The Cold Sister Is Too Flirtatious - Chapter 1

“The power’s out again.”

Leng Yao muttered under her breath as she stepped out of the dorm bathroom, wrapped only in a thin towel.

She groped her way through the darkness and flopped down onto her bed—only to land on something warm and soft.

“Mm—!”

A ghost?!

Before she could scream, a cool, clear voice cut through the darkness like an icicle.
“Quiet.”

Click!

The lights flickered back on.

Leng Yao froze. A woman dressed all in black loomed over her, pinning her down on the small dorm bed. Her hand was still pressed over Leng Yao’s mouth.

Her heart thudded wildly in her chest, a mix of fear and disbelief. The woman’s features were striking. Her delicate brows, refined eyes that carried an almost ancient grace but her gaze was faint and distant, like she couldn’t be bothered to see the world clearly.

Leng Yao’s breath caught. Even ghosts look this beautiful now?

“I…” She tried to speak, wanting to explain she meant no harm.

But the woman’s strength suddenly gave out. Her hand slipped from Leng Yao’s lips, brushing faintly against them before her whole body collapsed forward.

Caught off guard, Leng Yao instinctively wrapped her arms around her.

A faint metallic scent of blood hit her nose. Her expression changed as she carefully laid the stranger flat on the bed.

Blood had soaked through the woman’s black robes, spreading out from the wound near her chest.

A revenge killing? Leng Yao’s mind raced. If someone had tried to kill her, taking her to a hospital might get her found again.

Then there was only one option. Keep her here.

********

The next morning, the woman in black stirred and slowly opened her eyes.

A girl was lying beside her, breathing softly in her sleep.

Her wound had already been tended to, wrapped neatly with bandages.

She ran a trace of spiritual power over it—within moments, the torn flesh began to knit together at a visible speed.

Leng Yao, who had been half-awake in worry all night, immediately noticed the movement. She blinked blearily then stared in shock at what she was seeing.

“The wound… it’s healing! Are you from a cultivation world or something?” she blurted, her voice full of awe. As an avid fantasy novel reader, she recognized the signs instantly.

The woman frowned slightly. Everything about this place felt strange and the girl before her seemed terribly fragile.

Without answering, she grabbed Leng Yao’s wrist to check her pulse. As expected, There was no trace of spiritual energy.

Leng Yao startled at the sudden touch, her cheeks warming. Being held by such a gorgeous woman made her pulse skip for entirely different reasons.

“Um, sorry, you probably don’t understand what I’m saying. What’s your name? How should I call you?”

“Lin Tingxue.”

Leng Yao’s eyes lit up. “‘Lin Tingxue, where blossoms bloom for Yao Hua to see’… What a lovely name! I’m Leng Yao. Seems like we were fated to meet, huh?”

Now that she was sure Lin Tingxue hadn’t been attacked, Leng Yao suggested taking her to the hospital for a check-up.

Lin Tingxue tilted her head. “What is a ‘hospital’?”

“It’s… where you go to see a healer,” Leng Yao explained, tugging gently at her arm.

“No need. My body has already healed.” Lin Tingxue’s tone was calm and even, her expression unchanging. “As for cultivation, I was number one in my realm. You needn’t worry.”

Leng Yao couldn’t move her at all. Instead, with a soft pull, Lin Tingxue drew her back and she toppled right into her arms again.

The bed was small, and Leng Yao once again found herself pressed against her.

So soft… and she smells so good!

Flustered, Leng Yao scrambled upright. Lin Tingxue, however, seemed intent on proving her point. With the same serene expression, she loosened her collar to show the unblemished skin where the wound had been.

White, smooth, and flawless.

Last night, Leng Yao had blushed herself silly while dressing that wound on the unconscious beauty.

But now, with Lin Tingxue awake and baring herself so naturally, her face turned scarlet all over again. She hurried to pull the fabric closed, only to accidentally brush against her.

Too soft.

Lin Tingxue, meanwhile, remained utterly composed. Having spent her entire life focused on cultivation, she had never learned to see such things as inappropriate.

