Chapter 94: Whispers of Rivalry

In a two-story villa in Ziteng City, Jiang Jingshi, the eldest Jiang daughter, sat in the first-floor living room wearing high heels and a dress, sipping coffee on the sofa.

The sisters boasted stunning looks thanks to their parents, but while Jiang Qian was as cold as ice, her older sister Jiang Jingshi was far gentler, perfectly capturing the essence of a caring sibling.

She sat with her legs neatly together, exuding poise, her coffee steaming in her hands as she blew on it with red lips and took a simple sip: “Qianqian hasn’t left her room in days?”

Fang Meng sat on the sofa nearby, pouring coffee for herself: “Exactly three days now—it’s the longest she’s ever shut herself away since we were kids.”

Jiang Jingshi took another sip of coffee:

“Is her opponent that tough this time? Qianqian’s faced unbeatable foes before, but she’d usually lock herself in for half a day at most, then find a way to crack it. This time, she’s been in there for three days without food or water.”

Fang Meng lifted her cup: “This one’s different. He’s got her beat in every way—looks, build, grades, physique, stamina, talents, starting point, age, and even piano, her specialty. He’s the most gifted guy I’ve ever seen.”

Hearing Fang Meng’s string of praises, Jiang Jingshi raised an eyebrow: “That impressive all around? And he’s a guy?”

Fang Meng nodded, glancing toward Jiang Qian’s room upstairs: “Still, I know Qianqian’s personality. No matter how strong the opponent, she’ll find a way to overcome it.”

She recalled countless childhood episodes where, in her eyes, Jiang Qian might get knocked down but always climbed back up, unbreakable at her core.

No sooner had they finished speaking than Jiang Qian’s door creaked open, and both Jiang Jingshi and Fang Meng turned to look upstairs.

Until the door swung fully open.

Out stepped Jiang Qian in pajamas, her hair a messy tangle, still beautiful but looking worn out.

Jiang Jingshi smiled gently: “Qianqian, did you break through?”

Jiang Qian eyed the two in the living room: “No, I just haven’t eaten in three days and I’m starving. Xiaomeng, get me some breakfast quick—I’m fading fast.”

Fang Meng stood up: “Got it, Qianqian. Eat in your room or come down?”

Jiang Qian replied casually: “In the first-floor dining room, and throw in a glass of milk.”

“Sure.” Fang Meng smiled softly, thinking Qianqian might keep secluding herself, but it seemed she’d come up with a plan.

Soon, Jiang Qian descended in her pajamas and settled at the dining table downstairs.

Fang Meng brought the breakfast and smoothed out her tangled hair as Jiang Qian ate with elegant speed: “Another serving, please.”

Fang Meng blinked in surprise: “Okay… just a moment.”

She delivered the second plate, and Jiang Qian devoured it just as quickly, her hungry stomach finally easing as her expression softened.

Seeing her sister back to normal, Jiang Jingshi finished her coffee, checked the time, and headed out: “Glad you’re okay. When are you heading to school, Qianqian?”

Jiang Qian glanced at her: “This afternoon.”

Jiang Jingshi said, “Good luck,” and left the house.

Fang Meng sat beside her: “So, what’s the deal, Qianqian?”

“What do you mean?” she asked, puzzled.

“I mean that boy, Lin Zheng Ran.”

Jiang Qian froze at the name, her face flushing red as she stared at the table in silence.

Fang Meng stared, baffled by the rare shy expression on Jiang Qian’s face—it was a first.

Of course, Jiang Qian’s feelings for Lin Zheng Ran weren’t quite admiration yet; after her long seclusion, she’d developed an intense curiosity syndrome.

For three days, she’d been in her room, her sharp mind racing through ways to surpass him.

She’d brainstormed thousands of possible strategies, from cramming literature to sleeping just two hours a night for piano practice, even extending her workouts to extreme lengths.

But after endless mental simulations, the gap still felt like a stream against an ocean.

Truly insurmountable.

This sparked a question: How had Lin Zheng Ran, from an ordinary background, reached such heights?

Even with his natural talent and genius, outshining her in everything must have taken immense effort.

So, her curiosity about Lin Zheng Ran grew from mild to overwhelming, filling her thoughts.

In the end, after three days without food, her nerves frayed, leading to this odd fixation and a touch of unintended awe.

Fang Meng caught on and panicked: “Qianqian! I’ll call a doctor—you’re not well!”

Jiang Qian grabbed her phone, face still red but with some sense left: “No need, I’m just a bit interested in him. It’ll pass in a few days, really.”

Fang Meng had never seen her like this: “Your expression says otherwise. I hope it does clear up soon.”

In that moment, Fang Meng sensed something unusual was brewing.

That morning, Jiang Qian napped, then dressed and freshened up, feeling revitalized.

She hopped in the car to school, and Fang Meng noticed she seemed her usual self, breathing a sigh of relief.

Once at school, the two spotted Lin Zheng Ran heading from the dorm to class in the distance.

Jiang Qian’s cheeks turned pink.

Fang Meng was stunned.

“Qianqian, are you okay?”

Jiang Qian looked away shyly, her voice laced with girlish hesitation: “I’m fine.”

“You don’t seem fine. Really, no hospital?”

Jiang Qian covered her flushed face with one hand: “Seriously, I’m good.”

Fang Meng: “Don’t scare me like this…”

Inside the teaching building, Jiang Qian skipped the classroom and went straight to the homeroom teacher to request a seat change.

Her reason was straightforward, and her expression normal: “Teacher, I think sitting next to Lin Zheng Ran will boost my grades even more. Could you switch me so we’re desk mates?”

Surprisingly, the homeroom teacher pulled out the new seating chart after military training and said:

“I’ve already made that change. I’ve also assigned our class monitor and deputy. Your grades are outstanding, and you both have knowledge far beyond the others, so I figured you’d work well together.”

Jiang Qian glanced at the new chart and the monitor assignments.

It listed Lin Zheng Ran as class monitor and Jiang Qian as deputy.

Jiang Qian didn’t speak, but this was her first time being second to someone.

As deputy monitor.

Back in class, the teacher announced the seat changes at noon.

And revealed the monitor, deputy, and other committee roles.

Lin Zheng Ran wasn’t too surprised about Jiang Qian as his desk mate; high school wasn’t like middle school—it prioritized grades, so pairings like this happened.

Often putting top students together.

But once seated, Lin Zheng Ran noticed Jiang Qian with her flushed face, flipping through a book with an icy aura—looking both feverish and distant, a weird mix.

He paused, wondering if she was coming down with something.

Out of nowhere, Jiang Qian asked: “Monitor, how much time do you usually spend studying?”

Lin Zheng Ran met her serious gaze and replied offhand: “It varies, but basically whenever I have time.”

“Same as me. Thanks for answering.” Jiang Qian mentally noted his habits like jotting in a notebook.

She pressed on: “You’re already reading advanced books, right? What’s the latest one you’ve got?”

Lin Zheng Ran blinked, hit by a sense of déjà vu.

“Methods and Experimental Design in Ecology.”

It was just like when Han Wenwen used to track his routines, but Jiang Qian’s focus was all on studies.

Jiang Qian paused: “That’s not a high school book, is it?”

“No, it’s a required course for ecology master’s programs. Just something I’m skimming.”

Jiang Qian: “.”

In her eyes, the gap yawned like a thousand-meter canyon.