I'm a Professional at Being a Scumbag [Quick Wear] - Chapter 6

Le Yi had sobered up, but not entirely.

Before her mind could fully process the breathtaking sight before her, her body had already made its choice.

The dim light from the doorway cast an ethereal glow on Chu Qiao’s porcelain skin, creating a subtle, mesmerizing effect.

Blindingly white.

As if her skin had been automatically smoothed and perfected.

Le Yi’s throat tightened. She opened her mouth and bit down.

Chu Qiao let out a soft moan, the sound like tiny kitten paws scratching at Le Yi’s heart.

It didn’t hurt, but it was unbearably tantalizing.

In that instant, Le Yi’s rationality vanished completely.

Having tasted such exquisite pleasure, her craving intensified. And when it was offered right to her lips, how could she possibly resist?

Le Yi’s head swam. She didn’t know what she was doing. The corners of Chu Qiao’s eyes flushed crimson as she clutched Le Yi’s head.

“Sister…”

Chu Qiao’s voice was soft and delicate, especially the lingering notes at the end, like a kitten’s purr—utterly captivating.

Le Yi pressed her teeth harder, relishing the even more coquettish sound that followed. Her twisted sense of humor found immense satisfaction.

She had never realized how wicked she could be. Now she knew.

Chu Qiao couldn’t bear the suspended, half-fulfilled sensation. She gently shook Le Yi’s shoulder.

“Sister~”

“Hmm? What is it?” Le Yi asked, looking up.

Le Yi’s cheeks flushed pink from the wine as she gazed at Chu Qiao with a half-understanding look.

Chu Qiao felt teased, yet her heart raced uncontrollably.

Her entire body burned, her thin skin hypersensitive, as if even the slightest touch of air could leave a mark.

Pleased by her silence, Le Yi repeated her question.

“What’s wrong?”

Chu Qiao couldn’t possibly admit she was annoyed by Le Yi’s lingering. With a soft huff, she pulled Le Yi into her arms.

Le Yi was enveloped in Chu Qiao’s embrace, her nostrils filled with Chu Qiao’s scent, stirring her senses even more.

The embrace felt soft and weightless, like sinking into cotton, making her want to linger there forever.

After savoring the moment, a plum blossom bloomed on the snow-white mounds, its petals crimson and delicate.

Melting snow clung to the branches, its glistening droplets trembling precariously, sparking endless fantasies.

Chu Qiao leaned against the shoe cabinet for a long time, her back growing cold. Le Yi reached down, lifted her into her arms, and carried her straight to the sofa.

Seeing Le Yi’s unusual enthusiasm today, Chu Qiao worried she might still be drunk. She cautiously asked, “Sister, should I make you some hangover soup?”

Le Yi’s foot slipped, nearly dropping Chu Qiao.

Yesterday, Le Yi had asked; today, it was Chu Qiao’s turn. The two of them seemed to be taking turns making hangover soup for each other.

Anyone who didn’t know better might think they were a pair of alcoholics.

Le Yi glanced at the kitchen and an idea struck her.

“I do feel a bit dizzy. Could you please make the hangover soup for me, Qiaoqiao?”

Chu Qiao had initially only wanted to confirm whether her sister had feelings for someone else. Now that she knew Le Yi didn’t, she naturally prioritized her sister’s well-being above all else. Other matters could wait.

“Then put me down. I… at least need to get dressed properly.”

Chu Qiao looked down and realized she was only wearing a bra strap over one arm, her skin otherwise exposed to the air.

How am I supposed to make hangover soup like this?

Le Yi didn’t stop walking, her gaze fixed on the kitchen. “No need to rush. I’ll carry you over.”

It wasn’t until they were in the kitchen that Chu Qiao understood what was happening.

Le Yi set her down in front of the stove, thoughtfully tied an apron around her waist, and then tilted her chin.

“Start cooking.”

Even though Chu Qiao and Le Yi had long been open with each other, this situation still felt mortifying.

Wearing only an apron was worse than wearing nothing at all.

Le Yi’s gaze lingered on Chu Qiao’s butterfly bones as she hooked her hand around the apron ties at her waist, pulling her into her embrace.

Leaning close to her ear, she whispered, “Don’t know how? Should I teach you, Sister?”

Chu Qiao’s lips trembled, her voice barely audible. “I know how.”

“Then get started. If you keep dawdling, my hangover will be gone.”

As Le Yi spoke, she reached out to turn on the stove for Chu Qiao.

