She Gives Too Much (GL) - Chapter 16

After the National Day holiday, Chen Xi became noticeably busier.

“Tell me, you and Yan Tuo are both so talented. How haven’t you received even a single job offer?” Mentor Chen Ying grumbled, clearly frustrated. “There was supposed to be an early internship opportunity, but now it looks like you’ll have to wait until graduation.”

Chen Xi and Yan Tuo exchanged guilty glances, standing before the mentor’s desk and enduring her scolding.

In truth, they hadn’t received zero offers. On the contrary, many senior students who had visited earlier had privately contacted them, asking if they were interested in interning early.

Chen Xi, dreaming of becoming a major star, and Yan Tuo, planning to stay at the university, had politely declined.

They hadn’t dared tell their mentor about this.

They thought the matter had blown over, but little did they know, the reckoning was yet to come.

“This isn’t right,” Chen Ying insisted, her voice tight with indignation. “My two students are so talented. What right do they have to turn them down?”

Chen Ying reached for the phone, determined to get answers. “I need to know why.”

Her students couldn’t bear this injustice.

Yan Tuo nudged Chen Xi with her elbow, signaling her to intervene quickly. If Chen Ying made that call, their secret would be exposed.

“Professor, don’t rush us out!” Chen Xi pleaded, batting her eyelashes. She pinched her thigh, sucking in a sharp breath. “We still want to stay with you for another two years.”

Chen Xi channeled her future Oscar-winning acting skills, stopping just short of shedding tears for her mentor.

“We’ll miss you terribly.”

“Really?” Chen Ying raised an eyebrow, her gaze shifting from Chen Xi to Yan Tuo. Her hand, which had been resting on the landline, slowly withdrew.

To be honest, she cherished these two exceptional students. Especially since this was Chen Ying’s first year mentoring graduate students, her bond with Chen Xi and Yan Tuo was undoubtedly deeper than with any future students.

The two nodded emphatically, their six years of shared dorm life forging an unspoken understanding. In perfect unison, they declared:

“Absolutely!”

More genuine than diamonds.

“Always flattering me,” Chen Ying said, her stern expression melting into a smile within seconds.

“If you don’t want to leave yet, then don’t,” Chen Ying said, gesturing for them to sit down. “If things get really tough, I’ll pull some strings for you both before graduation.”

Yan Tuo and Chen Xi had barely breathed a sigh of relief when she added:

“But you two don’t have many classes this semester. You’re mostly just working on your theses. If you’re just going to be bored on campus anyway, why not help mentor the freshmen?”

“The first few weeks are always hectic. The first-year students haven’t even started their military training yet—the school’s planning to start it after the National Day holiday. The weather’s not too hot now, so it’s the perfect time for a two-week training session.”

Chen Ying leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk and her chin on her clasped hands, a “kind” smile spreading across her face.

“So, Qian Qian, are you two planning to mentor the freshmen, or should I pull some strings to get you internships?”

“……”

The mentor’s intentions could have been a little less obvious.

Chen Ying had been guiding them for over a year. From Chen Xi’s earlier attempt to stop her from making that phone call, she knew they had their own plans.

“You’ll be mentoring the freshmen, right?”

Chen Xi sighed, knowing she couldn’t avoid it.

Last year, when she was a first-year graduate student, the freshmen had been mentored by second-year students. This year, it was her turn.

A few days ago, when Yan Tuo mentioned it, Chen Xi had clung to the hope that she could somehow avoid it.

“Good girl~” Chen Ying said, clearly pleased with her students. “You two are the faces of our department. The freshmen will definitely look up to you.”

Chen Ying had complete confidence in Chen Xi and Yan Tuo.

Military training officially began tomorrow. The instructors had already arrived on campus, and the class assignments and uniform distribution would take place this afternoon.

While eating takeout in their dorm at noon, Yan Tuo said to Chen Xi, “Let’s divide the work.”

“How do you mean?” Chen Xi glanced at Yan Tuo, her eyes narrowed playfully. “Don’t try to slack off on me.”

Chen Xi pressed a hand to her cheek, feigning fragility. “How could you bear to make a future superstar like me spend two weeks baking under the sun?”

Yan Tuo shivered involuntarily at Chen Xi’s theatrics. “Put on a jacket, will you?”

Chen Xi picked up her phone. “So, how are we dividing the work?”

“The first few days and the last few days of training are the busiest. The rest of the time, there’s hardly anything to do. So, let’s both go for the first three days to make an impression, then take turns after that.”

The arrangement seemed quite reasonable.

“Sounds good,” Chen Xi said. “I’m free for the next few days, so I’ll go first, and you can take over after.”

