Chapter 60: For Example, Teasing Me on Purpose

The hot search quietly vanished.

No one knew whose doing it was, but Lu Zhixia assumed it was Shen Wanqing. Before bed, when she saw the woman emerge from the bathroom, she asked, “Was it the Shen Family?”

“No,” Shen Wanqing replied, and Lu Zhixia believed her.

As night deepened, Lu Zhixia refused to sleep in the second bedroom and opted for the living room instead. Her mom had told her not to, but she had her own reasons—it was closer to the bathroom.

As she said this, she winked at Shen Wanqing standing in the doorway of the master bedroom, flirting shamelessly.

Yan Fanghua paid her no mind and headed back to her own room to sleep.

Lu Zhixia watched her mom go, then turned around to find Shen Wanqing already gone from the doorway.

With a dissatisfied hum, she thought for a moment before hopping off the sofa.

Shen Wanqing’s door wasn’t locked. Lu Zhixia knocked three times with no response, then slowly pushed it open.

Shen Wanqing was sitting on the edge of the bed. She looked up to see Lu Zhixia backing into the room.

“Sister, I have something to tell you,” Lu Zhixia said solemnly. “Can I turn around?”

“No.” Of course, Shen Wanqing was just teasing her. Lu Zhixia turned her back and covered her eyes. “This okay now?”

“What’s the matter?”

Blindly navigating like someone without sight, Lu Zhixia kicked her way to the bed’s edge. Eyes still squeezed shut, she reached out until her fingers brushed Shen Wanqing. She grabbed her hand and trailed upward until she felt the fabric of her robe.

Opening her eyes, Lu Zhixia huffed. “You’re wrapped up so tight.”

“Got a problem with that?” Shen Wanqing draped her book across her lap. “I’d suggest you say whatever it is quickly. Professor Yan might come out any minute.”

“Oh,” Lu Zhixia said. Then, earnestly: “Sister, close your eyes. I’m too embarrassed to say it if you’re looking at me.”

“You get embarrassed?” Shen Wanqing said, but she closed her eyes anyway.

“The thing is, I want to give you a…” Lu Zhixia blurted it out in a rush—”goodnight kiss!”—and darted forward with her lips pursed. But Shen Wanqing was faster. She dodged aside and clamped a hand around Lu Zhixia’s neck.

“Until you understand me better, you’re not allowed to initiate any intimate actions,” Shen Wanqing said, giving her neck a little pinch before shoving her away.

Lu Zhixia rubbed her throat, gasping for air, her expression full of grievance. “Not even a little bit?”

“You’re not allowed to. I am.”

“Wow, what kind of tyrannical clause is that?” Lu Zhixia protested. “No way, no way!”

“No?” Shen Wanqing refused coolly. “Then stop chasing me.”

In the end, for the sake of love, Lu Zhixia had no choice but to yield. But she negotiated with Shen Wanqing: if she really couldn’t hold back someday, she’d apply for permission from her sister. Pitifully, she added, “Don’t be too heartless then. Just toss me a few scraps, that’s all I need.”

“We’ll see how you perform,” Shen Wanqing replied breezily.

Lu Zhixia conceded. “Fine, but you can’t torment me.”

“Like what?”

“Like deliberately teasing me but then not giving me anything. You can’t do that.”

“Depends on my mood.”

“You—!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Shen Wanqing asked, her face impassive.

“You’re something else!” Lu Zhixia ground out through clenched teeth. She shot to her feet with a huff. “Just you wait until we’re together!”

Lu Zhixia tossed and turned on the sofa for ages, unable to sleep. In the end, she simply got up and threw herself into some overtime work.

When exhaustion from work set in, she scrolled through Weibo—mainly Shen Wanqing’s account, saving every single one of her photos along the way.

After Shen Wanqing’s photos went public, they rocketed straight to the hot search: #ExtremeQueen#.

Her looks certainly lived up to the name. Still, plenty of skeptics chimed in: Who could prove these were really her?

There were always those sour grapes who couldn’t believe someone could have it all—beauty, figure, wealth, power, the works.

Some even came up with hilarious reasons to doubt: All the other tycoons have crowds of friends, but she’s always alone. Convenient for fooling the masses, huh? Who sent these photos anyway? Must’ve been a ton of Photoshop work. It looks great, but don’t bother next time.

Lu Zhixia scrolled through it all and realized these types had been hopping mad in the comments since Shen Wanqing’s very first post.

Shen Wanqing never responded, though. She only ever posted pictures, never any captions.

