novelraw Chapter 730: Special Training—The Troublemaking Big Sis
Chapter 730: Special Training—The Troublemaking Big Sis
A melodious, story-laden violin line, trembling just slightly, faded into the wind and snow.
No one spoke on the terrace.
Only the hush of wind through the treetops and the soft rustle of snow on the ground remained.
Under the awning, Cheng Xiaoyue and Lin Feifei stood frozen as if someone had struck pressure points.
Their mouths hung open, but no sound came out.
The scene before them felt more unreal and more devastating than any youth film they had watched or any romance novel they had read.
Especially Lin Feifei.
Because she came from a well-off family and had learned violin before, the shock hit her far harder than it did Cheng Xiaoyue.
Country Road sounded simple, but producing the rich emotional layers and dazzling technique that had just been played was extremely difficult.
Yet Tang Song’s casual, effortless technique was flawless in pitch, comparable to studio-grade intonation, and that improvised, highly ornate cadenza he had slipped into the interlude...It matched the caliber of performers she had heard in concert halls.
It was simply unbelievable.
She had heard Zhang Yan say that this “lord” came from an ordinary rural family and never studied music as a child.
He... what kind of person was he?!
After a moment,
Tang Song slowly set down the violin.
He seemed immersed in the piece’s emotion, the thoughts gradually withdrawing from his performance.
Night and snowlight blurred his expression, leaving only those deep, fathomless eyes.
Zhang Yan shivered, and when she came to her senses she felt a coldness across her face.
She hurriedly wiped at it and realized she had been crying without noticing, tears mixing with melting snow.
Just as she reached to wipe them away, a warm, large hand slid gently across her damp cheek and trembling eyelashes.
“Why are you crying? Was it good?”
“G-good, very good.”
“Do you like it?”
“Yes!”
“That’s good. It’s cold out. Let’s go back.”
“...Okay.”
Tang Song smoothed her collarbone hair, took Zhang Yan’s hand, and they headed into the loft.
The two girls standing by the door finally found their voices.
“T-Tang Song... you... you’re amazing...” Cheng Xiaoyue stammered. “I never knew Country Road could be played so beautifully!”
Lin Feifei nodded in a dreamlike daze. “Absolute professional standard, incredible.”
Tang Song smiled faintly, wearing a perfectly coy look. “You’ll embarrass me with any more compliments.”
The four returned to the loft.
Tang Song put the violin away, gently wrapped his arm around Zhang Yan’s waist, and said, “It’s getting late and the snow’s getting heavier. Thanks for having us. I’ll take care of Zhang Yan.”
“Ah... oh! Okay! Thank you!”
“You two be careful... I’ll see you off.”
Cheng Xiaoyue and Lin Feifei bobbed their heads like puppets, flustered.
They went downstairs, and when the flower shop door opened the cold wind swept in along with the snow.
Only then did Zhang Yan remember and wave to her two friends. “Goodbye, Yueyue, Feifei.”
“Goodbye, YanYan!”
“Goodbye!”
Liu Jiayi was already standing respectfully by the rear door of the Rolls-Royce Phantom, opening it for them.
Zhang Yan glanced at Tang Song, then bent and slipped inside.
The heavy thud of the doors closed one after another, shutting out the wind and snow.
The Rolls-Royce started silently and melted into the night.
It was snowing, and traffic on the road was a bit congested.
Zhang Yan hardly spoke the whole way.
The scene on the loft terrace replayed in her mind like an indelible stamp.
Those deep eyes;
the music flowing from his fingertips;
the snow swirling as if dancing just for her...
That gentleness that felt like being cradled by the whole world made her lightheaded, as if she were walking on clouds.
Time blurred.
When the car neared the gate of Yanjing Tiancheng, Tang Song suddenly said, “Xiao Qi, stop at the junction up ahead.”
Liu Jiayi flicked on the turn signal and pulled over steadily to the curb.
Zhang Yan turned to him, puzzled.
“Haven’t you not seen northern snow for a long time?” Tang Song asked with a smile, turning toward her. “Do you want to look at it a bit more?”
Zhang Yan met his smiling eyes and, seeming to understand, nodded vigorously. “Yes.”
