Chapter 76 Part 1

By the end of April, Yue Bai had embarked on her grueling library marathon. She clutched an English dictionary, doggedly committing words to memory. She couldn’t fathom why abominations like CET-4 and CET-6 even existed.

Gritting her teeth, Yue Bai hugged her English study materials to her chest, tempted to bash her head against the nearest wall. She hated every second of it.

When her Gaokao scores had finally come in, that gleaming 97 in English had nearly brought tears of joy to her eyes.

It was the highest English mark of her entire high school career—a parting gift from the Gaokao itself.

She had scraped by on CET-4 with the narrowest of margins, and now CET-6 was pounding her skull into mush.

“Senior Sister, I can’t memorize these English words anymore.” Yue Bai face-planted silently onto the desk in the library study room and messaged Sang Wan.

“Hm? You’re memorizing words?” Sang Wan replied.

“Yeah, I signed up for CET-6. Exam’s in June,” Yue Bai explained.

She flipped through her calendar in annoyance, her features twisting into a grimace.

“You got this!” Sang Wan encouraged.

Yue Bai fired off a cheering emoji, shut off her phone, cleared her mind, and dove back into the words.

“Abandon.” She spelled out the first one in her notebook. The black ballpoint pen lingered too long on the paper, blooming a dark ink blot.

Ten minutes later, Yue Bai flung down her pen and ruffled her hair in frustration. “This is so annoying.”

She grumbled to herself.

A shadow fell across her desk. Yue Bai looked up to see the girl she had once competed with.

“Qian Fan?” Yue Bai said, recognizing her.

“First time I’ve seen you in the library.” Qian Fan set her book down and took the seat across from her.

“CET-6’s coming up, so I’m here cramming last-minute.” Yue Bai flashed her word notebook.

Qian Fan nodded thoughtfully. “I’m prepping for CET-6 too. If you don’t mind, we could do daily check-ins for studying and words. Someone holding you accountable should speed things up.”

Yue Bai’s face lit up. “Really?”

The words had barely left her mouth when she slapped a hand over it, eyes wide as she scanned the room in panic. No one was looking her way, so she lowered her hand with a sigh of relief.

The library had a strict no-noise policy.

“Without someone watching, I can’t focus either,” Qian Fan said kindly.

“That sounds perfect! QQ check-ins every day?” Yue Bai asked.

“Sure.” Qian Fan nodded.

After grinding through words for half the day, Yue Bai glanced at the time. It was about right. She packed up her books leisurely and headed back to the Teachers’ Apartment.

Sang Wan wasn’t home yet.

“Senior Sister, I’m back,” Yue Bai messaged.

She grabbed pajamas from the bedroom and slipped into the bathroom for a shower.

By the time Yue Bai emerged, Sang Wan was perched on the living room sofa. Her long legs were crossed elegantly, but her brows were furrowed, her expression sour as she stared at her phone.

Yue Bai reached for the hairdryer but paused at the sight. Assuming something had gone wrong for Sang Wan, she padded over, damp hair dripping.

Her slightly wet hand brushed the nape of Sang Wan’s neck.

A droplet trailed down.

Sang Wan lifted her phone. “Little Bai, who’s this?”

Her voice sounded normal. Yue Bai didn’t pick up on anything amiss. She peered over and saw a message from Qian Fan.

“Completed today’s study tasks.”

“Oh, that’s the girl I’m doing English check-ins with,” Yue Bai said casually. She walked to the outlet and plugged in the hairdryer. “Ran into her at the library today, so we agreed to study English together going forward.”

Sang Wan’s eyes darkened subtly. She turned Yue Bai’s words over in her mind. “Study together?”

The hairdryer whirred to life, its roar swallowing Sang Wan’s quiet words. Yue Bai didn’t catch them.

Sang Wan bowed her head. The phone screen showed Yue Bai’s linked QQ account. The moment she had stepped into the Teachers’ Apartment, she had pulled out her phone and spotted the message.

Respecting Yue Bai’s privacy, she hadn’t logged into Yue Bai’s QQ to investigate. She simply stared at the red notification dot, the full message on display.

