After Being Bitten By Top-Tier O, Flop A Went Viral - Chapter 22
22: Put Your Leg Up
After a short break following lunch, the six of them gathered on the playground again.
“Students, you’ve worked hard. Next, we’ll proceed with the fourth event,” Mi Sike announced, holding several red ribbons. “Blindfolded Tag.”
Blindfolded Tag involved each team selecting one person to be blindfolded. That person would spin around five times, take ten steps forward, and then start trying to catch the others. The remaining participants could move freely within a designated area and could interfere with the seeker but weren’t allowed to make any noise. The first team to catch their partner would win.
To prevent cheating—like someone deliberately running into the seeker—there was a special rule: partners couldn’t actively approach the seeker and could only move away.
“Wait for me properly. If you don’t catch me, it’ll be your fault. I can’t see anything anyway,” Yan Yuzhen threatened Jin Shuo fiercely before tying on the blindfold. But given her delicate appearance and tone, it came off more like coquettish whining.
Jin Shuo remained silent, though her eyes carried a hint of dazed melancholy. Qin Que guessed she was probably racking her brain trying to figure out how to make Yan Yuzhen find her first without making a sound.
Her CPU must be overheating.
Yan Yuzhen had excellent balance and spatial awareness. After spinning five times and taking ten steps forward, she barely strayed from her original position. She turned and walked straight toward Jin Shuo.
Dai Yuchen hovered nearby, trying to distract her. Yan Yuzhen scoffed. “Bro, your footsteps are so heavy. Stop making trouble and get lost.”
Dai Yuchen: “…”
As Yan Yuzhen closed in on Jin Shuo, Qin Que noticed Jin Shuo’s usually half-lidded eyes brighten. She was just about to applaud their impending victory when Yan Qing nudged her.
She turned to see the woman smirking, pointing at Jin Shuo, then at her, making a twisting motion with her hands, and finally shaking her finger at Yan Yuzhen.
Though Yan Qing hadn’t said a word, Qin Que instantly understood her meaning. She glanced around guiltily before blinking back.
Are you sure you want to do this?
Bullying kids like this?
Yan Qing nodded solemnly, then spread her hands.
I didn’t break any rules.
Qin Que, utterly charmed, silently nodded.
Jin Shuo, seeing Yan Yuzhen just one step away, finally relaxed and let out a sigh of relief.
Then someone grabbed her arms from behind and yanked her sideways. The person’s strength was immense, and Jin Shuo was dragged several steps off course before she could react.
Jin Shuo looked up, startled and furious, only to see Qin Que’s face. The woman wore an apologetic expression, but her actions showed no remorse.
Based on Jin Shuo’s limited understanding of Qin Que, the latter wouldn’t pull such a stunt.
Unless someone put her up to it.
Jin Shuo whipped her head around and saw Yan Qing standing in her original spot, grinning and flashing a peace sign at her.
As Yan Yuzhen grabbed Yan Qing’s arm, Jin Shuo’s mind went blank except for eight words: Disgraceful elders, partners in crime.
“Oops, my bad. It’s me,” Yan Qing said cheerfully, patting Yan Yuzhen’s head. “Better luck next time.”
Yan Yuzhen was baffled. “Huh? Why is it you, Sister Yan? Jin Shuo, where’d you go?!”
Kidnapped.
Jin Shuo struggled against Qin Que’s not-too-tight grip. Bound by the rules, she couldn’t move toward Yan Yuzhen and was practically hopping with frustration.
Qin Que hesitated, wondering if she should continue carrying out Yan Qing’s mission, but Yan Qing quickly pulled her back. If she’d lingered any longer, she might’ve gotten punched.
With no further interference, Yan Yuzhen soon locked onto Jin Shuo’s direction again. After a moment’s hesitation, she confidently strode toward her.
When Jin Shuo was finally caught, she gripped Yan Yuzhen’s hand tightly.
