Did the Tsundere Miss Get Slapped in the Face Again Today? - Chapter 95

Chapter 95: “Summary: You Are Both Mentally Ill.”

“How many days has it been since she went to the office?” Lin Han sat on the sofa, tablet in hand, scrolling through the latest financial news as she asked the question casually.

“You should be asking how long it’s been since she left her room,” Lin Yishu said, sitting down across from her. “Since that project ended, forget the office—she hasn’t even stepped past her bedroom door.”

Lin Han gave a non-committal “mm,” her attention still fixed on the screen.

Yishu was dissatisfied. “Sister, that’s your baby sister. We raised her. Can’t you show a little concern and put down your work for a moment? It won’t hurt to miss the news for a few minutes, will it?”

Lin Han’s cold eyes lifted, sweeping over Yishu. She set the tablet down, stood up, and headed upstairs.

Yishu hurried to follow. “Where are you going? To talk to her? Do you even know how to comfort people? If not, forget it—don’t make things worse.”

Lin Han stopped in her tracks, glanced back, and said coldly, “Stop buzzing around behind me like a mosquito.”

Yishu choked on her words, her eye twitching.

Arriving at Lin Anran’s door, Lin Han gave two sharp knocks. As expected, there was no response. Yishu shrugged and mouthed: See? She’s ignoring everyone.

Click. Lin Han simply pressed the handle and pushed the door open.

The lights were off. The curtains were drawn tight, blocking out every sliver of light; the room was pitch black. Aided by the light spilling in from the hallway, they could see a small mound under the covers of the large bed. Someone was curled up inside.

Lin Han walked in, looking at the figure on the bed. Her voice held no warmth.

“I told you from the start the two of you weren’t a match. If you’d listened to me and broken up early, you wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“It’s just a breakup. It’s over. The sky hasn’t fallen. You’re a grown adult; acting like it’s life or death over a relationship is pathetic. You’re the one who wanted to start the company, and now you’ve abandoned your post. You have no sense of responsibility…”

Yishu sucked in a breath. Before Lin Han could say anything more hurtful, she dragged her out of the room.

Lin Han brushed off her hand, frowning. “What are you doing?”

“Sister, I’ve truly had it with you. Since you don’t know how to speak kindly, just don’t go in there. I should have known better than to tell you. Fine, stay out of this. Go back to your work.”

Lin Han’s icy gaze landed on her. Yishu shrunk her neck back, feeling a twinge of fear. Lin Han let out a cold snort, turned on her heels, and walked away.

Yishu clutched her heart. She felt she was getting more and more daring in front of her eldest sister lately—but then again, despite her “boldness,” Lin Han hadn’t actually done anything to her. Thinking of this, she felt a bit smug.

The smugness lasted two seconds before she looked at the closed door and sighed. I really was born with the soul of a meddling mother. None of you can handle yourselves.

She pushed the door open gently, stepped inside, and stopped by the bed. She tugged at the blanket. “Big Sister is gone. Do you want to talk to your Second Sister?”

The person curled under the covers didn’t make a sound.

“Stop pretending. I know you’re awake and can hear me.”

After another thirty seconds of silence, the person on the bed still hadn’t moved. Left with no choice, Yishu reached out and peeled back a corner of the blanket.

Anran was curled into a ball, her forehead pressed against her knees, eyes shut tight. There was a damp patch on the pillow—she had clearly been crying all night.

“Open your eyes and look at me. You haven’t cried yourself blind, have you?” Yishu sat on the edge of the bed and nudged her shoulder.

Anran remained unmoved.

Yishu tutted. “Are you really planning to break up with her like this? Never to see each other again? Two strangers going their separate ways?”

Anran’s eyelashes trembled. Tears began to fall silently, quickly soaking into the sheets. Just a simple description of the consequences was enough to set her off again; clearly, she couldn’t bear to let go.

“Since you don’t want to break up, let’s find the reason. I don’t believe someone would suddenly dump you out of nowhere for no reason. I haven’t spent much time with Jiang Zhi, but I don’t think she’s an irrational person.”

“She is that kind of person!”

The person who had been silent and eyes-closed suddenly snapped her eyes open. They were watery and red as she shouted with a raspy voice.

Yishu clutched her chest. “Why are you shouting so loud? You scared me!”

Anran stared at her with resentment.

“Hey, don’t take your anger out on me,” Yishu smiled.

“I will take it out on you! Who told you to come in? It’s all your fault! You were the one who insisted the hand-cord didn’t match my outfit and told me to put it away!” Anran was fuming.

Yishu rubbed her forehead. “Listen, let’s be reasonable. The investor you were meeting that day values personal style above all else. If one small accessory is off, she won’t even continue the conversation.”

