Chapter 15

Song Qingre's voice was so sultry that Yan Qingqiu's ears burned. She clutched her phone, unable to type a reply for ages. By the time she snapped out of it, ten minutes had passed.

She pressed her fingers to her chest, feeling her heart beat in rhythm with Song Qingre's words. After calming herself, she listened to the message again and tightened her grip on the pen.

Yan Qingqiu pressed the voice button: "Body painting."

She instantly regretted how suggestive it sounded and retracted the message.

A reply came through.

"I heard that."

Yan Qingqiu picked up her pen to jot it down, too shy to write the full sentence. She scribbled a fragment instead, but it felt off no matter how she revised it, so she ended up recording a voice memo of the words.

That was much better.

Her brain fed back a happy little hum: Hehe, so sweet.

After listening to voice messages all night, Yan Qingqiu woke up late. She had a quick breakfast and got a call from Su Xingjie, who said she'd take her to the company to try on clothes.

Yan Qingqiu had been lazing around for so long she nearly forgot about the photoshoot. Good thing she hadn't charged any money upfront—otherwise, it would've been another debt. She was about to ask the butler to drive her when Su Xingjie said she was almost there.

Su Xingjie was a genuinely nice person—covering the money, the photos, and even the ride. Yan Qingqiu was so touched she wanted to dig up something nice at home to give her.

Su Xingjie walked in with a smile, glanced around, and saw Song Qingre's paintings everywhere. She asked, "Qiu Bao, which room does Song Qingre stay in?"

Yan Qingqiu pointed at her own door. "That one."

"Right next to yours?"

"Yep." Yan Qingqiu was already ready, bag in hand, and asked eagerly, "Are we shooting today? I didn't even train for it. Am I going to be a hassle?"

"Not at all." Su Xingjie led her out, but glanced back once. Was she really unrelated to Song Qingre?

"Qiu Bao, are you sure Song Qingre isn't coercing you?" Su Xingjie asked again.

"No way..." If anyone was coercing, it was her coercing Song Qingre!

Su Xingjie gripped the steering wheel and started the car, glancing at Yan Qingqiu, who was buckling her seatbelt in the passenger seat. "You used to burn her paintings right in front of her. Why are you hanging them up now?"

Yan Qingqiu froze mid-motion. Her chest ached. She needed to listen to Song Qingre's voice messages again. Feigning indifference, she asked, "Did I make a big scene burning her paintings?"

"Definitely. Song Qingre had just won an award, and you burned them right in front of her, calling her a disgusting freak and cursing her out. You recorded it and posted it online. She went abroad right after that. It was pretty harsh... I'm not saying you were wrong—she, she deserved it!" Su Xingjie was still defending her friend, but she was puzzled. Yan Qingqiu's behavior these past few days was off. She still acted disgusted, but it wasn't as pure as before.

Before, Su Xingjie worried she might actually stab Song Qingre. Now, she worried Yan Qingqiu would throw herself into Song Qingre's arms and never climb back out.

Yan Qingqiu felt the urge to get emotional again.

She put on her earphones, desperate for Song Qingre's voice to soothe her. Just as she tapped play, a new notification popped up on her contacts.

A stranger named "FY" added her as a friend with the message: 【Meet me today at Yue Xiang Wan West Restaurant. I have something to tell you.】

At first, Yan Qingqiu didn't recognize who "FY" was. It took her a moment to realize—Fu Ye? What a lunatic! Who'd bother with him?

Yan Qingqiu added him straight to the blacklist.

When they arrived, Su Xingjie said seriously, "You've been so weird lately. Fine, you stopped liking Fu Ye, but you've gotten nicer to Song Qingre too. If I didn't believe in science, I'd think you'd been soul-swapped."

Knowing she was joking, Yan Qingqiu's soul still quaked. She patted Su Xingjie's shoulder. "Sis, we must always believe in science."

Even if this were transmigration, it was quantum mechanics!

Yan Qingqiu followed Su Xingjie into the building when her phone buzzed with a text: 【If you don't come, I'll go find Song Qingre instead. Think it over—this is your only chance!】

Su Xingjie leaned over to look, and recognizing the tone immediately, knew who sent it. Fu Ye was inviting Qiu Bao on his own? Was the sun rising from the west?

"Gross, right?" Yan Qingqiu asked. "Only a dog would go."

The sun really did rise from the west?

Su Xingjie nodded emphatically. "Totally gross."

She shrugged off her blazer and pulled a pair of gold-rimmed glasses from her bag, slipping them on.

She wore a sharp business suit, the thin white fabric across her chest a little tight, subtly outlining a full, firm silhouette. Below was a black short skirt that showed off her long, pale legs.