The girl yanked off her blindfold, her annoyed expression faltering when she saw Jin Shuo’s face. “Why are your eyes so red? Don’t be upset! I’m not mad at you! It’s—it’s my fault, okay?”
Qin Que: “…”
From her angle, she couldn’t see Jin Shuo’s face, but this was the first time she’d seen Yan Yuzhen so concerned about someone.
Was this… Yan Qing’s goal all along?
She glanced at Yan Qing, who was watching the reconciled pair with a satisfied smile before turning to her. “Why the pensive look? Wasn’t it fun?”
Thinking back to Jin Shuo’s frantic flailing, Qin Que almost laughed but suppressed it out of empathy. “It was alright.”
For the second round, it was their team’s turn. Seeing Yan Yuzhen and Jin Shuo exchanging determined glances, Qin Que knew things wouldn’t end well. She volunteered to be the one caught.
“It’s fine, you go,” Yan Qing handed her the blindfold, winking. “You won’t have trouble finding me, right?”
The scent of alcohol-laced pheromones in the air subtly intensified, as if emphasizing her words.
Qin Que instinctively held her breath and took the blindfold.
She’d forgotten—for the two of them, this game was a joke.
Blindfolded, the darkness and dizziness from spinning couldn’t disorient her. Yan Qing’s pheromones were like a lighthouse in the night, guiding her unerringly forward.
She strode confidently toward her sole destination.
Yan Qing was likely being harassed by Yan Yuzhen and Jin Shuo, her position shifting constantly.
But Qin Que found her quickly anyway. She could even sense someone clinging to Yan Qing.
She smiled as she grasped the woman’s soft hand, finally understanding why Yan Yuzhen had known she’d caught Jin Shuo without removing her blindfold.
She’d memorized the feel of Yan Qing’s hand. It was unforgettable.
Though confirmation was unnecessary, she still asked, “Yan Qing?”
“Yep.”
She heard the woman’s amused reply before the hand left hers to remove the blindfold.
Sunlight illuminated Yan Qing’s radiant smile, and Qin Que suddenly thought marking wasn’t entirely bad.
Yan Yuzhen, still hanging off Yan Qing, was dumbfounded. “How’d you do that?!”
“Uh.” As someone who’d never cheated in her life, Qin Que scratched her head awkwardly.
Yan Qing just grinned and pressed a finger to her lips. “This is called… hearts linked as one.”
Qin Que clearly saw Yan Yuzhen’s expression flicker with skepticism and exasperation.
The livestream audience shared her sentiment.
Comment 1: Little Yan’s inner thoughts: Go ahead, show off. Who can outshine you two?
Comment 2: Genuinely feel bad for her. I’m getting flashbanged through the screen. Yan Yuzhen deserves compensation for emotional damage.
Comment 3: How’d they even do that? Qin Que moved like she could see.
Comment 4: Maybe she could smell Yan Qing’s scent?
Comment 5: No dog comparisons! No dog comparisons! No dog comparisons!
Comment 6: Then you’d have to ban Qin Que too. Look at this big dog who can’t even take off her own blindfold!
Comment 7: She stares at Yan Qing with puppy eyes, obeys her every word, even attacks others on command. Qin Que, how can you deny being a dog?
Comment 8: Feels like an insult, but it’s hard to argue. You’re right.
The third team was Dai Yuchen and Nie Sijun. The man had been confident until Mi Sike pulled out a full-face mask.
“What’s this?”
“To ensure fairness,” Mi Sike said officiously. “Since the two of you have a mark attracting each other, this mask blocks all pheromones.”
Qin Que guiltily glanced at Yan Qing, who just shrugged, looking as innocent as when she’d told her to kidnap Jin Shuo.
I didn’t break any rules.
Grumbling, Dai Yuchen put on the mask. His sense of direction was far worse than Yan Yuzhen’s. If not for the boundary ropes, he might’ve wandered off into the sunset without finding anyone.
