When the Tsundere Rival Turns Into a Cat - Chapter 35

The car came to a smooth stop at the school gate. Jiang Qingyue stood nearby watching Li Xingcan return and park the vehicle properly.

The day was still somewhat hot. Li Xingcan’s face was flushed, with tiny beads of sweat glistening at the tip of her nose. After parking, she took off her jacket and fanned herself with it, taking a deep breath before smiling brightly at Jiang Qingyue and waving, “Let’s go!”

Jiang Qingyue rarely saw such a radiant, lively smile—one that seemed even more dazzling than the midday sun. Her heart skipped a beat.

“Let’s go.”

Averting her gaze, Jiang Qingyue walked into the school alongside Li Xingcan.

This time, there was no need to knock out the security guard like before. Li Xingcan waved openly at the gate, “Uncle! Open up, we’re here to grab some stuff!”

Someone inside the security booth pressed a remote, and the electric gate slid open just enough for them to pass through.

“Thanks!”

Li Xingcan and Jiang Qingyue stepped inside. Without teachers or students around, the school was eerily quiet—and much more pleasant.

They crossed the main path and reached the teaching building, ascending the stairs one after the other. Once in the classroom, Jiang Qingyue went to her seat to retrieve her test papers while Li Xingcan leaned against the front door, watching.

After days of absence, a few more desks in the classroom had been cleared out. Soon, Jiang Qingyue’s desk would be empty too.

Li Xingcan observed as Jiang Qingyue meticulously sorted through the towering stack of accumulated test papers, her expression focused and serious.

As she watched, Li Xingcan couldn’t help but drift into thought. Jiang Qingyue was intelligent, cautious, patient, beautiful, and reserved—so many traits that stood in stark contrast to her own. So why did Jiang Qingyue like her?

Not that Li Xingcan thought poorly of herself—she never indulged in self-doubt—but she was genuinely curious about what Jiang Qingyue saw in her.

Soon, Jiang Qingyue finished organizing the papers into a folder and stood up, motioning to Li Xingcan at the door, “Let’s go.”

“Let’s.”

Li Xingcan casually took the folder from Jiang Qingyue’s hands.

“I can carry it myself,” Jiang Qingyue said, still unaccustomed to this version of Li Xingcan.

“It’s not heavy.”

Li Xingcan strode ahead, leaving Jiang Qingyue no choice but to let her be.

Once outside, they got back into the car and headed home. Jiang Qingyue rested her hand lightly around Li Xingcan’s waist as they rode in silence.

Upon arriving, Jiang Qingyue immediately retreated to her room with the test papers, too busy catching up on assignments to notice Li Xingcan’s hesitant expression behind her.

The housekeeper approached Li Xingcan, who was still standing in the living room, and asked, “Is Miss Jiang staying here again?”

“Yeah, for a few days,” Li Xingcan replied before turning her gaze away from Jiang Qingyue’s room. “I’ll head upstairs. Ask Jiang Qingyue what she wants for dinner.”

The housekeeper acknowledged, and Li Xingcan went to her own room—though she paused briefly outside Jiang Qingyue’s door. Before, she had thought their arrangement—living under the same roof but keeping to themselves—was perfectly fine. So why did it feel so unbearable now? She didn’t even know how to start a conversation with her.

It wasn’t until dinnertime that the two finally sat together at the same table again.

Seeing Jiang Qingyue lift her hand to rub her shoulder, Li Xingcan knew she must have spent the entire afternoon working on test papers. This girl—didn’t she know when to take a break?

“After dinner, I’ll call two masseurs over. Don’t think just because you’re young that your body doesn’t matter. If you keep this up, your neck, spine, and everything else will start giving you trouble.”

Li Xingcan spoke from experience. Back when her gaming tournament training had coincided with a programming competition, she’d spent every waking hour glued to her computer, ending each day sore and exhausted.

Jiang Qingyue gave her a strange look. “You sound like an old woman.”

Li Xingcan adopted an air of exaggerated wisdom. “Ignore an elder’s advice, and you’ll suffer the consequences. So listen to me.”

Jiang Qingyue thought it wasn’t that serious, but after dinner, Li Xingcan had already arranged for the masseurs to come, so she couldn’t refuse.

Lying side by side, the massage was nothing like the gentle touch Jiang Qingyue had imagined. When the masseur pressed into her shoulders, she clenched her teeth to keep from crying out.

“Why does it hurt so much?”

