“Sister, is that woman really that important to you?”
A fair hand reached out and gripped Yan Yu’s chin.
“Before, your heart and eyes were always filled with that person. You always kept a layer of cold distance toward me. No matter how much I envied or longed for you, I could only quietly stay by the side, never daring to step between you and her.”
She paused, her tone taking on a stubborn seriousness.
“But now, it’s different. You’ve already chosen to let down your guard with me, to be so gentle with me. I can no longer stand by and do nothing about you…”
“Sister, what exactly do you like about Su Qinghan?”
“What has she ever done to make you so fixated, so devoted? If you just want someone to accompany you, to protect you, wouldn’t picking me be better? I understand you more than she does, and I cherish you more than she does!”
Yan Yu’s heart gave a violent lurch.
‘This is bad.’
‘This intense, almost obsessive affection is not at all how Bai Yan’er should be in the original novel—she was supposed to only silently watch and hide her jealousy.’
‘Could it be that after I transmigrated into this body, my many actions deviated from the original host’s path, forcibly twisting Bai Yan’er’s feelings and making this obsession even deeper?’
But she couldn’t panic.
She always remembered her goal.
At least until she completed the system quest, she couldn’t get entangled with Bai Yan’er or create any unnecessary complications.
Suppressing the turmoil in her heart, Yan Yu calmed the waves in her eyes and simply regarded Bai Yan’er as a dear younger sister.
A gentle smile curved at the corner of her lips, without a trace of loss.
She slowly lowered her head, averted her gaze, slowed her breathing, deliberately kept a slight distance, and even forced her heartbeat to steady.
Silence was the most straightforward answer.
Bai Yan’er watched her, seeing that her heart was still full of someone else.
The last warmth in her eyes slowly sank away.
“Sister, by doing this, you mean that no matter what, you have to choose her, right?”
She pressed on softly, her trailing voice carrying an almost imperceptible tremble.
Yan Yu still didn’t speak.
She only gave a slight nod, silently confirming that unwavering resolve.
The moment the answer was received, the air froze.
“Then, I won’t let you have your wish.”
The next second, Bai Yan’er suddenly leaned in, moving so fast it caught Yan Yu off guard.
Soft, cool lips lightly landed on Yan Yu’s cheek, like a spring breeze brushing over petals—a dragonfly skimming the water’s surface, touching and parting in an instant.
The fleeting sensation shocked Yan Yu, making her entire body stiffen.
Her heart skipped a violent beat, and her mind went completely blank.
‘What’s happening?’
Yan Yu’s eyes widened.
‘Has Bai Yan’er gone mad?! This was completely unexpected!’
Before she could recover, Bai Yan’er straightened up and stepped back.
She raised a radiant, beautiful smile.
Her tongue lightly brushed the corner of her lips, and a glint of determination shimmered in her eyes.
“It’s okay. Since Sister is so stubbornly protecting her, starting today, I declare war on Su Qinghan.”
She looked at Yan Yu, whose face was flushed and eyes filled with panic, and smiled with certainty.
“Just wait, Sister. I will take you back to my side, completely and entirely.”
That smile bloomed on her exquisite features, breathtakingly beautiful, making her—already recognized as the school belle—even more flawless, without a single defect.
But to Yan Yu, that beautiful smile only made her more flustered.
Her heart churned with dense waves of panic and helplessness.
The warmth of that gentle kiss still lingered on her cheek, burning and making her deeply uncomfortable.
She couldn’t stay any longer.
She just wanted to escape this out-of-control atmosphere.
“I, I need to go. I have to go back. Xiao Zhen is still waiting for me.”
“Xiao Zhen?”
Bai Yan’er raised an eyebrow, her tone probing.
“Your roommate? Also a girl?”
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
Yan Yu gripped the armrests of her wheelchair, unwilling to discuss further.
Her tone carried a hasty avoidance, and she immediately turned the wheelchair, determined to leave.
Bai Yan’er stood still, a faint smile on her lips.
Her gaze fixed unwaveringly on Yan Yu’s hurriedly retreating back.
The gentleness and playfulness in her eyes faded bit by bit, leaving only a cold calm.
Not until Yan Yu’s figure completely disappeared from sight did she mutter softly, her voice hiding an unshakeable obsession.
“Really, you’re hard to pin down, Sister.”
With that, she took out her phone and unlocked the screen.
On the screen lay the detailed information her secretary, Liu Wenyan, had just sent—neatly arranged, listing all the recent projects the Su Group was advancing, clearly marking the capital flow chains, cooperation loopholes, and all the hidden weak points in Su Qinghan’s core operations.
Every word was detailed and incisive.
Bai Yan’er scrolled through the pages, her fingertips lightly tracing the key annotations.
A confident smile slowly curved at the corner of her lips.
Against Su Qinghan, she had plenty of patience and plenty of ways.
…
Yan Yu had practically fled from that spot.
The wheels of the wheelchair scraped against the smooth floor, producing a hurried sound that matched the chaotic rhythm of her pounding heart.
The small patch of skin on her cheek, where she had been gently touched, seemed to have been branded with an invisible mark.
It carried a faint warmth, not glaring, but impossible to ignore.
That heat spread all the way to her heart, giving rise to an absurd, unsettling numbness.
‘A sense of immorality.’
Those three words intruded into her mind at the wrong moment, piercing sharply into her heart.
Reason clearly told her that Bai Yan’er and this body shared no blood relation.
That “Sister” was just a term of endearment Bai Yan’er insisted on using.
But being bound by that obsessive gaze, being violated by that sudden, boundary-crossing action—it still made her deeply uncomfortable.
That was not the dependence a younger sister should have for an older sister.
The emotions hidden in those eyes were too hot, the possessiveness too strong, almost threatening to swallow her whole.
‘I’m just here to do the mission.’
‘I’m just here to play a role.’
She repeated it to herself in her mind, like reinforcing a defense that was about to collapse.
But Bai Yan’er’s final, determined confession, and that light kiss—they were like a pebble thrown into the calm lake of her heart.
The ripples spread, refusing to settle.
She had thought that as long as she firmly played the part of deeply loving Su Qinghan, she could guide all deviating plotlines back on track.
Only now did she realize that she had, without knowing it, personally fostered a variable even harder to control.
Frustration, unease, and a fear deep in her heart that the plot would completely spiral out of control—all tangled together.
She had to refocus on the main storyline.
She had to use Su Qinghan, that clear target, to overshadow that unsettling episode just now.