Chapter 19

Yan Qingqiu was halfway down the stairs when she heard those words and nearly slipped, stumbling headfirst. Grabbing the railing, she stared at Song Qingre in disbelief.

What? What had she said?

Song Qingre was still simmering the pear soup; the fragrance was growing richer. Yan Qingqiu's throat was already parched, and the scent made it itch uncontrollably.

She pulled back the foot that had almost missed a step, the pink slipper scraping softly against the edge of the stair. She tried to engage her brain, rapidly decoding and finding a solution, but the remnants of last night's alcohol hadn't faded, and her head was still throbbing.

Sh-shouldn't... it leak out, right?

Yan Qingqiu kept asking herself, replaying everything that happened yesterday, her gaze sweeping from the doorway to the stairs where she now stood, and the room she'd just come out of—reviewing, frantically reviewing.

It wasn't that she remembered nothing; there were a few scattered fragments. And then she realized: I think I seduced Song Qingre. Might as well let it destroy me.

Song Qingre kept her back turned, not continuing to delve into the topic, her eyes fixed on the pear soup bubbling in the pot. Yan Qingqiu tentatively made her way down the stairs, and Song Qingre turned off the flame, ladling the pears into a small bowl.

She turned around, and they faced each other.

Song Qingre looked gentle as always, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips as usual. Yan Qingqiu had looked in the mirror this morning—hungover, weary-faced, eyes still puffy. The contrast between them made Yan Qingqiu look like she'd been up all night digging a tunnel.

Song Qingre placed the pear soup on the table and said softly, "Drink this while it's hot."

Yan Qingqiu swallowed, and her throat hurt as if sand were scraping the lining. She coughed again. This was exactly what she needed; Song Qingre was too thoughtful.

Song Qingre leaned against the table, her body angled, and on the black apron around her waist was a white rabbit nibbling a carrot. Her toes met the ground, casting a long shadow. In the morning light, she looked clean and soft, radiating warmth.

Yan Qingqiu shuffled over, sat down, and picked up the bowl to drink. The pear soup was sweet. She first sipped from a spoon, and as memories slowly resurfaced, she recalled the hangover soup from last night, and how Song Qingre had fed her so gently. She'd been too dizzy then, everything a blur; she only knew Song Qingre's soft voice and a few light hums.

After a couple of sips, she drank directly from the bowl, moistening her throat, which felt much better. She licked her lips, and Song Qingre refilled another bowl for her.

This time, as she handed it over, Song Qingre took off her apron and sat across from her. Song Qingre didn't speak, but she was like a gentle teacher softening up a child who'd done wrong, waiting for them to confess.

Yan Qingqiu wept inside, wanting to lick the pear soup bowl clean.

God, what did I do yesterday?

Yan Qingqiu was usually sharp, but at this moment she turned clumsy.

No matter how she delayed, the pear soup was nearly finished. When she spoke again, her voice was much better. "That, what I said yesterday was all drunken talk—just a muddled mind and slurred speech. You don't have to take it seriously."

Song Qingre didn't speak, just fixed her bright eyes on her.

Yan Qingqiu's heart fluttered under that gaze. If Song Qingre had scolded her harshly, it would have triggered her sensitive nerves, and they'd have argued, and she could have deliberately yielded, let Song Qingre slap her, and it would be done. But this gentle, water-like manner—she really couldn't handle it, couldn't bear it...

"It seems..." Song Qingre sighed softly, "I'll just have to silently bear it."

Yan Qingqiu was thrown into disarray, but she kept her composure. "This matter, mainly, I don't remember..."

Song Qingre interrupted, throwing her exact words back at her. "'Lips hot, soft.'"

Yan Qingqiu nearly choked. These weren't words Song Qingre would fabricate, because when sober, that's exactly what she'd thought.

She looked at Song Qingre. Today, even without lipstick, her lips were red and glossy. Song Qingre bit her lower lip lightly and said softly, "What now?"

Yan Qingqiu swallowed, heart pounding. Did I kiss her?

No way.

Embarrassing as it was, if she'd kissed and didn't even feel it, that was a loss.

"I think you weren't that drunk; you could have pushed me away completely. You could have called for someone; there's a butler in the house," Yan Qingqiu said, not believing she was a powerhouse when drunk!

Even as she spoke, she couldn't help cursing herself. Yesterday she'd been so impassioned, cursing Fu Ye, and today she was here discussing mutual consent and shifting blame.

But thinking this way, Yan Qingqiu suddenly saw a way out. She said directly, "Heh, you're an alpha and couldn't push me away? Heh."

Then how could I be an omega? Slipped up, didn't I?

Song Qingre fell silent, and Yan Qingqiu felt triumphant—checkmate!

