"Why are you both staring at me like that? Did I say something wrong?" Queenie asked, clearly puzzled.
John and Kate were still frozen in shock, their eyes locked on Queenie like she had just grown horns.
"Queenie, you're a natural actress. Even Anita would be impressed. Ever considered switching careers?" Kate teased.
Most people would be fooled by Queenie's usual air of innocence. But not Kate—she wasn't buying it. Still, she had to admit: Queenie had an incredible poker face.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Queenie replied, frowning.
Kate gave her a knowing look. Time to expose her.
"You just told me I couldn't feed John, except with salty water... so…"
Only then did Queenie realize how her words had been completely misinterpreted.
"I meant saline solution—like what patients get in the hospital!"
Saline solution?
John exhaled with relief. Of course. Queenie was far too pure to say something indecent.
"Oh… I misunderstood," Kate said with an awkward, shy smile.
"What did you think I meant?" Queenie tilted her head, still confused.
"Ha ha…"
Kate leaned in and whispered something in Queenie's ear.
The next second, Queenie's eyes flew open, and her cheeks burned red.
"Kate! What goes on in that head of yours? You're so… naughty!" she scolded, glaring in disbelief.
But Kate's words replayed in her mind—unbidden, vivid, and scandalous.
No! Stop it!
She gave her head a firm shake to clear it. Then, redirecting her flustered energy, she grabbed John by the ear.
"I expect this from Kate, but what about you? What's your excuse?"
Judging from the look on his face, John had clearly been thinking the same thing.
John said nothing. He wouldn't dare.
Later that night.
Kate insisted on sleeping with John in her arms. Queenie, surprisingly, didn't object. Kate was injured, after all—and Queenie trusted John's self-control. She believed he wouldn't cross any lines.
But sleeping beside Kate turned out to be pure torment.
Even in her sleep, her hands refused to stay still, constantly groping and shifting. John was on edge the entire night.
And it didn't stop there.
Second night. Same thing.
Third night? No different.
By the fourth night, John had reached his breaking point.
When Kate finally fell asleep, he gently moved her hand aside, got up, and trudged to the living room. He collapsed on the couch, staring blankly at the ceiling.
Why is life so hard?
He lay there, unmoving, not knowing how much time had passed.
Then—click—the door to Queenie's room opened. She stepped out, rubbing her eyes, still groggy.
She had gotten up for the bathroom. Too much milk before bed.
"Why is the living room light still on?—John?! You scared me half to death!" Queenie gasped, clutching her chest.
"Sorry. I couldn't sleep," he said quietly. "Haven't been able to for days."
Queenie blinked. "You can't sleep? Really? I thought you'd be enjoying yourself with Kate next to you."
There was a trace of mockery in her tone.
She knew exactly how John felt about Kate. And Kate—beautiful, affectionate, and unaware—kept clinging to him, night after night. But John hadn't dared make a move. He could only look.
And now, even that came at a cost.
If Kate weren't sleeping in his arms, at least he wouldn't be tortured by temptation. But this?
This was hell.
"Are you… gloating?" John asked with a wounded expression.
"Well, yeah. Serves you right," Queenie said, chuckling. "I think this 'nameless divine skill' you're practicing might be good for you after all. Keeps you from doing anything stupid. Ha!"
She tilted her head back and laughed loudly.
"You're just jealous," John blurted out.
Queenie stopped laughing.
"What did you just say?"
John looked her straight in the eyes.
"I'm not an idiot, Queenie. I've noticed. Every time I talk to Alice, you show up and interrupt. Every single time."
"And now? You're enjoying watching me suffer. That's jealousy too. Admit it. If Kate weren't injured, you would've dragged her out of my room by now."
"You love me, Queenie. And it's not the kind of love a sister has for her brother."
A heavy silence filled the room.
Queenie lowered her head. For once, she had no immediate retort.
John's chest puffed with pride.
Gotcha.
"Now it's my turn to gloat," he said smugly. "I just exposed your true feelings. Bet you're too embarrassed to laugh now, huh?"
He was right.
Queenie did love him. She had hidden it well, played the cold, rational sister—but deep down, her heart was anything but detached.
And now?
Now her secret was out.
Any normal girl would be panicked if her crush caught on. Even more so for a woman like Queenie—aloof, decisive, always in control.
But she composed herself.
After spending so much time around John, she had developed a higher threshold for his antics.
She stepped closer. Her voice dropped to a whisper as she leaned near his ear.
"Yes… you're right," she breathed. "I love you."
John's eyes widened.
"I love you so much that sometimes I want to give myself to you right now…" she said, her voice soft and intoxicating. "But if I did that… it would disrupt your cultivation method. What am I supposed to do?"