After Stealing a Kiss from My Sponsor Sister - Chapter 21
Finally, Pangpang and Xiaohua arrived.
Pangpang was strong, while Xiaohua followed alongside. Jiang Ya occasionally lent a hand, and together they successfully carried the class monitor to the infirmary. It was still too early, and the teacher hadn’t arrived yet. Xiaohua went out to look for someone, while Pangpang helped the monitor lie down on the sickbed. Jiang Ya noticed some filled-out medical records on the desk. After waiting a while and seeing that Xiaohua hadn’t returned, she pulled out a blank form and had Pangpang write Shu Tianxin’s name on it. This time, she examined it carefully, committing it to memory.
“Xiaohua, you go back first. Pangpang, have you handed in your homework? If not, go back too. I don’t think the teacher will be here anytime soon. I’ll stay and keep watch.”
After Xiaohua returned alone, Jiang Ya thought for a moment and made this arrangement.
Xiaohua wasn’t convinced. “So you’re the only one allowed to skip morning self-study?”
Jiang Ya lifted her eyes slightly. “Who was the one who bombed the last Chinese test and kept wailing about not losing points on dictation and fill-in-the-blanks next time?”
“…” Fine. Her grades were terrible, and she was embarrassed.
Pangpang, on the other hand, was wholly devoted to his studies. “Then hand me your homework, and I’ll take it back for you.”
“Okay.”
After Jiang Ya handed over her homework, she glanced back at Shu Tianxin. Seeing him lying there in a daze, she figured the teacher wouldn’t be too harsh on a patient, so she didn’t make him struggle to dig his homework out of his backpack.
Xiaohua and Pangpang left.
Jiang Ya pulled out her Chinese textbook and seized the opportunity to review the passages she wasn’t as familiar with.
For a while, the only sound in the infirmary was the flipping of pages.
About ten minutes later, the school doctor arrived late, holding a cup of soy milk.
“When did this happen?”
“Here, let’s take your temperature.”
“38.5°C, a low-grade fever. Take this medicine first.”
After the teacher finished the examination, Jiang Ya added from the side, “Teacher, could you check his back too? I accidentally pushed him this morning—not sure if there’s any issue.”
“Alright, let me take a look.”
Jiang Ya thoughtfully drew the partition curtain for the teacher.
Shu Tianxin: “…”
A moment later, the teacher’s voice came from behind the curtain. “A little red, but it’s fine. He just needs some rest.”
When the curtain was pulled back again, the teacher prescribed some medicine. Jiang Ya asked, “Is it contagious?”
Shu Tianxin: “…”
The teacher: “It’s not viral lately, so probably not.”
Jiang Ya sighed in relief. “That’s good.”
She then asked, “Is there anything he can take to prevent it? There’s a quiz this weekend—I don’t want it to affect him.”
“I’ll prescribe some vitamin C for you.”
“Okay, thank you, teacher. Could you prescribe a few extra tablets? There were three of us who brought him here this morning.”
Shu Tianxin: “…………”
When Jiang Ya returned to the classroom, she stepped in just as the first-period bell rang.
After distributing the vitamin C to Xiaohua and Pangpang, Jiang Ya focused intently on the lesson without distraction.
When the break bell rang, Xiaohua and Pangpang, who had suppressed their gossipy curiosity for the entire class, finally let it blaze freely.
“How’s Shu Shen?”
“What did the teacher say?”
“You just came back like that?”
Jiang Ya answered all three questions in one sentence. “He’s on an IV in the infirmary; nothing serious; otherwise, what—should I skip class?”
Xiaohua: “…”
Pangpang: “…”
Xiaohua: “But after the monitor finishes the IV…”
Jiang Ya: “? After that?”
What did that have to do with her?
Xiaohua was defeated and whispered to Pangpang, “Not even a hint of romantic tension!”
Pangpang sighed. “Fairy Ya only has eyes for homework.”
In the midst of their conversation, Jiang Ya’s gaze had already returned to her test paper.
“Got it. Fairy Ya transferred here for one thing and one thing only!”
Pangpang chimed in: “Study! Study! And damn it—more study!”
Xiaohua opened the forum and left a comment under the post titled Shocking! Saw the Goddess Sending the God Off to…
“Break it up, no chance.”
“Our Fairy Ya is devoted to her studies, like the moon shining on a ditch!”
After she posted, an anonymous reply popped up below.
“Shu is also devoted to his studies.”
But the truth was always in the hands of a select few.
“I don’t believe it.”
“I don’t believe it +1.”
“I don’t believe it +1000.”
“I don’t believe it + Old Chen.”
“The class is exposed, huh?”
“I don’t care, I ship it ship it ship it ship it ship it.”
“Shipping everything just keeps me nutritionally balanced.”
