Crush's Cold Senior Sister is Actually Childhood Sweetheart - Chapter 14

Chapter 14: They Stood Face-to-Face, Pressed Close, Their Noses Almost Touching.

The stone platform closest to them had already broken, with not even a shadow of its fragments remaining. Although it was easy to fly to other stone platforms, no one knew if the same situation would occur again. Everyone froze in place for a moment, no one moving.

“Just follow me. You can only step where I step, one by one. Each stone platform can hold a maximum of two people.” As soon as Ling Qi finished speaking, she grabbed An Jin’s wrist and swept forward with her. They landed steadily on a stone platform.

An Jin looked back in the direction they had come from; their jump had surprisingly cleared several stone platforms at once.

“Will these in front… all fall?” An Jin quietly tugged on the sleeve of the person beside her and asked.

“None of them are stable,” Ling Qi nodded, then asked, “Do you want to play by yourself later?”

“Play?!” An Jin’s eyes widened. Isn’t this a secret realm full of traps, where every step is dangerous?

“Just treat it like hopscotch, but there are no numbers on it. You just have to jump with me.”

“…Alright.” Seeing An Jin agree, Ling Qi didn’t linger and flew directly to another stone platform a few meters away.

Having learned from the previous challenge, everyone was extra cautious this time, silently following the steps of the person in front, ensuring that no more than two people stood on each stone platform.

Just as they were about to reach the last stone platform, An Jin accidentally stepped on some moss and her foot slipped. The person behind her grabbed her arm. “Careful.”

“…Thank you.” An Jin, supported by Yang Anping, felt a little embarrassed. Previously, because Yang Anping’s hostility towards Ling Qi was too deep, she subconsciously categorized her as “not a good person,” thinking it was already good enough if she didn’t push her down.

“Come.” The person in front reached out both hands to her. An Jin blinked, and without a second’s hesitation, she walked straight into Ling Qi’s embrace.

The stone platform wasn’t large; there was no room to back away. The two of them completely filled the narrow platform. They stood face-to-face, pressed close, their noses almost touching. Ling Qi looked down at her, her breath unintentionally brushing An Jin’s hair, a few stray strands trembling slightly. She noticed that An Jin remained motionless, quietly curled up in her arms in the same posture, and the corners of her lips involuntarily lifted.

“Shall I open the door?” The person in her arms mumbled a nod, not saying a word. Ling Qi smiled again. Holding her hand with her left, she pushed open the next stone door with her right.

Dazzling white light poured out from behind the door, boundless, without any scenery. As far as the eye could see, there was only blinding white. The moment after pushing open the stone door, Ling Qi suddenly felt the warmth in her palm disappear, and their clasped hands separated. Before she could react, her body suddenly sank, falling uncontrollably downwards.

Ling Qi gently closed her eyes. It’s here.

…

This was the fifth year since the academy was established, and also Ling Qi’s fifth year at the academy. It was also her fifteenth day of attending classes at the academy. It really wasn’t her fault. The main reason was that a certain someone adhered to the principle of “it’s a loss if you don’t skip a class you can skip,” and in just a few years, took her all over the four seas and eight wildernesses. They were often so tired that they could fall asleep anywhere, leaning against a random rock. At the same time, a certain someone’s ability to cause trouble grew daily. Wherever they went, they would attract a group of people to chase after them and fight. Afraid that others would come knocking to complain, and not daring to use the Emperor’s name, she could only drag Ling Qi along to run for their lives. From initially having no power to fight back, to eventually being able to fight evenly with a group of people, Ling Qi ultimately owed it to Yuan Shunhua, who was always hiding behind her.

But what good was that? The academy assessment’s content wasn’t “test your escape ability”… For the five-year academy assessment, Ling Qi felt a chill deep in her heart.

Ying Baizang in the front row was earnestly writing something, no one knew what. Yuan Xihe, sitting beside her, propped her head and had just turned a page of her book. On the table of Ying Huaiyu, diagonally in front, sat a brand new “Compendium of Celestial Realm Spells.” Yuan Se, on the right, had even directly transformed into his Xuanwu original form, attempting to slip out through a crack in the window. The little black snake even disliked the tortoise’s slow crawling, flicking its tongue in dissatisfaction.

But the next second, he was grabbed by the person behind him. “How can you skip class?” Yuan Shunhua had a sincere, earnest look on her face. “Today is the academy assessment! It’s the best time to test our five years of learning. We must take it seriously and demonstrate our true abilities.”

The other four: “…” You have the nerve to say that? It’s as if the person who only shows up two or three days a year isn’t you.

The little black snake, however, showed no dissatisfaction. It rubbed its head against Yuan Shunhua’s finger, very well-behaved. Ling Qi looked to her right, and the person holding the snake even winked at her. She was momentarily speechless.

Footsteps sounded from far away. Yuan Shunhua put down the little black snake. The little snake obediently crawled onto the tortoise shell, then transformed back into human form and sat back in its seat. Yuan Se’s human form was that of a twelve or thirteen-year-old, with two horn-shaped hair buns tied on each side of his head, adorned with silk ribbons, and a small lock of hair hanging down on each side.

Yuan Shunhua gently pinched Yuan Se’s hair bun, finally sitting down to Ling Qi’s left under Ling Qi’s speechless gaze. “Later, if the questions are too difficult…” Ling Qi thought she wanted to copy her answers and flatly refused, “Today is the best time to test our five years of learning. We must take it seriously and demonstrate our true abilities.”

