Chapter 15: A Sister’s Intricate Lies

Unable to articulate precisely what was unfolding, Qian Xidong accepted the thermometer, then promptly burrowed her head deep into the blankets.

She let out two delicate coughs, meticulously feigning the indisposition of a truly sick person.

Then, in a soft, saccharine voice she would never ordinarily employ, she declared her hunger.

“Would you prefer takeout, or something your sister cooks?”

“…Something my sister cooks.”

“Oh my… In that case, how about Xidong’s absolute favorites: corn and egg pancakes, stir-fried beef with yam, and some lemongrass-infused roasted salmon?”

“Stop speaking to me like I’m a child… Just leave!”

A beaming Qian Surou murmured an affirmative “Alright, I understand,” before departing.

With dusk already settling, she knew she had to procure the ingredients swiftly.

‘It’s fortunate I remembered to bring the mini oven when we moved,’ she mused, ‘otherwise, preparing meals would be an absolute headache.’

Given that Xidong, a ballet dancer, needed to meticulously manage her body fat, and with their family chef no longer present, Qian Surou realized she alone would have to shoulder the cooking duties.

Having swiftly penned a shopping list, Qian Surou recalled the prior arrangement she had made with Xiao Ji.

She then circled Thursday on her calendar, resolving to visit Xiao Ji’s home after work that day, ensuring their established friendship wouldn’t grow distant.

‘Even if we aren’t lovers, a relationship still requires diligent upkeep,’ she thought.

While television dramas frequently depicted scenarios where former lovers could seamlessly transition into friends, reality presented Qian Surou with an invisible chasm.

She harbored a deep apprehension that they could never reclaim their carefree past, and that even this ‘friendship’ would necessitate conscious effort to preserve.

Yet, Qian Surou felt no aversion to such deliberate maintenance; it was akin to receiving a reward for one’s efforts, reflecting how human relationships ought to function.

It was merely that, in the past, neither of them had truly grasped this fundamental truth.

Qian Surou returned to Qian Xidong’s room.

Knock, knock!

This time, she remembered to knock.

“Come in!”

During Qian Surou’s absence, Qian Xidong retrieved the thermometer from beneath her armpit.

She then ‘enhanced’ the reading, employing the classic ruse of a middle schooler feigning a fever to avoid school.

Carefully, she mixed the residual hot water from the red-and-white kettle and submerged the thermometer’s tip, ensuring the display would hover around 38 degrees Celsius.

A wave of guilt from her deception washed over her, yet she fortuitously found herself ensconced within the summer quilt.

Qian Xidong felt a peculiar blend of relief and wretchedness; even though her demeanor was that of a clumsy suspect, her sister remained oblivious to the sordid truth.

With her walkman softly playing her sister’s voice, the name she ceaselessly whispered in her fantasies, the delicate beads of sweat clinging to her forehead, the profound disorientation of a ship adrift in a winter sea with a lost rudder, and the hollow void where an inner light had once briefly flickered before extinguishing—all these sensations coalesced within her.

The rapid oscillation between impatient longing and the crushing despair of potential exposure was akin to plummeting from the sky, only to discover oneself paradoxically stranded in Neverland.

No longer wishing to utter the appellation “sister,” Qian Xidong extended the thermometer.

Within her sister’s Neverland resided a “younger sister” destined never to mature.

Another eternity, she realized, was an unending, unassailable lie.

The burden of both truths was simply too much for the two people she loved most to bear.

A cool towel was gently placed upon Qian Xidong’s forehead.

A bewildered smile touched her lips as she thought of the person who stirred such jealousy within her, and she even voiced the question aloud.

“Do you still like Ji Yushu?”

Sensing Qian Surou’s unwavering gaze and observing the arm that had frozen mid-air, Qian Xidong found her answer.

She had once believed that Ji Yushu was not the person her sister awaited, and that Ji Yushu, much like herself, was simply destined for failure.

Qian Xidong had persistently believed her sister did not love her.

Then, with startling clarity, she distinctly heard an answer that utterly contradicted her own perception.

“I don’t like her anymore.”

