Chapter 54: Playing with Fire

Su Yubai’s throat moved, Jiang Yule blinking.

She’d said not to look at her like that, or she couldn’t hold back.

Hold back what? Jiang Yule felt a spark of anticipation.

In a second, those lips descended, a warm, wet touch grazing her neck.

Soft, gentle, ticklish.
Light, yet her body trembled uncontrollably.

Su Yubai’s lips roamed her neck, itch spreading to her heart.

Her breaths reached her ear, intensifying the shivers, her own breath growing heavier.

Voices passed outside, speaking Cantonese.

Mind chaotic, focused only on her lips.

Kissing her collarbone, grazing it lightly.

Trembling harder, a soft, “Sister~”

Her voice husky, pausing at her shirt collar, then moving up her chin, hot breath at her nose.

Breaths entwined, lips hovering above hers, lingering.

Her wrists freed, arms wrapping around Su Yubai’s neck, cooing, “Sister~”

“What.” Voice hoarse, eyes hungry.

“Want kisses and hugs~”

Eyes dropping to her lips, throat moving, “Not pushing it?”

Lashes fluttering, her kiss landed.

Restrained, yet urgent.

Hand on her waist, unnoticed till now.

Skin tingling.

Oh no.

Following her heart, returning the kiss, her hand stroking her waist—light, fleeting.

When it pulled away, Jiang Yule arched to meet it.

Restraint flashed in her mind, but her body acted first.

Chasing her palm, easing the itch, only for a deeper one to surge.

Sensing her, Su Yubai’s grip tightened, nearly kneading.

Shuddering, a shy moan escaped.

Her hand softened, tongue slowing, air returning.

Heat retreating, opening eyes, seeing her profile, flushed eye corners.

Sitting up, coughing, “Tea.”

Staring at her trembling hand holding the cup, blinking, sitting up.

A steaming cup waited on the table.

Heart racing, her breath still uneven.

Face warm, reaching for the cup, hand shaking.

Deep breaths, sipping lightly.

Su Yubai not looking, her face hidden.

Back to calm?

Footsteps outside, voices murmuring.

Regretting her teasing, hooking her finger on Su Yubai’s leg.

She flinched but didn’t pull away.

Turning, face neutral, “Hm?”

“Sister, I messed up,” softly, eyes down.

Watching silently.

No response, looking up, “Mad, Sister?”

She looked calm, not angry—hard to tell, never seen her mad.

Her fingers slipped free, heart jumping.

Seeing her dazed look, amusement flickered, patting her head.

“My fault, couldn’t hold back.”

Blinking, setting down the cup, pulling her hand down, interlocking fingers.

Leaning on her shoulder, “Did you like it?”

“Like what?”

Cheeks burning, burying face in her neck, “Did you like… doing that to me?”

No answer, more shy, wrapping her waist, burying deeper.

Throat moving, looking, then away, coughing, “Did you?”

Peeking, “Y-Yeah.”

“And you?”

No reply, persistent.

Pushing her head back, leaning against the sofa, sighing, “Me too.”

Tightening her hold, giggling.

“Love you, Sister.”

Too close, Su Yubai avoiding her gaze.

“Work time.”

“Oh.” Releasing her, sitting up.

Not looking, sipping tea.

Heading to her desk.

A strange thought struck Jiang Yule.

Setting down the cup, sitting opposite, opening her laptop.

Recalling her mom’s question about her paper, logging into the submission portal with Su Yubai’s credentials.

Short review cycle, now in external review. Screenshot sent to Jiang Huazhen.

Quick reply: [First author to you, Yubai’s great.]

Sending an emoji, [Of course she’s great.]

Simultaneous: [Good chance?]

Glancing at Su Yubai, focused on documents, replying, [Dunno.]

Jiang Huazhen: [Yubai published there, odds are good.]

[Get close, more top-tier chances.]

Another message.

Deep breaths, replying, [Don’t worry, I’ll work hard.]

Sensing her dodge, a curt: [Work hard.]

As if effort was nothing to her.

Closing WeChat, trying to revise per Qiao Anqing’s suggestions, mind unsettled.

What if Mom found out about them?

Force her to leave? Cause trouble at Su Yubai’s work?

“Yule.”

Looking up, her eyes on her, startled, “Huh?”

“Not focused.”

Pouting, curious, propping chin, “How’d you know, Sister?”

Looking at her screen, “Staring blankly, eyes still.”

Eyes curving, “Were you sneaking looks?”

“No.”

Pouting, “Don’t believe you, how else’d you know?”

“Not sneaking.”

“Oh~” Voice curling playfully.

Glancing, “Focus.”

“Yes, Professor Su!”

One last peek, diving into her paper.

Qiao Anqing’s advice echoed Su Yubai’s: weak storytelling, unclear problem significance, disjointed analysis, methods and variables needing theory.

Common for grad students, advised to write more.

Lunchtime, “What to eat?”

“Cafeteria,” softly, adding, “Professor Qiao messaged, meeting this afternoon.”

Puzzled, “Last-minute?”

Nodding, “Yup.”

No more questions, “Let’s eat.”

Saving files, hibernating laptop, packing.

“Straight to the meeting after?”

“Yup, need to prep progress, in case Qiao asks.”

Silent, “She might not.”

Giggling, “Maybe not.”

“For uncertainties, prepare for the worst.”

Nodding, waiting as she packed.

Leaving first, Su Yubai locking the door, seeing her outstretched hand, hesitating, then taking it.

Sensing her pause, wondering if imagined.

After lunch, Su Yubai walked her to the meeting building.

Holding her hand, reluctant, “Professor Su not joining?”

“Not joining.” Thumb grazing her hand.

Giggling, “Why call yourself ‘Professor Su’?”

“Copying you.”

“Oh, fine.”

Raising their hands, “Hm?”

Not looking, eyeing her hand, “In a hurry, Sister?”

“No.” Lowering hands.

“Then stay a bit?”

Her pleading tone hard to resist, almost hugging her, but spotting a familiar figure, whispering, “Your senior’s here.”

Lashes trembling, looking—Wen Yanqing approaching, smiling, fingers stiffening.

“Junior, early?”

Pausing, not letting go, stepping closer, hiding their hands.

Dry laugh, “Senior, you too.”

Wen’s smile steady, glancing at Su Yubai, nodding, “Hello, Professor Su.”

“Hello.” Calm, brief.

“Junior, I’ll head up.”

Wen asked nothing, passing, as if blind.

Watching her, relieved.

Looking up, “She was at B University’s meeting.”

“Yup, saw you say you liked me.”

Jumping in front, “Professor Su, we’ve been spotted.”

Looking at their hands, “So, not letting go?”

Blinking, “Why would I?”

“More classmates later.”

“Good, show off.” Pinching her knuckles.

Helpless, “You were right.”

“What?”

“You’re clingy.”

“Don’t you like it?”

“…I do.”