After Becoming a Film Queen, She Dumped Her Financial Sponsor - Chapter 17

Chapter 17: She Used to Call You “Sister,” Not President Fu

Maybe it was because she had been in a high position for too long—

Fu Qingyun was rarely confronted by people who would speak to her so frankly. She lifted her eyes, and a clear answer began to take shape in her heart, but she realized she didn’t want to face it.

Seeing the shadow cast by her eyelashes, Shen Dai felt quite satisfied. She had met Qiao Sijin before, and both of them were equally awkward—but Fu Qingyun was clearly worse.

“Did you know… Miss Qiao used to call you ‘sister’ instead of President Fu?”

“She was actually kind of cute back then.”

That memory surged into Fu Qingyun’s mind—back when she and Qiao Sijin had just met, and Sijin was juggling both school and her early career.

Back then, Sijin was a bit shy, reluctant to accept anything Fu gave her.

Maybe it was because Sijin hadn’t brought an umbrella when it rained. Feeling guilty, she stood behind Fu Qingyun, unsure of what to do, watching the black evening dress Fu wore slowly get soaked.

Soaked and clinging.

Qiao Sijin reached out a hand, hesitated, and pulled it back, biting her lip nervously.

Water droplets slid one by one down Fu’s smooth back. Sijin breathed heavily, harboring unrealistic fantasies about the person in front of her—

Unspoken. Untouchable.

“…Sister, are you cold?”

“…Sister, I’m sorry. I didn’t think it through today… I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

Qiao Sijin figured she’d just go back to the dorm and change clothes—no big deal. But if Fu caught a cold because of her negligence, would she think Sijin was careless, even irresponsible?

Would she be disappointed?

“It’s nothing. You don’t need to feel guilty.”

“I only came to see you today on a whim.”

As it happened, the weather didn’t cooperate and turned her into a drowned rat. She hadn’t brought much—just a little gift for Sijin.

Thankfully, the packaging was sealed tight, so it didn’t get wet.

Otherwise, she’d be the one embarrassed.

Holding a clean towel in her hand, Qiao Sijin stood on tiptoes to gently dry Fu Qingyun’s face. Since Fu wore high heels, she was a bit taller, making Sijin’s movement slow and overly cautious—

Afraid that even a little too much force might redden her skin.

“I’ll do it myself.”

“You go take a shower.”

There was no need to say anything more about the relationship between them. Qiao Sijin put the towel down and hesitated, looking into Fu Qingyun’s eyes but ultimately staying silent.

“I understand.”

“I’ll wash up properly.”

Fu Qingyun took the towel from her. Honestly, the rain wasn’t a big deal to her—but soaked clothes were uncomfortable. She decided to change right there.

She hadn’t been to this house in a long time. In fact, she’d already instructed her lawyer to transfer the deed to Qiao Sijin’s name. But it looked like Sijin rarely came.

There was still a wall between them.

Fu Qingyun didn’t force her, but when she was in a bad mood, the two of them would argue. Most of the time, Qiao Sijin would lower her head and apologize.

Like an angry cat that scratches you but then rubs against your legs with a soft meow afterward.

Infuriating, yet adorable. Impossible to deal with.

She took off the soaked gown and changed into clothes she had left there—just a simple white T-shirt, a stark contrast to the elegant black dress from earlier.

She also let her tied-up hair fall down.

Her slightly wavy black hair draped over the white T-shirt.

Just then, Fu Qingyun happened to run into Qiao Sijin, who had already showered and was wrapped in a white bathrobe.

“I’m done. Sister, you should hurry too.”

Qiao Sijin still looked worried that Fu might catch a cold, especially seeing her in dry clothes now and the wet dress discarded to the side.

She let out a long sigh of relief.

“Mm. If you’re hungry, order something to eat.”

“There’s a place nearby that knows to deliver here.”

Fu Qingyun ran her fingers through her black hair and walked into the bathroom.

“Got it, sister.”

It was always this line. Qiao Sijin never knew what else to say. It felt like their relationship was stuck at this level—

But she wasn’t willing to accept that.

She sat obediently on the sofa. She wasn’t even in the mood to check her phone. Most of the messages were from classmates chatting or her manager updating her on work.

Her manager knew about her relationship with Fu Qingyun, so her schedule was often coordinated accordingly.

She didn’t know how long had passed.

Qiao Sijin had grown used to waiting. When Fu Qingyun finally emerged from the bathroom, Sijin stood up nervously—she had just picked up her phone but dropped it again.

“Sister… you’re here.”

“How long have we known each other?”

Fu Qingyun was towel-drying her hair as she looked directly at Sijin. The question came out of nowhere.

Still, Sijin answered truthfully.

“Half… a year.”

She could have given the exact date and time—but didn’t want to reveal too much of her own thoughts. It was like she was a curled leaf, hiding her last bit of softness.

“Then there’s no need to be so formal around me.”

“I don’t like it when you act like this.”

Fu Qingyun dropped the towel. Her body still carried the lingering warmth and steam of the shower as she walked over—

And wrapped an arm around Qiao Sijin’s waist, leaning close to her ear, whispering softly but with unmistakable force.

“…Sister…”

She felt warm lips brush against her neck, the sensation so tender it was almost unbearable. It was like ants crawling all over her skin, and she instinctively tried to pull away—

But Fu Qingyun held her tight. Her fingers pressed into Sijin’s back, and Sijin’s legs started to go weak, barely able to stand.

“You can be bolder… even bolder.”

“I won’t mind, Sijin.”

Calling her by her name—Fu Qingyun’s voice was like velvet. It sent ripples through Qiao Sijin’s heart, making her completely unable to resist this person.

“I… understand.”

That line again. Fu Qingyun chuckled softly, resting her head against Sijin’s skin, her forehead pressed over her pulse—

As if she could hear every single heartbeat.

“Is that all you know how to say? Or are you just trying to brush me off?”

“No… I’m not brushing you off… Sister.”

Back then, Qiao Sijin still cared deeply about every word Fu Qingyun said or did.