Qian Surou’s tone carried a hint of surprise.

Presumably, she had not anticipated her sister’s keen interest in her romantic life.

While all summaries inevitably risked oversimplification, Qian Xidong firmly believed in the adage that girls, particularly in matters of love, often said one thing and meant another.

Did she truly require an explicit answer to placate her own dark machinations?

If her sister genuinely liked Ji Yushu, what harm could come from entrusting her to Ji Yushu’s care?

Indeed, if she were to reveal her sister’s past and true feelings to Ji Yushu, the two might well blossom into a genuine loving couple.

Ultimately, what truly saddened her was the notion of her sister falling for someone else.

As for Ji Yushu, that was not her own mistake.

If Ji Yushu’s intentions were in doubt, then being out of the running was a deserved fate.

That was correct.

Her sister deserved to love someone far better.

“—Sister…”

The words eluded her.

Yet, her suspicion had already been eloquently conveyed through her gaze.

This time, her sister’s eyes did not waver; they shimmered with the brilliance of distant stars.

Though merely reflecting the decorative lights within the room, they nonetheless instilled in Qian Xidong a profound sense of unwavering determination.

“Xidong… will you be free on Tuesday?”

It was a question that scarcely warranted an answer, for Qian Xidong, of course, yearned to be with her sister at every moment.

She offered a dazed, affirmative hum, her gaze fixed with an almost obsessive intensity on the hand her sister gently held.

“Well then, after I finish work, let’s visit Mother together.

Afterward, you can accompany me to see Xiao Ji; you’ll understand everything once you witness it firsthand.”

“I’m not *that* curious…”

“Hehe, just consider it your sister wanting to be lazy and skip making dinner that day!”

“I can cook too.”

“But—”

“I understand… you think my cooking is dreadful! Yes, yes, I can’t possibly measure up to you, our omnipotent Miss Qian.

I’ve grown utterly weary of hearing remarks like, ‘If only I were half as brilliant as Senior Qian.'”

Her sister’s presence was ubiquitous, as if she were a living fossil of Linhua Women’s Academy.

Award-winning paintings adorned the corridors, carved stone sculptures were prominently displayed in the craft room, and an array of meticulously shaped cookies she had baked were sealed in vacuum bags, showcased as exemplary works from the baking club.

Beyond these, a multitude of photographs were also on display, capturing her as the lead vocalist in the choir, an external soloist for the orchestra, a recipient of various competition awards, an outstanding student, and even the subject of off-campus interviews.

“—You’re Senior Qian’s younger sister, aren’t you?”

Qian Xidong had heard those very words uttered by countless individuals.

Each comparison, rather than sparking jealousy, ignited a profound sense of urgency, akin to falling behind in a race.

If she didn’t relentlessly pursue her, her sister felt as though she might simply vanish.

Even Ji Yushu, the object of her sister’s affection, had become an integral part of this relentless chase.

Dance, an activity she had once held little fondness for, had now transformed into a skill she could proudly display.

This was primarily because her sister enjoyed watching Ji Yushu’s amateur dance steps.

‘She’s still watching me; that’s all that matters,’ Qian Xidong mused inwardly.

“Even with such sudden praise, there will only be three dishes tonight!

However, I can accept reservations; consider it a reward for my adorable, sweet-tongued little sister.”

Qian Surou delivered a playful wink, striking directly at Qian Xidong’s heart.

“Adorable and sweet-tongued? Where exactly is this person you speak of?”

She gave her wonderfully soft forearm a gentle squeeze before releasing it, the lingering echo of her sister’s smiling departure still resonating in her ears.

Her restless heart refused to settle; such intimate contact had been a rarity for far too long.

While one part of her regretted not having captured the moment with a recording or a photograph, her body, once again, betrayed her.

Attributing her actions to the exhaustion and repression of her practice, Qian Xidong rushed to take a cold shower.

She then turned on the air conditioner, letting the cool air wash over her, and only after truly experiencing dizziness and discomfort did she finally retreat back into her blankets.

‘If falling ill could ensure my sister’s care—’

‘How utterly foolish!’