Her body heat climbed relentlessly, but she slowly melted the ice before her.

Dark clouds loomed, limbs leaden, head buzzing, body aflame ceaselessly. Amid fading consciousness, Lu Chaohuan only knew the person before her was Jiang Li.

She smelled Jiang Li’s scent—sweetly cloying, a flavor she’d never usually touch.

She felt so bitter, so wretched, yet heard this innocently sweet cake of a woman scolding her.

When she was already suffering this much.

Lu Chaohuan swallowed hard. She struggled to raise her gaze but couldn’t make out Jiang Li’s expression—blurred by tears, speckled with twinkling stars.

“You’re scolding me.” Tears trailed down her cheeks.

Lu Chaohuan cried quietly.

Tears slipped silently, crystalline beads spinning in her sockets before dropping lightly, leaving scalding marks between Jiang Li’s palms.

She had made Lu Chaohuan cry.

The soft cheek in her hand grew damp with those words, hot shimmering drops falling thicker, leaving Jiang Li at a loss.

Lu Chaohuan’s sudden tears doused Jiang Li’s anger entirely, replacing it with her own panic. Her fingertips dabbed repeatedly at the falling pearls on the cheek.

Wipe one, more appeared. Jiang Li’s hand soaked through, but Lu Chaohuan still clung to her shirt front, shedding silent tears.

Bai Qing quietly passed Jiang Li a pack of tissues.

Not sparing a glance at the giver, Jiang Li took it with a thanks and pulled out a sheet to wipe Lu Chaohuan’s face.

When she spoke again, gone was the earlier chill. Her voice softened like coaxing a child who couldn’t understand, soothing Lu Chaohuan gently.

“Alright, good girl—no more crying.”

“Sister was too harsh; Sister’s in the wrong. Scold me back, okay? Just stop crying.”

One hand cradled Lu Chaohuan’s face; the other wiped her cheeks. Her mouth ran nonstop with reassurances for Lu Chaohuan, leaving no spare attention for the onlookers.

Until a sideways camera flash blinded them.

Kneeling on one knee, Jiang Li pulled Lu Chaohuan close and shot a frigid glare back.

Bai Qing sidled up quietly. “Teacher Jiang, take Chaohuan to the campus clinic first. Everyone’s watching.”

Lu Chaohuan’s skin blazed under her hand, tears streaming freely down her face like a shameless little cat.

The room had fallen utterly silent, all eyes tracking Jiang Li and Lu Chaohuan’s every move. They’d become the class’s focal point.

Every gaze converged on the hand Jiang Li used to caress Lu Chaohuan.