He first stumbled toward Yan Yuzhen. Sensing someone nearby, he lunged forward with a mix of frustration and desperation.
In that split second, Jin Shuo stuck out her leg. Dai Yuchen tripped and fell to his knees, snarling, “What the hell?!”
“Interfering with you,” Jin Shuo said flatly.
Yan Yuzhen burst out laughing and slung an arm around Jin Shuo’s shoulders. “Serves you right for lunging without checking who it was. We’re out anyway. Keep going.”
Nie Sijun stood quietly, watching the scene as if the furious man had nothing to do with her.
Learning from Yan Yuzhen’s team, Qin Que and Yan Qing immediately moved away from Dai Yuchen when he started stumbling around again.
Despite everyone’s leniency, it still took Dai Yuchen over ten minutes to find Nie Sijun. His first words after removing the mask were, “Couldn’t you have moved? Given me some sound? How was I supposed to find you just standing there?”
Nie Sijun seemed used to such unwarranted criticism and didn’t even bother defending herself. “Sorry,” she murmured.
Dai Yuchen opened his mouth to say more but glanced at the cameras and swallowed his words.
“Alright! Based on the order of completion, Team Two wins first place, Team One second, and Team Three third. Take a break, everyone,” Mi Sike clapped. “We’ll start today’s final event—Doubles Volleyball.”
As the name suggested, Doubles Volleyball was a two-person volleyball match. Originally, the three teams would draw lots to see who sat out, but Dai Yuchen immediately raised his hand. “We forfeit.”
After a day of setbacks, he was seething, barely holding back his temper thanks to the cameras. He shot Nie Sijun a glare. “We’d lose anyway.”
So it was Yan Yuzhen and Jin Shuo versus Qin Que and Yan Qing.
Though all four were athletic, none had professional volleyball training. The match proceeded in a delightfully chaotic back-and-forth, with the score seesawing evenly.
Until the final point.
Yan Qing mis-hit, sending the ball floating toward the opposing side. Jin Shuo seized the chance to set it high, and Yan Yuzhen leaped for a powerful spike.
For amateurs, this was practically a guaranteed point.
Yan Yuzhen was already celebrating when Qin Que dove, sliding across the ground and somehow managing to bump the ball up with her hands.
The ball, carrying the full force of the spike, slammed into her palms and flew toward Yan Qing.
But Yan Qing didn’t counter. The ball landed untouched on the ground.
“Huh?” Qin Que sat up, rubbing her stinging hands, confused but not upset. “Why didn’t you—ow!”
Before she could finish, Yan Qing was beside her, fingers brushing her ankle. A sharp pain shot through her, making her gasp.
“You didn’t even notice you sprained your ankle?” Yan Qing’s voice carried a rare edge of irritation.
She’d thought the ball was unreachable, only to turn and see Qin Que’s full-body dive.
Her ankle had twisted from the awkward, overextended lunge, yet the alpha’s eyes had been locked solely on the ball.
Was it that important?
“N-no,” Qin Que answered honestly. She really hadn’t noticed. At the time, she’d just thought she could reach it and went for it.
If they won, Yan Qing would be happy.
But seeing the woman’s frown, she swallowed her explanation and simply apologized. “Sorry.”
Though she wasn’t sure why Yan Qing was so angry.
“Why apologize?” Her good attitude didn’t soften Yan Qing this time. The woman scowled, gripping her arm. “Can you stand?”
“Yeah.” Qin Que tried to stand without leaning on Yan Qing to prove she was fine, but her injured ankle protested sharply. She winced.
“Lean on me. I won’t break.” Yan Qing’s tone was downright frosty as she forcibly draped Qin Que’s arm over her shoulders, supporting most of her weight. She turned to Mi Sike. “We concede. Where’s the infirmary?”
“Got it. I’ll have someone take you.” Mi Sike, well-versed in handling such situations, dismissed the others and summoned a staff member to escort them.