Lu Zhixia had only just noticed Shen Wanqing’s follower count today: one follow.

She got instantly excited, barely containing her thrill. It had to be that Shen Wanqing had followed her just last night.

She hurriedly hit follow on Shen Wanqing’s account, then clicked into her followed accounts. Cold reality hit her like a splash of ice water.

Shen Wanqing’s sole follow was the auto-generated one from the system: Weibo Newbie Guide.

Unwilling to accept it, Lu Zhixia opened WeChat and messaged her: Sister, follow me on Weibo?

The reply came quickly: Have you followed me?

Lu Zhixia: Of course I have! I like you so much, how could I not? If you didn’t even notice, I’d be heartbroken. [sob sob]

Shen Wanqing saw right through her without mercy: You just followed me. Who are you crying to?

Lu Zhixia sent over a goofy “hahaha” emoji. Shen Wanqing leaned against the edge of the bed, a smile curving her lips.

Undeterred, Lu Zhixia kept firing off more emojis without a shred of shame: 【Ahh, I fell down. Need Big Sister to kiss and hug me before I can get up.gif】

Shen Wanqing replied coolly: Then keep lying there.

Lu Zhixia wasn’t fazed. She sent another one: 【I know you’re too shy. Qinqin, hug Big Sister. I love you.gif】

Lu Zhixia seemed to have an endless supply of these emojis. Finally, Shen Wanqing stopped engaging and typed: Go play by yourself.

She set her phone aside and went back to flipping through the financial reports. The people in the living room were being no fun anyway, and she was starting to feel a bit sleepy. She lay down on the sofa, letting drowsiness wash over her.

The next morning, Lu Zhixia was jolted awake by a call from Jiang Menglai, who declared she wanted to grab breakfast from a nearby spot.

Lu Zhixia had been planning to revive her martial arts dreams starting today anyway. She shot Shen Wanqing a quick message and headed out.

There were plenty of breakfast stalls nearby, including one Lu Zhixia had been going to since she was a kid.

Steamed buns, dumplings, noodles, porridge, soy milk, youtiao—whatever you could want, all cheap and delicious.

Lu Zhixia ordered two baskets of xiaolongbao and a bowl of tofu pudding, then sat at the outdoor table, slurping it all down noisily with pure delight.

Jiang Menglai took a sip of soy milk and laughed. “You’d be perfect for mukbang videos.”

Lu Zhixia nabbed a xiaolongbao with her chopsticks, then swapped it for one of Jiang Menglai’s steamed dumplings. She chewed away happily.

“Big Boss.”

“Hm?” Lu Zhixia mumbled around her mouthful of beef dumpling, the rich, savory aroma bursting forth—oily but not greasy.

The two of them stared at each other for a long moment before Jiang Menglai broke into a smile. “Nothing.”

“If something’s up, just say it.” Lu Zhixia didn’t press.

She spent the whole morning at the Martial Arts Gym. During a break, she checked her phone.

No reply from Shen Wanqing. As ten o’clock approached, Lu Zhixia hesitated for a few seconds before calling her.

No answer. Again, no answer.

A hollow feeling settled in Lu Zhixia’s chest. She sat there sipping some water, then scrolled and spotted her mother’s WeChat.

She dialed her up for a voice chat, casually asking if she needed to pick up groceries for lunch, then slipped in offhand: “Where’s Shen Wanqing?”

“Why are you calling her by her full name?”

“It’s not like we’re in Korea—do we really need to stand on ceremony with juniors and seniors?” Lu Zhixia grumbled, then corrected herself. “Fine, where’s Big Sister? Is she eating lunch at home?”

“What do you mean ‘at home’?” Yan Fanghua chided playfully. “We’re all family.”

“Professor Yan, you’re so weird.” Lu Zhixia sighed in exasperation. “Okay, okay—is Big Sister having lunch at home? Better?”

Without waiting for Yan Fanghua to respond, she barreled on: “Whether you like it or not, that’s how it is. If you keep this up, I won’t even know how to talk anymore. Shen Wanqing hasn’t nitpicked, so please don’t either, dear Mom?”

“How do you know she doesn’t nitpick?”

“Don’t believe me? Ask her yourself.”

“Wanqing, do you nitpick?” Yan Fanghua asked directly. Shen Wanqing’s voice came through as always—cool and detached. She hummed an acknowledgment, then said: “I nitpick.”

“Hear that?”

“I heard. You’re both the bosses, really. Dearest Mom, my favorite Big Sister—what do you want for lunch? I’ll buy it and cook it myself, how’s that?” Lu Zhixia put on an exaggerated, silly voice, making Yan Fanghua burst out laughing.