Yan Qingqiu cut off a piece of pear and put it in her mouth, her throat no longer so itchy. She thought she could still muddle through; it was a joke.

Song Qingre said, "Really not going to explain?"

"Explain what?" She chewed the pear. "You trying to blackmail me?"

"It's just... you forced me to kiss you. Although you said you're fierce and have had many women, and you're covered in the scent of omegas," Song Qingre said. "Then I struggled, and then..."

Yan Qingqiu had a vague memory; she had said something like that. She was dumbfounded. There was also an "and then"?

"Then I pushed you away, and you said, 'Baby, come here, let me tell you a secret,' and then you said you're an omega..."

Yan Qingqiu was completely stunned. This absurd story had actually connected.

"Even if you were an omega, how could you... even if I'm an alpha, I've never been toyed with before. You, you were just going to leave it at that?" Song Qingre asked, her voice low, like someone who'd been defiled and discarded.

Song Qingre looked at her with reproach. "And you told me to look at your omega characteristics. Luckily, I have morals and refused you."

Yan Qingqiu stubbornly denied it. "You refused, so you didn't see anything! I might have misspoken; isn't it normal to talk nonsense when drunk?"

"Oh, that's what I thought at the time, but I couldn't help it and secretly took a peek..." Song Qingre blinked.

"..."

Yan Qingqiu was stunned speechless. Couldn't some things be said in one go? Did it have to be so draw-out and circuitous!

Yan Qingqiu lowered her head, pretending not to hear, deny, deny—Song Qingre must be trying to trick her. But if she was tricking her, didn't that mean she already had suspicions, and deep ones at that? Damn it...

Yan Qingqiu slowly raised her head. But she hadn't fully differentiated yet; whatever Song Qingre suspected, could she make her an omega right then and there?

She'd grit her teeth and deny it. "If I say something, you believe it? You're too gullible. The truth is, I was just trying to trick you into bed so I could sleep with you."

"Really?" Song Qingre's eyes lit up. She sat up straight, propping her chin on her hand. "You think you can? Miss Omega."

Yan Qingqiu swallowed, not taking the bait this time. She sneered. "Heh, you believe me after two sentences; you're so easy to fool, so dumb. Even if I said I was an omega yesterday, it was a lie. Hahaha, that's hilarious."

Song Qingre's lips curved and she laughed. "Yes, because whatever Qiuqiu says, I believe. What if it's all true?"

Yan Qingqiu's heart grew even more hollow; she couldn't even look at her.

But at least the problem was solved, glossed over.

Yan Qingqiu swore she would never drink recklessly again.

It wasn't time for breakfast yet. Yan Qingqiu had drunk a lot yesterday, so she'd fallen asleep quickly. It was just seven now, and the household staff came to set the table.

The two young ladies sat across from each other, eating in silence.

Each ate their own portion. Yan Qingqiu clutched her chopsticks, stealing glances at Song Qingre. Though Song Qingre didn't bring up the omega matter again, her expression remained faint and inscrutable, occasionally lifting her eyes to meet Yan Qingqiu's.

Song Qingre ate her steamed egg, carrying an innate elegance, her temperament gentle as jade. She said, "Yesterday at the bar, I ran into Fu Ye. If I hadn't been there, you and Su Xingjie would've both been taken away by him."

"Taken away by him together?" Yan Qingqiu was shocked.

"What else?" Song Qingre countered.

Yan Qingqiu felt waves of lingering fear. Male leads were terrifying creatures; once drunk, they'd inevitably fool around with anyone nearby, always one-night stands.

It wasn't that she disliked all male leads, but Fu Ye just didn't look like good news—keeping one eye on the bowl and one on the pot. His character was truly unreliable. She wiped her mouth, picked up her phone, and called Su Xingjie to ask if she was okay.

Su Xingjie was still dazed about yesterday. The sound of plane leaves rustling had rung in her ears all night; she hadn't slept well and was on her way to the office now. She rubbed her temples and said, "I'm fine. Song Qingre sent me home yesterday, and she called me when you got home too. Are you okay? Anything happen?"

She still wasn't quite at ease with Song Qingre; she always felt this person was dangerous.

"Oh..." Yan Qingqiu glanced at Song Qingre, surprised she'd been so thorough. "I'm fine too..."

"Really? Your voice sounds strange!" Su Xingjie's concern warmed her. "Why does it sound like you've yelled yourself hoarse?"

Yan Qingqiu raised her voice. "Really, it's nothing. I just drank too much yesterday and took a cold shower, so my throat hurts." Cold shower... damn it, she'd dredged up a memory she shouldn't have, and a sigh slipped into her words.