The staffer, a tall alpha, moved to help Qin Que, but Yan Qing stopped him.
“I’ve got her. Just lead the way,” she said politely but firmly.
The walk to the infirmary was silent. Qin Que wanted to apologize several times but lost her nerve under Yan Qing’s stony expression.
Even without pheromones, she could tell Yan Qing wasn’t in the mood to talk.
Yet the woman remained a steady crutch, their bodies pressed close as the setting sun stretched their merged shadows long behind them.
Surrounded by Yan Qing’s scent, Qin Que felt none of her usual flustered excitement.
I messed up, she thought glumly.
The infirmary was a repurposed version of the high school’s original clinic—cramped and simple, with medicine shelves, a few chairs, and a hard bed covered in disposable sheets. Fortunately, the doctor was the show’s resident physician, far more skilled than a school nurse. After a thorough examination, he confirmed Qin Que’s ankle wasn’t seriously injured. Some ointment and avoiding strenuous activity for a couple of days would suffice.
Once the doctor left, he tactfully handed the ointment to Yan Qing, who stood with her arms crossed.
Yan Qing pulled up a chair and began applying the ointment, just like the first night.
Two injuries in two days. Do I just have terrible luck with Qin Que?
Her earlier good mood soured at the sight of the alpha’s bruised, swollen ankle.
She exhaled softly, pressing the ointment into Qin Que’s hot skin.
Like the first time, she didn’t want to cause pain, but working out the bruising required firm pressure.
Having suffered similar injuries during filming, she knew how much it hurt.
But unlike before, Qin Que didn’t resist. She didn’t make a sound, even when Yan Qing rubbed hardest.
If not for the warmth under her fingers, Yan Qing might’ve thought she was treating an inanimate doll.
She grew concerned.
Though she’d resolved to let Qin Que stew for a bit and reflect—though she’d ignored the hesitant, milky pheromones trying to reach her—she couldn’t help looking up.
And immediately regretted it.
The usually tall woman sat slumped on the bed, watery eyes fixed on her like a loyal dog abandoned in the rain.
Am I being too harsh?
Yan Qing rarely second-guessed herself, but Qin Que’s expression was devastating.
She felt like a bully.
If she didn’t explain, neither of them would sleep well tonight.
Fine, fine. Miss Qin, you win.
Yan Qing reluctantly raised the white flag in her heart and spoke first. “You didn’t have to go that far for me.”
Qin Que, surprised she’d broken the silence, brightened momentarily before looking confused.
As if she had no idea what the problem was.
Yan Qing realized hoping for self-reflection might’ve been overly optimistic. But since she’d started, she might as well clarify.
“I mean, we’re equals. You don’t need to push yourself so hard for things I want, to the point of getting hurt.” She met Qin Que’s eyes, emphasizing each word.
After last night’s talk, Qin Que had stopped avoiding her, only to reveal a bigger issue.
Qin Que was too… indulgent.
Yan Qing disliked using that word to describe relationships, but no other term fit.
Whether it was humoring her whims during a pointless competition, catching her arrows, or spraining an ankle for a volleyball point—it was all because Yan Qing had wanted it.
And Qin Que, like formless water, had accepted it all without complaint, reasonable or not.
Yan Qing was no stranger to sycophants. Some people went to far greater lengths for far less.
But she knew this was different. After years in the industry, she could distinguish sincerity from pretense.
Qin Que was sincere—genuinely acting on her desires without expecting anything in return.
That made it serious.
Even if they were just a variety show couple, even among real lovers, such selflessness was rare.
Most would be thrilled by such devotion, but Yan Qing found it unsettlingly unequal.
Right now, she’d prefer Qin Que to demand something—anything—to balance the scales.
“What do you want?” she asked softly. “Today, it felt like you were only doing things for me. What do you want?”
“No,” Qin Que finally understood and relaxed with a smile. “This might sound strange, but seeing you happy makes me happy.”