Once she confirmed there was truly no injury, Leng Yao finally gave up on the hospital idea.

She pulled a tub of ice cream from the mini fridge, swinging her legs idly as she asked, “So, Sister, how did you end up here? In novels, people usually cross over because of some fateful event.”

Lin Tingxue didn’t answer right away. She hadn’t spoken this much in years; communication wasn’t her strength.

But the girl before her was… different. Too bright, too warm, too earnest.

It made something unfamiliar stir in her chest, something she couldn’t quite name.

If it had been before, Lin Tingxue could have simply released a strand of spiritual power and returned to her sect to cultivate.

But now, watching Leng Yao happily eating ice cream, she withdrew the faint light flickering at her fingertips.

Too weak. She’ll die if I use spiritual force here. I can’t risk it.

So instead of meditating in silence as usual, she did something entirely out of character—she actually answered Leng Yao’s questions.

“I was fighting in the Great War of Gods and Demons,” Lin Tingxue said lightly, as if speaking of the weather. “I killed my opponent, but his divine soul managed to strike back and wound mine. When I awoke, I found myself in this strange world.”

Leng Yao’s eyes went wide, and an idea struck her. “Wait, Sister—you wouldn’t happen to be the head of the Azure Cloud Sect from Immortal Clouds, would you?”

Lin Tingxue gave a small nod.

Immortal Clouds was a classic xianxia novel, and Leng Yao’s favorite character had always been Sect Leader Lin—not the heroine, but the woman who was so powerful that she could look down on the world with indifference.

She guarded the realm through countless life-and-death trials, never once retreating.

And now that same idol was standing right in front of her. Leng Yao was so excited she forgot all about the ice cream in her hand.

The scoop melted, slid off the spoon, and dripped right onto Lin Tingxue’s thigh.

Leng Yao jolted back to reality. “Ah! I’m so sorry, Sister!” She quickly reached out to wipe it away, her fingers brushing smooth, cool skin.

Then it hit her. She had no idea if she should keep wiping or pull back.

Lin Tingxue’s robe had been ruined by blood the night before, so Leng Yao had dressed her in one of her own summer dresses.

But the dress that reached Leng Yao’s knees barely covered Lin Tingxue’s thighs, turning into a mini skirt on her tall frame.

The vanilla ice cream had fallen right on that pale stretch of skin.

Soft, smooth, and faintly sweet.

Lin Tingxue could have cleansed it in an instant with a water-purifying spell, but since she didn’t recognize what had fallen on her, she assumed she had to handle it by local methods—and so she allowed Leng Yao to continue.

When Leng Yao froze mid-motion, Lin Tingxue’s lashes lifted slightly. Her clear, cold eyes locked onto the flustered girl.
“Not going to finish?”

“O-oh! Right!” Leng Yao stammered, wiping the last trace of ice cream away in a panic before bolting to the bathroom.

Water rushed from the tap as she scrubbed her hands. Her fingertips still seemed to remember the silky warmth of the other woman’s skin.

She rubbed at them helplessly until every trace of stickiness—and every dangerous thought—was gone. Only then did she dare breathe normally again.

When she came out, Lin Tingxue was sitting on the bed, frowning at the television screen.

A war report was playing, showing smoke and ruin along a distant border.

“Leng Yao,” Lin Tingxue said quietly, “in this world… do people die in battle as well?”

“Not as much as before,” Leng Yao answered softly, “but wars still happen. Just like your Great War of Gods and Demons—some things can’t be avoided.”

Lin Tingxue’s eyes darkened. “Give me a few years to recover my cultivation, and I’ll put an end to it.”

Leng Yao threw her arms around her, eyes shining. “You’re amazing, Sister!”

Lin Tingxue stiffened. She didn’t like people getting too close, but the girl in her arms felt so fragile that pushing her away might actually break her.

“Sister, you’re the best! I love you so much!”