Yan Qingqiu stared in awe and couldn't help but praise, "Sis, you look so hot like this."

They walked into the company, and employees nodded and greeted Su Xingjie as "President Su." She gave each a slight nod with a cool expression.

To be fair, Su Xingjie was a beauty among beauties—hair tied high, a single curved strand framing her face, her chest full but not overstated, with just the right curve to make you want to bury your head there.

Though Su Xingjie hung out with her, a fellow supporting character, every day, she was genuinely capable. Unlike Miss Yan, who came from a wealthy family, Su Xingjie had built her company from the brink of elimination, leading her team to turn things around. Her official title was art director, but she functioned like an executive president—arguably with more power than the executive president himself.

After all: "What does the president know about art?"

The shoot setup was ready, with over a dozen people waiting. Yan Qingqiu arrived late, but given her status, no one complained—they were all just there to play babysitter to a little princess.

Su Xingjie introduced her to the team: a girl with a soft pink complexion named Qiang Wei, the creative director, along with several designers and art directors.

They smoothly pulled back the curtains to reveal glass display cases filled with new-season haute couture and custom gowns.

Yan Qingqiu was shuffled through makeup and costume changes.

The process was efficient.

But the photos never quite hit the right note. Yan Qingqiu was nervous, afraid she'd embarrass Su Xingjie. Su Xingjie bit her pen cap. "The style doesn't match."

Su Xingjie reworked the styling, switching to a European royal backdrop. Yan Qingqiu sat by a table arranged with an apple as red as blood, chin resting on her hand, smiling like an elegant vampire lady.

But vampires can't live in the light—cold light fell on her lips.

The half-eaten apple rolled to her feet. She leaned forward, her slender fingers pressing against her full lips and dragging down, her mouth parting and closing as she sucked on the lines of her fingertips.

The photographer never missed a moment; the room was filled with the click-clack of shutters.

There were also a few clashing color pieces—butterfly dresses in bold red and yellow. The makeup artist wanted to give her black eyeliner, but with her natural golden curls and inherently refined aura, any disruption would ruin the artistic feel. They finally brought out a fuzzy table, like one of those cat climbing platforms. Yan Qingqiu crouched on it, tilting her head toward the camera, her eyes sparkling like amber. If she were a cat, she'd be the noblest, most aloof kitten.

"Thanks, Qiu Bao. I'll send you the edited photos later, and I'll have the clothes delivered to your place." Su Xingjie was thrilled, eyes shining at Yan Qingqiu. If this weren't her best friend, she'd want to sign her and keep her for herself.

"You're giving me the clothes too? Aren't they expensive?" Yan Qingqiu remembered marketing accounts saying celebrities rent high fashion—these dresses cost at least three to four hundred thousand.

"Not expensive, don't worry. Together they're about a million. And since you've worn them, they're not worth giving to anyone else. If you don't want them, I'll keep them for myself."

"I want them!"

Yan Qingqiu felt a bit awkward. There were washed apples on the table; she'd taken a bite earlier and it was sweet. She grabbed one, cut it in half, and shared it with Su Xingjie.

They ate together while Su Xingjie occasionally directed the crew on how to wrap up.

Su Xingjie said, "Come on, I'll show you other places. There are bags and shoes too—take whatever you want. Don't be shy."

Yan Qingqiu was so moved she didn't know what to do. She said seriously, "Sis, I... once I'm rich, I'll spend on you too."

Su Xingjie's cheeks flushed slightly. "That's the first time you've said that."

Leaving the studio, Su Xingjie took her to other floors, the company filled with clothes everywhere.

Nearby, a shoot was in progress. Sexy models hit every pose with precise perfection. Honestly, they photographed far better than she did. Yan Qingqiu asked curiously, "Hey, Xing Xing, do you have cameras I could use here?"

"Sure, the company has a few idle ones. What do you need a camera for?"

Yan Qingqiu obviously had things to do.

That bastard Fu Ye wanted to play both sides, didn't he?

Dealing with someone with that kind of male-lead aura, she couldn't take the normal route.

Su Xingjie listened to her ramble, still puzzled—but wait, wasn't it enough for her to stay clear-headed? Why did she need to drag Song Qingre out of the fire?

Su Xingjie frowned and said, "Why don't you come stay at my place today? We just renovated. The day after tomorrow there's a model show, and I need to pick models. You said you liked photography, right? Come stay a couple days, and I'll take more sets of you. Just treat it like an art shoot."

Yan Qingqiu was tempted, but she still hadn't collected the money from Song Qingre. She stopped and said, "Wait a sec, I'll text my family."