They got out.
Liu Jiayi drove the Phantom silently into the garage.
This was a high-end, city-center residential area—quiet, clean streets around it.
Snow and neon flickered, with almost no pedestrians.
They didn’t speak much. Tang Song naturally took her hand and tucked it into the pocket of his warm coat.
They walked on the thin layer of snow, crunch—crunch—crunching underfoot, strolling quietly under the streetlights.
From time to time, other couples returning late laughed and ran by, scooping up snowballs to play.
Zhang Yan kept her head bowed, feeling the warmth from his palm and the private peace and romance that belonged just to her.
After more than half an hour, with thin snow dusting their hair and shoulders, Tang Song finally stopped.
“Shall we go back? Keep walking and we’ll turn into snowmen. Also... it’s time for bed.”
“...Okay.”
Back at the warm, springlike large flat, after washing up,
When Zhang Yan came out of the wardrobe shyly wearing the brand-new cotton pajamas, she immediately saw Tang Song seated at the office desk typing.
She lightened her steps, like a cat afraid of disturbing its owner, and crept up.
Standing a short distance behind him, she watched quietly.
He was replying to an all-English email, focused and serious.
His profile was sketched in the soft light, from the high, straight nose to the thinly pressed lips...
Every line held her spellbound.
The more she looked, the more handsome he became.
She stood there, a little dazed.
Then, without warning, he turned his head and their eyes met.
Zhang Yan felt like a child caught doing something wrong. She emitted a small cry and hurriedly looked away, instinctively stepping back half a pace.
Tang Song chuckled. He spun his chair, reached out long arms, and drew her slim waist into his embrace, applying a little pressure.
Zhang Yan gave a small startled sound and found herself sinking onto his lap, held tightly in his arms.
He leaned into the hair at her temple, inhaling deeply as if savoring a cat’s scent.
“Mm...” Zhang Yan shivered from the ticklishness, gooseflesh rising instantly across her skin.
His kisses fell like feathers—on her forehead, the tip of her nose, the corners of her mouth, the side of her neck, then down to her collarbone and shoulder...
Zhang Yan closed her eyes tightly, trembling slightly, yet she didn’t resist.
The quiet bedroom echoed only with her quickening breath.
Tang Song’s lips and teeth traced the moist skin and felt her racing heat, a deep satisfaction welling in him.
Seeing his female desk mate still with closed eyes, his long fingers couldn’t help but gently caress the exposed calf of her leg.
Where his hand landed, he found astonishing slickness and softness.
“Ah!”
When his palm slowly began to move upward, Zhang Yan finally opened her eyes, instinctively grabbing his wrist, her cheeks burning as if bleeding. “It tickles... it tickles...”
“Then I’ll be gentler, okay?”
“I... I...” Zhang Yan ducked her head again, unable to form a complete sentence.
Tang Song smiled and leaned in, prying open her lips. One hand wrapped around her waist while the other traced playful paths on her smooth leg,
Indulgently sampling her obedience and bashfulness.
This time, Zhang Yan could not utter any refusal.
She felt like butter thrown into a blazing fire.
In his palm, in his breath, in his all-pervading tenderness, she melted bit by bit, collapsed, losing any definite shape.
.....
Wednesday, December 13, 2023, cloudy with light to moderate snow, high -1°C.
6:00 a.m.
Qian Lele woke promptly from the dorm’s warm bedding. The sky was still pitch black.
The dorm’s heating was strong and cozy, much more comfortable than the small house back home that relied on a coal stove for warmth.
She remembered telling her mother before coming to Yancheng that the village was going to switch from coal to gas heating, so everyone needed wall-mounted boilers and radiators for winter.
But installing such a set cost over five thousand yuan.
That sum had become the family’s new savings goal before the New Year.
Still, she wasn’t worried.
Now that her mother had the brand-new roujiamo tricycle to earn money, things at home could improve if she worked hard.
She took a deep breath, sat up, and quietly washed.
When she changed clothes and her fingertips brushed the fluffy, high-quality down jacket on her shoulders, a complex sweetness and embarrassment stirred in her chest.