“What’s the pairing? Dual academic elites, I’ll take a bite.”
Friday was packed with exams—class quizzes.
By the time Jiang Ya finished her test, she learned about the existence of this forum and that gossip about her had already spread and morphed into countless versions.
With her self-study homework also done, Jiang Ya took a quick glance before school ended.
It was all about her and Shu Tianxin.
There was a sneaky photo of her talking to Shu Tianxin on the sports field. Jiang Ya thought about it—it must’ve been when she asked him to reimburse her for the vitamin C expenses, just those few words exchanged.
The post had spun an entire drama out of it.
Jiang Ya skimmed a couple of lines before closing it.
No imagination. No creativity.
Boring.
Her phone buzzed with a notification. Seeing the name, Jiang Ya instantly switched apps.
Ms. Yu: “I have something to do today and can’t pick you up. Can you and Xiao Huang take a taxi back?”
Jiang Ya’s expression softened instantly.
“If you’re busy, Xiao Huang and I can just stay at school. No need to trouble you.”
A lie.
She was pretending to be considerate.
Jiang Ya bit her lower lip, wondering how Yu Shuang would reply.
What if Ms. Yu replied with an “Okay”? Would recalling the message still work?
Maybe she should just recall it now—Ms. Yu might not have seen it yet.
While her mind raced with possibilities, Yu Shuang sent a voice message.
Jiang Ya glanced up and met Xiaohua’s gossipy gaze. Without batting an eye, she pulled out her earphones from her bag and put them on.
Ms. Yu’s pleasant voice flowed out: “It’s no trouble. Come back. I’ll have Auntie make something delicious for you and Xiao Huang.”
Jiang Ya listened to it two or three times, satisfied, and replied with a simple “Okay.”
She locked her screen and looked up to find Xiaohua still staring at her intently.
Jiang Ya: “?”
Xiaohua hesitated. “You’re smiling from reading the forum? You… didn’t start shipping yourself, did you?”
Shipping herself—wasn’t entirely impossible.
Never underestimate modern people’s adaptability.
Jiang Ya: “…”
Jiang Ya replied nonchalantly, “What are you thinking? What’s so interesting about gossip?”
“Then why are you smiling so happily?”
“Hmm, something good happened.”
“…”
“Why are you staring at me? Finished your homework?”
“.” What a ruthless question—she won!
Studio.
Once again, Yu Shuang slashed a big red X across her design draft, scrapping another version.
She instinctively wanted to toss it to the ground, but a glance revealed the floor already littered with discarded drafts from the past week. So many redos already.
“…”
She wanted a drink.
Even beer would do.
Frustrated.
Exhausted and frustrated.
Tan Xiao pushed the door open and found Yu Shuang sprawled limply over her ergonomic chair.
“Overworked to death?” Tan Xiao blinked.
The gorgeous corpse on the chair stirred, opening her eyes—beautiful and full of grievance.
Tan Xiao: “Don’t move.”
“You look like a glamorous corpse. Let me take a photo for the archives.”
“…”
The moment Tan Xiao reached for her phone, Yu Shuang made her offer: “Buy me a beer.”
“Deal. Don’t move!”
“Two beers…”
“Stay still, stay still.”
“Three.”
“Get lost!”
Ten minutes later, a half-dead Yu Shuang took a sip of dark beer while her partner, Tan Xiao, snapped a satisfactory photo.
The more she looked at it, the more she liked it. “Seriously, why aren’t you a model? You’ve got the perfect look!”
For the hundred and first time, Tan Xiao nagged.
Yu Shuang: “That’d be a waste of the artistic genes my mother left me.”
“…Yeah, fair point.”
Yu Shuang’s aesthetic was uniquely her own—striking yet universally appealing.
Those in creative fields often dive headfirst into their own worlds, trapped in cycles of self-admiration.
Tan Xiao was no exception.
Putting away her phone, she glanced at the discarded drafts on the table and laughed. “Hah, not easy, is it? I’ve scrapped seven final versions of the Forest Nymph!”
Yu Shuang weakly replied, “How impressive.”
“Right back at you.”
“…”
After a moment of silence, Tan Xiao asked, “Are you sure you can pull this off?”
It wasn’t really about certainty—there was no choice. They had to make it work.
Last week, under relentless pressure from both the He and Yu families, every pending deal had fallen through. The only one left was a signed contract. If they couldn’t even deliver on this, their studio might as well shut down.
Yu Shuang lowered her lashes, silent, and took another sip of beer.
Tan Xiao tugged at her hair. “Hah, actually, what I meant was…”
Yu Shuang: “You want out?”
“Of course not!”
“Then don’t say anything else.”
“…”
The atmosphere froze over.
Tan Xiao exhaled. “What I meant was, don’t push yourself so hard.”
