Twist of Fate (GL) - Chapter 11

After Xie Jing had been reading aloud for about ten minutes, the senior sister signaled for her to pause and take a break before continuing.

The senior played a song, then muted the microphone and looked at Xie Jing. “I didn’t expect you to be this talented. You didn’t stumble at all and weren’t even nervous.”

Xie Jing smiled. “Thank you for the compliment.”

“But tell me, junior—did you join the broadcasting club back in high school? Is that why you’re so skilled?”

“No, I was just a guild leader in a game.” Xie Jing was no naïve pushover like Zhou Yan claimed. Online, she was the queen bee—strategically commanding 24 members to rush leaderboards one moment and ruthlessly scolding underperforming actors out of the guild the next.

She had been fearlessly commanding military-uniformed teammates in major battles with voice chat since elementary school. By middle school, she was leading dungeon raids with a crisp, youthful loli voice, guiding players old enough to be her aunts and uncles.

At the time, random players often asked if she used a voice changer—her voice sounded no older than twelve. Tired of explaining, she just let people assume and jokingly called herself a “30-something-year-old loli-con who only loves loli voices.”

Her online friends used to crack up over that, especially since they’d helped their “30-something guild leader” with her middle school homework in group chats.

She was, after all, no more than thirteen at the time.

As she played more, even after entering high school, she kept in touch with those guild members, often asking for help with English homework and even trying to command raid mechanics in English.

She had successfully turned learning into play—studying while gaming.

Thanks to her early immersion in the online world, Xie Jing had no stage fright, even in front of large audiences. Reading a script live during a school event was nothing—child’s play, really.

“No wonder,” the senior sighed with some regret. “Had I known, I wouldn’t have made you spend so long winding cables. What a waste of talent.”

Winding cables was indeed a test of endurance. At first, Xie Jing had found it dull—wind, unwind, repeat—with zero technical content. She nearly quit the club over it. Fortunately, she stuck it out.

After a month of cable duty, her stamina had improved significantly.

She’d become the Queen of the Cables.

After chatting a bit more, Xie Jing resumed reading the script.

As noon approached, the senior offered to treat her to lunch as a thank-you for helping. Xie Jing politely tried to decline but eventually gave in—and discreetly sent a message to her dorm group chat.

One Big Happy Family (4)

Fourth Sis: Senior Yue from the broadcasting club is treating me to lunch. You two don’t have to wait for me. @Big Sis (Zhou Yan) @Third Sis (Qin Ning)

Third Sis (Qin Ning): 1

Big Sis (Zhou Yan): You’ve abandoned me. You’ve found someone new and forgotten your old flame.

Amused by Zhou Yan’s dramatic reply, Xie Jing sent a sneaky dog emoji in response.

Big Sis (Zhou Yan): Now you’re brushing me off with emojis? Not even an explanation? Just cuteness overload?

Big Sis (Zhou Yan): Let’s divorce, you heartbreaker.

Big Sis (Zhou Yan): I’m keeping the child.

Fourth Sis: God-tier drama.

After sending the message, Xie Jing put away her phone.

She had always eaten and attended classes with Zhou Yan. But after the day she had a fever and Qin Ning took care of her, the two of them had grown closer. Since then, they often ate together too, so she made sure to notify both.

As for Chen Yuan, she remained a lone wolf, focused solely on earning credits. Apart from some brief evening chatter before bed, there was almost no interaction.

“Were you just chatting with your boyfriend?” the senior asked casually, noticing the smile lingering on Xie Jing’s lips.

“No, no! I don’t have a boyfriend,” Xie Jing shook her head vigorously. “Just messaged my roommates in our dorm group, telling them not to wait for me.”

The senior looked her up and down, surprised. “Aren’t you in the computer science department? That department’s already short on girls—and with your looks, how are you still single?”

Xie Jing gave a dry chuckle, lowered her head shyly. “I guess… I just haven’t met the right person yet.”

The senior studied her a moment longer, assuming she simply had high standards, then nodded and said no more.

They went to the second floor of the cafeteria and got claypot rice. The food from that stall was particularly good. Xie Jing had been there once before with Qin Ning and found the taste reminiscent of home.

While eating, Xie Jing suddenly felt a tap on her shoulder. She looked up and was caught off guard by a familiar face—Shen Xinghe.

She held a tray in her hands and looked down at her with a smile. “Hey, Xie Jing.”

Her eyes lit up. “What a coincidence! You’re having claypot rice too?”

“Yeah.” Shen Xinghe nodded, then looked across at the senior. “Senior Yue, do you mind if I sit here?”

“Sure! You two know each other?” Yue Shiyu looked between them in surprise.

“We’re high school classmates. Fate brought us together again, far from home,” Xie Jing said with a grin, scooting over to make space.

Shen Xinghe was from the dance club and had borrowed audio equipment from Yue Shiyu before, so she remembered her well.

Both Shen Xinghe and Xie Jing had classic southern features—big eyes, delicate faces, fair skin, and gentle voices that brought to mind the softness of the Jiangnan region.

As a northern girl, Yue Shiyu found just watching them a visual treat.

“The photos and videos from last time are edited and should be posted on the school’s WeChat account next week,” Shen Xinghe said. “Xie Jing, make sure you check them out.”

