An Adoptive Older Sister Cannot Become a Wife - Chapter 20

The mutton rice noodle shop was bustling during the lunch rush. Even from a distance, Qi Nianshu could smell the rich, heavy aroma of mutton bone broth wafting through the air.

She took a deep breath, her eyes lighting up instantly. “That chili oil smells incredible!”

The little incident from earlier was already a distant memory.

“The little lady sure knows her stuff! Our chili oil is a secret family recipe; you won’t find it anywhere else!”

Behind the serving counter, the owner was nimbly blanching noodles. Hearing Nianshu, she looked up with a bright, welcoming smile, her greeting loud and hearty in the local dialect.

She didn’t stop working for a second. She drained the blanched rice noodles, flipped them into a thick porcelain bowl with practiced ease, and ladled over a scoop of scalding bone broth. The savory scent intensified instantly. Nianshu stared, mesmerized.

The owner flicked her chin toward the two of them. “What’ll it be, girls? Mutton noodles or offal? Want a fried egg with that?”

Nianshu looked up at the menu, suddenly torn. It wasn’t often she got to come here; she honestly wanted to try a bit of everything.

Qi Shu, intimately familiar with that look of indecision, stepped in to order. “We’ll take one mutton and one offal, please. We’ll share. Also, two soft-boiled eggs on the side. Thank you.”

“Coming right up!” the owner chirped, tossing a handful of noodles into the pot.

Nianshu beamed and leaned into Qi Shu, her voice full of pride. “Sister, you really do know me best!”

It had been this way for as long as she could remember: Nianshu had a massive appetite for variety but a very small stomach. Her favorite thing was dragging Qi Shu along so she could sample more dishes, knowing full well that whatever she couldn’t finish would inevitably end up in Qi Shu’s bowl.

Despite the crowd, the service was fast. Before long, two steaming bowls of noodles and a plate of eggs were placed before them.

The heavy porcelain bowls radiated heat. The white rice noodles were submerged in a milky-white broth, topped with evenly sliced mutton and offal, and garnished with a generous handful of scallions and cilantro. The aroma was intoxicating.

The owner pointed to the condiment caddy. “Help yourselves to the chili. Eat as much as you like.”

“Thank you, Auntie!” Nianshu chirped, already reaching for the chili jar. She gave a playful, mischievous smirk. “Today… I’m going for a massive spoonful!”

Qi Shu knew she’d been craving this for a long time, so she didn’t bother stopping her. She only remarked, “Don’t come crying to me when it’s too spicy to breathe.”

Nianshu huffed. “Don’t underestimate me.”

Qi Shu just offered a non-committal hum.

Despite her bravado, Nianshu showed some restraint and didn’t actually add a full heap. She had enough self-awareness to know that if she overdid it, she’d be the one suffering later.

The chili, fried in mutton fat, slowly dissolved into the hot soup, turning the broth an even more enticing red. Nianshu lifted a forkful of noodles, coated in the rich broth and spice. They were smooth and springy, disappearing into her mouth with a satisfied slurp.

Soon, her cheeks were flushed and beads of sweat dotted her forehead, but she refused to slow down. “So good…” she mumbled around a mouthful. “Sister, eat! It’s seriously amazing!”

Qi Shu shook her head fondly. She pulled out a tissue to dab the sweat from Nianshu’s brow and transferred the pieces of mutton intestine, Nianshu’s favorite, from her own bowl. “Eat slowly. No one’s going to steal it from you.”

Nianshu nodded, still slurping. “Thanks, Sis.”

The bowls were soon empty. Nianshu patted her rounded belly. “I’m so stuffed.”

Qi Shu set down her chopsticks and scanned the QR code to pay. As they headed for the exit, the owner suddenly called out, “Wait a second, girls!”

She grabbed two packs of tissues from the counter and hurried over. “A free pack for everyone who eats here.”

Nianshu reflexively took them with a smile and a “Thank you, Auntie,” about to tuck them into her bag. But then, her eyes caught the print on the packaging.

It was a photo of a young girl, her features a bit blurred. Below, in bold red letters, were the words: BABY COME HOME. Beside the photo were her name, birth date, the clothes she was wearing when she went missing, and a contact number.

Nianshu’s smile froze. She looked up at the owner’s face and noticed a faint resemblance to the girl in the photo.

Noticing the look, the owner smiled, though a trace of bitterness flickered in her eyes. “That’s my girl. If you ever see anyone who looks like her, please… please let me know. Thank you.”

Nianshu instinctively looked at Qi Shu, who was standing silently beside her. A sudden wave of coldness hit her heart, and she reached out to squeeze Qi Shu’s hand.

Sensing the movement, Qi Shu looked down and gently squeezed back in reassurance. She looked at the owner and said, “We’ll keep an eye out. We’ll contact you if we hear anything.”

“Thank you! Bless you both,” the woman said gratefully.

The walk back was silent. Nianshu watched Qi Shu’s calm expression, but her heart ached with a dull, persistent sting.

She remembered the first time she met Qi Shu.

Qi Shu had just been brought back. She was nine years old—quiet, withdrawn, and even thinner than Nianshu, who had grown up in an orphanage. There was a deep-seated coldness and vigilance in her eyes, a wall built against the entire world.

When she first returned, she spent all day locked in her room, only coming out for meals. Even with her biological parents, she resisted any form of physical contact.

And then there was Nianshu a “sister” who had appeared out of nowhere and taken her place. A complete stranger.

Qi Shu had lived like a deserted island.

Back then, Nianshu didn’t understand. She just thought her new sister didn’t like her. It wasn’t until later, when she accompanied her foster parents to the police station for paperwork, that she overheard the officers talking.

During the three years Qi Shu was missing, she had been sold by traffickers to a remote mountain region. She had been mistreated.

At that age, Nianshu didn’t fully grasp the concept of human trafficking, but she knew what it felt like to be bullied, and it hurt. She had seen old photos of Qi Shu; though she didn’t smile much even then, you could tell she had been happy.

From then on, Nianshu started running to Qi Shu’s door every day. She would leave her favorite candies and her most prized rabbit plushie at the threshold. Sometimes she would whisper to the person behind the door, never getting a response, but never giving up.

Qi Shu never replied and never touched the things left for her. But Nianshu could feel that the person behind the door was listening.

Once, Nianshu had offhandedly mentioned she wanted osmanthus cake from the alleyway. The next morning, a beautifully wrapped box of it was sitting by her pillow.

For a long time, their communication was almost non-existent. Yet Nianshu never forgot that even in that broken state, it was Qi Shu who had spoken up to let her stay in the family.

That was why, during thunderstorms, Nianshu’s first instinct was to crawl toward the place she felt safest. Back then, it was Qi Shu who had found her hiding in the wardrobe, pulling her out and holding her gently.

Qi Shu was the one who gave her the warmest bed and the most selfless love.

“Because there’s a little idiot at home who’s always getting sick.”

Nianshu suddenly remembered Qi Shu’s reason for choosing medical school. It was because of her.

Nianshu stopped in her tracks beneath the dappled shade of the trees and turned to face her sister.

Meeting Qi Shu’s confused gaze, Nianshu didn’t look away. She stared deep into her eyes and said, one word at a time:

“Sister.  don’t push me away later, okay?”

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