An Adoptive Older Sister Cannot Become a Wife - Chapter 6

Qi Shu still remembered everything about the first time Qi Nianshu slept beside her.

It was a stormy day at the turn of spring and summer. Without warning, the sky turned as dark as spilled ink, and muffled thunder rolled through the thick clouds.

That day, Qi Shu had stayed late at school to seek extra tutoring for an important upcoming competition. Her parents were working overtime, leaving Qi Nianshu home alone. Back then, Nianshu was only in the fifth grade; she wasn’t like she was now—bold enough to cling to Qi Shu and act spoiled.

In those days, she was timid and shy, hardly daring to speak to strangers. After school, she would always carry her small backpack, take the school bus home alone, and sit quietly in the living room doing her homework while waiting for Qi Shu to return for dinner.

Remembering the laundry hanging on the balcony, Qi Shu called Nianshu’s child-safety watch, intending to ask her to bring the clothes inside. But Nianshu didn’t pick up. There was nothing but the endless, hollow drone of the busy signal.

At twelve years old, Qi Shu was far from the calm person she was today. The moment she thought about her own past experience of being lost, a sharp, suffocating panic gripped her heart.

Frantic, she grabbed her teacher’s sleeve and pleaded for a ride home, not even stopping to pack her schoolbag. All the way back, she imagined the most horrific scenarios—especially the possibility of finding an empty house.

She was on the verge of calling the police, but the teacher who had driven her home urged her to stay calm and try calling one more time.

When the familiar ringtone finally echoed from inside her own bedroom, Qi Shu stood frozen, completely dazed. She eventually found Qi Nianshu curled into a tight ball inside the closed wardrobe.

Nianshu was pressed against the very back of the closet, her spine against the cold wooden panel, clutching her faded white rabbit plushie with a death grip. Her small face was buried in the rabbit’s fuzzy ears, and her shoulders were shaking uncontrollably.

Her hair was a mess, her bangs damp with cold sweat and plastered to her forehead. Long eyelashes were still heavy with unshed tears, and her whole body jerked with rhythmic tremors.

When she heard the wardrobe door creak open, she snapped her head up. Those eyes, which usually darted away from contact, were now overflowing with terror and grievance. The moment she realized it was Qi Shu, the tears spilled over instantly. She didn’t dare cry out loud; she just bit her lip and let out thin, soft whimpers.

This tiny version of Qi Nianshu, huddled in the closet, looked utterly pathetic and helpless.

“Sister…” her voice was thick with congestion and hoarse from fear. She seemed to have lost the strength even to reach out; she could only stare at Qi Shu with eyes full of absolute, desperate reliance.

Qi Shu found it hard to describe how she felt in that moment. She didn’t even ask why Nianshu hadn’t answered the phone. Instead, she reached out with extreme care and pulled the girl out of the wardrobe.

Like a drowning person grabbing a lifeline, Nianshu lunged into her arms the second she cleared the closet, her arms locking tightly around Qi Shu’s neck. Every time thunder crashed outside, Nianshu’s body gave a violent flinch.

“Sister… why did you just get back? It was thundering… I thought you didn’t want me anymore…” Her words were broken, mangled by sobs. She looked exactly like a puppy that had been abandoned all over again.

In that moment, Qi Shu learned how to comfort someone by instinct. She raised her hand and began awkwardly patting Nianshu’s back, over and over, her movements as gentle as if she were soothing a piece of fragile treasure.

“I didn’t ‘not want’ you,” Qi Shu’s voice was very low, blending with the damp softness unique to rainy nights.

The teacher standing behind them let out a sigh of relief, handed over a tissue, and whispered, “The little one is just scared of the thunder. Stay with her.”

Qi Shu nodded, her composure returning instantly. “Thank you for the help,” she said calmly, showing no trace of her previous frantic state.

Once the teacher left, Nianshu finally pulled her face out of Qi Shu’s embrace. She apologized between hiccups, “I’m sorry… for going into your room and making a mess of your closet.”

Qi Shu wiped away her tears and told her it was okay, several times.

Nianshu eventually stopped crying, but she became exceptionally clingy, following Qi Shu’s every step like a shadow. When it came time for bed, the rain hadn’t stopped, and distant rumbles of thunder still lingered.

Holding her plushie, Nianshu stood hesitantly at the bedroom door, watching Qi Shu with wide, pleading eyes, yet saying nothing.

Qi Shu told herself it was only because the sound of Nianshu’s crying was annoying. Then, she let Nianshu into her room.

From that night on, the awkward barrier between them was washed away by the rain. And later… other secret, unspoken feelings began to sprout.

Back in the present, Qi Nianshu—completely oblivious to her sister’s hidden thoughts—lay beside her and asked with an innocent face, “With me right next to you, will you be unable to sleep?”

Qi Shu shifted her gaze away. She reached out to the nightstand, took a sip of water to steady herself, and replied calmly, “No.”

Hearing the denial, Nianshu’s eyes curved into happy crescents. “Me too. Whenever sister is beside me, I always fall asleep so fast.”

Yes, Qi Shu thought privately, you fall asleep fast every time, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

Since she couldn’t focus on her book anyway, Qi Shu tucked the bookmark into the pages, set it aside, and turned off the light.

But Nianshu was stubbornly oblivious tonight. She didn’t want to let the moment go so easily. As they grew older, for some reason, Qi Shu had become less willing to share a bed. Since she had finally compromised tonight, Nianshu wanted to linger in this closeness.

With the lights out, the room was bathed only in the faint glow of moonlight filtering through the gaps in the curtains, casting a pale stripe across the floor.

Nianshu turned on her side to face Qi Shu, whispering about recent events at school. Qi Shu listened quietly, offering a brief reply every now and then. Eventually, the conversation drifted back to the events of the day.

The night always seems to grant people extra courage. Sheltered by the darkness where Qi Shu couldn’t see her expression, Nianshu asked tentatively, “Sister… do you want to fall in love?”

Qi Shu thought about Nianshu’s distracted behavior during class, her self-reflection essay, and the hesitant questions she’d been asking all evening.

After a moment of silence, Qi Shu spoke her name. “Nian Nian.”

She felt Nianshu’s body, pressed against her arm, go instantly rigid.

“Wh… what is it?” Nianshu stammered. Even though it was an affectionate nickname, her heart was hammering with anxiety. She had regretted the question the moment it left her mouth. She figured her messy thoughts today were just a side effect of her upcoming period making her act strange.

“Did you see something today?”

In the dark, Qi Shu’s voice was low but incredibly clear. It was phrased as a question, but the tone was an absolute certainty.

Nianshu blinked, her first instinct being to deny it. But she had already lied once today, and she didn’t want to keep deceiving her sister. She gave a soft “mm-hmm” in admission before rushing to add, “I just… I accidentally saw that boy giving you water.”

She tried to cover her tracks with a logical excuse. “I was just… I was worried that if you started dating early, it would affect your studies.”

Qi Shu didn’t speak for a long time. The longer the silence stretched, the more panicked Nianshu became. She tried to look up at Qi Shu, but in the hazy moonlight, she could only make out the silhouette of her profile; her expression remained unreadable.

Just as Nianshu began to think she had fallen asleep, Qi Shu finally spoke.

“The person you saw, I don’t know him.”

That simple sentence acted like a weight being lifted; Nianshu’s heart, which had been drifting all afternoon, finally settled back into her chest.

But then, she heard Qi Shu add:

“But if it were me, falling in love wouldn’t affect my studies.”

“Besides, I’m already an adult. You can’t call it ‘dating early’ anymore.”

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