An Adoptive Older Sister Cannot Become a Wife - Chapter 4

Qi Shu was, without a doubt, the best cook in the entire world.

The aroma of tomato and egg noodles filled the living room. Beads of condensation clung to the rim of the white porcelain bowl, where the noodles swam in a rich, red broth, topped with two large pieces of golden, fluffy fried egg and a vibrant sprinkle of spring onions. Nianshu’s eyes practically glazed over at the sight.

She snatched the chopsticks from Qi Shu’s hand, unable to wait a second longer, and went to shove a massive mouthful of noodles into her mouth.

Qi Shu didn’t even have time to warn her.

Predictably, the scalding heat hit Nianshu’s tongue. Her face crumpled instantly, and she let out a series of pained, sharp little gasps.

“What’s the rush?” Qi Shu sighed helplessly. She reached out to steady Nianshu’s retreating shoulder with one hand, while the other picked up a bottle of water from the table. She twisted the cap off and held it to Nianshu’s lips. “Drink some water.”

Nianshu leaned in obediently, taking a few gulps from Qi Shu’s hand. As the cool water slid over her tongue, the burning sensation finally began to ebb.

She let out a long, dramatic breath, looking utterly mournful. “But I’m just so hungry.”

Qi Shu got up, went to the kitchen for a clean bowl, and divided the noodles into two portions. Her movements were natural and practiced. “Eat slowly. No one’s going to steal it from you.”

Nianshu nodded like a good girl, took her portion, and blew on it carefully before finally taking a proper bite.

The sweet and sour broth coated the springy noodles perfectly, and the egg was so soft it practically melted on her tongue. As the warmth travelled down to her stomach, Nianshu couldn’t help but squint her eyes in delight, looking for all the world like a kitten that had just been given its favourite treat.

“Sister’s noodles are the best,” she mumbled through a mouthful, her voice thick with genuine adoration.

Qi Shu watched her. Nianshu’s cheeks were puffed out as she chewed, reminding Qi Shu of the hamsters her classmates used to keep secretly in the biology lab.

Her lips twitched into a tiny smile. “Do you like them that much?”

Nianshu nodded frantically.

Seeing her so happy, Qi Shu shook her head softly before picking up her own chopsticks to eat in her usual, composed manner.

It wasn’t long before Nianshu’s bowl was empty. She pushed it aside, propped her elbows on the table, and rested her face in her hands, staring intently at Qi Shu while she finished.

Unlike Nianshu’s ravenous style, Qi Shu ate slowly and gracefully. Her lowered lashes veiled her eyes, making it impossible to tell what she was thinking. Between bites, Nianshu caught glimpses of her sister’s lips, slightly slick from the broth.

Qi Shu was stunningly beautiful, with perfectly shaped lips that were usually pressed together in a line of cool detachment. It often gave her an unapproachable, slightly indifferent air. But now, with that faint, watery sheen on them, they looked soft—almost honeyed.

Nianshu’s gaze lingered on Qi Shu’s lips, and she suddenly felt a wave of thirst. She swallowed instinctively.

“Why are you staring at me?”

Qi Shu’s voice broke the silence.

Caught like a thief in the night, Nianshu’s hair practically stood on end. Her face flushed a deep crimson, and she began to stammer, “I—I—I—I just thought your food looked better than mine.”

Qi Shu shot her a puzzled look. “Do you even listen to the things you say?”

Nianshu took a quick, distracting gulp of water to banish the strange, intrusive thoughts from her head. She looked up at Qi Shu with an innocent smile, successfully “playing cute” to get out of trouble.

Once Qi Shu finished, she wiped her mouth with a tissue and moved to clear the table, but Nianshu stopped her.

Her eyes were bright with eagerness. “Sister, you worked hard cooking. I’ll tidy up.”

“…Fine then.”

It was only a matter of putting things in the dishwasher and taking them out again, anyway.

Nianshu moved quickly. Once the kitchen was sorted, she grabbed the self-reflection she hadn’t finished during self-study and gave Qi Shu’s bedroom door a light tap.

“Come in.”

Qi Shu’s voice was clear and calm through the wood.

Nianshu opened the door to find Qi Shu seated at her desk, an exam paper spread out before her. She was bent over a sheet of rough paper, working through a calculation. She didn’t look up when Nianshu entered, simply asking, “What is it?”

Nianshu shuffled over to her side and peeked at the paper. It was covered in dense formulas and complex steps; Nianshu looked away after a single glance. She pulled over a spare chair and sat down obediently next to her sister, offering a small smile. “I want to do my homework with you.”

Without looking up, Qi Shu nudged her paper to the side, habitually clearing a space for Nianshu.

