After Marrying the Aloof Beauty, I Totally Fell for Her - Chapter 25

Chapter 25: Come On, Come On

I’m Not Jealous: Teacher Mu, I made it to the provincial quarterfinals! Here’s my player ID. (image)

I’m Not Jealous: The match is going to be held at the Yun City Sports Arena. Do you have time to come watch?

I’m Not Jealous: Come on, come on! I’m way better at singles than doubles! Proud puppy.jpg

I’m Not Jealous: (Match schedule image)

I’m Not Jealous: No need to buy tickets—players get family passes! You can use one! It’s super close to the court!

The girl’s excitement came through the stream of WeChat messages so vividly that even across a phone screen, Mu Yan could almost see An Ning’s radiant smile.

She couldn’t help but smile along.

MY: Okay. See you at the match.

I’m-Not-Jealous: Yay! I’m off to train now. Talk later! Puppy heart-hand gesture.gif

Mu Yan set her phone down, and continued smiling for five straight minutes before she realized someone was still sitting across from her.

Yuan Zi had stopped eating and just stared at her, wide-eyed, as if her soul had been sucked out by a demon.

“…Ahem.”

What kind of expression was that?

Mu Yan awkwardly tapped the table. “Where were we?”

“Um…” Yuan Zi blinked a few more times before she snapped out of it and dryly replied, “Chairman Liu was very pleased with Wildfire. He said you never fail to surprise.”

Mu Yan merely nodded at the praise from the revered art figure, not even bothering to raise an eyebrow.

Now that felt like the boss she knew.

Yuan Zi sighed internally. She suddenly remembered that Mu Yan had mentioned wanting to get married recently.

She’d thought her boss had finally gone nuts and was joking.

After all, someone who barely left the house once a year—who could she possibly marry? Herself?

Even after Mu Yan posted a photo of her marriage certificate on Weibo shortly after, Yuan Zi remained convinced it was a forgery from some sketchy street vendor.

But now…

Maybe she really did get married?

That idea was scarier than pigs flying.

Yuan Zi imagined her boss acting sweet and fluttery with hearts in her eyes and shivered uncontrollably.

She forced herself to stop imagining things—she didn’t dare ask Mu Yan directly.

Years of experience as her college roommate and employee had taught her that asking would be pointless—worse, she might get blocked.

“Also, Sister Luo said she’s coming back next month. She wants to meet up.” Yuan Zi hurried to switch topics before Mu Yan kicked her out.

“Hmm?” At least this time Mu Yan raised an eyebrow. As expected, her answer was still: “Not going.”

Yuan Zi silently pulled out her phone, and under her boss’s watchful gaze, opened WeChat and read the message aloud in a playful tone:

“I knew you heartless wench would refuse. After all, we shared a dorm for four years in college. Are you really that cold-blooded? If you don’t come, I swear I’ll confess my love for you on Weibo and say you ghosted me after leading me on. Let’s both live on the trending page, at least then we’ll have met!”

Mu Yan: “…”

Yuan Zi quickly put her phone away and held her hands together in mock surrender. “She said if I didn’t read it word-for-word, she’d come sleep at my place. Boss, you know I’m straight… if that rumor gets out, I’ll never find a man again!”

Mu Yan: “…No need to explain.”

Yuan Zi watched her boss’s expression shift unpredictably and felt like a mortal caught in a battle between gods.

Sister Luo, full name Luo Yu, was her and Mu Yan’s college classmate and former roommate. Originally, there had been four of them, but after one, Ni Jiang, left to start a business, she was the only “normal” one left.

The other two were absolute legends in the art world.

Mu Yan didn’t need explaining—her stunning beauty seemed to attract people, but she kept everyone at a ten-meter distance. Every time she was dragged into group activities, she wore a permanent look of “I don’t care, they’re just noisy.”

As for Luo Yu, even in an art department full of passionate, dramatic men and women, her reputation for being too romantic was legendary.

You could tell just from the endless forum posts like “She broke up with me, but I still love her” that kept popping up at the time.

A heartbreaker who still made everyone she dumped admire her—it was a twisted kind of charm.

The two of them were polar opposites in life but unrivaled in talent. One had become the top figure in the national art scene at a young age, while the other was invited to teach calligraphy at a top overseas university right after graduation.

It made one feel like God was fair: when He gave you talent, He took away your grip on sanity.

Yuan Zi’s college years were spent surviving between these two weirdos, and for a long time, she believed that artists were just mentally unstable. She even took pride in not being frozen to death by Mu Yan or seduced by Luo Yu.

She looked at Mu Yan’s furrowed brow and silently prayed they wouldn’t fight when they met up.

At least let her escape before they started throwing punches.

November 5 was the opening day of the provincial badminton quarterfinals. As the most prestigious tournament outside of the national league, the event drew intense attention both in and out of the sports community.

Yun City’s Sports Arena had long since displayed promotional videos on its massive front screens, and all tickets were sold out. By early morning, the underground parking lot was jam-packed.

“Don’t be nervous, Ning Ning! You’ve got this!” In the prep area, Chen Ying patted An Ning on the shoulder, cheering her on.

The provincial league mainly featured athletes from top sports universities who weren’t pursuing national team careers. Many participants secured contracts with professional clubs after a good showing.

If An Ning wasn’t aiming for the national team, this tournament was her golden ticket.

Originally, Hong Tianjiao had been a strong rival. But after her devastating loss at the Feiyu Cup exhibition match, she seemed to lose all motivation—skipping training and matches, effectively quitting the competition.

This was supposed to be great news for An Ning… except—

Chen Ying glanced at the matchup list in An Ning’s hand and sighed.