Xie Jing nodded eagerly. “Definitely, I’ll watch when I have time.”

Shen Xinghe smiled and focused on her meal. Yue Shiyu, meanwhile, kept sneaking glances at Xie Jing. Ever since Shen Xinghe arrived, she hadn’t stopped smiling—grinning so wide her eyes nearly disappeared.

She looked very happy.

“I’m full,” Xie Jing said, putting down her spoon and dabbing her mouth with a tissue.

Yue Shiyu and Shen Xinghe also finished their meals shortly after.

That afternoon, Xie Jing didn’t have to help with broadcasting, so she returned to the dorm.

It was Friday, and Zhou Yan and Chen Yuan were packing to go home for the weekend. Qin Ning sat cross-armed in her chair watching a documentary.

When Xie Jing came in, Qin Ning didn’t even glance at her—she just reached back and handed her a drink.

Xie Jing blinked, then looked at the bottle. Four bold characters stood out: Rock Sugar Snow Pear.

“It’s for you,” Qin Ning said casually.

“Damn, you’re so thoughtful! I was just feeling thirsty—today’s claypot rice had way too much soy sauce.” Xie Jing was moved. She hugged Qin Ning and peeked at her colorful profile, curious. “How did you know I love snow pear drinks?”

“Admit it, girl~ You’re falling for your big sis~”

Qin Ning: “…”

Xie Jing’s drama mode kicked in. She stood up solemnly, held the bottle over her head like a trophy, and declared, “As of today, Qin Ning is my sworn sister!”

The room went dead silent.

Chen Yuan: “God… God-tier drama.”

Qin Ning: “My silence is deafening.”

Just then, Zhou Yan emerged from the bathroom and caught Xie Jing’s outrageous declaration. With a blank face, she pulled out a bottle of the exact same drink from her drawer and slapped it on the table. “Qin

Ning gave one to each of us. She said the campus convenience store was having a sale. She bought too many and doesn’t want them to expire.”

Xie Jing: “…”

Her face turned as red as a tomato. So, she’d been overthinking it—she thought Qin Ning had bought the drink just for her, out of appreciation for her morning work.

But no.

Still holding the bottle with a tomato-red face and an equally flushed neck, she took a sip and thought, It’s fine. Life’s short anyway.

Anyone know where to buy tickets to Mars?

“Hahahaha, I can’t take it—Xie Jing, you’re too adorable,” Zhou Yan finally burst into laughter, clutching her stomach. Her eyes were tearing up.

She looked up at Xie Jing sipping her drink and, overcome by a wave of maternal affection, lunged forward and gave her a vigorous hug, messing up her bangs in the process.

Now a single tuft of hair stood awkwardly upright on Xie Jing’s head. Face full of despair, she glanced at her roommates, then darted to her bed like her butt was on fire and passed out for a nap.

She slept for nearly two hours. By the time she woke up, Zhou Yan and Chen Yuan had already left.

The dorm was quiet. The curtains on the balcony were half-drawn, splitting the room into light and shadow. Xie Jing peeked through her bed curtain and saw Qin Ning reading in the sunlit part of the room.

“You’re not taking a nap?” Xie Jing asked, voice husky with sleep.

“I dozed for ten minutes,” Qin Ning replied, then got up and opened the curtains fully. Afternoon sunlight flooded the room.

Xie Jing hopped off the bed and took a sip of her drink. Just as she was about to sit down and turn on her laptop, she suddenly heard the sound of meowing.

Their dorm was on the second floor—no way there could be a cat inside. She rushed to the balcony, leaned on the railing, and sure enough, saw an orange tabby rolling on the lawn.

“Qin Ning! Qin Ning, come look—is that the orange kitty we saw the other night?” she called, waving frantically.

Qin Ning came over, glanced down, and nodded. “It’s the one.”

“The weather’s so nice, and it’s the weekend. Why don’t we take it to get vaccinated?” The day after they first saw it, Xie Jing had asked around and learned from upperclassmen that the kitten wasn’t even a year old, hadn’t been neutered, and hadn’t gotten its shots.

“Okay.” Qin Ning pulled out her phone and started making arrangements. She borrowed a cat carrier and ordered a rush delivery of cat food and treats, planning to lure the cat in to avoid getting scratched.

But to their surprise, the kitten was very tame—probably used to being petted by students. Before Qin Ning even opened the treat, it climbed into the carrier and rolled around.

“Meow~”

“This kitty is too well-behaved,” Xie Jing exclaimed. “So obedient!”

Qin Ning zipped the carrier closed with quick hands. “Mm.”

“Let’s name it,” Xie Jing suggested. “Since it’s so obedient, how about we call it Xiao Guai? (Little Goodie)”

Qin Ning nodded. “Sounds good.”

“Then it’s settled!” Xie Jing tapped the carrier window with her knuckle, grinning. “Xiao Guai, time to go get your shots!”

To show her commitment, she insisted on carrying the cat herself. But she hadn’t even made it to the school gate before she was drenched in sweat, her shirt soaked and clinging to her waist.

Without a word, Qin Ning took the carrier from her and slung it over her own shoulder.

Then she boarded the bus first—and tapped both their cards.