Five minutes passed. The hairdryer clicked off, and Yue Bai combed through her nearly dry hair before stowing it away.

Sang Wan showed no sign of heading for a shower, so Yue Bai sidled closer. “Senior Sister, aren’t you going to bathe?”

Sang Wan sidestepped the question. “Why check in and study with her?”

Yue Bai shrugged, as if it were obvious. “I signed up for CET-6—exam’s in a month. I need to cram, but I can’t stick to it alone. Check-ins with her give me some motivation.”

“Is that so?” Sang Wan’s face remained impassive. She stood and headed to the bathroom.

Yue Bai watched her retreating back in bewilderment. Why did Senior Sister seem a little off?

She shook her head, chalking it up to word-memorization overload scrambling her brain.

After slathering on lotion, Yue Bai climbed into bed and pulled up her saved question bank. With Sang Wan still out of the room, she studied diligently.

A dozen minutes later, the bedroom door creaked open. Yue Bai glanced up to see a freshly showered Sang Wan. She gave Yue Bai a fleeting look before sitting at the vanity for her skincare routine.

Yue Bai set her phone aside and watched Sang Wan intently.

After a beat, Sang Wan capped the last essence bottle. Her slender fingers deftly returned it to its box.

In two light strides, her long legs carried her to the bedside.

“Senior Sister, I’ve warmed up the bed for you,” Yue Bai said proudly, wrapping her arms around Sang Wan’s waist and nuzzling her cheek against her.

Sang Wan stiffened for a moment. Two seconds later, she gently disentangled herself. “Get some rest early. You’ve got a full schedule tomorrow.”

She turned onto her side, presenting Yue Bai with her back.

Even Yue Bai could sense the displeasure now. She scooted closer cautiously and whispered, “Senior Sister, are you upset today?”

“No,” Sang Wan replied evenly.

This time, Yue Bai detected the undercurrent of dissatisfaction. She poked Sang Wan’s arm. “Did something happen?”

“No. I’m tired. Good night.” Sang Wan delivered the seven words calmly, then shifted to nudge Yue Bai away.

Yue Bai pressed her lips together, switched off the light in silence, and tentatively draped an arm over Sang Wan.

Sang Wan didn’t pull away.

Emboldened, Yue Bai rested her forehead against Sang Wan’s back.

Sang Wan allowed it.

Gathering her courage, Yue Bai firmly rolled Sang Wan to face her. Up close, Sang Wan’s beautiful eyes were half-lidded.

“Senior Sister~” Yue Bai cooed sweetly.

Sang Wan remained unmoved. She lifted a hand to still the restless one. “I’m tired. Good night.”

Yue Bai pouted. “Senior Sister… good night.”

The next morning, Yue Bai awoke to an empty spot beside her. As usual, she figured Sang Wan was off on her early workout.

Lately, Yue Bai had lost her initial zeal for exercise, only squeezing in gym time between classes—nothing like Sang Wan’s rigorous routine.

Dressed and teeth brushed, she still hadn’t returned. Yue Bai picked up her phone in confusion. Half an hour remained until her first morning class.

Sang Wan was usually back with breakfast by now. What was different today?

Linking it to last night’s mood, Yue Bai suspected something was bothering Sang Wan.

But what could it be?

Hot steamed buns and soy milk waited on the table.

Senior Sister had come and gone again.

Yue Bai took a bite of a warm bun and let out a glum hum.

Had she gotten caught in the crossfire? Senior Sister wasn’t the type to lash out indiscriminately. Had Yue Bai done something to annoy her?

She hadn’t, though.

Yue Bai racked her brains, replaying events from the mood shift onward. The soy milk was gone, but she was no closer to an answer.

She scarfed down the rest of the buns and dashed to class, sliding into a back-corner seat just as the bell rang.

It was art theory today. Yue Bai’s focus drifted as she messaged Sang Wan.

“Senior Sister, what’re you up to?” Yue Bai sent.

A rote opener, but one she never imagined using herself.

In the Student Council Office, Sang Wan glanced indifferently at her glowing phone screen.

Bored nearby, Zhou Qingyan peeked over and nudged Sang Wan’s chair with her foot. “Hey, message for you. Gonna check it?”