“Just relax…”

Li Xingcan tilted her head to watch Jiang Qingyue beside her. For the first time, she saw such a lively range of expressions on Jiang Qingyue’s face—biting her lip to endure the pain, stealing glances at the masseur’s hands, her furrowed brows looking pitiful. When the pressure eased, she’d let out a tiny sigh of relief. These subtle expressions were far cuter than her usual cold demeanor.

By the time the massage ended, Jiang Qingyue did feel much lighter, as if her muscles had finally loosened. Li Xingcan hadn’t lied to her.

Li Xingcan got up and walked over. “Alright, it’s getting late. Go wash up and get some sleep. We have school early tomorrow.”

“I know.”

Jiang Qingyue nodded and headed to her room.

Li Xingcan returned to her own room to freshen up. After drying her hair, she still felt uneasy. There was no way Jiang Qingyue could have finished that stack of test papers in one afternoon—knowing her, she’d probably…

Running a hand through her mostly dry hair, Li Xingcan stepped out and knocked on Jiang Qingyue’s door before pushing it open—

Sure enough, Jiang Qingyue was sitting at her desk, working on another test.

She looked up. “What is it?”

Li Xingcan never imagined that she, the one usually caught sneaking in gaming sessions, would now be the one scolding a diligent student for studying too much. The irony wasn’t lost on her.

Clearing her throat, she crossed her arms and walked over, tapping the test paper with a finger. “Didn’t I tell you to go to bed? What’s this?”

“I’m almost done. I’ll sleep after finishing this one.” Jiang Qingyue felt like she’d heard this tone somewhere before.

“No. No more writing. Go to bed now!” Li Xingcan snatched the test paper away and glanced at it. Out of eight pages, Jiang Qingyue had only completed one. Was this what she called “almost done”? It was no different from Li Xingcan claiming a game was “almost over” right after it started.

“Stop joking. It’s barely past nine. I really will sleep after this one.”

Jiang Qingyue knew Li Xingcan meant well, but she couldn’t stand leaving a test unfinished. If she tried to sleep now, she’d just lie there restless.

Li Xingcan gazed into Jiang Qingyue’s eyes and realized she was right—he wouldn’t be able to sleep without finishing his game anyway. Handing the test paper back to her, he said, “Then I’ll watch you do it here. Go to bed right after you finish.”

Jiang Qingyue could only nod in agreement. As she resumed writing after receiving the paper, she noticed Li Xingcan had pulled up another chair beside her after completing just one question. He rested his head on the desk, tilting it sideways to watch her.

He really meant “watching” literally.

Trying her best to ignore this overwhelmingly present figure beside her, Jiang Qingyue focused on solving the problems.

While Jiang Qingyue was completely absorbed in her work, she naturally didn’t notice how intently Li Xingcan was observing her.

Li Xingcan admitted that his initial suggestion to watch had been half-hearted—he’d just been afraid playing on his phone might disturb her, so he’d idly started observing her problem-solving. But the more he watched, the more he realized how captivating someone could be when they were fully concentrated.

The questions weren’t particularly difficult, so Jiang Qingyue’s expression wasn’t overly serious. When pausing to think, her lashes would lower slightly. Upon finding the solution, her eyes would widen a fraction before she immediately began writing, her calm demeanor making those around her hold their breath instinctively, maintaining absolute silence to avoid disturbing her.

When Jiang Qingyue finished most of the page and turned it over, she looked up and met Li Xingcan’s gaze directly, her heart skipping a beat. “Why are you staring at me like that? You scared me.”

“I…” Li Xingcan snapped out of his daze, his eyes darting around as he scrambled for an excuse. “I was just… so bored I started counting your eyelashes.”

“…You really are bored,” Jiang Qingyue said, stretching her shoulders. “I’m almost done. If you’re bored, go play on your phone or go back to bed early. I’ll go to sleep soon too.”

“Don’t worry about me.”

Perhaps to cover his embarrassment at being caught, Li Xingcan fumbled to pull out his phone and pretended to be occupied. Only when he saw Jiang Qingyue lower her head to focus again did he relax—then realized he’d been holding his phone upside down.

No wonder the screen hadn’t turned on no matter how much he pressed—he’d been hitting the volume buttons.

Nonchalantly flipping his phone around, Li Xingcan unlocked it but found, for the first time, that nothing on it held his interest.

He swiped through his home screens absentmindedly, his attention still fixed on Jiang Qingyue in his peripheral vision.

