Chapter 20: The Art of Calculated Vulnerability

“Ji Yushu sent me to fetch you; my sister has brought pastries.”

“As I suspected, Sister Qian has arrived. I recognized her footsteps instantly, much like a lover ardently awaiting their darling.” Xiao Yuqin’s smile was remarkably gentle, as if her sister’s happiness brought her profound joy.

‘It was almost as if those words were meant for my ears alone,’ Qian Xidong thought, utterly distrusting the saccharine smile.

“Oh, really? Perhaps it is as you say… Lately, my sister has been practically haunting the school, and I can’t think of any other reason besides seeking out Ji Yushu. Considering everything, she’s likely preparing a confession.”

“My sister hasn’t breathed a word of it.”

“My sister hasn’t said anything, but it’s clear even to a blind man. She’s painting, and the identity of her muse is hardly a mystery.” Qian Xidong’s tone abruptly shifted. “They’re going to watch ‘Winter in Kairnasos,’ just the two of them.”

Within the dim confines of the audio-visual room, with a romantic film acting as a potent catalyst, any number of blush-inducing, heart-quickening moments would hardly be surprising—assuming, of course, that the two individuals were genuine lovers.

Qian Xidong deliberately refrained from exposing the truth of a failed romance, allowing the space for lingering imagination.

As for the delicate beauty before her, Qian Xidong harbored no romantic thoughts, dismissing her as merely a crude imitation of her sister.

From her hairstyle to her posture, and even the very cadence of her speech, she fell far short of the original’s grace.

“Do you need help?”

Her gaze flickered to the wheelchair, which sat a short distance from the bed. “That’s remote-controlled, isn’t it?”

“The remote was left on the table,” Xiao Yuqin replied, her voice soft.

Qian Xidong could almost intuit the girl’s unspoken desire: she wished for her sister to lift her onto the wheelchair. Instead, an utterly inconsequential stranger had appeared.

A sigh escaped her lips. Deciding to carry the girl for once, she then crouched before the bed, adorned with its pink and white argyle sheets.

“Come on, you can manage, can’t you?” Qian Xidong prompted. Moments later, she felt a weight, undeniably not her own, settle onto her back.

The girl felt even lighter than her sister.

“You’re probably thinking something terribly rude, aren’t you? My legs may be immobile, but my waist is perfectly functional, and in every other aspect, I’m no different from anyone else.”

“Despite your protests, every single time you interrupt to ask Ji Yushu to take you to the restroom. It’s hardly a sphincter issue, is it?

Or do you deliberately choose those moments when they’re deep in conversation? Don’t fret, even if you truly can’t control it, I wouldn’t dream of mocking you.”

“You, your personality is utterly detestable. And what’s with that high ponytail, practically tickling everyone’s faces? Weren’t you sporting a stylish French bob just recently?”

Having been rather unceremoniously deposited into the wheelchair, Xiao Yuqin cast a look of displeasure at Qian Xidong.

“Longer hair simply enhances the performance.”

“Performance?”

“Ballet.”

Qian Xidong rose to her full height, her posture and stature commanding and utterly convincing. Yet, true dance mastery was not achieved overnight, and the sudden change in hairstyle felt more like a convenient pretext.

Xiao Yuqin, too, was acutely aware of the change. Two years prior, Qian Xidong had worn her hair short, just like her sister. Now, two years later, both sported high ponytails.

The individual impassively wheeling her downstairs was a frequent performer in cross-gender dance roles for the drama troupe.

Possessing prowess in both dance and acting, coupled with formidable athletic ability, Qian Xidong’s talents mirrored her sister’s in almost every way, save for her chilling demeanor and venomous tongue.

Even if every minute detail was entirely unintentional, it failed to conceal the underlying intentions.

‘An astonishingly consistent ugliness,’ she mused inwardly.

Snapping back to reality, Xiao Yuqin found herself positioned before the long kitchen counter. She proceeded to lift the artfully arranged pastries and set them upon the dining table, then illuminated the decorative chandelier.

Her mood, much like the heat-warped desserts on the table, was a fragile thing, as she watched the two figures bathed in shimmering light, her smile a thousand fractured pieces.

The untitled email she had received resurfaced vividly in her mind.

Two figures, locked in an embrace beneath the setting sun.

The enemy, like a flawless masterpiece gracing a grand hall, seemed to have everything effortlessly within their grasp, yet they had come to seize her hard-earned happiness.

That damnable smile, the subtle recoil when fingertips accidentally brushed, the delicate, peach-blossom blush on their cheeks. Merely pouring a drink, and the very air seemed to thicken, growing heavy with unspoken tension.

‘Remember to remain calm,’ she admonished herself. ‘Reign in these destructive impulses. Before Sister develops any aversion to this person, ensure no trace of your dirty thoughts clings to you.

Use your foolish little brain to devise a strategy to drive them away. Never forget, you are the vulnerable one, and Sister cares for you more. Yes, that’s precisely it.’