“I went out of my way to find that information and warn you so you could secure the deal. I don’t get any credit, and now it’s my fault?”

“Besides, there’s no way Jiang Zhi would break up with you just because you weren’t wearing a string. She’s not insane.”

Anran gritted her teeth. “She is insane.”

“Fine, keep cursing her. Let’s see if you can curse her back into your arms.”

“Who wants her back? Get out! Everyone get out!” Anran pulled the blanket over her head and curled up again, refusing to speak.

Yishu tugged the blanket. “Don’t say I never helped you. Talk to me properly now, and I’ll help you analyze the root cause of this conflict.”

Anran ignored her.

Yishu stood up. “Fine. It seems you don’t care about the reason and don’t care if it continues. I’m leaving. Cry by yourself.”

She made a show of walking out, opening the door loudly on purpose. Sure enough, she heard the rustle of the blanket being thrown back.

Yishu smirked. Little brat, you can’t hold out after all.

She turned around. Seeing this, Anran tried to hide under the blanket again. Yishu walked back and sat on the bed. “Give me your phone. Let me see what’s going on.”

Anran didn’t come out, but she slid her phone across the bed. Yishu chuckled and picked it up. “Password?”

“My birthday.”

After unlocking it, Yishu first checked the call logs from the past two months. It was clear as day: the frequency had dropped from three or four calls a day (sometimes seven or eight) to just one, or none at all. The duration had shrunk from over thirty minutes to just one or two minutes.

“Has your relationship reached the point where you have nothing to say? One-minute calls?”

The person under the blanket remained silent.

Yishu nudged the mound. “If you don’t cooperate, I’m really leaving.”

A muffled response came from the blanket: “I was busy. There were so many things with the project.”

Yishu: “And did you tell her what you were busy with?”

Anran: “I did.”

“What did you say exactly?” Yishu asked for details.

“I just said I was busy. What else was there to say?” Anran threw off the blanket, her red eyes glaring.

Yishu tapped her on the head. “You look like a monkey’s butt, stop glaring.”

“Back to the point: being busy is fine, but you have to tell people why. Just saying ‘I’m busy’ and ending it there—how could that work?”

“You had to tell her what you were doing and why. You should have told her, ‘Once I finish this project, I can buy a house and our long distance can end!’ Did you explain it that clearly?”

Anran frowned, confused. “Why say all that? I hadn’t saved enough yet and couldn’t afford the house. Why mention it? To boast? Obviously, I was waiting until I could actually afford it before telling her.”

Yishu laughed in frustration and shook her head. “Fine, put that aside. If it were just less communication, she probably wouldn’t dump you. There must be something else.”

Yishu tapped into the chat app. “Can I see your messages? I assume nothing too graphic?”

Anran pouted.

“With that attitude, I almost don’t want to help you,” Yishu said with mock disdain, though she wouldn’t actually leave. She scrolled back a month to check the logs.

At first, things were fine. Good mornings, goodnights, sharing small daily events. Except for Anran being slower to reply, nothing seemed abnormal. Until about two weeks ago, when a name began to appear with strange frequency.

Yishu looked up, narrowing her eyes. “Who is Chu Yuening? You don’t… like her, do you?”

Anran sat bolt upright. “What? How could I possibly like her?”

Under Yishu’s questioning, the story came out. Chu Yuening was a partner. At first, Anran hadn’t paid her much mind, until…

“Is ‘Raising a Cat in the Countryside’ a creator under your company?”

Hearing her wife’s ID, Anran’s ears had perked up instantly.

Chu Yuening: “I love her videos. I’m a fan. I was wondering if I could get an autograph… Sorry, does that sound unprofessional?”

Because of that sentence, Anran had paid attention to Chu Yuening. But the only reason was that Chu Yuening was Jiang Zhi’s fan.

After that, Anran frequently mentioned Chu Yuening in chats, describing how excellent she was and casually mentioning to Jiang Zhi, “She’s your fan.”

“And what was your goal in doing that?” Yishu asked.

“It’s obvious! Jiang Yi is always putting herself down, she has no confidence. I wanted to tell her, ‘Look, so many excellent people like you, they’re your fans! You’re amazing, everyone loves you.’ I wanted her to stop being insecure. She’s better than everyone.”

Yishu fell into a long, stunned silence.

“It’s one thing for your brain to work in such a weird way,” Yishu finally said. “But she had to listen to you praise someone else’s excellence every day, yet she didn’t scold you and kept chatting with you patiently? I’ve figured it out. You’re mentally ill, and she’s mentally ill. You’re a perfect match of sickness.”

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