Chapter 41
“If you’re ever in trouble, tell me. I’ll protect you too.”
Lou Mi, used to being the protector, the one in charge, was taken aback by Chi Lin’s words.
It was a novel experience, a warm, fuzzy feeling spreading through her chest, a smile playing on her lips.
She took a sip of her lemonade, her demeanor suddenly shy and demure.
“I totally believe you can protect me,” she said, her voice soft and sweet. “That cafeteria takedown was impressive. That martial arts manual is powerful stuff.”
Chi Lin, playing along, said, “It is.”
“So… why are you so stingy? Share the wealth. Let me learn your secret techniques.”
“I’m not stopping you. Didn’t I tell you to start with the exercises? You only practiced the horse stance with me for two days, then disappeared.”
“I’ve been busy… Fine, fine, we’ll practice together whenever I have time.”
Chi Lin knew she was making excuses and didn’t press further, gracefully eating her lunch.
“Do you… teach your classmates these… techniques?” Lou Mi asked, curious about Chi Lin’s behavior at school.
She imagined Chi Lin leading a group of students in martial arts exercises during the school’s morning routine, a recipe for another parent-teacher meeting.
Chi Lin, interpreting her question as a subtle expression of possessiveness, a desire to keep their martial arts practice private, said, “No.”
Lou Mi was relieved. “Good.”
Chi Lin, seeing her satisfied expression, shook her head internally. Such a possessive child.
Their food arrived, and Lou Mi, as she ate, said, “My school wasn’t exactly… friendly. Lots of drama and fights, even at a top school like mine.”
“Why?” Chi Lin asked. The Imperial Academy in Dayuan had its share of competition, but it was never so openly hostile and malicious.
“It’s a transitional period. Everyone’s struggling, competing with each other and with robots. The pressure is immense,” Lou Mi said, dipping a piece of roasted goose in sauce.
“People start stepping on each other in school. Getting into a good university is incredibly competitive. They look at your grades and your overall performance throughout high school. A single blemish on your record can ruin your chances. Of course, grades are still the most important factor. You have to pass the entrance exam. So focus on your studies.”
Chi Lin scoffed. “Instead of improving themselves, they try to bring others down. How pathetic.”
“People will do anything to get ahead. It gets even worse in college. There have been cases of… murder. Stabbings, poisonings, even high-tech crimes.”
Chi Lin wasn’t afraid of murder. She had killed many who had tried to kill her.
But she couldn’t reveal that to Lou Mi. It would scare her.
She had to appear appropriately frightened, a timid teenager intimidated by such violence.
She stared at the table and sighed dramatically.
“There you go again, channeling your inner old man,” Lou Mi said. “You shouldn’t be so passive. Fight back when necessary. But that Liu Huixin is out of the picture now. I spoke to your homeroom teacher. She said Liu Huixin’s family is struggling financially. They’re on welfare, and she’s receiving financial aid. And she’s wasting her time on this nonsense instead of studying.”
So she’s the one who’s poor, Chi Lin thought, amused. Liu Huixin had been projecting her own insecurities onto others.
“Ms. Qi is confident she can… straighten her out after talking to her mother.”
“I hope so,” Chi Lin said.
“Let me know if anything else happens. I’ll talk to your teachers again.”
Chi Lin, remembering the chaos Lou Mi’s visit had caused, said, “No, please don’t. You said I should fight back. I will. You don’t have to come to the school again.”
“You’re scared of me now?” Lou Mi teased.
Their dessert arrived, “East Wind Last Night,” a layered concoction in a tall glass, the top half swirled with mist, the bottom half dark and mysterious.
Chi Lin took a bite and grimaced.
It was incredibly sweet.
Lou Mi, however, enjoyed it, her sweet tooth unfazed.
“What’s wrong? Don’t you like it?”
“It’s too sweet,” Chi Lin said, putting down her spoon.
“Give it to me then. Don’t waste it.”
“But I already…”
“I don’t mind.”
Lou Mi took Chi Lin’s dessert and finished both servings.
Even watching her eat it made Chi Lin’s throat feel sticky.
“Aren’t you sick of it?”
“Nope. I love sweet things.”
The Empress had also loved sweets, especially iced desserts, even in winter.
Chi Lin remembered watching her devour ice-cold pastries, shivering at the thought.
So Lou Mi and the Empress shared a similar taste in food.
Chi Lin looked at Lou Mi, a thought forming in her mind.
Could Lou Mi be the Empress?
Their appearances were different, yet there were similarities.
She decided to test Lou Mi’s reaction to Fu Xuan Zi.
“I’ll pick you up after school,” Lou Mi said, as they got into the car. “We’re going to my grandparents’ house again tonight. They want to sing with you.”
Chi Lin enjoyed singing Yuqiang with them, but remembering her sleepless night there, she asked, “Will we be staying overnight?”
Lou Mi, also remembering the awkward sleeping arrangements, coughed slightly. “I… don’t think so. I’ll ask my dad.”
“Okay.”
.