Call it the Law of Conservation of Misfortune—whatever you fear will come for you.

An Ning’s first opponent was none other than Ruan Ke’er, the top seed from Feng City Sports Institute—the same player who knocked her out during last year’s open qualifiers.

An Ning clearly remembered the name too. She stared at the list with an unusually serious expression.

Just as Chen Ying was about to offer more encouragement, An Ning’s phone vibrated.

Chen Ying watched her take a quick glance at it, then casually toss the list aside and sprint toward the stands.

“Eh? Ning Ning, where are you… going?”

Chen Ying’s words trailed off when she saw the direction An Ning was heading—and who she was running to.

In the VIP seating area close to the court stood a woman in a light gray tracksuit, stunningly beautiful, her expression calm as she watched the girl approach.

“…I’m such an idiot,” Chen Ying muttered, slapping her own mouth before turning to mind her own business.

The way An Ning ran over just now—tail practically wagging—clearly, she had her own personal comforter. No need for Chen Ying to butt in.

“Miss Mu!” An Ning reached the stands and beamed up at the woman.

Though anxiety about the match still lingered in her heart, what she felt more was excitement, joy—and a burning desire to win.

It didn’t matter if she couldn’t remember the past. What mattered was that from now on, for every important moment in her life, she could invite Miss Mu to be there.

That thought comforted her—and guided her actions.

Mu Yan looked at the confident girl before her. Under the crisp sportswear was a tall, athletic body. Her pale face was tinged pink from running, and her brown eyes sparkled with light.

For a moment, it felt like all the light in the stadium was focused on her—so dazzling it was impossible to look away.

She had grown up—and more beautifully than Mu Yan could have ever imagined.

Suppressing the flutter in her chest, Mu Yan just hoped her voice wouldn’t betray her excitement.

“How’s the match? Feeling confident?”

An Ning showed a slightly troubled expression. “Not really… I’ve faced this opponent before. I lost.”

Mu Yan looked at her lowered gaze and wanted to say:

“It doesn’t matter if you win or lose—I think you’re the best.”

But the words were too cheesy—like something straight out of a bad romance drama—and got swallowed into the black hole of her mind before they could escape.

After a moment of thought, she simply asked,

“Do you want to win?”

“Of course!” An Ning’s voice suddenly rose, like she’d been challenged. Her pink lips formed a determined line, her eyes burning with seriousness.

This wasn’t just a crucial match—it was the first official one since she’d met Miss Mu.

Even An Ning, with her usually laid-back nature, didn’t want to lose today.

Mu Yan blinked at her sudden outburst, then smiled.

Really smiled.

Her naturally arched peach blossom eyes curved like spring water, unbelievably beautiful.

An Ning was stunned.

Then the woman dialed her smile back to a gentle curve—like sugar crumbs crushed and scattered across the table.

“Then give it your all. Win it.” Her pale, delicate hand extended toward An Ning, voice soft and warm like a blessing. “There’s a reward if you win. Good luck.”

“Deal!” An Ning gently gripped her hand, nodded firmly, and ran back to the prep area.

In her red sports uniform, the girl running looked like a gust of burning wind—warm and dazzling, but never scorching.

Yeah… even if you don’t win, you’re still the best.

Mu Yan retracted her hand and sat down in the stands. She could still feel the warmth of the girl’s palm in her own.

That line—“You’re the best”—fought its way back from the void of her mind.

“Make sure to pick up the pace from the start,” the coach instructed seriously. “Finish it early before she pulls you into a tug-of-war. Don’t let it be like last time.”

“Got it.” An Ning nodded as she checked her racket, recalling her last match against Ruan Ke’er.

Physically and technically, she should have a slight edge. She had led early in their previous match too.

But Ruan Ke’er’s danger wasn’t in technique—it was…

An Ning glanced at her right ankle and gripped her racket tighter.

The referee’s whistle blew—match start. The players shook hands.

An Ning stepped forward with her hand out.

Ruan Ke’er, a pretty girl slightly shorter than her, shook hands with a sweet smile and whispered so only An Ning could hear:

“Your ankle’s healed? Lucky. I thought I’d never see you on court again.”

An Ning: “…”

Trash talk before a match—tactical or not—wasn’t new. Though her opponent’s words were unpleasant, An Ning just smiled and nodded.

This was competition. Winning was everything. Talking back now wouldn’t change anything.

Whistle blew—An Ning served.

Making it to the provincial top eight was no easy feat. Though An Ning started strong and aggressively, Ruan Ke’er wasn’t easy to suppress. The shuttlecock danced across the court like a bird, swift or slow, pulling every spectator’s heart along.

As time passed, An Ning’s relentless attacks earned her the advantage. She took the first set. The crowd from Yun City Sports University roared in celebration.

But on the prep bench, the coach and more experienced teammates remained tense.

“Damn,” Chen Ying cursed under her breath. “Forget tactics—her style is just infuriating to watch.”

The coach didn’t even scold her. He stared across the court at Ruan Ke’er.

Despite falling behind, Ruan Ke’er showed no signs of panic—composed and methodical, like a hunter waiting to fire the fatal shot.

Her true strength lay in grinding down opponents with tricky shots in long rallies until they made mistakes or got injured.

In high-speed play, one wrong move could mean an injury that might end a career.

An Ning had been lucky last time—only a sprained ankle.

But this time…

The coach glanced at An Ning. She was visibly tiring. Sweat streamed down her flushed face; her clothes were soaked.

She still wasn’t strong enough to dominate Ruan Ke’er outright.

Which meant eventually…

Suddenly, disaster struck.

Ruan Ke’er hit a long shot, and as An Ning dashed toward the edge of the court, her foot slipped—

She fell, hard.