Su Xingjie craned her neck to watch Yan Qingqiu type.

Yan Qingqiu: 【I'm not coming home today, staying at Xing Xing's place. Don't forget our thing, the thing. Remember to pay me back on time】 She couldn't mention money outright with others around, especially with the body painting involved.

Song Qingre: 【I'm not coming home today either.】

Yan Qingqiu: 【Whatever, you never come home anyway.】

Song Qingre: 【Fu Ye invited me to dinner at Yue Xiang Wan today.】

Yan Qingqiu: "!"

That bastard Fu Ye!

·

On the second floor of the Yue Xiang Wan West Restaurant.

Two people had arrived early. Ye Sichun was sipping tea.

"Rare to see you. First time you've asked me out for a meal since you've been back." As she spoke, Ye Sichun glanced downstairs and spotted a stunning omega in professional attire walking in with a golden-haired beauty. "Oh, isn't that my princess?"

As she said it, she felt the gaze across from her darken.

She smiled, said nothing more, and simply observed.

Song Qingre took a sip of tea.

"She hurt you badly back then," Ye Sichun said. "Burning your paintings—you were hospitalized for three months. You nearly died."

Song Qingre propped her chin on her hand, gaze drifting out the glass window. "But she let me call her 'Sister Qiuqiu.'"

Ye Sichun didn't understand what that meant. Song Qingre was a year older than Yan Qingqiu, and when they were close, Yan Qingqiu rarely called her "Sister," though Song Qingre always styled herself as the older sister.

But her eyes looked wrong—deep, lingering on Su Xingjie with a shadowed intensity. "Hate her?"

"Not quite."

Song Qingre said, "Just hate everyone around her."

Her red lips moved, as if idly: "She said she could like anyone except me."

Ye Sichun replied lazily, "Good thing she only ever treated me as her hairstylist. Still, that girl next to her is pretty. An omega, right?"

They both looked down and watched the golden-haired girl bustle about, wiping a table for the omega and rinsing her dishes for her.

Ye Sichun propped her chin and said, "Aren't you afraid she'll get the wrong idea? You were originally here for afternoon tea with me."

"What's wrong with her getting the wrong idea? It should be even bigger."

Ye Sichun looked again—Song Qingre had already stood up. "I'll head down."

Ye Sichun looked once more. Su Xingjie seemed to have gone to grab something, leaving Yan Qingqiu alone. She propped her chin and kept watching.

She and Song Qingre weren't old friends who shared everything—she'd simply known Song Qingre as long as Yan Qingqiu had been cutting her hair.

Downstairs, Song Qingre walked up to the golden-haired girl, tapped the table with her fingers, and said, "Miss Yan."

Having listened to that voice all night, Yan Qingqiu's ears went weak at the sudden sound. She looked up, not wanting Song Qingre to know she'd come here on purpose. "What? Wait, why are you here?"

Song Qingre leaned in slightly, whispering by her ear, "I want to deal with Fu Ye quickly, so I can pay off my debt."

Yan Qingqiu's body shivered. "Don't—don't say it so dirty."

Song Qingre gave an "okay." Yan Qingqiu glanced around—Su Xingjie still hadn't returned. She said, "Let's talk in the restroom."

Their conversation was too lewd; others might get the wrong idea.

Not long after they left, Su Xingjie returned with coffee and milk. She stood in place, looking around confused, and didn't see Yan Qingqiu. She asked the waiter, "Where's the young lady who was sitting here?"

The waiter answered honestly, "A young lady just came to find her. She said something about paying back a debt, like she was asking for money, and then they left together..."

·

Song Qingre walked ahead in a soft white chiffon blouse and black trousers—simple attire not unlike the professionals around, yet her clean elegance gave her a distinct, noble air.

They didn't actually go to the restroom. They went to a small viewing balcony instead. Yan Qingqiu thought she really was old-fashioned—her first thought was always the restroom.

They stood in the corridor, and Song Qingre pulled the small door shut, leaving just the two of them.

"I brought 170,000 today. Figure out how much is still owed," Song Qingre said.

Yan Qingqiu did the mental math first, then pulled out her phone to calculate. "After last time you paid me—wait, you repaid me 10,000—so 180,000..."

Song Qingre calmly helped her recall. "There's also the handiwork. Three times, each different. Is that easy to count? The first almost went all the way, the second was hugging and groping, the third... I touched you until you were wet..."

Yan Qingqiu stared at her in shock, cheeks flushed. She'd planned to just name a random low price to let her off easy, but she actually... Yan Qingqiu closed her eyes to negotiate, typing numbers frantically, and gritted out, "398, 298, 198—total 894."