Sang Wan shot her a sidelong glance. “No class?”

Zhou Qingyan yawned, switching hands to prop her chin. “Nope. Wen Mo’s got morning classes packed. I was bored at the Teachers’ Apartment, so I swung by. What about you? Little Bai’s in class too.”

“Mm.” Sang Wan hummed absently. She leafed through her documents, pausing on one page before looking up. “If Wen Mo started daily study check-ins with someone else, how would you feel?”

“Huh? What’re you getting at?” Zhou Qingyan asked, puzzled.

Sang Wan’s brows knit into a deep frown. “Nothing.”

Zhou Qingyan was quick on the uptake. After a moment’s thought, she got it. “Wait—don’t tell me Little Bai’s doing daily study check-ins with someone?”

Sang Wan wavered. “Not every day. It started yesterday. She agreed with some girl to study English daily and ping each other.”

Zhou Qingyan shook her head while scrutinizing Sang Wan. Her bright peach-blossom eyes pierced right through, brimming with mockery. “Who knew? Sang Wan, jealous over something like this?”

Sang Wan resumed flipping through the roster. She regretted asking Zhou Qingyan—the woman was anything but serious, offering no real advice on handling jealousy.

“Tsk, are you eating vinegar?” Zhou Qingyan adjusted her gold-rimmed glasses, laughter sparkling in her eyes. Her dark gaze lingered on Sang Wan, as if she’d uncovered a delightful secret.

Sang Wan sighed to herself. She picked up her phone, unlocked the screen, and replied to Yue Bai: “Sorting Student Council materials.”

“Jealous? You think I’d get jealous?” Sang Wan tilted her head with a smile, though it never reached her eyes.

“Heh, keep being tsundere.” Zhou Qingyan huffed playfully, then sprawled across the desk and closed her eyes to rest.

In the classroom, Yue Bai thumped her forehead hard. The sharp “bang-bang” sounds drew a glance from Xu Nuo in the row ahead.

Seizing the moment while the teacher fiddled with the presentation slides, Xu Nuo leaned back and whispered just loud enough for the two of them to hear: “What’s wrong with you? You’ve sighed how many times since class started?”

Yue Bai let out another sigh. “Sigh.”

“Yue Bai, is there something about today’s lecture you can’t accept?” The teacher’s voice carried across the room, unmissable. She glanced up curiously at the slides on the screen. “It’s not that bad, is it?”

Xu Nuo snapped upright at once, making it clear she had nothing to do with it.

No loyalty, Yue Bai thought darkly.

“Your lecture is wonderful, Teacher. I love it.” Yue Bai forced some energy into her voice.

The teachers at the Art College were mostly easygoing, and their classes always had a relaxed, enjoyable atmosphere.

“If you like it so much, pay proper attention and cut down on the sighing. At your age, why do you act like you’ve seen the whole world already?” The teacher teased her good-naturedly.

Yue Bai managed a smile in return. She flipped open her textbook and tucked her phone beneath the pages to hide it.

“Senior Sister, you busy?” Yue Bai texted.

“Not busy,” Sang Wan replied.

Yue Bai pouted at her screen. She had classes all day long—otherwise, she’d rush over right now and demand answers from Senior Sister in person.

At noon, when classes let out, Yue Bai hurried back to the Teachers’ Apartment. Sang Wan had already prepared lunch and was sitting calmly at the table, waiting for her.

Sang Wan’s expression was serene as a still pond. She ladled rice into a bowl and slid it across to Yue Bai.

After washing her hands in the kitchen, Yue Bai finally took her seat. She gripped her wooden chopsticks and gazed at the stunning beauty across from her, hesitating for a long moment before speaking. “Senior Sister, did I do something wrong?”

Sang Wan lifted her eyelids faintly. She picked up a pair of greens with her chopsticks and placed them in her own bowl, then poured herself a glass of soda with her free hand and took a small sip. “Hm?”

That lazy drawl made Yue Bai swallow hard. Half-rising from her seat, she reached out with her chopsticks to snag a piece of meat for Sang Wan’s bowl—but Sang Wan promptly covered her bowl with one hand.

Yue Bai stared at her in stunned surprise, frozen in place.