Yan Qing: “…What?”
Now it was her turn to be baffled. Even her sharp mind short-circuited at such an incomprehensible answer.
“I mean,” Qin Que, having pinpointed the reason for her anger, perked up like she’d solved a difficult equation. “I’ve been to many sports meets, but none left much impression. None were as fun as today. So I wasn’t just doing it for you. Watching you enjoy winning made these ordinary events feel special. I…”
Qin Que meant every word. In daily life, she was considerate, but her placid nature made it hard to truly connect with others’ emotions.
Aside from rare exceptions, her life had been smooth sailing. Even during lows, someone always shielded her.
Thus, she’d always felt separated from the world by a thin veil—one that muted both pain and joy.
A high school teacher once remarked she had the makings of a monk—free from greed, anger, obsession, resentment, hatred, and delusion. Too detached for the mortal world.
Top grades didn’t excite her. Athletic prowess didn’t thrill her.
Until Yan Qing tore through that veil. Raised to be polite, Qin Que cared for others but never overstepped. Yet the mark, the show’s premise, and Yan Qing herself drew her in like the moon to Earth.
For the first time, she stepped out from behind the veil and saw a vivid, dazzling new world.
A world centered on Yan Qing—a woman whose beauty and vitality were unlike anything she’d known. Whether teasing her or competing like a child, everything about her was fascinating.
Never had Qin Que felt emotions so intensely. Though often flustered and heart-pounding, she knew she was happy—happier than ever.
They’d known each other less than two days, yet she genuinely wished Yan Qing could always be this carefree and joyful.
So this cold, distant moon could occasionally borrow a little of the sun’s radiant light.
“Alright, I get it.” Yan Qing cut her off. She knew Qin Que meant no harm, but this was veering dangerously close to a confession.
She stood abruptly, pacing the infirmary before turning to Qin Que, who’d been watching her like a sunflower tracking the sun. “So you’ve already gotten what you wanted?”
Yan Qing had a more accurate phrasing—My happiness is your goal?
But even she couldn’t say something that conceited out loud.
“Mm!” Qin Que nodded vigorously, then seemed to realize how her words might’ve sounded. But she meant them, and clearing up the misunderstanding took priority.
So she resisted the urge to look away and scratched her head sheepishly. “I’m an adult. I know what I’m doing. Those were things I wanted to do. Don’t worry about it.”
Just keep being happy.
She swallowed that last, overly intimate line.
“You…” Yan Qing sighed, finally smiling helplessly. “You really are too good.”
She genuinely didn’t know how else to describe it. Even with her experience, she’d never met anyone like Qin Que.
For once, she felt a twinge of envy—because she couldn’t fathom what kind of upbringing could produce someone so pure and kind.
“So you’re not mad anymore?” Relieved, Qin Que still sought confirmation.
“Says who?” Yan Qing deliberately lowered her voice, watching Qin Que tense before pinching her soft cheeks. “Get better quickly, and I won’t be mad.”
“Okay, it’s a deal.” Qin Que treated the playful words like a solemn vow, smiling up at her. “I’ll recover fast.”
Yan Qing released her, wondering if she’d caught something from Qin Que. Why else would she feel so inexplicably happy seeing her smile?
The livestream chat was in shambles.
Comment 1: I’m deceased. Actually deceased. I forgot to breathe and nearly suffocated.
Comment 2: After all that, how dare you not confess, Qin Que?!
Comment 3: Your happiness is mine and Don’t hurt yourself for me—this is a variety show, not a drama! Have you no mercy for us?!
Comment 4: Yan Qing, just smile. Your lips are twitching harder than an AK.
Comment 5: Her self-control is unreal. If a pretty puppy confessed to me like that, I’d be mauling her face. Respect.
Comment 6: Hands off! We Qin-Qing shippers aren’t pushovers!
