Chapter 83

A heavy silence fell, broken only by Jiang Li’s soft chuckle.

Should she call Lu Chaohuan persistent, or say that her attachment to this matter surpassed even her own expectations?

Round and round it went, but Lu Chaohuan’s words all boiled down to one hope: that Jiang Li would publicly announce their relationship to Father Jiang.

Seeing Lu Chaohuan so stubbornly fixated on them—their bond—stirred another wave of softening in Jiang Li’s heart.

Ah… she really was beyond saving. The little voice in Jiang Li’s mind sighed helplessly, reflecting on how she always melted at Lu Chaohuan’s adorable displays.

Tonight, what Lu Chaohuan had been chasing all along was exactly this: for her to reveal their relationship to Father Jiang, wasn’t it?

Even after Jiang Li had handled her a bit roughly, she refused to yield, provoking her again and again on purpose—for precisely this reason.

“Really, you got me.”

Jiang Li’s voice gentled. Lu Chaohuan immediately sensed the shift in her attitude, and that warm, damp palm finally lifted her thigh once more, granting her some relief.

In the instant she blinked, her tangled thoughts plunged into deeper confusion at the words whispered by her ear.

Jiang Li drew her into a close embrace and called out to Father Jiang, who was still knocking at the door. “Dad, stop knocking. We’re fine in here.”

The clear, steady response poured cool water on Father Jiang’s anxious heart at last, easing his tension.

But catching the unnatural rasp in Jiang Li’s voice, he frowned. “Drink some warm water in a bit—your throat sounds hoarse.”

“By the way, is Chaohuan alright? Was that noise her accidentally bumping into the door?”

Lu Chaohuan’s ear tips flushed pink. She watched as the previously composed Jiang Li blushed in that familiar way again, and she leaned in closer with her cheek, eager to uncover the truth.

Don’t lean in so close.

With what she was about to say in mind—and that curious face right there—Jiang Li felt a flicker of shy irritation.

Clearing her throat, Jiang Li delivered her next words without flinching, stunning Father Jiang. “I confessed to her. That’s what scared her.”

The declaration left everyone—inside the door and out—staring wide-eyed.

Lu Chaohuan never imagined Jiang Li would be so direct and straightforward, especially in their current messy state, straight-up telling Father Jiang about the confession. Jiang Li confessed—to her!

Silence gripped the room, until a lively Christmas tune floated through, merry and uplifting, as if summoning the stars from the sky to chase away the night’s lingering gloom.

The shadows in her eyes cleared in an instant. Lu Chaohuan looked at Jiang Li, ears red as she spoke those words, and the bad mood that had plagued her all night finally lifted.

For an evening full of clashes with Jiang Li, this was exactly what Lu Chaohuan craved. What she hadn’t foreseen, though, was how the moment—and the way—Jiang Li said it would be…

Would be like this. So utterly likeable.

A genuine curve of delight arched at the corners of her eyes, the brightest smile of the night blooming on her cheeks.

Lu Chaohuan slung her arms around Jiang Li’s neck and nuzzled against her soft cheek in a practiced coquettish rub, murmuring “Sister” again and again.

Having secured what she wanted, she melted back into the soft, familiar version Jiang Li knew so well. No one could say where that sharp-edged, needling troublemaker from moments ago had disappeared to.

“You…” Jiang Li’s fingertips wove through the silky strands draped across Lu Chaohuan’s pale back, gliding through her palm like flowing water. The anger filling her chest seemed to slip away with those strands, vanishing at her touch.

The fire had come and gone without a trace. Perhaps the only evidence of their earlier quarrel was the bite mark Lu Chaohuan had left on her neck.

For a moment, stillness reigned both inside and outside the door, save for Lu Chaohuan’s clingy, murmuring whispers as she hugged Jiang Li close. Even the air grew thick and sticky.

Smooth skin, caressing strokes down the back, the warmth of a familiar embrace.

The two inside basked in the long-awaited tenderness from their lover this night.

Father Jiang, on the other hand, was deprived of any such serenity.

His footing gave way, and he slapped a palm against the heavy door for support. Shock painted his refined features.

He strained to interpret the implications of Jiang Li’s words from every angle.

Chaohuan had bumped into the door because Li Li confessed to her and scared her senseless… So, was it because he’d brought Lu Chaohuan to that blind date tonight, spurring her on?

Otherwise, why speak up neither sooner nor later, but precisely today with this explosive development?

Hold on—Father Jiang’s eyes flew wide as understanding hit him. He shot a reproachful glare at the door—specifically at Jiang Li.

He’d asked her to look after her little sister, and she’d gone and made her into a romantic partner instead?! On top of that, wasn’t Jiang Li Lu Chaohuan’s teacher?