The open, sincere warmth in Leng Yao’s voice made Lin Tingxue’s brows relax. Somehow… it didn’t feel as unpleasant as she’d imagined.

********

Over the next few days, Lin Tingxue stayed in Leng Yao’s dorm.

Shanwen University’s dorms were for two students, but since Leng Yao’s roommate had long moved out to rent off-campus, Lin Tingxue could remain undisturbed.

By the next morning, the university’s digital roster showed a new student—Lin Tingxue. With one simple incantation, she’d altered everyone’s memories to make her presence seem natural.

It happened to be Saturday, so Leng Yao decided to take her shopping for clothes. Lin Tingxue didn’t object—her current outfit was far too short for serious cultivation.

In the parking lot, Leng Yao pressed a key fob.

Beep-beep!

They passed a car. Then a motorcycle. Finally, she stopped in front of a small pink-and-white electric scooter.

Leng Yao handed one helmet to Lin Tingxue and slipped the other on herself.

But when she turned back, Lin Tingxue was still standing there, holding the helmet and not moving an inch.

Ignoring the frosty expression on the woman’s face, Leng Yao couldn’t help thinking, She’s like a gorgeous but clueless beauty… so cute!

She stood on tiptoe to try to help her put it on but Lin Tingxue was just too tall.

At 158 cm, Leng Yao was an average-height southern girl, petite and soft. Next to Lin Tingxue’s 176 cm frame, she looked like a child.

She beckoned. “Sister, bend down a little.”

Lin Tingxue complied, leaning toward her obediently.

Weak… and short.

It wasn’t disdain—just an honest assessment.

Click.

The buckle snapped into place. Leng Yao looked up and found Lin Tingxue’s eyes fixed on her, intent and unblinking. She knew it was probably just curiosity—learning how to wear the helmet but being stared at so closely by her idol still made her blush.

She quickly flipped down the visor to hide those piercing eyes.

Then she hopped onto the scooter’s front seat and patted the space behind her. “Hop on, Sister. Don’t underestimate this little thing—it’s fast! Three kilometers in ten minutes.”

“Why not fly on a sword?” Lin Tingxue asked, puzzled. “Sword-flight would take less than a blink.”

There was no reasoning with a cultivator. Leng Yao tried anyway: “In our world, you need a license to fly. Without one, it’s illegal.”

A license? Some kind of spiritual pass? Lin Tingxue didn’t really understand, but if Leng Yao said she couldn’t fly, then she wouldn’t.

She swung one long leg over and sat on the back seat.

The sun was gentle, the wind soft against their faces. At Leng Yao’s insistence, Lin Tingxue wrapped her arms loosely around the girl’s waist.

Leng Yao grinned and started humming, her mood bright as the breeze.

Lin Tingxue, holding that slim waist, could smell the faint scent of peaches from her hair.

Strange world, she thought. Its rules are truly peculiar. Even traveling requires holding on to someone.

“Sister,” Leng Yao called, glancing back with a smile, “we’re here.”

Leng Yao parked her scooter in front of a clothing boutique but before her feet even touched the ground, the little electric bike had already come to a steady stop.

…?

She glanced down. Though Lin Tingsue was sitting in the back seat, her long legs were firmly planted on the pavement, holding the bike still.

Her legs were so long. It was smooth and pale, glowing faintly under the sunlight.

Before Leng Yao could react, Lin Tingsue had already stepped off the scooter with graceful ease and walked straight into the store.

Worried that her ancient “guest” might feel out of place in the modern world, Leng Yao hurriedly parked and followed after her.

She pushed the heavy glass door open with some effort — only to find Lin Tingsue completely surrounded by a group of enthusiastic shop assistants, her expression calm and composed.

“Miss, would you like to try this one on?”

“This dress is all hand-sewn. The cut is exquisite. It really matches your temperament.”

Lin Tingsue hadn’t responded at all, her gaze distant and indifferent — until she noticed a certain short girl struggling through the doorway. Then she raised a hand, pointed at Leng Yao, and said lightly:

“Whichever one she chooses, I’ll take the same.”

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