Her brother had given it to her.
He said Songmei Apparel had sent sample pieces to cooperative influencers and had included one for her.
She only picked up the package at the courier station after returning to Yancheng yesterday. It was really beautiful and clearly expensive.
That unassuming care that protected her pride made it impossible to refuse.
She stuffed her laptop, water bottle, and books into her backpack.
Qian Lele slung it on her shoulders and slipped quietly out of the still-sleeping dorm.
......
It had snowed again last night, leaving a thick layer on the ground;
the air was crisp and instantly awakening.
She walked briskly out the south gate of the teacher’s college.
After waiting by the roadside for a few minutes, Bus 218, lights warm, pulled up.
It was still early;
few people were on the bus.
She took a window seat and watched outside.
The city slowly stirred beneath a deep blue sky.
“North City Garden residential area, next stop.”
The bus announced the stop.
Qian Lele took her backpack and got off, looking toward the relatively new housing community ahead.
Professor Jiang’s house was here.
The university’s provided faculty housing didn’t belong to Professor Jiang, and it was far from the city center.
Once she joined the faculty at Yanshi University, she had the security of a steady housing fund and immediately bought this secondhand apartment closer to downtown.
Two bedrooms, a living room, ninety-five square meters—bought at the market peak a couple of years back.
Whenever Professor Jiang mentioned it she patted her thigh and complained about being impulsive and duped.
Now the monthly mortgage was over six thousand. Luckily, Professor Jiang had a thick wallet from once working in a big company in the Imperial Capital and reportedly received a hefty severance.
Qian Lele had visited twice before.
When Professor Jiang had class she would stay in faculty housing;
now she was on leave and would definitely be home.
Approaching the south gate of the complex, Qian Lele’s eyes brightened.
Across the road a new food stall was set up beneath a canopy, steam rising—someone selling roujiamo.
Next to it there was a jianbing stall.
She had just helped her mother buy a full roujiamo machine;
mom would soon start selling. She couldn’t help but inspect.
Plus, she hadn’t eaten yet this morning.
She had planned to supervise Professor Jiang and make her a healthy breakfast according to the schedule.
But buying one roujiamo wouldn’t hurt, right?
Besides, the stall owner looked about the same age as her mother and seemed to be struggling—maybe she needed help.
She hurried over and was about to speak.
A cool voice beside her said, “Boss, two roujiamos, one extra spicy, one no spice.”
Qian Lele turned and saw a very striking girl.
She wore a cool black down jacket, her orange-brown hair tied in a high ponytail, an indifferent expression on her face.
The girl pulled her gaze back and addressed the stall owner, “Auntie, I’ll have one too. Make it regular and add a packet of spicy strips.”
“Okay!”
Three orders came at once and the stall owner’s face lit up as she got to work.
She took the meat from a warming box, chopped it quickly on the board with a clack-clack-clack.
From the stove she pulled out golden-crisp flatbreads, sliced them open, and stuffed them full of meat and savory juices.
Soon three aromatic roujiamos were ready.
Qian Lele stepped forward to help with paper and plastic bags and to pack them.
“Oh, thank you, little girl. Pretty and kind-hearted too,” the owner said with a toothy smile.
“You’re welcome, Auntie.” Qian Lele took her package, said goodbye, and headed toward the residential area.
She couldn’t help biting into it on the way.
Crunch—
The crust was crispy;
the meat tender and juicy, the spicy strip adding a sweet-salty kick—delicious.
She ate heartily.
Following memory, Qian Lele entered the stairwell of Building 4, Unit 1.
Then she saw a familiar silhouette—
The cool girl from the roujiamo stall was also waiting for the elevator.
They rode it one in front of the other.
Qian Lele took out the access card Professor Jiang had given her and swiped it;
the button for the 13th floor lit.
The girl swiped as well;
hers was for the 12th floor.
The elevator doors closed slowly;
the space was quiet and narrow.
They stood side by side.
The cool girl’s lips moved slightly, and then she said suddenly, “Is your jacket the new Heyi down jacket?”
Qian Lele paused, looked down at her coat, and hurriedly replied, “Yes, it is.”