No, no—Father Jiang shook his head and covered his face, struck by something utterly embarrassing: the age difference between his daughter Jiang Li and Lu Chaohuan. It was the kind of gap folks would call “an old cow munching tender grass”—and not just any grass, but the kind right under her nose.

“Chaohuan—she—did she agree?” His voice quavered as he asked. By then, he’d already envisioned their future: him dragging Jiang Li over to apologize to Chu Fei.

He had faith in his daughter’s appeal, after all. Right now, though, she’d tricked an innocent girl still in school into a sham marriage.

The imagined scene left Father Jiang’s vision darkening.

A long pause stretched inside before a resolute voice emerged.

“Chaohuan agreed. I really like her, so I took the initiative to confess. I hope you can accept us.”

She’d agreed.

Father Jiang clutched at his chest. His mind raced ahead, wondering if he should send congratulatory gifts to Chu Fei and that new department hire they’d just matched up.

He’d smooth things over for Jiang Li in advance.

His daughter had finally pulled through her last heartbreak. Even if this romance was a case of old-cow-nest-grass, Father Jiang was determined to champion her happiness.

“Get ready on Chu Fei’s end.”

With those parting words, he shuffled back to his room. Hosting guests all day followed by this mental whirlwind had left him utterly drained.

He’d called Jiang Li home to sort out the Chu Fei situation, only for her to lob this “big surprise” right back at him.

His retreating footsteps carried through the door, along with the unspoken message: he accepted their relationship, but he’d need to speak with Chu Fei.

Since Lu Chaohuan was her daughter, after all.

It seemed far easier than she’d thought?

Jiang Li blinked in surprise. She hadn’t expected Father Jiang to accept her and Lu Chaohuan’s relationship so readily. None of the yelling she’d braced for had materialized.

They were sisters, after all—or at least presented that way. Yet he wasn’t even startled?

“Sister’s worries were kind of pointless, huh.”

Lu Chaohuan took Father Jiang’s easy acceptance far more in stride, showing no surprise at all.

Her fingertip idly traced the bite mark on Jiang Li’s neck. Glancing at the puzzled look on Jiang Li’s face, she remembered her earlier inexplicable stubbornness and tossed out a casual jab.

“Pointless?”

Jiang Li turned her attention to Lu Chaohuan, who was playfully toying with her own hair. A half-smile tugged at her lips. Her fears about Father Jiang’s approval might have been overblown, but there was another issue that fueled her anger—and it was anything but pointless.

Namely, Lu Chaohuan’s idea of using self-harm or self-abuse to coerce a change of heart and grab attention. Jiang Li intended to use tonight to sound a firm warning.

Without a word, she scooped Lu Chaohuan up and turned around.

“Wait—Sister?”

Not leaning against the door was preferable, sure—but after setting her down on the bed, twisting her shoulders to flip her face-down and pin her to the mattress? That caught Lu Chaohuan completely off guard.

She could no longer see Jiang Li’s face.

This was Jiang Li’s punishment.

To Lu Chaohuan’s calls of “Sister,” Jiang Li answered with her lips, a soft hum rumbling in her throat.

Kisses rained down on her snow-white back, one after another. The elegant, wing-like ridges of her shoulder blades quivered with each one. Light as they were, Lu Chaohuan’s reactions proved unexpectedly fierce.

Her hands clutched the fluffy bedding tight, dragging out audible scrapes as she arched her head upward. Her flushed cheeks glowed like someone who’d sipped sweet rice wine, impossible not to want to taste.

Her movements pulled her petite waist even tauter, skin stretched smooth and gleaming, carving an exquisite curve.

This was their first time in this position.

Jiang Li decided she rather liked the angle.

No more staring straight into those eyes brimming with desire and feigned pitifulness—no needless softening. She could observe every single one of Lu Chaohuan’s movements from above.

Watching her squirm uncomfortably under her touches, trembling whimpers spilling from her lips, utterly at her mercy, soft and alluring beyond imagination.

And those hands straining backward to hook her? Jiang Li’s smile unfurled slowly. Her suspicions were spot on.

This pose should make it easy to extract a promise. She deliberately ignored Lu Chaohuan’s wrist, trembling in the air with each thrust, as she considered it.

She hated this position!

Her fingertips scrabbled futilely for Sister; fresh sweat beaded on her forehead, splattering the sheets amid muffled grunts. Mist shrouded her eyes, impossible to dispel, brimming as if tears would spill at any second.

It was torment. Pure agony.

Her mind fogged over, thoughts sluggish and scattered. Her body burned scorching hot, every inch hypersensitive, fingertips trailing fire and itch like a thousand ants marching across her skin.

They roamed without cease, yet Lu Chaohuan kicked her little legs against the sheets over and over, brows twisted in evident discomfort.