…The touch sent a mild sting through Chu Qiao, but it was quickly followed by a tingling numbness.

Chu Qiao’s legs went weak, and she nearly collapsed to the floor. Le Yi caught her around the waist just in time.

Pressed tightly against each other, Le Yi noticed Chu Qiao’s fluttering eyelashes, the tips of her ears flushed crimson, and the slender, peach-blossom-like curve of her own neck.

Le Yi rested her chin on Chu Qiao’s shoulder, her lips brushing against her ear as she spoke, creating an intimate, ear-to-temple embrace.

Chu Qiao braced herself against the stove, tears blurring her vision in her beautiful, phoenix-shaped eyes.

“If you don’t start cooking soon, the pot will burn,” Le Yi murmured softly, yet the words made Chu Qiao flinch. Chu Qiao glanced back at her, her eyes pleading, as if hiding dozens of tiny hooks within their depths, making them irresistibly alluring.

Le Yi’s heart tightened, her gaze darkening.

Chu Qiao’s voice was soft and tremulous, almost tearful, but Le Yi felt no pity for her.

Chu Qiao slumped weakly against the stove, the nape of her neck, as pale as a lotus root, flushed even redder, her shoulders trembling slightly.

Le Yi’s heart pounded, as if her intoxication had deepened.

Tears welled in the corners of Chu Qiao’s eyes as she bit down on her lower lip. Her flushed skin, contrasted against the dark stove, resembled a ripe, juicy peach.

Le Yi quickly tasted the sweetness, but she wasn’t satisfied.

“Looks like you won’t be getting any hangover soup tonight.”

She rose and pressed herself against Chu Qiao’s back, tilting her chin up for a kiss.

Chu Qiao closed her eyes, tears escaping and rolling down her cheeks to land on her breasts, glistening under the lamplight.

The kiss was fervent yet lingering, tender yet possessive. Chu Qiao’s mind swam, and she vaguely wondered, I didn’t taste any tears today, so why does my mouth still taste salty and bitter?

But the question didn’t linger. Soon, her mind emptied, unable to grasp anything else.

Even after the kiss ended, that lingering taste lingered between their lips.

Le Yi released Chu Qiao and asked, “Your own flavor—does it taste good?”

Chu Qiao froze for a few seconds before her mind exploded with realization.

So that wasn’t the taste of tears!

Le Yi watched Chu Qiao’s ears flush crimson, as if about to bleed, and a smirk tugged at her lips.

“Qiaoqiao.”

The voice was utterly ordinary, yet it seemed to carry a bewitching quality, burrowing straight into Chu Qiao’s heart.

Chu Qiao leaned closer. “What is it, Sister?”

Le Yi encircled her in her arms, her voice as soft as mist. “It’s about to burn.”

Chu Qiao whirled around. The soup in the pot was indeed nearly boiled dry.

She frantically turned off the heat and reached for a bowl in the cabinet, her bottom pressing against Le Yi’s hips—practically an invitation.

Seeing such “initiative,” how could Le Yi possibly resist?

Just as Chu Qiao grasped the bowl, her vision blurred. The bowl slipped from her hand, crashing to the floor with a sharp clang.

“……”

Le Yi heard her faint, muffled voice—as if pleading, “Sister, no”—but it was too indistinct to acknowledge.

After all, she couldn’t possibly stop now.

She would overcome any obstacle herself. How could she possibly withdraw?

The bowl of hangover soup cooled from hot to cold as the sisters remained in the kitchen, neither remembering its existence.

Chu Qiao sat on the countertop, repeatedly sliding down from exhaustion, only to be caught by Le Yi in increasingly unconventional ways.

Le Yi panted, teasing, “Easy there, you’re going to flatten my nose.”

Chu Qiao had completely lost her ability to think, lost in an endless void. Hearing Le Yi’s words, she stared blankly, her eyes taking a long moment to focus.

Le Yi, pleased with her dazed state, grew even more diligent.

Chu Qiao collapsed completely into Le Yi’s arms, only regaining her senses after a long while. She mumbled, “The hangover soup’s cold.”

Le Yi, charmed by her reaction, freed one hand to pour the soup.

After all, it was made under such difficult circumstances. I can’t let the child’s efforts go to waste.

Thinking it was over, Chu Qiao clung to Le Yi, refusing to let go. Le Yi had no choice but to carry her with one arm while holding the soup in the other as they left the kitchen.

The hangover soup had been simmering too long, turning dark and unappetizing.

Chu Qiao, disappointed, said, “Don’t drink it.”