“This style looks like it just started pre-sale yesterday.” The other’s gaze sparkled with curiosity. “Did you get it early? Are you a social media influencer?”
“No, no.” Qian Lele waved her hands awkwardly. “A friend sent it. He works at that company.”
“Oh.” The girl nodded and didn’t pursue the question.
Ding— the elevator opened at the twelfth floor.
Before leaving, the cool girl gave her a small smile. “The coat looks great.”
Then she stepped out.
Only then did Qian Lele realize the girl must be a Songmei Apparel employee who recognized the unreleased sample.
At 1304’s door,
Qian Lele wrapped the remaining half of her roujiamo in paper, put it in her bag, and pressed the smart lock’s doorbell.
Ding-dong— ding-dong— the bell sounded several times through the quiet corridor.
Footsteps in slippers dragged by inside, and Professor Jiang’s drowsy voice came, “Who is it... oh, Lele?”
The door clicked open.
Professor Jiang Yirong clearly had been woken from a warm bed and was still groggy.
Her dark long curls were tousled, she wore only a base shirt and loose pajama pants,
unable to hide her mature, full figure.
“Good morning, Professor Jiang.” Qian Lele stood obediently at the door with her backpack.
Professor Jiang yawned a huge yawn. “Come in, Lele. Why so early? It’s still dark.”
“It’s not that early.” Qian Lele changed into slippers and solemnly held up her phone to show the time. “It’s nearly seven already. According to the schedule Brother made, it’s time for your morning exercise.”
“What?” Professor Jiang’s face descended. She pleaded weakly, “It snowed yesterday, the roads are slippery—I can’t run. How about starting tomorrow?”
“No problem. The schedule has a backup plan.” Qian Lele set down her bag and smiled brightly. “You can do indoor aerobic jumps. I memorized the moves;
I’ll teach you.”
Seeing her pupil’s responsible, glowing eyes, Professor Jiang instantly sagged.
“All right, I’ll change.”
....
“Come on, Professor Jiang, adjust your breathing! Start with jumping jacks—one, two, three, four—”
With Lele’s crisp commands, a merciless workout began in the living room.
Because Professor Jiang’s figure was full, her movements created a tumultuous scene.
Qian Lele stared, astonished, thinking no wonder her brother insisted the professor lose weight—this was beyond ordinary.
“I can’t... I can’t, Lele... I can’t breathe...” In less than ten minutes, the lazy professor collapsed onto a mat.
She panted heavily, drenched in sweat.
Lele stepped forward, stern-faced like a strict trainer. “No, Professor Jiang, this is just the start. Brother said if you slack off, there will be punishment.”
At the word “punishment,” Professor Jiang gritted her teeth and huffed up, continuing but moving slowly and trying to cut corners at every chance.
Even so, she soon flopped to the floor and began to slack off.
Forty minutes later,
the staggered morning routine finally ended.
Professor Jiang lay sprawled as if half-dead.
Lele hurried into the kitchen to prepare the fat-loss breakfast from the schedule.
When Professor Jiang saw a plate with a few florets of boiled broccoli, a plain boiled egg, and half a solitary corn, she nearly cried on the spot.
My god... this for breakfast?
My stomach will not agree!
Under Lele’s watchful gaze, however, she bit back tears and chewed the bland “greens.”
At 9:00 a.m.,
the pair tidied the kitchen and moved to the study.
Professor Jiang was once again the intellectual professional, lecturing Lele on cutting-edge AI topics.
From basic principles of machine learning to neural network models in deep learning and practical Python programming...
These were priceless topics not covered in the undergraduate curriculum at Yanshi University.
After theory, Lele opened her notebook and began coding a simple image-recognition program per Professor Jiang’s instructions.
Meanwhile, Professor Jiang’s nose twitched.
A mingled aroma of meat, bread, and spicy strips drifted faintly from a backpack in the corner.
Roujiamo! She’d bought roujiamo this morning—and it looked like spicy strips were inside?!
Professor Jiang’s throat rolled.
The earlier “grass” breakfast had long vanished.
Now she was ravenous, picturing the roujiamo’s salty, greasy flavor.
