The Beautiful Older Sister I Picked Up Is Good at Flirting - Chapter 33
Chapter 33
A growing swirl of questions crowded Shen Tian’s mind. Unable to endure it any longer, she stepped silently onto the corridor, found her angle, and collided full-on with Fan Zhen, who was hurrying ahead with her head bowed.
“Ah—oh, I’m so sorry! My heel got stuck and I lost my balance—are you okay?” Shen Tian pretended to stumble, gripping Fan Zhen’s arms and pulling her close.
The moment their hands clasped, Fan Zhen sensed Shen Tian leaning in to sniff the back of her neck. From the very first glance, Fan Zhen had found this Omega’s smile unsettlingly artificial—like her scheming sister-in-law, raised only by stiff muscles around the mouth, chillingly unnatural. She snapped on guard, smoothed down her Omega traits, firmly pressed her strong isolation pad—and forced a polite smile.
“I’m fine. Miss Shen, are you alright? Did you sprain your ankle? Want me to help you back to the foyer?”
“No, no… I can manage.” Shen Tian insisted, though her body swayed as she leaned her head on Fan Zhen’s shoulder, sniffing the air.
Fan Zhen stood confidently tall. Shen Tian leaned into her, sniffed a few times—no trace of Omega pheromone. Normally, even with a pad, someone that close would exude some scent, and Omegas are especially sensitive. It reassured Shen Tian that Fan Zhen must be a Beta. A beautiful Beta. No wonder Fu Siyu looked at her twice.
“Phew,” Shen Tian relaxed, letting a gentle smile slip out—just as Fang Songxian’s loud voice rang out. Shen Tian hastily tugged her away. “Alright, let’s go. Let her rest, okay?” She’d been scolded out of Fu Siyu’s presence once already; staying any longer would be pointless. Fang shot Fu Siyu an angry look before dragging Shen Tian off.
…
Fan Zhen carried the heavy medicinal brew upstairs. Exiting the internal elevator, she paused to check her reflection in a dark mirror, unbuttoned the top two buttons of her maid uniform to slightly reveal her collarbone, then knocked.
Entering the bedroom, she saw Fu Siyu leaning against the headboard, long legs crossed, scrolling her phone. Hearing the knock, Fu Siyu glanced up with those slender almond eyes—just a quick look—then returned to silence. Not like her usual self, rushing over to cling to Fan Zhen.
Fan Zhen’s heart sank. The little terror was definitely sulking. Tsk—temperamental little beast.
She sighed. That candy had been taken by Fang, not offered by her. And Fan Zhen didn’t want a physical confrontation, especially with height differences and Alpha vs Omega dynamics. Besides, it hadn’t started—Fang had chased this storm herself.
But next moment, seeing Fu Siyu’s tense lips made Fan Zhen soft again. Soon she couldn’t stand seeing her unhappy. The moment Fu Siyu frowned, Fan Zhen felt a pang in her heart.
She put the tray down quietly and approached the bed, pressing one leg on the edge, bending slightly to lean in. Fu Siyu smelled her approach, stiffened her wrist, fighting the urge to turn—protecting Fan Zhen’s identity in public. But every time Fang buzzed around her like a bee, Fu Siyu felt deeply uneasy.
Fan Zhen had only agreed to be her friend—Fu Siyu was still insecure. Today, she was determined to push “friend” into “girlfriend.” With no response, Fan Zhen lowered her voice:
“What’s wrong?”
“No—nothing.” Fu Siyu turned her face away, avoiding her touch.
Fan Zhen bit her lip, calmly explaining, “I didn’t give her the candy…”
Fu Siyu’s tone was unusually cold: “You think I care about a candy?” She fixed her gaze on Fan Zhen, persistence shining through, “Sister… will you be my girlfriend?”
Fan Zhen froze. “I—I thought we were just friends?”
“That’s different.” Fu Siyu’s eyes reddened. “Girlfriend… then wife… just mine.”
Fan Zhen blinked, tears collecting, heart pounding. Wife?
She also wanted to be Fu Siyu’s wife. But the damned marriage agreement… In their country, an AO marriage contract carried semi-legal weight, rarely broken unless formally annulled. Her family valued face more than anything, and if word spread she was seeing Fu Siyu while betrothed to Song Lan, it would be a scandal—and Fu Siyu would be affected too.
She didn’t argue further. “Let’s take the medicine first?”
Fu Siyu mumbled, burrowed under the covers. “Not taking it.”
Fan Zhen trembled slightly. “But if you don’t take it, your illness could get worse.”
From beneath the blanket came a muffled voice: “Then let it—let me die. No one would mourn me anyway.”
That had to be sulking talk. Fan Zhen stood and glared at the back of Fu Siyu’s head. How could she go from aloof glacier to this whining creature? Yet every word stabbed at her heart.
She tiptoed up and from behind hugged Fu Siyu, resting her cheek on her neck, voice gentle and soothing: “Yixiaozai… don’t talk like that, it hurts me too.”
Their proximity made Fu Siyu’s heart race—she nearly turned and clung back. She bit her lip, stubbornly silent, but her faint reddened cheeks betrayed her.
Fan Zhen pressed harder, hand sliding down to her waist, then clasped her arm and tenderly called out, “Yizai… are you really ignoring me?”
Fu Siyu struggled, then relaxed, feeling like a dog being petted. Spellbound. Furious at herself for melting so easily.