This wasn’t enough—not just this. She craved more.

She wanted Sister’s gaze on her, wanted to be pulled into her arms, wanted Sister to…

Kisses kept landing in succession, familiar hums reverberating through the room, tingles ignited all across her body.

Not enough. Not nearly.

A tear trailed from the corner of her eye, mingling with sweat and ragged breaths to soak the bed. Her damp lashes fluttered, giving voice to pitiful little sobs.

Her knuckles, gripping the bedding, loosened weakly. Lu Chaohuan swallowed hard and rasped “Sister,” no more, just calling for her again and again.

Her breathing deepened once more. Lu Chaohuan craned her neck high, baring a graceful spine, her slender white wrist glowing brighter than the crescent moon outside—like fractured moonlight made manifest.

“Next time, will you do it again, Chaohuan?” Jiang Li leaned down, nipping at her ear. “Hurt yourself. Hurt Sister.”

“Sister…”

Her cheeks aflame, thoughts adrift in haze, Lu Chaohuan followed raw instinct, blurting her true feelings without thought.

“If Sister locks me up forever, stays by my side always… maybe… mmh… maybe I won’t.”

It was a simple bargain.

For Jiang Li, who had already resolved to see Lu Chaohuan through this lifetime.

As fireworks rocketed into the night sky outside, Jiang Li’s voice turned tender with a solemn vow.

“As you wish.”

Christmas night’s festivities drew to a close. The reindeer faded from mortal view, bequeathing this enchanting evening to the pair of lovers entwined in sleep.

Their favorite Christmas gift lay right before them.

When it came to Chu Fei, Jiang Li and Father Jiang approached her door with pounding hearts—right up until a lively young woman cheerily ushered them inside to sit.

Watching Chu Fei’s intimate gestures toward her left Jiang Li dumbfounded. Father Jiang, though, showed no surprise at all.

On this visit, Jiang Li realized her initial fixation had made her look the fool.

Chu Fei and Father Jiang shared no romantic tie whatsoever.

They were merely childhood friends. Chu Fei had needed to stage a scene for her family’s power struggle and roped him in; they’d improvised the act to win that round.

As for why they’d let Jiang Li and the others in on it: Jiang Li’s grandmother and Chu Fei’s were thick as thieves. To dodge questions from the elders via the younger generation, they’d simply deceived them all.

It had been a ruse from start to finish.

For Jiang Li, all her tangled worries about Lu Chaohuan bubbled away like foam.

No matter what, one less barrier stood between her and Lu Chaohuan now. Jiang Li could finally set her mind at ease.

Their story was only just beginning.

With such a clingy sweetheart at home, they appeared everywhere as inseparable pairs after getting together—always side by side, sharing knowing smiles.

In the early days, Jiang Li fretted endlessly that Lu Chaohuan might secretly harm herself even in private, even suffering nightmares over it now and then.

But as time wore on, Jiang Li came to see—

Lu Chaohuan had spoken true: so long as Jiang Li remained by her side, she would never show that shattered side from her broken memories.

Lovers, after all, stayed by one another’s side.

In this lifetime, they lived in peaceful harmony until their final slumber.

“Uh, you remember now…?”

The task complete, Jiang Li returned to the space and stood frozen in place, silent for ages. Unable to bear the prolonged quiet any longer, 123 finally spoke up.

Jiang Li tilted her head on instinct and gave a slight shake in denial. Yet her face bore traces of hesitation—and a touch of longing.

Her memories seemed to have shifted with Lu Chenhuan’s emergence, conjuring brand-new scenes she’d never witnessed before.

Jiang Li murmured, “I raised her.”

Was that right?

The fragments weren’t sharp; she could only glimpse a few images.

In them, she held the same girl in intimate embraces, shared fervent kisses, spent countless days and nights together in a grand castle.

The girl had started so small, a tiny thing. She grew to Jiang Li’s chest, then her eye level, and finally stood shoulder-to-shoulder with her—or even taller.

Jiang Li had raised her by hand, lived in constant closeness, bound in unbreakable intimacy.

The girl’s gaze toward her ran deep with passion. Every time, every single time Jiang Li turned, there she was.

Always in Jiang Li’s sight.

But the final image froze on Jiang Li’s retreating back.

Why did she leave?

“123, start the next task.”

No answers lingered in those memories. She would press on, encounter more versions of “her,” and reclaim the recollections she’d once lost.

Jiang Li took the initiative to enter the next task. 123 clenched its teeth, worry gnawing, but sent her off anyway.

Hoping she wouldn’t remember.

In the next world, “she” bore habits identical to Lu Chenhuan’s.

Loves being Jiang Li’s possession. Every. Single. Fetish.