Wei Zhuoning, still engrossed in her phone, her fingers flying across the screen, hadn’t touched her food.
Lin Xiaozhi, picking up a piece of beef, tossed it into her bowl, almost knocking it over.
“Hey!” Wei Zhuoning exclaimed. “Don’t throw food! That’s disrespectful.”
“You’re the one being disrespectful, playing on your phone while the food gets cold.”
“I’m capturing inspiration. It’ll be gone if I don’t write it down now.”
“Inspiration for your… novel?”
“Yeah…”
Lin Xiaozhi sighed. A writer’s inspiration was sacred.
She remained silent while Wei Zhuoning typed furiously for ten minutes, finally capturing the ideas sparked by Lou Mi’s appearance.
She looked up and noticed Lin Xiaozhi hadn’t eaten anything.
“Why aren’t you eating? The food is getting cold.”
“I can’t eat while watching you ignore me.”
“…What’s with the attitude today? Just eat. We have to go back to class soon.”
Wei Zhuoning ate quickly, shoveling food into her mouth without even looking at it.
Lin Xiaozhi, however, couldn’t stand cold food. It upset her stomach instantly.
Watching Wei Zhuoning eat, Lin Xiaozhi, sulking, stood up.
“Where are you going?” Wei Zhuoning asked.
“Leaving,” Lin Xiaozhi replied, grabbing her bag and paying for their meal before walking out.
Is she angry?
Wei Zhuoning, not wanting to waste the food, quickly packed the leftovers and rushed after her.
Lin Xiaozhi, her long legs carrying her quickly, turned a corner and stopped, clutching her stomach, her face pale. She hadn’t noticed Wei Zhuoning following her.
“Xiaozhi?”
She looked up and saw Tan Luo.
“What’s wrong?” Tan Luo asked, concerned, her school uniform covered by a pink down jacket. She was alone, a rare occurrence.
Lin Xiaozhi brushed away Tan Luo’s hand, which had instinctively reached out to touch her arm.
Tan Luo, unfazed, smiled, her long hair shimmering in the sunlight.
If Lin Xiaozhi hadn’t known her so well, she might have been fooled by her beauty.
“I’m fine…” she mumbled.
“We’re practically family now. No need to be so formal. Is your stomach acting up again?”
Lin Xiaozhi didn’t answer.
“Look, I might have dumped you, but you broke my leg, remember? Three months on crutches. We’re even,” Tan Luo said, seemingly not holding a grudge. “And you didn’t exactly… suffer during our relationship.”
“If you mention our past again, I’ll rip your tongue out.”
“Okay, okay, I won’t. I have some stomach medicine at school. Let’s go. I’ll get it for you. You can’t just stand here.”
Tan Luo reached out again, and this time, Lin Xiaozhi didn’t resist.
Wei Zhuoning, turning the corner, saw Lin Xiaozhi clutching her stomach, leaning on Tan Luo for support.
What’s wrong?
She was about to approach them when she realized it was Tan Luo.
Tan Luo smiled at Lin Xiaozhi, who, though not reciprocating, didn’t pull away. They seemed… happy.
Tan Luo led Lin Xiaozhi to a car parked nearby. The door opened automatically, and they got in.
The car drove away, and Wei Zhuoning’s heart sank.
She slowly walked back to school, watching the car disappear.
After taking the medicine Tan Luo gave her, Lin Xiaozhi felt drowsy throughout the afternoon, her head resting on her desk whenever she had a chance.
Chi Lin asked, “Are you feeling okay?”
Lin Xiaozhi pointed at her stomach. “Just my usual stomach problems. I took some medicine.”
Chi Lin glanced at Wei Zhuoning, who was leaning forward, staring at them.
The last two classes were math. The teacher was absent, and the class representative proctored the exam.
With ten minutes left before the exam, Chi Lin gestured to Wei Zhuoning, offering to switch seats.
Wei Zhuoning shook her head, poured a glass of water for Lin Xiaozhi, and asked Chi Lin to give it to her.
Chi Lin, acting as a messenger, tapped Lin Xiaozhi’s arm and handed her the water.
Wei Zhuoning watched from her corner seat. Chi Lin seemed to say something, and Lin Xiaozhi looked at her. Wei Zhuoning quickly looked down, pretending to be busy.
Remembering Lin Xiaozhi and Tan Luo leaving together, she thought they looked perfect together, two beautiful and successful women.
What was she compared to them?
Lin Xiaozhi had so many better options…
Distracted by her thoughts, Wei Zhuoning struggled to focus on the exam. With ten minutes left, she had only finished half of it.
Chi Lin, however, was on a roll, estimating a score of at least 70.
Lin Xiaozhi, still feeling unwell, but confident in her math skills, had reached the last problem.
It looked complicated. She calculated her current score, over 95%, and decided to skip the last problem and take a nap.
When the exam ended, Wei Zhuoning felt a wave of despair.
She had only finished half the exam, most of her multiple-choice answers random guesses.
She was doomed to another failing grade.
The students packed their bags and rushed out, eager to escape.
An early dismissal!