Yuan Shunhua: “…”

Ying Huaiyu, diagonally in front, couldn’t help but let out a “pffft” of laughter, then, enduring Yuan Shunhua’s angry glare, turned to look out the window, pretending she heard nothing. But her shoulders were still slightly shaking.

“I mean, if the questions are too difficult, I won’t do them. I’ll just wait for you outside, and we can go to the East Sea to play.”

Ling Qi: “…” I really thought you were going to turn over a new leaf.

Unhurried footsteps approached, and everyone looked up together. The newcomer held a stack of papers, her plain long gown hanging to her ankles, a loose sash tied around her waist that, though not tight, did not appear messy. Her hair was casually swept up, with a few stray strands falling by her ears. It was none other than Emperor Qingyuan.

She slowly ambled in, leaned against the wall, her eyes curving into a smile. “It’s about to begin.”

After receiving the papers, Ling Qi realized that besides some basic immortal cultivation principles and rules, the questions were densely packed with transformation spells, defensive formations, teleportation techniques… She was somewhat surprised and subconsciously looked to her left. But Yuan Shunhua sat quietly in her seat, answering the questions, and didn’t notice her gaze.

After completing the written exam, the martial arts competition immediately followed. Ling Qi, relying on the muscle memory gained from years of group brawls, successfully won third place in this academy assessment. She was only surpassed by the diligent student Ying Baizang and the talented Yuan Xihe. Regarding her performance, Emperor Qingyuan’s evaluation was: “Very promising. If she hadn’t been led astray by Yuan Shunhua, skipping classes every day to go play, she definitely would have come in first.”

Ling Qi: …To be honest, that’s not necessarily true.

She was about to explain when Yuan Shunhua grabbed her wrist and ran out without looking back, shouting as she ran, “Mom, we’re going to the East Sea to play—!” Her voice still echoed around the academy, but she was already gone.

It wasn’t until they ran out of the academy gates that Ling Qi finally caught her breath and asked: “Why didn’t you explain?” When the person holding her wrist turned around, Ling Qi’s brow furrowed. It was clearly the same face, the same features and smile, yet at this moment, it suddenly seemed very unfamiliar.

Yuan Shunhua still smiled. “Because I like Ling Qiqi.” “It’s the kind of… like where I want to be serious about being together, you know.” It was clearly Yuan Shunhua’s tone. Calling her “Ling Qiqi” every other word, and like the Emperor, she liked to add “you know” at the end of her sentences. But Ling Qi’s face suddenly sank. Her lips were tightly pursed, her brow furrowed, and her entire demeanor turned cold.

“Who are you?” Ling Qi asked very directly. The person’s smile froze on her face. “Ling Qiqi, what are you talking about?”

Ling Qi didn’t waste any more words with her. With a flick of her wrist, her long sword was directly unsheathed, its light aimed straight at the person’s heart. The sword tip had barely touched the person’s clothes when the figure suddenly dispersed like smoke, vanishing from the spot.

Boom— The next second, the academy’s pillars not far away also began to crack. The entire academy suddenly collapsed, and the distant mountains, rivers, lakes, and seas silently disintegrated. The sword in Ling Qi’s hand still hung in mid-air. The floating clouds beneath her feet even began to collapse, and everything vanished before her eyes like fading ink. Only a vast emptiness remained between heaven and earth.

Ling Qi’s memories gradually returned. Recalling everything that had just happened, she shook her head helplessly. How could it be that after thousands of years, the scenes in the illusion hadn’t changed?

“Because your desires and obsessions have never changed.” A voice suddenly appeared from the horizon, calm and clear, even with a hint of confusion. “How do you manage to discover it so quickly every time?” This was the third time Wuxu had simulated the same scene. Unlike before, this time it even waited until they ran out of the academy before truly beginning to change the story’s direction. Even without any memories, Ling Qi could still detect the problem with the very first sentence, even the first glance.

“Because it’s impossible for her to love me.” Ling Qi answered very directly. “I wouldn’t even dare to dream such a dream.”

Wuxu: “…” Do you need to say it with such a proud tone?

Soon, the voice from the horizon disappeared. Ling Qi’s vision turned black, and the next second, her consciousness returned to the cave. Her hand was still resting on the door, but when she looked back, there was no one behind her. Ling Qi slowly walked into the stone door. Inside, there were only stone walls, nothing else, completely empty. She leaned her back against the stone wall and let out a long sigh.

When Emperor Qingyuan first rebuilt the academy, Ling Qi had been worried. Because she possessed the lowest-grade immortal bone and the most inferior talent. Memories of being abandoned in the mortal realm in her youth made her constantly apprehensive—she was afraid of being last, afraid of being mocked and bullied. Even though she was already so familiar with them at the time, she still felt a bone-deep fear of attending classes. Later, she realized that her worries were superfluous. She simply didn’t have time to go to the academy.

Yuan Shunhua was the least able to settle down and study. Relying on her talent, which far surpassed everyone else’s, and relying on her status as the Vermilion Bird Lord, she ran amok in the Upper Realm. She would interfere in any injustice she saw and try to rescue anyone in distress, which meant Ling Qi had no choice but to follow her and develop her own skills. Later, she learned that part of Yuan Shunhua’s reason for doing this was actually for her, though she never admitted it.

She always smiled at Ling Qiqi, looking innocent: “It was so long ago, I really don’t remember anything.”

…

“…I really don’t remember anything.” In the vast void, An Jin was patiently explaining to Wuxu why her illusion was completely blank.