Comment 7: Says the account named IAmYanQingsDog.
Comment 8: Everyone knows Yan Qing only has one dog.
Comment 9: Two days, and the chat’s overrun by dog comparisons. Tragic!
Comment 10: Miss Qin bears at least 99.9% of the blame for this.
After resting in the infirmary until the ointment took full effect, they headed back. Though Qin Que could walk normally now, she requested crutches to avoid straining her ankle—she’d promised Yan Qing a speedy recovery.
By the time they returned to the field, the other two teams had left. Only Mi Sike remained.
“Is Qin Que alright?” After polite inquiries, Mi Sike announced the audience’s task. “Today’s sweetest moment still goes to Team Two’s stream. The challenge is—Qin Que must describe her first impression of Yan Qing versus her current impression. Success earns ten campus coins. Accept?”
After two days, Qin Que and Yan Qing’s CP fanbase had exploded, hence the joint task.
“Perfect timing. I’ve been curious too.” Yan Qing smirked at a nervous Qin Que. “Stop staring. Just say what you think.”
“Okay.” Qin Que nodded, recalling their first meeting.
The woman at the table had radiated pheromones that drove people wild. And when she’d looked up, it was as if all the stars in the sky had fallen into those deep indigo eyes.
“First impression… you were beautiful. Really, really beautiful.” Qin Que’s chest tightened, her words stumbling. “So much more than in movies.”
And despite her disadvantage, she’d been utterly composed—like a hunter waiting for prey to walk into her trap.
Physically strong, able to pin down a fleeing Qin Que.
But she couldn’t say that, so she settled for simple, earnest praise.
“You’re into looks?” Yan Qing leaned in, amused. “Want a closer inspection? Maybe you’ll spot flaws the camera misses.”
“N-no, no!” Qin Que waved her hands frantically, unsure whether she was refusing the offer or denying flaws existed.
“Current impression…” Qin Que thought back over the past two days. “You like teasing me, eat very little at dinner, have lots of cute little toys, save foods you dislike for last, are full of energy…”
Her voice trailed off as she realized her current impression could be summed up in four words: She’s so cute.
Which didn’t align with their supposed dynamic at all.
“Qin Que,” Mi Sike cut in, seeing her face redden. “There’s no word limit.”
Translation: Tone down the flirting.
“O-oh. I’m done.” Qin Que seized the lifeline, only to meet Yan Qing’s thoughtful gaze.
Guiltily, she opened her mouth to say she hadn’t meant it like that, but Yan Qing pinched her ear.
She froze like a robot with its power button pressed.
“Hmph.” Yan Qing’s smile was inscrutable. “So this is what you were thinking while watching me eat?”
Qin Que nodded innocently.
The woman laughed, releasing her ear to poke her forehead. “So in your mind, I’m just a picky brat?”
“N-no!” Qin Que denied instinctively. She belatedly recalled Yan Qing’s mature, dependable moments, but for some reason, only the adorable ones had surfaced earlier.
“Too late. The brat’s throwing a tantrum now.” Yan Qing shook her head, turning away.
Qin Que hurried after her, only to realize the woman was walking slowly—slow enough for someone on crutches to keep up.
She immediately understood Yan Qing wasn’t actually angry.
But she missed the woman’s faintly reddened ears in the twilight.
The dining hall was empty when they arrived—the other teams had already eaten and left.
Yan Qing again took a small portion, shooting Qin Que a challenging look.
This is how I eat. Got a problem?
Qin Que suppressed a laugh and nodded emphatically. “As long as you’re full. Overeating at night isn’t good anyway.”
As they sat, Yan Qing slid a dish toward her.
Confused, Qin Que looked up to see the woman smirking, enunciating clearly: “I. Am. Picky.”
Yan Qing had meant to tease. She wasn’t actually childish enough to hold a grudge over this, but being called out by someone six years her junior was… embarrassing.
Qin Que didn’t think she was immature.
