Chapter 25: You Have Time, Go to the Temple Too

“Xiao Qian, you’re finally back?”

The moment Hua Qi’an stepped into the dorm, Zhao Yingying rushed toward her with uncharacteristic enthusiasm.

On any other day, Zhao Yingying wouldn’t be this eager, but today, she’d entrusted her “happiness” to her.

“Damn that old guy calling out sick today—I could’ve ditched early to stake out Chen Zhiyan…”

Muttering curses, Zhao Yingying fixed Hua Qi’an with an expectant stare.

“What’d Chen Zhiyan say?”

She brimmed with confidence in her writing; even reading it twice had moved her to near-tears.

Once Chen Zhiyan saw it, she’d surely melt too.

Zhao Yingying had even tucked her contact at the end, for when the inevitable reach-out hit.

Hua Qi’an blinked, recalling Chen Zhiyan’s bare hands.

Inwardly, she chuckled; probably already trashed.

But outwardly, she offered a mild smile.

“Chen Zhiyan took the letter and flowers.”

“She didn’t open it in front of me, though.”

No lie—Chen Zhiyan had accepted them and hadn’t read it then.

Just—Zhao Yingying would interpret it her way.

“Heh, why would she rip open my letter with you watching?”

With delivery done, Zhao Yingying dropped the fawning, sneering instead.

Looks like Chen Zhiyan planned a private read at home.

That explained no friend request yet.

She eyed Hua Qi’an reproachfully.

“Anyway—why so late?”

“Made me wait forever.”

Hua Qi’an entered, dumping her bag at her spot, brushing off the malice.

“Out for dinner.”

Zhao Yingying arched a brow.

“You? Out for dinner?”

Like she’d heard something novel.

Hua Qi’an’s frugality was dorm legend—even group meals she dodged; daily, just the five-yuan cafeteria slop.

Breaking that streak today?

A notion struck; Zhao Yingying’s smile turned knowing, then gossipy, sidling up uninvited:

“Don’t tell me—you went with your sister?”

Hua Qi’an lifted a brow, narrowing her eyes at Zhao Yingying.

“Yeah. So?”

She caught motion from other bunks.

“What sister?”

He Yi.

She was in too.

Poking from her curtain, eyes wide at Hua Qi’an and Zhao Yingying.

Zhao Yingying feigned shock, stepping between them and glancing up.

“Eh? Xiao Qian didn’t tell you?”

She eyed the upper bunk.

Li Xiaozhen wasn’t around this afternoon.

But it didn’t dent Zhao Yingying’s zeal for spilling Hua Qi’an’s “tea.”

“Xiao Qian’s got a rich sister.”

“Saw her hop off her sister’s ride yesterday.”

Savoring He Yi’s incredulity, Zhao Yingying turned smugly to Hua Qi’an.

She craved that flustered backlash.

If Hua Qi’an cracked, it’d confirm the “truth.”

But even amid the gossip, Hua Qi’an sipped her coconut water leisurely.

Capping the drained bottle and binning it, she twisted to Zhao Yingying with a smile.

“Yup. What about it?”

Casual as if stating the sky’s blue.

Zhao Yingying choked, words failing.

This reaction—what the hell?

Just owning the sugar mommy setup?

But He Yi’s disbelief peaked; she emerged from her curtain, slid down, slipped on slippers, and planted before Hua Qi’an.

“…Xiao Qian, if your sister’s that loaded, why live so broke?”

“Blood sisters wouldn’t skimp help, right?”

Eyes bulging, her voice quivered.

Hua Qi’an propped her chin on one hand, eyeing He Yi coolly.

Post-Pen Fairy, He Yi had been off.

“I never said she’s blood.”

Hua Qi’an regarded her oddly.

He Yi froze at that, but before recovering for details, Hua Qi’an continued.

“Not no help—this shirt’s from her.”

Though it tallied to her debt.

Hua Qi’an tugged her collar, displaying the garment.

The top from yesterday—worn briefly then swapped; today, she’d reused it.

Seemed pricey; Zhao Yingying’s reaction hinted designer.

With Zhao Yingying dead-set on her “dirty ties” to Lin Yanqiu, explanations were futile.

So she stated facts, skipping the dance.

But Hua Qi’an hadn’t anticipated He Yi’s weirdness—Zhao Yingying’s prying was one thing.

She’d meant a casual tug, but the motion bared her delicate collarbone, the neck bandage lending fragile allure.

He Yi’s gaze unfocused, face ashen; she glanced at Hua Qi’an, then retreated to bed, drawing her curtain.

“Wow—didn’t peg our ‘most honest’ Xiao Qian for the scheming type.”

Zhao Yingying boomed with exaggerated flair.

Hua Qi’an met “most honest” with ambivalence.

“When’ll you introduce us to your sister?”

“She must be as easygoing as you, right?”

Zhao Yingying beamed at Hua Qi’an.

Genuine curiosity; she recalled that flashy ride.

Rubbing elbows with the elite? Zhao Yingying never passed.

Even if the “sister” belonged to her annoying roommate.

Hua Qi’an mustered a troubled look.

“My sister… she’s kinda fierce.”

“Maybe someday—you’ll meet?”

As if.

Dragging this lot to Lin Yanqiu? Asking for another thrashing?

A faint throb from her calf, salve’s cool whisper.

Hua Qi’an saw no maso streak.

Zhao Yingying, taking it as flattery, didn’t push—the quip mutual.

Hua Qi’an wouldn’t truly hook her up with her “sugar mama.”

She figured herself leagues hotter; if introduced and snagged away, ditching the original? Messy.

As “roomie,” she’d snag access someday.

With that, Zhao Yingying returned to her lower bunk, still eyeing for Chen Zhiyan’s add.

Keys jangled outside—the afternoon-absent Li Xiaozhen back.

“Xiaozhen—where were you all—”

Zhao Yingying craned toward the door, then startled at Li Xiaozhen’s sight.

Her face grayish, dark circles deep—last night’s sleep abysmal.

But more striking: neck and wrists laden with beads, talismans, jade pendants—the works.

“…Went to a nearby temple.”

Li Xiaozhen’s pallor was ghastly; recalling last night’s words, Zhao Yingying unusually held her tongue.

Li Xiaozhen trudged wordlessly to her bed.

Passing Hua Qi’an’s seat, she halted abruptly.

Turning, she stared.

Her eyes bloodshot.

Hua Qi’an prickled under the gaze.

“…What?”

Li Xiaozhen fixated on Hua Qi’an’s hand.

Her voice chilled.

“You have time—go to a temple too.”