Yu Shuang smiled faintly, her eyes downcast, the expression fleeting. “Too late for that.”
“…Alright.”
“Then let me say one more thing you won’t like.”
Yu Shuang glanced at her, signaling her to continue.
“Don’t you think, if we’re sourcing inspiration for this design, Su—”
She barely got two syllables in before Yu Shuang’s expression cooled. Her vivid features quickly settled into place, as if fixed onto an unsmiling face.
Her lashes cast shadows, her dark pupils locking onto Tan Xiao with an intensity that brooked no levity, cutting her off mid-sentence.
“…”
“Ugh, you know who I mean. Just a suggestion—she’d fit the vibe perfectly. Up to you whether to use it.”
Tan Xiao blurted it all out in one breath, then stood. “Shu Wangxiu’s here. I’m clocking out.”
“Off to see your sweetheart? Happy weekend.” Yu Shuang closed her eyes lightly.
“Girlfriend! Girlfriend! How many times do I have to say it? Don’t let her hear you!”
“Call it that after you’ve lasted a season.”
“Almost there—just one more month.”
“Hah.”
Tan Xiao’s back stiffened, fearing Yu Shuang might dredge up some past embarrassment, and quickly made her escape.
The door clicked shut. Silence returned.
But Yu Shuang’s heart wasn’t as calm as she appeared.
She knew exactly who Tan Xiao had been about to name.
Su Shu.
That aloof yet magnetic aura would suit the concept perfectly, but…
She gulped down the beer, the bitterness spreading across her tongue, then pulled open a drawer.
More discarded drafts.
The difference? These weren’t crossed out.
Without Tan Xiao’s knowledge, she’d already tried that approach.
But—
It wasn’t the same anymore.
Su Shu was no longer the same person in her heart as when they first met.
Perspectives had changed, their relationship had changed, and so the feelings were entirely different now.
The female demon in the painting didn’t carry the eerie terror of one ignorant of the world—instead, it exuded the ambiguous seduction of the adult world. It was off-topic.
Ding. Her phone chimed.
Speak of the devil. Looking at the avatar on the screen, she realized this was already the fourth message from the other person. She hadn’t replied to the previous ones—simply because she didn’t feel like it.
Are you busy?
The most recent one.
Before that, in order:
How have you been lately?
I heard some news about the situation in Shangjing. You weren’t affected, were you?
Ning?
“Ning” was Yu Shuang’s English name. Her mother had originally wanted to name her Yu Ning when she was little, but her grandmother had vetoed it. “Yu Shuang” was the name her grandmother chose, so her mother used the discarded name as her English one instead. Those close to her would call her by this nickname.
After staring at her phone for a while, idle and with nothing better to do, Yu Shuang replied.
Ding. The signal was received on a phone somewhere overseas.
Just saw this. Sorry. I’m doing fine.
Polite and perfunctory.
Distant and indifferent.
That was the nature of their relationship now.
With this little interlude, she ended up staying at the company without accomplishing anything, just drinking an extra beer.
On the ride home, Yu Shuang fell asleep.
She only woke up when the driver called out to her. Groggily, she checked her belongings and stepped out of the car, phone in hand. The screen lit up to reveal a long string of messages.
Her mind still foggy, Yu Shuang couldn’t quite process it at first.
Su Shu? Had he changed?
Opening them, she saw the avatar was a pink Jigglypuff.
Ms. Yu, have you left yet?
I saved some food for you.
Hmm, still working? You’ve been so busy lately.
I’m going to read too.
Ms. Yu, are you coming back tonight?
Oh. It was the kid she’d picked up.
Jiang Ya.
Instinctively, Yu Shuang looked up. The floor where she lived was lit with a warm yellow glow.
As she pressed the elevator button, her mind still felt detached.
When she opened the door, the space behind it was bright—not a dark, hollow void.
She really shouldn’t drink on weekdays. Her thoughts kept jumping between the past and present.
A yellow dog dashed out at her.
Yu Shuang instinctively caught it.
Her first thought was—why was Alice so small now?
Then, in the next second, she remembered Alice was already gone.
Her vision focused. The little yellow dog enthusiastically licked her face, its breath warm and ticklish against her skin.
Yu Shuang buried her face in the dog’s fur—it smelled distinctly dog-like, a little stinky.
She laughed and ruffled the dog’s head.
“Ms. Yu, you’re back.”
Jiang Ya opened the shoe cabinet and took out a pair of slippers, placing them in front of her.
She wanted to say, “Sorry for making you wait,” but what came out instead was, “I’m hungry.”
“The food’s still warm. I’ll get it for you.”
Only when the rice reached her mouth did Yu Shuang finally understand why she felt so unsettled.
It was a feeling she had rarely experienced before—the feeling of home.