Chi Lin messaged Lou Mi, saying she was leaving.
Lou Mi replied quickly: “No extra classes today? Meet me at the usual spot, the convenience store. I’m already here.”
Chi Lin replied “Okay” and turned around, startled by a group of faces surrounding her.
“What are you doing?” she asked, clutching her phone protectively.
Dong Xiangwen grinned. “Messaging Sister Lou?”
Chi Lin: “…”
Another classmate said, “You two are so close. Matching rings and everything.”
“Rings?” Chi Lin asked, surprised, looking at her hands. She wasn’t wearing any rings.
“You’re wearing it as a pendant,” Dong Xiangwen explained. “We saw it in the cafeteria fight pictures. And when Lou-jie was at the window… that ring was sparkling.”
“So it’s a couple ring?”
Chi Lin wanted to deny it, but it was true.
“Lin Lin, do you really live with Lou-jie? Is she coming to pick you up now?”
“Does she always pick you up? We’ve never seen her before.”
“So discreet! Keeping your famous sister a secret. I would have bragged about it.”
“What’s Lou-jie like at home? Just curious.”
“Hey, Lin Lin! Don’t run away!”
Chi Lin, overwhelmed by their questions, rushed out of the classroom, her backpack bouncing against her back.
As she entered the elevator, Dong Xiangwen and the others tried to follow, but she quickly pressed the “Close Door” button.
“Hey! Chi Lin!”
The doors closed, separating them.
Chi Lin breathed a sigh of relief, then noticed the stares from the other passengers.
“You’re Chi Lin?”
“HighTowerMiyuki’s sister?”
“The one from the sword dance!”
“Is it true HighTowerMiyuki came to school to see you today?!”
Chi Lin: “…”
She suddenly felt like the protagonist in a zombie movie, being chased by a horde of… fans.
She forced a smile and pushed her way out of the elevator, her senses heightened, like a general leading a night raid, every movement, every sound triggering her vigilance.
She spotted Lou Mi’s car and quickly got in.
Lou Mi, browsing the gaming forums, saw her panicked expression and chuckled.
“Being chased?”
“Pretty much,” Chi Lin replied, wanting to say “It’s all your fault,” then remembering her classmates also called Lou Mi “Sister” and deciding against it.
“Just ignore them. They’ll get bored eventually. My dad and your mom are already at my grandparents’ house, waiting for us.”
“Let’s go,” Chi Lin said, glancing nervously behind her.
“Hold on. Come here.”
“What?”
Lou Mi switched her phone to selfie mode. “Come closer.”
Chi Lin hesitated. Lou Mi leaned towards her.
“Are you taking a…”
Before Chi Lin could finish, Lou Mi snapped a picture of them, their heads close together.
“Ugh,” she said, looking at the picture, dissatisfied. Her own slightly upturned nose and casual pose were fine. She didn’t care about angles, even for livestreams. Her fans praised her confidence, claiming she looked beautiful from any angle.
But Chi Lin’s expression was… awkward. Her mouth slightly open, her face tense and surprised, her overall demeanor… goofy. Lou Mi laughed, the car shaking with her amusement.
Chi Lin, wary of cameras and photographs, always felt self-conscious in front of a lens.
And now Lou Mi was laughing at her.
Annoyed, she tugged at Lou Mi’s sleeve.
“Delete it,” she said.
“Okay, okay, I’ll delete it,” Lou Mi said, still chuckling.
“I want to see you delete it.”
“I deleted it. See?”
Lou Mi hadn’t actually deleted it.
Chi Lin, not believing her, snatched the phone.
Lou Mi, caught off guard, exclaimed, “Hey! That’s not fair!”
Chi Lin saw the picture, her expression indeed goofy, and quickly deleted it.
“How dare you delete my picture?!” Lou Mi protested, grabbing her phone back.
“How dare you take my picture without my permission?” Chi Lin retorted.
“I wanted to post a picture of us on Weibo, to… officially introduce you as my sister, to stop the rumors.”
“That will only make me more popular at school.”
“Don’t worry. They’re just curious about you. The more mysterious you are, the more they’ll dig. Just be yourself. Once they realize you’re not hiding anything, they’ll lose interest.”
Chi Lin considered her words. It made sense.
“Okay, one more picture. But look natural this time,” Lou Mi said, leaning closer again.
Chi Lin, unsure how to “look natural,” simply imitated Lou Mi.
Lou Mi, seeing her stiff expression, said, “Relax. Smile.”
Chi Lin’s forced smile looked even more awkward.
“…Just… be yourself,” Lou Mi said, giving up.
After several attempts, each picture more awkward than the last, Chi Lin said, “My face hurts…”
Lou Mi sighed. “Of course, it hurts. You’re so tense. Don’t girls your age take selfies all the time? You have such a pretty face. Why do you always look so… serious?”
Chi Lin glared at her. “You told me to be myself.”
Lou Mi, defeated, said, “Fine, even your serious face is pretty.”
She chose a picture where their heads were close together, posted it without any editing or filters, and added a simple caption: “My sister.”
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