Half an hour later,
Professor Jiang, suffering in longing, cleared her throat and feigned calm. “Lele, could you pour me a glass of water? There’s a cup on my bedside table in the master bedroom.”
“Okay, Professor Jiang.” Lele jumped to her feet.
When she returned with the water and set the cup before her teacher, she froze.
A small, suspicious red oil stain clung to the corner of Professor Jiang’s mouth, and the spicy-strip scent lingered in the air.
Clever as a whip, Lele immediately realized she had been lured away.
She opened her backpack and produced the roujiamo.
Sure enough, one bite was gone;
the wrapper had a piece bitten out.
“Professor Jiang!” She brandished the evidence in a mixture of anger and helplessness. “Did you just sneak a bite of my roujiamo?!”
“Well... I...” Professor Jiang’s eyes twitched, shame and guilt flashing across her face.
Lele sighed and set an A4 sheet on the desk, speaking in a serious tone.
“Professor Jiang, you’ve broken the rules. According to the schedule’s punishment rules, Item One—‘Any stealing of high-calorie food results in thirty minutes of standing in the corner and reading the lyrics of “Calories” three times.’”
At the word “punishment,” Professor Jiang jumped up, clinging to her pupil and beginning to plead coquettishly, “Oh Lele, don’t take it so seriously. You know I’ll comply;
this is your first day supervising me—let’s not make this a precedent, okay?”
She was a university professor, Lele’s mentor;
how could she be made to stand in the corner and recite disgraceful lyrics?
But Lele shook her head resolutely. “No, Professor Jiang. I promised Brother I’d be strict.”
Seeing the attempt to charm fail, Professor Jiang’s face darkened and she used the stall tactic. “Fine, fine, I get it. I’ll go to the bathroom. You keep coding—don’t delay your work.”
Without waiting for a response, she hurried out of the study.
Watching her teacher flee, Lele felt helpless.
This task Brother had given her was harder than she imagined.
Years of a teacher-student dynamic had given Professor Jiang an ingrained elder authority—how could she truly obey a student?
What would Brother do in this situation?
She bit her lip, a sly glint flashing in her eyes.
She picked up her phone.
She described what had just happened and attached a pitiful sticker.
After a moment the phone buzzed.
Brother: “Lele, are you at the faculty dorm with Professor Jiang?”
Lele: “No, Brother, we’re at Professor Jiang’s home.”
Brother: “Send me the address. I’ll arrange an assistant to help you complete the task.”
An assistant?
Lele didn’t fully understand but obediently shared her location.
Brother: “North City Garden? OK. Wait a bit;
someone will contact you soon.”
Lele replied with a cat-salute sticker and put her phone away.
The heavy worry eased a little.
She most feared failing Tang Song’s assignment.
After more than ten minutes,
Professor Jiang returned as if nothing had happened and sat down to continue guiding Lele through code.
A while later,
a phone rang—an unfamiliar Yancheng local number.
Lele’s heart jumped;
she picked up.
“Hello... oh, yes, this is she... ah? Okay, got it!”
After hanging up, she turned to Professor Jiang with an awkward expression and said, “Professor, Brother worried we might not complete the task, so he sent someone over... to check.”
“What?!” Professor Jiang stood up, shocked. “Sent someone to check?!”
Then she looked at Lele’s sheepish face and immediately understood.
She jabbed an accusing finger at her pupil. “You! How dare you set me up! We’re master and disciple!”
Lele’s face flushed. “Professor Jiang, I’m just trying to help you. Let’s go meet them downstairs. She said she’s almost here.”
“All right!” Professor Jiang gritted her teeth and complied.
They put on coats and went downstairs to the south gate.
The winter morning street was sparse and the air sharp.
Professor Jiang stood with her hands in her down jacket pockets, anxiously scanning around.
Her greatest fear was Tang Song showing up himself.
If he came and saw her in front of her student, the social death would be unbearable.
Lele reached for her phone to call.
Professor Jiang suddenly stiffened and gripped Lele’s arm hard enough to sting.
Lele looked up, following the teacher’s frozen gaze.
She saw a tall, fit figure stride across the sparse traffic toward them.
