Adopting Myself from the Young Heiress - Chapter 4

Yan Ciwei first saw An Chixu’s body during their middle school years.

The two were in the same high school class, their birthdays only six months apart.

At the time, An Chixu was reserved and quiet, with only two or three close friends she ate lunch with. Her presence was barely noticeable.

Yan Ciwei, on the other hand, was a prominent figure at school. She excelled academically, enthusiastically tutored classmates, and shared study materials.

Even when she deliberately kept a low profile, people couldn’t help but notice her refined demeanor and occasional glimpses of profound knowledge, which left others in awe.

Their lives were as different as clouds and mud, and they should have had no reason to cross paths.

Yet Yan Ciwei was the first to notice this little cat hiding in the corner.

Like a kind-hearted human approaching a stray, she approached An Chixu with the same gentle demeanor.

She personally shattered the tranquility of An Chixu’s life.

That day, a sudden downpour drenched An Chixu, and someone had splashed mud all over her.

Her parents were divorced and living separately, each with new lives.

As the “old daughter,” An Chixu had nowhere to go and no one to care for her at home.

Yan Ciwei quietly took her home.

At that time, An Chixu still trusted her human. The summer rain streamed down her face, her almond-shaped eyes glistening wetly as she crouched on the ground, looking up at Yan Ciwei.

Yan Ciwei grabbed a towel and, without a word, draped it over An Chixu’s head, roughly wiping the water from her face.

The pampered young lady had no idea how to care for a stray cat, let alone someone her own age.

She wiped frantically, her movements clumsy and desperate. An Chixu closed her eyes and swayed with her.

Her thoughts, too, swayed, pounding in An Chixu’s chest and leaving her disoriented.

The dining table stood beside them, its chairs crafted from fine wood and cushioned with soft pillows. Yet Yan Ciwei preferred to kneel on the cold floor with An Chixu.

She was a good owner, wanting to stay close to her little cat.

“Aren’t your mothers home?” Yan Ciwei asked, lifting An Chixu into her arms after drying her off.

Cradled against her chest, An Chixu inhaled the earthy scent of rain-soaked soil. Her voice grew thick and indistinct, sounding almost like a cat’s purr.

“I’m considered a ‘foreign-born’ here,” Yan Ciwei replied with a soft laugh, leading An Chixu to the bathroom.

Yan Ciwei’s mind swirled with self-mockery at her own manipulative tactics. Yet her smile radiated gentle warmth, slowly drying away the damp chill of the sudden downpour.

An Chixu relaxed, her eyes curving into crescents as she stood still, waiting for Yan Ciwei to unbutton her school uniform.

Completely unguarded.

That fragile shell. Yan Ciwei unbuttoned it slowly, meticulously. Any faster, she feared she might succumb to the impulse surging within her.

But An Chixu was pressed close, her misty eyes seeing only Yan Ciwei through the rain-blurred haze.

She wouldn’t leave her side. For the first time in her sixteen years, An Chixu felt completely cared for, mistaking it for love.

She was a stray cat abandoned by love, her instincts forever drawn to its gravitational center.

Yan Ciwei saw all this through the rain-blurred window.

The moment she shed her clothes, An Chixu chose her, falling completely into her embrace.

At sixteen, Yan Ciwei believed that pale skin was forever.

So at eighteen, she repaid An Chixu.

In their apartment near the university, Yan Ciwei reached out to An Chixu.

Her robe hung half-open, the ends of her hair still carrying the lingering scent of geranium.

Her face glowed with a light sheen of sweat, her cheeks flushed with a healthy blush in the evening sun.

She knew exactly how alluring she looked to An Chixu.

Deliberate yet innocent.

An Chixu had long been trapped in her web, unable to escape. She mimicked Yan Ciwei, wrapping her arms around her from behind.

Her hands braided Yan Ciwei’s waist-length black hair, coiling the fragrant, silky strands into a bun at the nape of her neck.

Then she tightened her grip around Yan Ciwei’s waist, pressing her head against her shoulder.

“Weiwei… Elder Sister,” An Chixu murmured, her fingers slowly fumbling with the robe’s buttons.

The robe, which she had seen countless times, now felt unfamiliar. As if blind, she groped for the buttons, only finding them after dozens of attempts.

Her hands started from the bottom, the sleeves brushing deliberately against Yan Ciwei’s abdomen as she unfastened each button.

Yan Ciwei tilted her head, her breath ghosting across An Chixu’s nose, tickling her eyelashes.

An Chixu remained as docile as a kitten, diligently pecking at her adoptive mother’s neck.

Yet two years had passed, and she had long since matured into a cheetah.

Still, having been tamed in her youth, she retained her gentleness in adulthood, often lying at her mistress’s feet, seeking affection and milk.

At this moment, Yan Ciwei was merely guiding her to unravel the last layer of restraint, to meet her openly and serve her.

“Good girl,” Yan Ciwei murmured, her hand covering An Chixu’s, offering silent encouragement.

With a single gesture, she led the inexperienced An Chixu into uncharted territory.

She possessed An Chixu’s entire world, reserving only herself.

Using her own body, she taught An Chixu the meaning of desire and longing.

“Do you like it?” Yan Ciwei remembered asking when An Chixu had first raised her hand.

Do you like it?

The cruel vibration of her phone dragged Yan Ciwei back to reality.

Her hand, which had been resting at her side, slowly lifted.

I actually just…

Perhaps her longing had become too overwhelming, overflowing like a river.

Yan Ciwei withdrew her hand, silent, and picked up her phone with her other hand.

During her five minutes of distraction, the person on the other end had been sending messages frantically.