She turned her head, glaring—and yet relenting.
Fan Zhen smiled triumphantly, cupped her face, softly pressed her lips to Fu Siyu’s. Fu Siyu didn’t resist—she responded, their kiss tender, teasing, the slow build of passion blossoming.
When they pulled away, both were breathless. Fu Siyu’s eyes fell on the slightly unbuttoned uniform revealing pale collarbones, even across a strap. And hints of bitten fruit beneath—distant but tempting.
Fu Siyu, caught in the spell, slipped her hand to reveal more. It reminded her of a chocolate-coated sponge roll with berries—a sweet temptation. Her fingertip trembled. She couldn’t resist tasting this “dessert.”
Fan Zhen watched with bashful delight. The soft fruit-scent lingered. Fu Siyu’s rational mind fought restraint, but instinct won: she lifted her head to taste it. Soft, meltingly so. Delicious.
Drawn beneath Fan Zhen’s neck, her voice hushed: “Are you… forgiven me?”
Fan Zhen reddened, wrapping an arm around her neck, voice tremulous: “Yes?”
Fu Siyu paused, enjoying. But Fan Zhen feared her wound might be hurt again, so she gently held her cheek and said, “Yizai… please… don’t be angry with me anymore?”
Fu Siyu’s defenses melted. She brushed lashes and buried her face in Fan Zhen’s neck, whispering: “Then… girlfriend… why won’t you be my girlfriend? Did I do something wrong?”
Fan Zhen closed eyes, eyelashes damp. You’re not wrong—you’re the best Alpha I’ve ever seen. Fu Siyu’s love was steadfast, pure. Rejection didn’t push her away; she searched for reasons and tried to change for her.
Fan Zhen wiped her tears gently, “Give me one month—I promise anything—okay?”
She’d asked Jiang Mingxiao to convince her father to cancel the engagement with Song Lan within three months. If she succeeded, in another month Fan Zhen would be fully free to accept Fu Siyu.
Fu Siyu’s eyes brightened. She grabbed Fan Zhen’s wrist. “Sister… will you be my girlfriend then?”
Fan Zhen cleared her throat, hesitated—and seeing Fu Siyu’s hopeful gaze, couldn’t refuse. “…Okay.”
It was so easy to give in.
Fu Siyu beamed and hugged her tight, pressing cheek to neck, “Why wait a month? Why not now?”
Fan Zhen tapped her forehead playfully: “You know there’s a probation period at work. I have one too. I have to prove I can do this.”
Fu Siyu nuzzled and teased her, sliding straps, warm breath against cool skin, smiling, “My girlfriend…”
Kisses traced inch by inch on her cheek. Fu Siyu whispered: “I promise to take good care of you.”
Fan Zhen laughed softly at the sizzling warmth but teased: “If you don’t take your medicine, you might not last probation.”
Startled, Fu Siyu bolted up, trembling, almost falling: “Medicine? Yes—please give me the medicine.”
Fan Zhen smiled as she dressed her, calling teasingly: “So now you don’t want to die, huh?”
Fu Siyu snatched the spicy-sweet brew and drank it in one go. “I don’t want to die—my girlfriend is mine. I want to get better fast, so I can be cared for.”
Fan Zhen took off a fruit candy and gently offered it—Fu Siyu popped it in and mumbled, “Sis, pass me that book on ‘Nameology’.”
Fan Zhen turned and saw a thick book titled “Nameology.” Curious, she asked, “That’s about names?”
Fu Siyu leaned back, smiling: “Only girl‑Alpha and girl‑Omega pairings can produce girls. According to our Fu family naming traditions, the next generation’s name should begin with ‘Qing’…”
She picked a candy while talking: “Sister, do you like ‘Qing Zhi’ or ‘Qing Jia’? ‘Zhi’ means noble, ‘Jia’ means beautiful. Both are good—but I hope our child will be as gentle as you.”
Fan Zhen nearly spat out her candy at that. “Our… child?”
Fu Siyu fiddled with the candy, bright-eyed: “I was thinking of ‘Chao’ and ‘Mu,’ as in dawn and dusk… poetic, but the book says paired words suit twins.”
She blushed and corrected herself: “Oh, I shouldn’t make decisions alone—sister, you choose the name. I’ll follow whichever you like.”
Fan Zhen flung the book at her in exasperation, cheeks flaming. “Let’s get through probation first—I can’t even promise whether I’ll qualify for real.”
Fu Siyu plopped back onto the pillow, covering her arm theatrically: “Sister, did you hit me? It hurts…”
Fan Zhen observed her with a sigh—her intellect abandoned at Fu Siyu’s acting.
She rushed to her, examined the arm with genuine care: “Are you okay? I didn’t mean to—let me check…”
Fu Siyu wrapped an arm around Fan Zhen, brushing against her ear, a low hum escaping: “Sister… we’ll pick one name now—and the second when we… have our second baby…”
Fan Zhen realized the trick and swatted her hand away: “Who said we’re having a second? Don’t get carried away.” 😳
Fu Siyu pouted, “If you don’t want a second, then let’s try for twins. I like ‘ChaoChao’ and ‘MuMu’—doubles!”
Fan Zhen scoffed: “Like that’s possible! You’re delusional.” And she dashed from the room, heart pounding, but her smile was as sweet and tender as a crescent moon in a night sky.