Twist of Fate (GL) - Chapter 26

“My calf really hurts. I think it’s a cramp,” Xie Jing winced, on the verge of tears. She was sure she had warmed up properly on the shore—how could she still have a cramp?

“You might be calcium deficient,” Qin Ning said, carrying her ashore and gently laying her leg flat on the ground. She began to massage it slowly. “How is it? Still hurting?”

Xie Jing was soaked to the bone, her eyes red like a little rabbit. She nodded. “It’s a bit better now.”

“Just relax,” Qin Ning said seriously, her expression focused. Her movements were efficient and clean, without a hint of hesitation.

“Whoa, Xie Jing, what happened to you?” Zhou Yan had swum a lap and, not seeing the girls, came looking.

“She overexerted herself and got a cramp,” Xie Jing muttered, thinking she really should’ve stayed calm in the water. Now she was practically limping.

“Oh… then let me help too!” Zhou Yan rubbed her hands together and was about to reach for Xie Jing’s leg when Qin Ning stopped her cold.

“Only one leg cramped.”

Zhou Yan withdrew her hand awkwardly and, instead, watched Qin Ning’s technique with curiosity. “Your massage skills are surprisingly good, Qin Ning! Did you secretly go study this?”

“No,” Qin Ning replied calmly. “I have elderly family members at home. After doing it enough, you get good at it.”

Zhou Yan nodded in understanding. “Makes sense.”

After about ten minutes of massage, Xie Jing’s back wasn’t sore, and her leg felt much better. But the incident had dampened her enthusiasm for swimming, so she changed into dry clothes and returned to the poolside to watch Qin Ning and the others swim—and to learn.

The longer she watched, the more her thoughts drifted. Qin Ning had such a great figure—curves in all the right places, long legs, and a beautiful face. She was perfect from every angle.

As for Zhou Yan… Xie Jing squinted at her for a moment before quietly shifting her gaze elsewhere. Zhou Yan was undeniably gorgeous, but her taste was… unique. She wore a seaweed-green swimsuit that made her look like a piece of kelp drifting with the tide.

Qin Ning didn’t swim for long and soon came ashore. Zhou Yan left right after her swim to attend a club meeting.

On the way back to the dorm, Xie Jing suddenly asked, “Qin Ning, you never told me why you suddenly transferred up north.”

Earlier, during the massage, Qin Ning had mentioned having elderly family members. Could that be the reason?

Xie Jing wasn’t sure why, but as soon as she asked, she sensed something shift in Qin Ning’s expression—like she’d touched on a painful memory.

Just as Xie Jing was about to backtrack and say it was fine if she didn’t want to talk about it, Qin Ning unexpectedly dropped a bombshell that left her utterly stunned.

“My parents died in an accident when I was very young. My grandmother raised me all on her own.”
“When I was fourteen, a group of people from Jinghai came to tell me I was the long-lost daughter of the Fang family and wanted me to reunite with them.”

Xie Jing was shocked. Qin Ning’s life sounded more dramatic than a TV show.

“Oh… so that’s how it is… But wait, didn’t you leave Jiangcheng after graduating middle school?” Fourteen was still during middle school, wasn’t it?

“Yes,” Qin Ning said. “I refused to go with them at the time. A year later, my grandmother had a sudden accident, and they found me again, hoping I’d return to Jinghai with them.”

By then, Grandma Qin was in her sixties and not as strong as before. While selling grilled corn one day, she collapsed on the street. A kind passerby took her to the hospital, where she was diagnosed with a stroke.

The doctors said she needed surgery—and it would be very expensive.

So, Qin Ning had no choice but to go to Jinghai. Once her grandmother’s condition stabilized, Qin Ning enrolled in a private high school there. But because her switch was due to a baby swap incident, the Fang family already had a daughter established in the household. Qin Ning never officially entered the family registry and kept her surname.

Over the years, Grandma Qin remained in a nursing home. Qin Ning would visit her when she could, though her grandmother no longer recognized her.

“I didn’t expect your background to be so complicated,” Xie Jing murmured. She’d once thought Qin Ning was a bit too cold, but now she understood—losing both parents, growing up with just her grandmother, and later being uprooted—anyone would grow distant after such upheaval.

Qin Ning looked at her, her eyes clear as glass. She smiled. “Honestly, I don’t think it’s that complicated. If anything, the mix-up let me meet my family, my grandmother… and you.”

If she hadn’t grown up in Jiangcheng, she wouldn’t have met Xie Jing. And if she hadn’t met Xie Jing, she wouldn’t now be her girlfriend. Grandma wouldn’t have become her grandma either.

So maybe everything had been guided by fate all along.