“Sister, didn’t Mom send us two boxes of truffle chocolates from Budapest last time? I’ve just remembered… Could you possibly bring them down to share with Sister Qian? They’re in that cabinet where we keep the medicine, you know the one.”

She was a master at wielding her own particular weapons, understanding that judicious words always carried more weight than a fool’s cacophony.

“I can assist,”

Qian Xidong offered, lingering by the staircase. However, Ji Yushu, having already arranged the coffee cups, readily volunteered for the task, citing her greater familiarity with the room’s layout as the reason, implying there would be no difficulties.

A smile, subtly conveying ‘my sister is always so considerate,’ graced Ji Yushu’s face as she practically skipped up the stairs.

Qian Surou, balancing the tray, shared an understanding smile at Ji Yushu’s impetuousness.

Her gaze drifted to the shifting brilliance beyond the French windows. That day’s sunset, like today’s, had been a deeply profound hue.

Yet, remaining here now, with such tranquility, devoid of even a flicker of internal struggle, did it perhaps signify that the love within her heart was, in truth, nothing more than this?

Qian Surou meticulously arranged the coffee cups, her gaze momentarily lost on her own designated mug.

Swiftly regaining her composure, she embodied the grace of Linhua Girls’ Academy’s celebrated talent, gently sliding out a long chair and humming a cheerful dancer’s melody, cultivating the warm ambiance befitting a proper tea party.

“Xiao Yuqin, let me help you.”

A noticeable height discrepancy existed between the wheelchair and the table. Qian Surou, with practiced ease, positioned herself beside the chair, slipping one hand beneath Xiao Yuqin’s atrophied legs and the other to support the slender nape of her neck.

“Heave-ho,” she murmured, a soft grunt of effort.

Yet, Xiao Yuqin, cradled in the embrace, feigned a look of surprise.

What should have been a routine maneuver now unfolded like an unfortunate mishap, and Qian Xidong observed every detail with chilling clarity—the woman had deliberately shifted her weight, causing her shoulder to collide with her sister’s chest.

“Ah, be careful!”

Losing her balance with alarming ease, Qian Surou cried out, her primary concern for Xiao Yuqin cradled in her arms. She strained to orient her back downwards, hoping to cushion their fall.

With a jarring thud, the back of her head struck the brick surface, eliciting an involuntary cry of pain. Yet, the girl in her embrace remained unharmed.

Finding herself unable to rise unaided, Qian Surou twisted her head to gaze at Qian Xidong, who sat watching from her seat.

“Xidong, lend a hand.”

Before Qian Xidong could even utter a word, she spotted Ji Yushu descending the stairs.

The sight of the unfolding mishap rendered Ji Yushu visibly anxious; she abandoned the exquisite box she carried and, much like an impetuous primary school boy, leaped down an entire flight of stairs, clearly fearing the worst.

Qian Surou, pinned beneath, wore an expression of helpless resignation. Just as she was about to offer an explanation, a voice, soft and delicate yet brimming with feigned remorse, reached her ears—

“Sister, it’s all my fault! Sister Qian was trying to carry me to the chair, but I haven’t been feeling well today, and I was so worried about passing my cold to her that I inadvertently shifted my body. I misjudged my movements, and it caused Sister Qian to fall… cough, cough!”

The girl’s delicate features were contorted, ostensibly from the effort of enduring pain, ensuring no one would fault this pitiable creature.

Qian Xidong observed the entire spectacle with a cold, detached gaze: Ji Yushu inquiring if the girl’s back hurt, placing a hand on her forehead to check for fever, and, upon confirming a slight temperature, lifting her into her arms.

Yet, her final glance at her sister, still prone on the floor, was merely apologetic, as if to convey—‘I am helpless.’

And still, her sister waited, as she always did.

‘This person did it on purpose,’ Qian Xidong yearned to tell her sister. But her sister merely steadied herself and rose, her expression utterly unperturbed, completely indifferent to the indignity.

Qian Xidong extended a hand to pull her sister up, deliberately applying more force than necessary, causing the slightly unbalanced woman to stumble into her embrace.

She then leaned close, exhaling warm breath against the bare curve of her sister’s neck.

“Sis, you’re truly so foolish. She wouldn’t even set that person down in the wheelchair before helping you up. What on earth do you see in someone like that? Everything else might be alright, but your judgment is simply terrible.”

“Haha!”

Yet, her sister, as always, offered a natural, unconcerned smile.

“If you, Xidong, were feeling unwell, I would likely do precisely as Xiao Ji did! And it’s not merely because we’re good friends; the same would hold true even if we were lovers…

Only those capable of discerning true priorities are truly deserving of affection, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Tsk!” Qian Xidong clicked her tongue in irritation. “I’d wager you have an extraordinarily high chance of encountering domestic violence in the future; you’re simply too easily swayed.”