Yan Ciwei’s gaze turned slightly cold, her emotions hollow.

At that moment, she didn’t know what to hope for.

If it was An Chixu, her jealousy would erupt like a flood.

But if it wasn’t, then what had been the point of creating a new account and adding Pei Yuxi just to act out this charade?

Yan Ciwei never wasted her efforts.

Yet, the way the other person had treated the cat had left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Five minutes earlier, Yan Ciwei had sent a brief message:

Still purring? Could there be a respiratory issue?

The foster cat owner, suspected to be An Chixu, had immediately launched a barrage of messages upon seeing this.

She had sent the message “What do I do?” ten times, followed by a string of apologies.

This wasn’t her Tuantuan.

An Chixu didn’t communicate like this. She was reserved and quiet, preferring to curl up in a corner and cry alone when troubled.

Or, she would remind herself that she was An Chixu’s only love.

She would always help An Chixu solve her problems, handling each situation perfectly. That’s why An Chixu had loved her so deeply.

How could her Tuantuan send so many messages to a stranger, so openly expressing her feelings?

Yan Ciwei stared at the unfamiliar tone with mild boredom before clicking on a new video.

It’s just a cat…

Yan Ciwei clenched her hand, scrutinizing the screen.

The cat looked perfectly healthy. Pei Yuxi had cared for it well—it wasn’t pampered or delicate. How could it suddenly fall gravely ill the day after being moved to a new environment?

My mistake. The cat’s fine. Relax, Yan Ciwei typed dismissively before switching accounts.

An Chixu read Pei Yuxi’s message and sighed softly.

When they had spoken face-to-face, her younger sister hadn’t seemed so aloof. Yet online, she was distant, even indifferent to her beloved Orange, sometimes misjudging whether there was a problem at all.

After half an hour of anxiety, An Chixu reminded herself that she had to rely on herself now. She couldn’t let her emotions paralyze her actions.

She no longer had a sister to solve her problems for her.

An Chixu opened a search engine.

A few minutes later, she shut her phone with a flushed face.

So, cats purr when they’re relaxed and affectionate? What exactly did I ask…?

Looking back at Pei Yuxi’s message, An Chixu now detected a hint of amusement.

No wonder she didn’t tell me. Only someone as clueless as me could get something so basic wrong.

“Orange… can I hold you?” An Chixu felt a sudden pang of loneliness.

Being alone was too bitter. Fortunately, she still had the companionship of small animals, even if it was just someone else’s cat.

Orange hadn’t gone anywhere. Seeing An Chixu reach out, he stood up and rubbed against her hand.

“You’re so cute,” An Chixu said, growing bolder as she placed her palm on Orange’s back.

Orange jumped up, nudged his head against hers twice, then climbed into her lap.

“I should have bought you a cat tree, little girl,” An Chixu murmured. The only cat supply she had forgotten was a cat tree.

Seeing how agile Orange was, An Chixu realized she desperately needed a cat tree.

Orange pressed against her chest, standing on her hind legs to meet An Chixu’s gaze.

The cat’s eyes were a striking Persian blue, melancholic and elegant. When they locked eyes, An Chixu always felt a strange illusion, as if she were looking at a person.

Pei Luochen had eyes just like that. An Chixu had always been drawn to that exotic shade of blue.

In the next moment, Orange crouched down and wrapped her paws around An Chixu in a human-like embrace.

“…Just one more hug,” An Chixu murmured, her heart aching.

She still couldn’t be like Yan Ciwei, a leader and manipulator. Even a fearless kitten could easily seize control from her.

The kitten had initiated the closeness, embracing her first.

An Chixu possessed no domineering nature. It was pitiful how all she had ever wanted was a pure, loving embrace.

Orange clung to her temporary caretaker, showering her with kisses and nuzzles.

A phone call interrupted their interaction.

“…Hello?” An Chixu answered, her breath catching halfway through the message.

The group she had been planning had run into trouble. The leader and a member had made inappropriate remarks, shattering their carefully crafted personas.

She had to go back to work.

An Chixu set Orange down, poured a scoop of cat food into her bowl, and hurried out after changing.

Although she wasn’t the leader, Pei Luochen, or the persona planner for the member who caused the incident, someone would inevitably have to take the blame.

Perhaps it would be her turn to take the fall, along with the younger member she managed.

Shen Jibai had never been popular within the group, and the manufactured “couple” she was paired with had flopped spectacularly.

An Chixu sometimes accompanied them on promotional events. Seeing the meager number of fans who showed up for Shen Jibai, she felt a pang of sympathy and tried to subtly improve her public image with minimal changes. Unfortunately, her efforts yielded little results.

It was even possible that An Chixu herself would have to take the blame.

An Chixu’s eyes flickered.

Who said I wrote this character profile? she thought. The document submitted clearly bore Tang Shu’s name on the cover page.

An Chixu made her decision.

Before the meeting, An Chixu checked the PR team’s efforts. The online comments had been suppressed, and the trending topics had been removed.

But the video had clearly been leaked by a rival group, and they wouldn’t let this go so easily.

An Chixu followed Tang Shu into the conference room, where the atmosphere was tense.

Pei Luochen’s popularity soared above the rest, and she was currently at the peak of her career. She was competing for a magazine cover and her team was vying for the venue to host an upcoming performance.

These were all reasons for her rivals to attack her. It was clear the company wouldn’t abandon her.

An Chixu mentally rehearsed what she wanted to say, waiting for someone to point the finger at her during the meeting.

But she never expected this.

As she entered the conference room, An Chixu looked up.

Her eyes met Yan Ciwei’s.

Edited

The campus scenes will be interspersed as flashbacks from now on.