Xie Jing was moved by Qin Ning’s openness and stopped feeling regretful. Even if she’d grown up in a small town, Qin Ning still turned out to be exceptional. Gold shines no matter where it is.

Back in their dorm room, Qin Ning had just taken off her coat when Xie Jing’s phone rang. It was a call from Le Shiyu. After a brief exchange, Xie Jing hurried out.

Senior Le had called because the broadcast station had run into another issue, and Xie Jing stepped in at the last minute. She read the script with a third-year senior named Chen Xincheng. Afterward, grateful for her help, he bought her a milk tea. She tried to decline, but he insisted, so she took it back to the dorm.

After she left, the senior asked Le Shiyu for Xie Jing’s contact info and added her on WeChat. Just as she stepped into the room, the friend request came through.

[Chen Xincheng: Hi, I’m Chen Xincheng from the broadcast station.]

The dorm was empty. Xie Jing set the milk tea down, hesitated a moment, then accepted the request.

[Xie Jing: Is there another issue at the station?]

[Chen Xincheng: No, that’s not why I added you.]

[Chen Xincheng: I’ve seen your photos on the Confessions Wall many times. You look just as pretty in person.]

Xie Jing felt something was off but wasn’t sure if she was just overthinking. She didn’t want to assume too much.

[Xie Jing: Thanks for the compliment.]

Right then, Qin Ning returned—clearly fresh from the bathhouse, radiating heat, cheeks flushed from the steam. She paused when she saw the milk tea.

“A guy gave this to you?”

Xie Jing’s eyes widened. “How did you know?”

“If you bought it yourself, you wouldn’t have just gotten one,” Qin Ning said matter-of-factly. She knew Xie Jing well—it was an easy guess.

“Wow, Qin Ning, you’re amazing!” No sooner had she spoken than a new WeChat notification popped up. It was another message from that senior.

[Chen Xincheng: Are you free this weekend to see a movie with me?]

Huh?? They had barely spoken. Weren’t they far from being movie-date level acquaintances?

Xie Jing was baffled. It was just a cup of milk tea—and one she’d tried to refuse!

Qin Ning noticed her distressed look and walked over, peeking at the message. “Mind if I reply for you?” she asked.

“Not at all. Do what you want,” Xie Jing handed over her phone willingly.

Qin Ning typed a few words and handed it back.

[Xie Jing: I have plans with my partner this weekend.]

Plans? What plans? Was it that game tournament Qin Ning wanted her to duo in?

Well… she wouldn’t say no.

Xie Jing casually blocked the guy after that. No need for further entanglement.

That night, she climbed into Qin Ning’s bed again. Ever since that one time, she’d become addicted to sleeping in it, always ending up there without thinking. Qin Ning didn’t object and let her be.

The next morning, Qin Ning noticed something was off. Xie Jing’s face was flushed, and her temperature was unusually high.

She must be sick.

Qin Ning always kept cold meds in the dorm. She mixed a packet of 999 Cold Remedy and gave it to Xie Jing, then messaged her professor to request leave. She stayed in to care for her.

With Zhou Yan and Chen Yuan out for class, the dorm was quiet. Only Xie Jing’s soft breathing could be heard. Qin Ning sat at her desk watching online lectures with one earbud in, pausing now and then to check on her. But after drinking the cold medicine, Xie Jing had fallen into a deep sleep and didn’t stir at all.

It wasn’t until noon that she woke, parched. “Qin… Ning, are you there?”

“I’m here.” Qin Ning drew the curtain and handed her a glass of water. Xie Jing took a few sips and finally felt her throat ease.

“I’m so weak,” she muttered. “I cramped while swimming, and now I’ve caught a cold. But you and Zhou Yan are totally fine.” She pouted, rolling in bed, frustrated.

Qin Ning noticed her gloom and sighed softly. “Exercise more.”

Xie Jing winced at the word. She really hated physical activity. Apart from mandatory campus jogs, she never exercised. No wonder her body was so fragile.

Her cold dragged on for more than two weeks. The first week, she was listless; by the time she recovered slightly, a spring cold snap hit. Every extreme weather event seemed to take her down—like she was paying tribute to nature. So, her illnesses overlapped almost seamlessly.

Spring brought endless rain, and every time she got wet or caught a breeze, she got sick again. She spent nearly the entire second semester of her freshman year ill.

Fortunately, the semester ended, and she got to go home for summer break. Jiangcheng, being in the south, was much warmer than Jinghai. Xie Jing, who feared the cold but not the heat, rarely fell ill in summer.

Plus, her parents ran a pharmacy. Under their care, she quickly bounced back and regained all her lost energy.

By the start of sophomore year, she was once again that lively, spirited girl. But as soon as she landed back in Jinghai, her body protested—nosebleeds, high fevers, the whole works. It took more than a month for her to stabilize.