But Yan Qing wasn’t one to back down.
To her surprise, Qin Que unhesitatingly picked up her chopsticks, plucked a cucumber slice from Yan Qing’s plate, and replaced it with a shrimp. “Anything else you don’t like besides cucumbers?”
Yan Qing: “…”
As Qin Que diligently picked out all her cucumbers, Yan Qing felt increasingly childish by comparison.
“Never mind.” She tried to reclaim her plate, but Qin Que, assuming she was being considerate, reassured her, “It’s fine. Five minutes tops.”
Miss Qin, if I didn’t know you better, I’d think you were messing with me.
Yan Qing massaged her temples, experiencing the novel frustration of punching cotton.
In the end, Yan Qing ended up with a plate of nothing but shrimp and corn, which she ate under Qin Que’s approving gaze.
After dinner, Yan Qing suggested heading straight back to the dorm to accommodate Qin Que’s injury, but Qin Que insisted on a walk to digest.
They strolled slowly around the field before settling on the grass.
The night was clear, the moon absent, leaving the stars brilliantly visible—like shards of crystal scattered across an ink-blue river.
“It’s been ages since I’ve seen stars like this,” Qin Que murmured. In her childhood, before Yuncheng’s development, such skies were common. Now, neon and skyscrapers drowned them out.
“Mm. Did you name the stars as a kid?” Yan Qing also gazed upward, though her expression lacked Qin Que’s joy.
“No. There were too many to count.” Qin Que recalled once trying to count them after hearing some story, only to give up dizzy and defeated.
“I did.” Yan Qing smirked, though her tone held little mirth. “I spent a lot of time in one place as a child. It was big, but even big places have limits. The sky was just that patch. After a while, I named many stars. They were like friends—nighttime-only friends.”
“Yan Qing…”
It was a romantic notion, but Qin Que’s first thought was how unhappy someone like Yan Qing must’ve been, confined to one place.
She knew nothing of Yan Qing’s past, but seeing the loneliness in her eyes under the starlight, she felt compelled to say something.
“At least now, we’re looking at the same sky.” She pointed to the stars, her gaze soft on the woman beside her. “You can see as much as you want, for as long as you want.”
I’ll stay with you.
Yan Qing’s eyes widened, a fleeting brightness passing through them like a shooting star.
She studied Qin Que for a long moment before finally ruffling her hair. “Didn’t know you had a poet in you.”
Qin Que laughed too, aware how idealistic her words had been. But Yan Qing’s smile made it worth it.
“Alright, let’s go.” Yan Qing stood, offering her hand. “Truth is, I don’t remember most of those names anymore. It’s all in the past.”
Back in the dorm, Qin Que tried letting Yan Qing shower first, but the woman shooed her into the bathroom instead, citing her injury.
When she emerged, she found Yan Qing idly batting at the fox figurine, sending it spinning.
For a moment, she imagined a cat pawing at a water glass and nearly laughed aloud.
Then Yan Qing glanced up and picked up the ointment.
“It’s fine, I can do it.” Qin Que waved her off.
This afternoon had felt inappropriate—treating her ankle required Yan Qing to bend uncomfortably. If not for Yan Qing’s anger, she’d never have allowed it.
Seemingly reading her mind, Yan Qing smirked. “No can do. You got hurt because of me. I need to fix my picky brat image.”
Qin Que: “…”
Wasn’t this matter already in the past?
Feeling guilty, she could only obediently walk to the chair and sit down, rolling up her pant legs.
Yan Qing sat across from her but didn’t bend over. Instead, she gently patted her own knees, which were pressed together.
The meaning was clear—place your legs here.
Qin Que would rather believe she had misunderstood. She gazed into the woman’s eyes and silently shook her head.
Yan Qing deliberately furrowed her brows and put on an act. “But bending over is so tiring. A naughty child doesn’t like to bend over.”
Qin Que: “…”
Was this never going to end?