Nianshu was a bit of a dawdler when it came to schoolwork; she’d often drag things out until midnight. But she’d found that when she sat next to Qi Shu, she subconsciously didn’t dare to slack off. Besides, if she hit a wall, she had a built-in tutor. Over the years, doing homework in Qi Shu’s room had become a cherished habit.

Nianshu gave a cheeky grin and pulled out her half-finished self-reflection.

With a full stomach and a lighter mood, the world seemed a much friendlier place. She no longer felt that writing the reflection was a source of shame. I’m Qi Shu’s sister; watching my sister during PE is the most natural thing in the world, she told herself.

She stole a glance at Qi Shu. Her sister was still focused, her expression serious as she worked through the problems. Nianshu looked down and used her pen to cross out the words “especially shouldn’t have” from her draft.

As the ink covered the words, she felt a wave of relief. A small smile played on her lips. She began to write in earnest, occasionally biting the end of her pen while she searched for a word, stealing glances at Qi Shu all the while.

Qi Shu’s head remained bowed. The glow of the desk lamp fell over her hair, giving it a soft, radiant sheen. Is she stuck on a difficult problem? Nianshu wondered, before shaking her head. No, Sister is brilliant. There isn’t a problem she can’t solve.

Four hundred words wasn’t a tall order, especially with Qi Shu right there. Nianshu filled the page with flowery language, expressing her deep “anguish” over her lack of focus in class and ending with a light-hearted promise never to do it again. She omitted any mention of the fact that she’d blurted out Qi Shu’s name when asked a question.

Once finished, she held up her “masterpiece” with a look of pure self-admiration. She turned to show Qi Shu, only to find that her sister had finished her own work some time ago. Qi Shu was leaning back in her chair, arms folded, watching her with an unreadable expression.

Nianshu blinked and immediately offered up the paper with both hands, her bravado vanishing. “All done.”

Qi Shu took the paper and scanned the text. Nianshu’s heart did a nervous little dance, terrified that her sister wouldn’t be satisfied.

Qi Shu knew Nianshu far too well. She could see right through the flowery prose to the underlying stubbornness: I know I was wrong, but I’m not changing.

“Fine. That’ll do.”

She handed the paper back, and Nianshu let out a very audible sigh of relief.

“Whoop!” Nianshu stood up and stretched. “Long live Sister!”

As she pushed her chair back, she remembered something and looked at Qi Shu. “When are Mum and Dad coming back?”

Qi Shu gave her phone a little shake; the screen was open to a chat with their father. “They aren’t coming back tonight.”

“Oh,” Nianshu said. A spark of excitement she couldn’t quite hide flickered in her eyes. She asked tentatively, “In that case… can I sleep in your room tonight?”

Qi Shu began packing her papers into her bag, not looking up. “Go have a shower first.”

It was a silent “yes.”

Nianshu’s face lit up. She grabbed her self-reflection and practically bolted from the room before Qi Shu could change her mind. Hearing the door click shut, Qi Shu finally stopped what she was doing. Listening to the frantic clattering coming from the hallway, she let out a sigh so quiet it was almost a whisper.

In the bathroom, a cheerful pop song played from her phone. The hot water drummed against the tiles, creating a thick shroud of steam. Nianshu hummed a tuneless little melody as she squeezed out some shower gel and took a sniff.

It was the same scent Qi Shu had.

Whenever they cycled to school, Nianshu would spend most of the journey pressed against Qi Shu’s back, greedily catching the scent of her skin. She often wondered if it was just her imagination—they used the exact same shower gel, yet she was convinced Qi Shu had a unique fragrance of her own. It was crisp, yet gentle. It made her feel safe.

The thought of sleeping in the same bed as Qi Shu made her heart skip with joy. It was strange; when she was little at the orphanage, all she’d ever wanted was a room of her own. But now that she had one, she felt like the house had far too many rooms. Qi Shu rarely slept with her now that they were older; being allowed into her sister’s bed felt like a rare, precious gift.

Nianshu finished her shower quickly, dried herself off, and reached habitually for the towel rack, only to find it empty.

She blinked, the realisation slowly dawning on her. She’d been so excited that she’d completely forgotten to bring a change of clothes into the bathroom.

At least she had her phone.

She opened WeChat, tapped the pinned conversation for “Sister,” and gave the profile a “nudge.”

“What is it?”

The reply was almost instant.

Nianshu bit her lip awkwardly and typed: Sister, I forgot my pyjamas.

She hesitated for a few seconds before adding: And my knickers.

Got it.

Support An Adoptive Older Sister Cannot Become a Wife