“Okay.”

“Qian Qian, aren’t you filming a drama?” Xiao Xiao interjected, her curiosity piqued. “Is the Young Miss okay with you being away?” As the leader of their CP fan group, she was eager for any romantic tidbits.

“My scenes don’t start for another half-month.”

As for Li Zhi…

“The Young Miss is away on a business trip.”

Chen Xi was already texting Li Zhi:

“Have you had any hot water today?”

Li Zhi had been on a business trip and was also dealing with her period. Chen Xi sent this message three times a day—morning, noon, and night—to show her concern.

Unfortunately, Li Zhi interpreted it as a roundabout way of asking, “Darling, is your period over yet?”

A bittersweet mix of tenderness and frustration.

“No.”

Li Zhi replied with just two words and set her phone down.

The assistant handed Li Zhi the files and asked softly, “President Li, the guest list for your birthday party is ready. Would you like to review it?”

“Just leave it there. I’ll look at it later,” Li Zhi said, her tone as detached as if she were discussing a routine business matter rather than her own birthday celebration. “Has the venue been finalized?”

“It’s all arranged. I’ll be there early to oversee everything,” the assistant assured her.

Li Zhi nodded. “Make sure there are no mistakes.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Ever since Li Zhi could remember, her birthdays had never been simple celebrations. They were merely business gatherings disguised under the pretense of a birthday party.

Just like any other work event—obligatory socializing with nothing to be genuinely happy about.

Her phone vibrated on the table. Li Zhi frowned and picked it up.

It was a message from Chen Xi:

“Young Miss is being naughty today~ / Angry!”

The accompanying emoji was a chubby little panda with its hands on its hips and puffed-out cheeks, vividly animated and utterly adorable.

A faint smile curved Li Zhi’s lips as she leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes briefly.

She texted Chen Xi:

“What are you doing right now?”

Chen Xi blinked twice at the message.

She had sent the message out of concern for her “rich woman” friend, but Li Zhi’s personal reply seemed like she wanted to chat casually.

Chen Xi replied:

“Thinking of you.”

Li Zhi stared at those four words on her phone screen, her eyelashes fluttering slightly, as if she were a little embarrassed.

It was a strange feeling, like suddenly biting into a fluffy, sweet marshmallow.

The sugary strands melted softly on her tongue, the sweetness flowing from the back of her throat to her heart, even her breath carrying a faint, sweet scent.

Li Zhi’s fingers twitched, wanting to reply to Chen Xi but unsure what to say.

In the end, she simply typed:

“I’ll be back the day after tomorrow. I’ll call you then.”

Li Zhi felt like she was being a remarkably self-aware tool.

“Okay!”

Chen Xi didn’t read into it. She returned to the main screen to check her online registration for a performance class.

Girls tend to feel down during their periods, and sweets can really help.

But the Young Miss was away on a business trip and couldn’t have any treats. Sweet talk would have to do.

For the past two days, Chen Xi had even set an alarm to remind Li Zhi to drink hot water.

A girl who normally slept until noon and skipped breakfast was now struggling to fumble for her phone at eight in the morning, barely able to open her eyes, just to send Li Zhi a voice message: “Drink hot water! No tea!”

Even Yan Tuo praised her dedication.

But Chen Xi wasn’t really being dedicated.

She couldn’t quite explain it. She just felt like the Young Miss needed someone to pamper her right now.

They’d known each other for a month now. Li Zhi’s life revolved around work, sometimes so busy she forgot she was even a girl.

Even the most formidable queen harbors a little princess in her heart.

“Does she really need reminding to drink hot water?” Yan Tuo said, unimpressed by the Young Miss who doted on Chen Xi.

She chuckled at Xiao Xiao, the hopelessly romantic girl who spent her days binge-watching idol dramas and obsessing over sugary romances.

“It’s not just about the hot water,” Chen Xi retorted. “It’s about showing you care.”

“It’s girl love girl,” Yan Tuo teased.

Chen Xi glared at Yan Tuo. “We’re both lesbians. How can you be so… straight about it?”

No wonder you’re still single, she thought.

Xiao Xiao blinked, then belatedly turned to Chen Xi.

“No wonder you always brought us milk tea when we were on our periods, saying it would cheer us up.”

Xiao Xiao, oblivious as ever, had assumed it was just a coincidence, never considering Chen Xi’s generosity might have deeper meaning.

So she was actually keeping track.

Xiao Xiao took a deep breath, her eyes glistening with emotion. Her heart swelled with warmth as she gazed at Chen Xi, her lips pursed in a pout.