Lu Zhixia headed back at noon with groceries and cooked up three meat dishes, two veggie ones, and a soup. The flavors were so spot-on that even Yan Fanghua was a little surprised.

Watching Lu Zhixia’s practiced movements tugged at her heartstrings.

She’d never cooked much for her daughter. She’d always been overly protective of her own hands, always busy outside, so she’d relied on hiring nannies to handle the meals.

Now she wondered if all that money had been wasted.

Yan Fanghua half-jokingly remarked: “Did you learn to cook Chinese food abroad?”

“Nah.” Lu Zhixia glanced at Shen Wanqing, who was supposedly helping wash veggies but clearly had no idea what she was doing. “I’ve known how for ages.”

“Did those nannies Mom hired teach you?” As soon as Yan Fanghua said it, Lu Zhixia snapped back to attention. She blocked Shen Wanqing and said: “You don’t need to help. Go sit.”

As she nudged Shen Wanqing aside, she gave Yan Fanghua a vague reply: “Sort of.”

Yan Fanghua didn’t press further. After lunch, she headed out.

Shen Wanqing was getting ready to leave too. Lu Zhixia trailed after her like a persistent shadow. “Does whatever it is have to be done at home? Can’t you handle it here?”

“No.” Shen Wanqing was at the entryway, changing out of her slippers. She kicked them off, and Lu Zhixia crouched down to pick up her high heels.

“What are you doing?”

“Putting your shoes on.” Lu Zhixia slipped them onto her feet, then stood up. “Shen Wanqing, can I ask you something?”

She wanted to know why Shen Wanqing hadn’t picked up either of those calls earlier.

“I was sleeping,” Shen Wanqing said flatly.

“And after you woke up?”

“What are you trying to say?”

“I worry about you. At least send me a message back, okay?”

Shen Wanqing reached out a hand, and Lu Zhixia immediately got the hint, passing her the bag. “If you find it too difficult…”

“Then forget it.”

Lu Zhixia grinned wide. “If it’s difficult, I believe Big Sister can overcome any hardship. As a reward, I’ve decided to give you a big kiss.”

She lunged forward, but Shen Wanqing sidestepped her nimbly. “You forgot yesterday’s rule already? Break it again, and you’ll be punished.”

Shen Wanqing stepped out the door and stood downstairs, pulling out her phone.

Lu Zhixia sent over a bunch of crying emojis. Shen Wanqing ignored them, diving into the general settings to set a new notification tone instead.

She switched the vibration to a ringtone too.

Right then, a popup appeared—from Lu Zhixia: Big Sister, look up.

Lu Zhixia was holding something to her lips, blew on it, and tossed it downward.

A paper airplane spiraled in a graceful arc, landing neatly at Shen Wanqing’s feet.

She picked it up and spotted a little folded heart pinned beside it.

Her phone buzzed again. Lu Zhixia’s message read: Big Sister, I folded this ages ago—isn’t it cute? There’s a secret note I wrote back then inside. If you ever fall for me, remember to open it. But only after you’ve fallen!

Shen Wanqing pocketed the paper airplane and walked away. Lu Zhixia cupped her cheeks, beaming as she watched her go.

That graceful figure vanished around the corner, and Lu Zhixia’s smile softened. An emptiness bloomed in her chest, a void no words or distractions could fill.

She lingered by the window for two seconds, then snatched her phone and bolted for the door.

Shen Wanqing slid into the car and carefully unfolded the heart.

Inside was a full-blown love letter, pages of gushing sentiment.

At the bottom, in tiny print: No exchanges if damaged. You’re on your own.

Smack in the center of the paper sat a bold lipstick kiss mark, stamped on deliberately.

A new message from Lu Zhixia: Big Sister! You gone yet?

Shen Wanqing’s car pulled away from the curb. She told the driver to stop and typed back: Not yet. What’s up?

Sister’s Little Dog: Wait for me, ‘kay!

Shen Wanqing had the driver reverse back to the entrance. Lu Zhixia’s voice message burst through, breathless and eager: “I wanna snap a pic of the Red Heart—it’s our love token! I’ll take it myself. Oh, and the luxury ride too! Pretty please, Big Sister?”

There she was, right up close—Lu Zhixia charging toward her with unrestrained glee, tail practically wagging like she’d spotted her owner come to take her home.

Big Doggy was inches away now. Shen Wanqing traced the creases, folding and refolding. Damn it—she couldn’t get it back to its original shape.