I Fell In Love With My Rival (GL) - Chapter 15
The moment Su Chunyin called her “sister,” she was so embarrassed that she immediately averted her gaze, not daring to look at Fu Erqiu at all. When one sense is cut off, the others grow more acute—she could distinctly feel Fu Erqiu leaning in closer, her presence radiating a gentle warmth.
Fu Erqiu reached out and pulled the worksheet from under Su Chunyin’s elbow, her voice not exactly gentle:
“Which question?”
Su Chunyin was momentarily dazed. Only when Fu Erqiu began to pull back impatiently did she hurriedly grab her wrist and stammer, “Question 3 of Section 4.”
It was a conic section problem. Fu Erqiu didn’t hesitate—she immediately began writing formulas beside Su Chunyin’s messy attempt at a solution.
“Conic sections follow consistent patterns. As long as you understand the concepts—intersection points, intersecting lines, areas, range of values—you can plug them into the appropriate formulas.”
She picked up a blue pen and started marking the diagram and problem, patiently explaining as she went. Then, after glancing at Su Chunyin’s scratch work, she cut right to the point:
“You didn’t even memorize the formulas. If you had, you could’ve solved at least the first sub-question.”
Fu Erqiu returned to the counter, pulled out a fresh notebook, and began writing down all the key formulas and patterns related to conic sections. Then she handed it to Su Chunyin.
“Memorize this. I’ll test you tomorrow.”
Su Chunyin, now slightly dazed from the whole interaction, instinctively accepted the notebook and mumbled, “Okay.”
It wasn’t until a while later that she realized—wait, she hadn’t actually come here to study. How had she ended up with a whole set of formulas to memorize?
That said, Fu Erqiu’s explanations had been clear. Even though Su Chunyin had been distracted, she understood about 70–80% of it. Looking at the newly written formula notes, she hesitated for a few seconds, then decided to keep them.
That evening, sprawled across her bed, Su Chunyin took dozens of pictures of her test paper and the formula notebook, carefully selected two that looked best, and nonchalantly posted them in the group chat for the “Chirpy Study Support Squad”:
[@Yuxia, Yuxia, strongest in Class 3—here’s your breakdown of Section 4, Q3, direct from a top student 🖼️🖼️]
Yuxia was still awake and promptly lost it in the chat:
[I knew it, Chirpy! Fu the Genius really does explain things clearly. Everything finally makes sense! Quick, quick—can I get her breakdown of English Q23 and Physics Section 3 too?]
Song Rao spammed the chat with knife emojis:
[Oh, so when I explain, you can’t understand, but when Fu Erqiu writes a few formulas, it’s suddenly crystal clear?]
Yuxia fired back with a string of playful emojis:
[Your explanations are for people who score like you. Fu the Genius tailors her notes to underachievers like us. Way easier to follow. Chirpy, you better cling tight to Fu’s thigh. Who cares about friendship—what we really want are those formula breakdowns.]
Su Chunyin typed out a reply but deleted it halfway when Song Rao added:
[Please. If Chirpy and Fu become friends, doesn’t that make her your friend too? Why bother with screenshots then? Just call her over to tutor us in person.]
So, Su Chunyin simply responded:
[True that.]
After a round of joking and laughing, drowsiness began to take hold. As Su Chunyin turned off her phone and prepared for sleep, she couldn’t stop thinking about the moment she called Fu Erqiu “sister.”
She hadn’t seen Fu Erqiu’s reaction—what must she have thought? Su Chunyin imagined all kinds of possibilities. Surely, she must’ve liked it. Otherwise, why would she explain the question so thoroughly and even insist she memorize formulas?
Thinking of Fu Erqiu’s usually cold expression, Su Chunyin clicked her tongue in her mind.
Who knew that someone so serious-looking would actually be this kind of person?
The next day, when Su Chunyin went to see Fu Erqiu again, the first thing she did was check if she had memorized the formulas. Still caught up in the thrill of “mastering” Fu’s weak spot, Su Chunyin hadn’t actually looked at the notebook.
When tested, she mumbled and fumbled, unable to recite anything properly—and was promptly punished by being made to stand in the corner and memorize with her math book held over her head.
Su Chunyin had never been serious about studying, much less about memorizing math formulas. Every time she thought she’d finally memorized a part, Fu Erqiu’s random checks would make her nervous and blank out—it was like reliving a recurring nightmare.
After struggling for a while, her mouth dry and her back aching, she thought about sitting down but was afraid Fu Erqiu would notice.
Why on earth am I actually studying? she thought. I only came here to make friends!
She held out for a bit longer before sneaking onto a chair. Just then, Fu Erqiu finished handing a customer their cleaned clothes and glanced in her direction.
The moment Fu Erqiu looked over, Su Chunyin stiffened. That cold, unreadable gaze made her so anxious she blurted out:
“Jie… Jie, I didn’t mean to slack off.”
And then, before she could stop herself:
“Jie Jie, my back’s sore and my mouth’s dry. I really can’t memorize anymore.”
Fu Erqiu turned away, seemingly lost in thought, then returned with a kettle.
“It’s just-boiled water. Don’t drink tea—you won’t be able to sleep tonight.”
Su Chunyin blinked. It took her a second to realize—Fu Erqiu was responding to her complaints!
Steam rose as Fu Erqiu poured water into a cup, slightly blurring their faces. Su Chunyin cupped her chin in her hands and stared at her. She’d seen Fu Erqiu countless times, but each time those aloof eyes seemed to command attention. Now, softened by the haze of steam, they appeared misty and gentle—a different kind of beauty that made Su Chunyin momentarily dazed.
It wasn’t until Fu Erqiu picked up the kettle and returned to the counter that Su Chunyin came back to her senses.
The water was still too hot to drink, so Su Chunyin quickly trotted over to her side—not to help, just to watch. She stood there silently, watching Fu Erqiu sort through clothes and press the creases out of a shirt.
Eventually, Fu Erqiu noticed and glanced over.
“What are you staring at?”
As she spoke, she leaned in slightly, reducing the distance between them. A few stray hairs, loosened by her busy movements, brushed against Su Chunyin’s nose.
Su Chunyin’s nose twitched. She didn’t dare move, only shifting her gaze.
“Of course I’m staring—you’re too pretty not to look at.”
Her tone was unrestrained, with a hint of teasing. But Fu Erqiu didn’t react much—she simply hummed in acknowledgment.
Su Chunyin found the lack of reaction boring and shrugged, preparing to walk away. Suddenly, Fu Erqiu reached out and gently wiped the corner of her mouth with her fingertip. Her eyes briefly lingered on her lips before turning away.
“Crumb. You had a biscuit crumb on your face.”
Su Chunyin froze, momentarily dumbfounded. It took her a moment to stammer out two soft “oh”s. Her foot, which had hovered midair, finally touched down, while her face lit up in a burst of embarrassed pink that spread faster than her brain could keep up with.