“Qian Qian, you’re so sweet!”

Yan Tuo and Aunt Xiaoxiao were always thrilled when Chen Xi returned from her morning outings, bringing them milk tea or small desserts.

Chen Xi straightened her back and hummed, deliberately asking, “Sister, I’m beautiful and kind-hearted. Have you fallen for me yet?”

Xiao Xiao, ever the realist, replied, “Not quite.”

She sniffled, drawing her tears back up, and muttered, “Yan Tuo takes me out to eat every day too.”

Oh-ho!

Something’s fishy.

Chen Xi glanced sideways at Yan Tuo, who raised a hand to touch her nose, her eyes darting away, clearly embarrassed.

Chen Xi lowered her gaze and smiled.

After lunch and a nap, Chen Xi woke up early to apply flawless makeup. Grabbing her parasol, she patted Yan Tuo’s bed frame before leaving.

“It’s getting late.”

“You go ahead. I’ll be there five minutes after you,” Yan Tuo mumbled, sitting up with her hair a mess and eyes still closed.

Unlike Xiao Xiao’s naturally curly long hair or Chen Xi’s sleek, straight locks, Yan Tuo was just lazy.

Too lazy to style her hair, she’d cut it into a short, androgynous style, a bit shorter than the Young Miss’s shoulder-length bob. The top half could barely be tied into a small bun at the back of her head.

When she bothered to dress up properly, her nonchalant expression exuded a lazy, cool vibe.

More handsome than boys, more beautiful than girls.

Too bad she was so lazy.

Chen Xi glanced at the time. “I should head out first.”

One of them had to arrive early.

Yan Tuo pretended to lie back down. “Mmm-hmm.”

The October sun wasn’t as scorching as it had been in July and August, but it was still quite intense.

Chen Xi opened her umbrella and walked toward the teaching building. Many freshmen were on the path, and they couldn’t help but turn to stare at her.

By the time she arrived, the freshmen were already waiting in the classroom.

The first-year graduate students had been in school for a month, and the class officers had long been elected. The class monitor had scheduled a meeting for the students in the lecture hall at 2:40 PM.

For the newly enrolled first-year graduate students, the second-year seniors held a status akin to that of their mentors.

As Chen Xi approached, her umbrella shielded the upper half of her face, revealing only her jawline.

Even this glimpse was enough to draw curious glances from both male and female students. The bolder ones even whistled at her, mistaking her for a freshman.

Chen Xi tilted her umbrella to reveal her full face, a faint smile playing on her lips as she glanced sideways at the whistlers by the window.

Her gaze was as calm as still water.

The whistler’s face flushed crimson. He ducked his head, pulled his baseball cap low, and buried his face on the desk.

His deskmate, oblivious to what had just happened, excitedly nudged him. “Li Qing, Li Qing! She’s here! She’s here!”

Chen Xi folded her umbrella and stood on the podium, her gaze sweeping down over the crowd.

“Hello everyone, I’m Chen Xi, your senior. I’ll be co-supervising your military training with another senior.”

The classroom erupted in cheers.

Li Qing secretly glanced forward.

That same day, he posted on his social media:

I’m totally crushing on this senior! (photo)

The photo, clearly taken on the sly, only showed her profile.

In the picture, she stood at the front of the formation, speaking to the class monitor. Her aura was striking, her beauty breathtaking, and when she tilted her head, her eyes seemed to glow.

Dissatisfied with just the photo, Li Qing couldn’t resist sending it to his half-sister, Li Zhiwei.

“Sis, I saw an angel! I want to pursue her.”

The message popped up just as Li Zhiwei woke from her afternoon nap and stepped out of the shower.

Grabbing her phone, she saw her annoying younger brother had “poked” her on QQ.

He’d also sent a photo.

He didn’t care if she replied; he just wanted someone to gush to:

“Her voice is so beautiful!”

Li Zhiwei frowned slightly.

She knew Li Qing had gotten into graduate school, but she hadn’t realized he was attending the same university as Chen Xi.

“Sis, her voice must have been kissed by angels! How can it be so perfect?!”

Li Zhi leaned against the bathroom doorframe, her lashes lowered as she replied, a rare occurrence:

“It’s alright.”

Li Qing’s face was a mask of shock, unsure whether he was more stunned by his sister’s sudden “resurrection” or by her dismissive comment about his goddess’s voice.

“You haven’t heard it in person. If you had, you’d know how beautiful it really is.”

Li Zhi put away her phone, ending the conversation.

She had heard it in person.

Many times.

The sweet, unconscious moan the woman in the photo had made when she was bitten—that was truly beautiful.

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