Maxing Out Charisma, Inheriting Game Assets 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.

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 i