She wore a black, tapered coat with a matching high-neck sweater underneath and black long boots.
Her jet-black hair was pulled into a high ponytail that lifted slightly in the cold wind.
Her eyes were sharp as an eagle’s, her expression cold—keep away from strangers.
In one hand she held a half-meter-long, sleek black stick—either a pointer or a disciplinary cane.
“Assistant Jiang.” A cool voice announced.
Liu Jiayi stopped in front of them, her gaze sweeping first over the white-faced Professor Jiang, then turning to Qian Lele.
“Miss Qian, Mr. Tang is quite busy now. Over the next few days I will be your assistant, helping you complete the supervision task for Professor Jiang.”
Qian Lele bowed quickly and greeted her obediently. “Hello! Thank you for your hard work!”
Professor Jiang’s eyelids began to twitch wildly.
Holy crap! Was that necessary?!
I only took one bite of a roujiamo! I tried to shirk! Tang Song, you bastard!
He actually sent Liu Jiayi after me?!
Her impression of this cold former colleague ran deep.
Liu Jiayi was not an ordinary driver.
She was a sanda champion and Jin Director’s top security.
Professor Jiang had seen her once put three nearly six-foot men flat with a few strikes—clean as a movie stunt.
Then look at that shiny black cane.
Professor Jiang shuddered and immediately envisioned a string of gruesome punishments.
If she dared to slack off or snack again...
Would Liu Jiayi press her against a wall and sting her palm? Press her on the sofa and spank her?
If Shangguan Qiuyas, Qin Yingxue, Lin Tiantian, or even Director Jin found out...
It would be better to die than face that humiliation!
Liu Jiayi’s gaze flicked back to the familiar Professor Jiang.
Her hand tightened slightly on the cane, the leather gloves making a soft friction sound.
A smile finally curved the corner of her mouth.
Clearly, having long been treated like a courier, clothing promoter, or airport driver by her boss, this bodyguard had a backlog of grievances.
Now she finally received a legitimate professional assignment that would let her move.
She looked barely able to contain herself.
.....
Near noon,
a silver Mercedes S-Class rolled into Shengyuan Fine Neighborhood’s underground garage.
Tang Song escorted Zhang Yan into the private elevator from the B1 private entrance.
“This is your sister Wen Ruan’s place. B1 is mainly the fitness and home theater area;
we’ll take the elevator up from the first floor.”
“Okay.” Zhang Yan nodded, clutching the two paper bags as she followed him.
Ding— the elevator doors slid open.
A scent of high-end fragrance and faint floral notes wafted out.
They stepped out of the elevator.
A lazy, playful voice came from the living room. “Oh, our little genius has finally come? If you didn’t, sister would’ve gone to Yanjing Tiancheng herself to catch you.”
Tang Song looked ahead and saw the older sister standing in the living room.
She wore a minimalist coffee-colored tracksuit: a long-sleeve cropped top and matching drawstring pants that sketched her perfect hourglass figure.
Her flat, firm abdomen showed clear lines;
above, a lush bust created a striking, healthy, lethal sensuality.
“RuanRuan.” Tang Song stepped forward a few paces, inhaling the mature peach-like scent from the older sister, his heart racing uncontrollably.
The past few days with pure Zhang Yan, he had restrained himself carefully, guarding her innocence and proceeding cautiously.
Even last night he had only touched legs and buttocks and kissed shoulders and neck.
Now, seeing Wen Ruan’s overtly seductive presence, he felt close to losing control—a strong urge to have a vigorous encounter.
Wen Ruan, detecting his unabashed ardor, lifted an eyebrow in triumph yet ignored him.
“Sister WenRuan, I’m sorry.” Zhang Yan blushed and whispered an apology while offering the bags. “I brought Cantonese pastries for you. They’re delicious. And snacks for Snowball.”
This trip to Yancheng was a special leave Wen Ruan had approved for her;
on the third day she finally came because they would head to the Imperial Capital headquarters together this afternoon.
“Let sister hug you and I’ll forgive you.” Wen Ruan opened her arms.
Zhang Yan hesitated and glanced at Tang Song.
