Elder Sister
Three dishes and one soup—Su Yun was quite satisfied with her culinary skills. Braised spare ribs, steamed perch, stir-fried greens, and corn, shrimp, and winter melon soup. Living away from home for her studies wasn’t easy; if she wanted to taste the flavors of her hometown, she had to cook them herself. Gradually, Su Yun grew from a kitchen novice to a competent cook.
Actually, Su Yun thought noodles would suffice for a birthday meal, but He Mian insisted on having proper dishes.
“You couldn’t possibly cook any slower?” He Mian teased.
“That’s because you kept distracting me!” Su Yun retorted, unwilling to concede.
Cooking with a mischief-maker around, He Mian managed to steal plenty of tofu while she worked. Su Yun couldn’t shake off the clingy troublemaker, and with dishes simmering on the stove, she had no choice but to focus on one thing at a time.
“Should we invite Brother Xiaobao over?” Su Yun mused, thinking more people would make the occasion livelier.
He Mian rested his hand on Su Yun’s slim waist. “Why bring that third wheel into this?”
“…”
—
“You’ve known Brother Xiaobao for a long time?” Su Yun tried to make conversation.
Xiaobao cared for He Mian with meticulous attention, always reminding Su Yun to look after him. Suggestions like, “He Mian’s meals are irregular—remind him to eat on time,” or “Don’t let him stay up late,” were common.
Su Yun gently clarified that such things weren’t really part of her job description. Xiaobao slapped his palm on the table and declared, “Su, you need to have a conscience.”
His words were weighted and earnest. Su Yun’s heart trembled; well, considering her generous salary, it seemed only right to care for her boss’s health a little beyond her usual duties.
“I was beaten by some thugs once, and he saved me. The scar on his hand is from that day.” He Mian picked up a chopstick full of food and spoke with quiet understatement.
So there was such a heavy story behind it. Su Yun felt a newfound respect for Xiaobao—he was a man of chivalry and honor.
“How did Brother Xiaobao…” Su Yun wanted to know the details. Heroic rescues were her favorite tales.
“Why keep asking about another man? Am I dead to you?” He Mian interrupted.
“…”
“And another thing—stop calling him ‘Brother.’ The title is reserved for me alone.” He Mian paused, then continued, “Only for me.”
“A younger brother? Our country is founded on etiquette and hierarchy. Call me ‘sister,’” Su Yun teased, growing bolder.
After spending time with He Mian, Su Yun realized he hadn’t truly harmed her, aside from that initial threat with his ‘artistic’ drawing—he neither hit nor scolded her and was rather gentlemanly toward women.
At worst, they could settle differences in bed—who would win or lose was still uncertain.
With that thought, Su Yun grew even more daring. “Call me ‘sister,’ and I’ll buy you candy.” He Mian was a year younger than her, so it wasn’t unreasonable.
He Mian’s eyes narrowed slightly. “That could be arranged.”
Su Yun felt no sense of danger, egging him on to call her sister.
He Mian said he’d do it after dinner. Su Yun didn’t doubt him, thinking he was quite ceremonial about it.
He Mian put his chopsticks down early, sipping water and waiting. When Su Yun’s bowl was empty, he asked, “Finished?”
Su Yun drank some water and nodded.
The next second, He Mian stood up and sealed her lips with his own.
Su Yun nearly choked; He Mian drank most of her water in the process.
He Mian led Su Yun toward the bedroom, whispering “sister” in her ear the whole night, never tiring.
Su Yun regretted her boldness, cursing herself for provoking him. He Mian’s strength utterly surpassed hers.
—
Su Yun woke up in her own room, her cheeks flushed as memories of last night flooded back. He Mian had pushed her limits once again.
He Mian had taken her to his room first, then after some entanglement, carried her to the living room.
…
The recollection ended. Su Yun shook her head, scattering the fragments of memory from her mind.