Le Yi didn’t mind and downed it in one gulp. The taste was indescribable, but it was undeniably effective at sobering her up, leaving her feeling refreshed.

Chu Qiao asked anxiously, “Was it really that bad?”

Le Yi leaned closer. “Why don’t you try it yourself?”

Their lips met, and Chu Qiao choked on the strange taste in her mouth.

What a peculiar flavor.

I really can’t do anything right.

Does Sister think I’m useless?

Chu Qiao hugged Le Yi tightly and leaned in for a kiss.

Her technique was still clumsy, but much improved from before, especially her smooth, nimble tongue, which darted around like a little snake, stirring Le Yi’s heart into a frenzy.

The kiss lasted a long time, with Le Yi completely on the defensive. Yet in other ways, she held all the power.

A chill ran down Chu Qiao’s back as the light from the overhead chandelier pierced her closed eyelids.

Le Yi sucked at her neck, layering fresh marks over the fading bruises, and gently nipped at her collarbone…

The tender flesh of her breasts was repeatedly teased, threatening to break the skin. Le Yi soothed them with gentle kisses, sending shivers through Chu Qiao.

Her flawless, porcelain-white body resembled a piece of exquisite jade, stirring in Le Yi a primal urge to defile its perfection.

The delicate petals nestled between her thighs were another source of fascination, their hidden depths radiating a bewitching fragrance that made Le Yi lose herself.

Chu Qiao no longer had the strength to speak, gasping like a stranded fish, her mouth opening and closing. Drowning in overwhelming pleasure, she desperately wished for this “torture” to end quickly.

Chu Qiao’s repeated out-of-body experiences had instilled in her a deep-seated fear of this sensation.

Why does Sister make me feel so happy so easily?

Does she truly understand me inside and out?

But if that’s the case, I’m completely under her control.

Then again, even if that weren’t true, Chu Qiao knew she stood no chance against her sister. All she could do was wag her tail and beg for scraps of affection.

A bitter ache filled her chest, yet her body responded instinctively.

The conflicting emotions intertwined like a flicker of light in the darkness.

Though a sliver of hope remained, it was overshadowed by despair.

Le Yi sensed Chu Qiao’s distraction and grew displeased.

“What are you thinking about?”

To be distracted at a time like this… It seems I haven’t been working hard enough.

Chu Qiao reached out and pulled Le Yi into her arms, checking her temperature.

“Sister, don’t leave me.”

Knowing Chu Qiao’s insecurity, Le Yi soothed her gently. “What nonsense are you thinking? We’re sisters. How could I ever leave you?”

Chu Qiao pressed, “Then will we be together forever?”

Le Yi fell silent.

The word “forever” felt too ethereal, too uncertain. Who could predict what the future held?

She refused to lie to Chu Qiao.

Chu Qiao grew anxious, pleading, “Sister, answer me! Tell me you’ll stay by my side forever!”

Le Yi couldn’t bring herself to say it, and instead pressed her lips against Chu Qiao’s.

Chu Qiao’s eyes stung, tears flowing into her mouth, tasting more bitter than ever before.

It didn’t have to be this way, she thought. But Sister won’t even lie to me.

This is what true despair feels like.

Their thoughts diverging, the kiss didn’t last long.

Le Yi carried Chu Qiao to the bath, where Chu Qiao clung to her like a koala, as if she might vanish at any moment.

“Qiaoqiao, loosen your grip a little. Let me check you.”

Chu Qiao’s breasts, which Le Yi called “Snowballs,” seemed overused and possibly bruised, needing ointment.

Chu Qiao buried her face in Le Yi’s neck, shaking her head vigorously.

“No.”

Le Yi sighed and gave up.

Chu Qiao nestled in Le Yi’s arms, clutching her waist tightly, her anxiety reaching its peak.

Le Yi suddenly realized that since their lovemaking had ended, Chu Qiao hadn’t made eye contact with her.

She’s deliberately avoiding my gaze.

“Qiaoqiao, lift your head and let me see you.”

Chu Qiao buried her face deeper, curling up completely in Le Yi’s embrace.

This was an unmistakable refusal. Le Yi lowered her voice, coaxing gently, “Let Sister take a look, okay?”

Chu Qiao refused to lift her head, pressing her hands against Le Yi’s chest like a kitten retracting its claws.

Moments later, Le Yi felt a dampness spreading across her chest.

A slight alarm flickered in Le Yi’s heart. Was Chu Qiao crying?