Distracted, his finger accidentally tapped the camera app. Just as he was about to exit, he noticed how naturally beautiful Jiang Qingyue looked on the screen—more so than any posed photograph. Under the glow of the desk lamp, she bowed her head in thought, her hair tucked behind her ears to reveal flushed earlobes. Following her gaze to the desk, her sleeve revealed a slender wrist, the black pen in her hand contrasting sharply with her pale fingers—like the black ink on white paper, seemingly exuding the same subtle fragrance of ink.

His fingertip lightly tapped, capturing the moment.

Before Li Xingcan’s lips could curve into a smile, a crisp shutter sound broke the quiet room.

“Click!”

By the time Jiang Qingyue looked up, Li Xingcan’s frozen smile hadn’t even faded yet.

“You took a photo of me?” Jiang Qingyue was certain her ears hadn’t deceived her.

“No.” Li Xingcan quickly put his phone away, denying it stubbornly.

“Let me see your phone.” Jiang Qingyue reached out toward him.

“Hey! That’s my privacy—you can’t just look through it!” Li Xingcan’s heart pounded as she clutched her phone tightly, refusing to hand it over.

“That’s my portrait right you’re violating! Delete it now!”

Jiang Qingyue took one look at Li Xingcan’s reaction and knew she must have taken a photo—probably some unflattering shot without her knowledge!

Putting down her pen, Jiang Qingyue abandoned her test paper entirely and reached for Li Xingcan’s phone.

“It’s my phone! No way I’m giving it to you!” Li Xingcan swiftly hid the phone behind her back. She wasn’t deleting anything.

“Hand it over!”

Jiang Qingyue rolled up her sleeves and lunged for the phone.

“No!” Li Xingcan dodged deliberately, leaning back just enough to keep it out of reach as Jiang Qingyue stretched forward.

Fed up, Jiang Qingyue stood up to grab it. Li Xingcan, now face-to-face with her, turned and pressed her back against the desk, hands still hidden behind her. She raised an eyebrow with a teasing smirk. “Can’t reach it.”

Dodging left and right, Li Xingcan made it impossible for Jiang Qingyue to get the phone, leaving her increasingly frustrated. In desperation, Jiang Qingyue gripped Li Xingcan’s shoulders, trying to reach around her.

“Hey—?” The pressure made Li Xingcan wobble. Already leaning back precariously, she slid further, her back hitting the edge of the desk firmly.

At the same time, Jiang Qingyue suddenly remembered Li Xingcan’s shoulder injury and tried to pull back—but her forward momentum sent her toppling. In a panic, she threw her hands out, barely catching herself on the desk behind Li Xingcan.

Both of them were shaken, their hearts still racing when Li Xingcan tilted her head up slightly, meeting Jiang Qingyue’s gaze directly.

Eyes locked, the world fell silent.

Li Xingcan wondered if her heart was lagging—why was it pounding even harder now, long after the scare had passed?

Jiang Qingyue, faced with Li Xingcan’s dazed stare, quickly averted her eyes. She straightened up and pulled her hands back from the desk, trying to return to their earlier argument as if nothing had happened—but her words lacked any bite. “You… delete that photo.”

Snapping out of it, Li Xingcan’s ears burned faintly as she sat up, feigning composure. “No.”

“You—!” Jiang Qingyue’s eyes widened. “You’re really keeping an ugly photo of me?”

“You doubting my photography skills? It looks great!” Li Xingcan huffed and pulled out her phone, flashing the photo briefly before yanking it back, as if afraid Jiang Qingyue might snatch it.

“If it’s not ugly, then why won’t you delete it?” It didn’t seem bad, which only confused Jiang Qingyue more about Li Xingcan’s insistence.

“Can’t I just keep one photo of you?”

The words slipped out before Li Xingcan could stop them, startling even herself. Across from her, Jiang Qingyue—usually quick-witted—froze momentarily, caught off guard by the answer.

Before Jiang Qingyue could respond, Li Xingcan couldn’t take it anymore. She shot to her feet. “Hurry up and finish that last bit! I’m going to bed—I’m tired!”

“Uh, yeah.” Jiang Qingyue glanced at her, sensing something unspoken. And suddenly, everything about Li Xingcan’s recent behavior made sense.

Just before the answer became obvious, Jiang Qingyue forced herself to focus on the final question, picking up her pen to dismiss those distracting thoughts.

Seeing Jiang Qingyue return to her test, Li Xingcan finally breathed a quiet sigh of relief. She lightly smacked her own lips—what nonsense had she been spouting?