A Straight Wife Fallen from the Sky - Chapter 21

Mu Jiahui was impartial, cold, and emotionless.

There was no way she could be defeated by mere acting cute.

“Mumu~” Sang Zhancheng wagged her tail very happily.

Combined with that pure and lovely expression, it inevitably made Mu Jiahui think of the stray dog she had picked up before.

It was a white mutt, incredibly dirty, yet still full of passion toward Mu Jiahui. Every time the little dog acted cute to beg for food, its tail would wag just like this.

Mu Jiahui felt a shameful softening of her heart—all because of a reason she absolutely could not say out loud.

“Alright… but no dawdling. Eat a bit faster, or else I’ll personally feed you.”

Mu Jiahui couldn’t for the life of her understand how she could associate Sang Zhancheng with her little dog. It must be because they both had tails.

Looking at Sang Zhancheng’s swaying heart-tipped tail, Mu Jiahui accepted her fate. She couldn’t be blamed; the way that little tail wagged so happily really did look like a puppy.

Recalling the experience of being force-fed by Mu Jiahui that morning, Sang Zhancheng’s chewing speed increased… by about three frames.

Mu Jiahui still finished the lunch prepared by Sang’s mother in five minutes, and spent another two minutes washing the bowls and spoons clean.

She hadn’t actually been idle while eating; she was looking over the organized biology materials. After finishing, while waiting for Sang Zhancheng, Mu Jiahui flipped through almost all the parts of high school biology that were different, sketching out a rough tree diagram. Meanwhile, she kept checking the time.

Sang Zhancheng grew a bit nervous from her frequent glances at her phone. Her eyes stared at Mu Jiahui’s phone, and in a moment of distraction, her swallowing involuntarily slowed down.

Half an hour had passed since Sang Zhancheng started eating. Mu Jiahui put down the book in her hand.

“It’s been half an hour.” Mu Jiahui looked at the half-bowl of rice still sitting there, and that urge to feed her surfaced again.

She had told her to eat faster, but she really only moved a tiny bit faster.

Clack! Sang Zhancheng tossed the spoon aside and immediately pushed her chair backward.

“I’m not eating anymore! I’m full!” She had already eaten more than usual for breakfast, plus dessert. In the past, it would have been impossible for Sang Zhancheng to finish this lunch in under two hours.

It was only because she was being guarded by a demon today that Sang Zhancheng preferred to leave the table early.

“Really not eating? There’s still so much left.” Mu Jiahui knit her brows. The little pudding’s appetite seemed far too small; if her nutrition couldn’t keep up, it would be hard for her to endure a year of high-intensity studying.

“No, no, I’m full.” Sang Zhancheng shook her head like a rattle, then slipped away into her room in a flash. “I—I’m going to go do practice problems!”

“…” Mu Jiahui rubbed her temples.

It seemed the psychological shadow she left on the child this morning was too great. She repented.

It was only after Sang Zhancheng entered the study that she realized she hadn’t taken any water. Holding her empty water cup, she peeked her head out stealthily and crept into the living room.

When she saw what Mu Jiahui was doing, Sang Zhancheng’s cup dropped to the floor in shock.

Hearing the sound, Mu Jiahui looked back. “What is it?”

“You—what are you doing!” Sang Zhancheng didn’t even know which point to be surprised by first.

Mu Jiahui was actually using her spoon to eat her leftovers!

Wasn’t this an indirect kiss? The little succubus’s tail unconsciously wagged at a frequency of joy. But why eat leftovers? Sang Zhancheng’s glazed eyes were filled with confusion.

“This? We can’t waste food.” While talking, Mu Jiahui swallowed the last bite of rice. She was a bit stuffed; she’d have to exercise to burn it off before dinner.

Mu Jiahui didn’t even realize that using Sang Zhancheng’s spoon counted as an indirect kiss. They were both women, and Mu Jiahui didn’t want to wash another spoon. She felt her behavior was perfectly logical, so she couldn’t understand Sang Zhancheng’s complicated expression.

“I’ll pour the water for you. Go back and do your problems.” Mu Jiahui picked up the water cup by her feet and shooed the dazed little succubus back into the room.

Sang Zhancheng sat back in her seat, lightheaded.

How could there be someone like this in the world? Liking to eat leftovers, and preferring indirect kisses over direct ones. Her partner was truly strange.

When the water was brought in, Sang Zhancheng hurriedly started her problems, not daring to have any other thoughts.

The exams for the major subjects only had thirty-minute intervals. Mu Jiahui followed this strictly and set an alarm for Sang Zhancheng.

If she actually tried, Sang Zhancheng obviously couldn’t finish all the questions in the allotted time. But she couldn’t do most of the questions anyway, so she turned them in early every time—only to receive a big fat zero.

This was already the fourth zero Sang Zhancheng had received. Mu Jiahui’s policy of banning random guessing had a massive impact on Sang Zhancheng’s scores, making the girl—who had forgotten all her high school knowledge in a month—suffer miserably.

Six sets of minor subject papers took no more than three hours. Sang Zhancheng’s final score was 5:1—five zeros, with only Biology yielding six points based on common sense, meaning she got one multiple-choice question right.

Mu Jiahui looked at the six papers that looked roughly the same and covered her face in agony.

Sang Zhancheng also felt guilty. A month ago, she could at least score twenty-something on each paper. A month later, she could barely even understand the question prompts.

“It’s okay.” Mu Jiahui encouraged herself. “The content of your minor subjects isn’t particularly vast; it can be reviewed within a year.” She was comforting herself.

“Wuu, thank you Mumu, you’re the best~” Sang Zhancheng thought Mu Jiahui was comforting her. She sniffled, holding back tears, nearly throwing herself onto Mu Jiahui to hug and nuzzle her.

Mu Jiahui placed her hand on Sang Zhancheng’s head, her mind blank, temporarily not wanting to connect with the world.

She would not give up.

After just five minutes, Mu Jiahui came back to life and made up her mind: she must save this illiterate succubus. She loved challenging peaks and launching attacks on the impossible.

That was why, when the entire village—even her teachers—said it was impossible for her to get into secondary school, she entered high school with the highest score in the city. She then spent a summer working while previewing her studies, saved enough for tuition, and fled her hometown village.

“How do you take the three secondary subjects? The ones for Music, PE, and Art.” Mu Jiahui hadn’t seen anything related to them in the college entrance exam papers.

“There’s a unified written test before the entrance exam. The teachers give us materials to memorize beforehand; if you memorize them, you can get a full score. Specialty students have extra tests, like the 800-meter run, drawing, singing, and stuff.”

Sang Zhancheng realized her tail had popped out again and was currently battling it, trying hard to stuff it back into her body.

Looking at that restless little heart-shaped tip, Mu Jiahui had the urge to pinch it. She knew she shouldn’t touch it and held back. But she was Sang Zhancheng’s partner; if she really touched it, Sang Zhancheng would be more than happy.

“Then did you memorize them?”

“…No? Why would I? It’s so many pages; I can’t remember them.” If Sang Zhancheng had memorized them, she wouldn’t have scored only two hundred-something points.

Yes, she had a glorious zero in that secondary subject column.

Mu Jiahui pressed her hand to her forehead. “These are points given away for free! How could you…! Forget it. When does the unified exam start? You must memorize it all for me this year!”