Wen Ruan felt a flash of little jealousy.
Oh, are you two a couple now? Am I an outsider?
She strode forward and, with her tall, voluptuous body, swept the petite Zhang Yan into a full embrace,
then planted a loud kiss on her flushed cheek.
Having asserted her ownership, she made a victorious cat-like hum in Tang Song’s direction.
Zhang Yan, lost by the sudden intimacy, could only stand red-faced with her head bowed, allowing herself to be held.
“Come, RuanRuan, let’s hug too.” Tang Song inhaled and opened his arms.
He pulled the older sister into his embrace.
The round, heavy weight heightened the fire in him and he hugged tighter.
Feeling his intense reaction, Wen Ruan smiled seductively, slipped out of his hold, and came in front of Zhang Yan.
“YanYan, weren’t you always wanting to meet my Snowball? Look, he’s right behind you.”
“Ah?” Zhang Yan turned in surprise and indeed saw a gray-and-white ragdoll cat lazily curled in the sofa corner, blue eyes curiously watching her.
She forgot all awkwardness and sprinted to cradle the cat carefully,
then took out the imported cat snacks she had bought and fed it.
Wen Ruan watched and smiled, returning to Tang Song.
She leaned toward his ear and with a seductive older-sister whisper said,
“Why? You’re unwilling to bully your pure desk mate, so you’re pent up? Want sister to help you now?”
As she spoke, her peachy hips nudged his body with an elastic sway.
Tang Song’s breath froze. He gritted his teeth and stammered, “W-wait!”
“Hehe, wait?” Wen Ruan smiled even more coquettishly, eyes full of amusement. “Then forget it. I don’t have time to wait around. If I had time, I’d just use my massage gun to finish myself.”
“You—are you—” Tang Song’s face went red with blood rushing to his head.
“This vixen, do you dare now?” Wen Ruan licked her lips, disdainful. “What, no guts? Then stop the nonsense and don’t dribble on me when you can’t do anything, you useless—”
Slap—!
A crisp, resonant smack split the spacious living room.
Tang Song finally lost it and gave Wen Ruan’s peachy butt a hard smack.
The sound was so loud it immediately drew Zhang Yan and the ragdoll Snowball’s attention.
The girl and the cat both looked up with round, innocent eyes.
Wen Ruan clapped her hand to her butt, face a mix of humiliation, shame, and anger.
“Tang Song, how could you! YanYan is here. Show some respect. Also... when will you stop hitting women’s behinds as a bad habit?”
Zhang Yan’s eyes widened, mouth opening unconsciously.
Wen Ruan got spanked by Tang Song?
And— according to Wen Ruan— this wasn’t the first time?
He, he had this... habit?!
Tang Song’s mouth twitched involuntarily.
Well then, Wen Ruan, your acting is as good as Su Yu’s!
The air in the living room froze.
At that moment,
Ding-dong— ding-dong— the doorbell rang abruptly.
“I’ll get it, someone’s here.” Wen Ruan grabbed the excuse, shot Tang Song an angry glance, and hurried to the door.
Startled, shy Zhang Yan shrank further into the sofa corner, secretly relieved.
Still, her mind buzzed. She couldn’t believe a gentle, kind guy like Tang Song would have such a strange habit.
The door opened and a bright, energetic voice called, “Good noon, Sister Wen Ruan, I’m here.”
Tang Song’s brow flicked;
this sister was stirring trouble!
“Come in, lunch will be here soon—Private Banquet Mansion again.” Wen Ruan’s voice answered.
“Thank you, Sister Wen Ruan!”
Footsteps approached and a lively figure poked out from the entryway.
Before she appeared, her voice could be heard: “Snowball, Aunt Qingqing is here. Let Auntie sniff you! Heeheehee.”
Then she stepped into the living room.
She wore a gentle taro-purple toggle coat with a thick fur collar.
Her glossy black hair was tied into two cute low ponytails that swayed at her shoulders.
Her bangs framed two big, shiny eyes that darted about, full of liveliness and playfulness.
She looked like a cheerful girl from a Japanese magazine, completely at odds with the warm but tense air in the living room.