"And the kisses. First time, you forced a kiss on me. Second, you made me call you 'Sister Qiuqiu' and kissed me sitting on your lap until I couldn't breathe. Third, you pinched my nose and kissed me until I nearly suffocated. Fourth, we made out on the couch until our lips were almost swollen."

"And that time in the car... you squeezed my chest, measured with a ruler."

Yan Qingqiu was red to the ears, still calculating. She never thought all this would cost extra!

"498, 598... 998! Total 5,382! So, 185,382!"

Song Qingre glanced down at the number, frowning. "Tsk, still not at 200,000. Why is it so hard to repay? Yesterday's body painting was priced at 10,000. You know my paintings are expensive; you can pick any design, brush or pen, Chinese or oil painting, cream or pigment... Hmm, still 618 short. How about you add a 'call me Sister Qiuqiu and kiss me' package? I'll throw in extra perks..."

Before Yan Qingqiu's brain could catch up, Song Qingre's fingers brushed her lips, smudging the lipstick she'd put on earlier. She leaned in slightly, pressing her lips to her thumb, her thin lips separated from Yan Qingqiu's by just a finger's thickness, her low voice pouring into her ear, "I'll use my lips to touch up your makeup. Want it? Nod, and it counts as paying off the debt. Please?"

Yan Qingqiu swallowed, her head spinning, dazed.

So thrilling. So tempting.

She swallowed again, about to nod when—bang—the door swung open.

Outside, Su Xingjie had been eavesdropping and pushed the door open to see the two "kissing."

She was even more stunned.

Paying debts? Body painting? Utter humiliation!

An artist like Song Qingre being so perverted!

The force startled Yan Qingqiu.

"Don't agree to her!" Su Xingjie furiously yanked a pen from her bag, pulled out a stack of checks, and made to sign. "I knew you've been acting weird lately, Qiu Bao. You must be under her coercion. Tell me, how much do you owe? I'll pay it." Then, in case that wasn't enough, she pulled out a gold card and held it between her fingers, offering everything she had. As long as it wasn't tens of billions...

She gritted her teeth—she could still afford it.

"Wait, there's a misunderstanding here." Yan Qingqiu sensed something was off and tried to step back, but Song Qingre's finger on her lips pressed firmly, the pad of her thumb against her lip's center.

Su Xingjie saw that and reacted even more, rushing over to pull Yan Qingqiu away and shield her behind her. "Don't be afraid. I'm here. You want body painting—pervert! Sicko! I'm embarrassed for you! You're an artist! And here I was feeling sorry for you this morning."

Yan Qingqiu stumbled before steadying herself. She reached out and patted Su Xingjie's shoulder. "Sis, no—Xing Xing, don't be rash. It's a misunderstanding. A misunderstanding. It really is..."

Song Qingre's expression didn't waver. She lowered her eyes, folded her hands, took out a tissue to wipe the lipstick off her fingertip, then pressed her lips together. She looked at the furious Su Xingjie and the grimacing Yan Qingqiu, sighed, and bit her lip hard.

"Don't be scared, Qiu Bao. I've got you. Do you have no shame, Song Qingre? Just for a few thousand, you're making her sell herself? You came back just to get revenge on Qiu Bao, didn't you!"

"We do have a debt dispute, but it's not what you think. Don't misunderstand her." Song Qingre sighed, closing her eyes as if in pain. She said, "I owe her the money."

Su Xingjie's hand holding the card froze. "What?" She felt something was wrong. She stared at Song Qingre, whose closed lashes fluttered slightly.

Su Xingjie couldn't believe it, still thinking her ears were playing tricks. She stared at Song Qingre and asked, "Qiu—Qiu Bao, is this—is this a misunderstanding?"

Yan Qingqiu felt even worse—her mouth hurt, her heart hurt, and her face hurt the most. She closed her eyes. "No—no misunderstanding."

Su Xingjie shuddered, feeling her entire worldview collapse. She whipped her head toward Yan Qingqiu, didn't get a clear look, and turned again.

Song Qingre glanced at her. "Of course, if you want to pay my debt for me, I wouldn't mind either."

"Wait, you two—what was all that, body painting, kissing, what... you owe money, so why is she the one in your grip!" Su Xingjie didn't believe it, looking from Yan Qingqiu to Song Qingre!

Song Qingre nodded. "Don't keep humiliating me. Yes, yes, she's after my body." She closed her eyes and repeated, "She's keeping me. I'm her mistress. Saying it like that... how disgraceful."

Yan Qingqiu slowly opened her eyes and saw the idiom written all over her friend's face: Utterly Shocked.

So she squeezed her eyes shut again.