Su Xingjie didn't understand. How had she ended up sighing? Was it that regrettable?

She was about to say more, but Yan Qingqiu used breakfast as an excuse to hang up. "I'll find you when I'm free."

Song Qingre continued where she'd left off. "Saying what I shouldn't, in the future, try to have less contact with Fu Ye. That man isn't exactly clean-living."

"Mm, got it."

"In the future, if you go out drinking, best to report to the family. Su Xingjie is an omega; if anything happens, you'd both be in danger."

"O-okay, got it."

Whatever Song Qingre said, she listened to, unlike before when she'd been sharp-tongued and rebutted everything. After Song Qingre finished, she felt something was missing, and just had to stubbornly add, "Oh, I'm not that stupid. I know all this."

Song Qingre said unhurriedly, "Yesterday, you were staring at me the whole time, looking pretty dazed."

"!"

Yan Qingqiu suspected that if the household staff weren't around, she'd have said, "Yesterday you begged me to kiss you, looking pretty foolish."

Yan Qingqiu lowered her head, then turned to see the butler standing in the corner, frantically writing something with a pen. Her eyes widened, and she immediately grew alert. If she had fur, it would be standing on end right now: Is he writing that I'm henpecked?

Yan Qingqiu was too embarrassed to tell the butler to stop. Remembering something she was particularly concerned about yesterday, she said, "You weren't much better; I saw you sitting and drinking with him yesterday."

"Fine, I'll listen to you from now on. From now on, I won't respond to him."

Yan Qingqiu felt slightly better inside.

Thinking of how Song Qingre had sent her and Su Xingjie home yesterday, she felt she should at least say thank you. She opened her mouth, but didn't know how to begin.

Song Qingre finished eating and wiped her mouth with a napkin. She'd have to go to work soon. Yan Qingqiu thought of a solution: since Song Qingre had driven her back yesterday, she could count it as debt repayment. She'd be generous and deduct a hundred thousand.

Yan Qingqiu got up from the chair and asked, "Where's my bag?"

The butler went to fetch it. Yan Qingqiu rummaged through it, only finding the fountain pen. She frowned. "Where's my notebook?"

The butler didn't understand, coming over to help. "When you came back yesterday, I hung the bag by the door."

Yan Qingqiu searched the bag again, but still didn't find her little notebook. She'd taken it out at the bar yesterday, and then the alcohol hit and she only wanted to throw up, so she'd stuffed it back. Had she not actually put it in?

"Your ledger?" Song Qingre asked.

"Yes." Yan Qingqiu nodded. "I think I dropped it at the bar."

"I know some people at the bar. Let me call and ask; don't worry," Song Qingre said softly, just about to call when Yan Qingqiu quickly stopped her. "No need. Maybe I just didn't bring it out yesterday; I probably left it in my room."

"Mm?" Song Qingre was puzzled.

Yan Qingqiu continued, "It's just a notebook; buying a new one is fine. No need to trouble yourself."

Song Qingre nodded. "Fine. I keep track of the debts; if there's anything you don't remember, you can ask me to check."

Yan Qingqiu's lips moved slightly, but she only nodded in agreement.

Song Qingre walked to the courtyard, and the butler went over to exchange keys with her, saying that when Yan Qingqiu vomited yesterday, it had dirtied her car, so he'd have someone wash it later.

As soon as Song Qingre left, Yan Qingqiu immediately had the butler drive her to the bar. The butler was confused. "Didn't you say you didn't lose it?"

"Don't ask so many questions; just get me there," Yan Qingqiu said, glaring at him. The butler, knowing nothing, only felt he was being treated unjustly.

The butler had no choice but to fetch another set of keys. He opened the car door, inviting their high-maintenance miss to get in, then listened to their high-maintenance miss mutter, "It's all because you didn't hand out candy or a car, you made me suffer so much."

The butler didn't understand, but dutifully drove her over.

Unfortunately, when Yan Qingqiu entered the bar and asked at the service counter and the bartender, they all said they hadn't found her notebook.

Yan Qingqiu gestured repeatedly. "It's a notebook the size of my palm. I sat at table three yesterday. Think again."

The bartender asked, "Is there something very important inside? If it's very important, you should report it to the police station, and then we can check the surveillance footage for you."

Reporting for a mere notebook wasn't worth it.

Yan Qingqiu asked, "Can't you just check the surveillance?"

"This... I have to ask my manager. After all, this is a bar; we can't just show surveillance to anyone. Different trades have their own rules. Please understand."

Yan Qingqiu tried a few more times, but the other party wouldn't budge. Displeased, she thought, I'm never coming back here again; this clearly isn't a proper bar.

Making such a big deal over a notebook did seem excessive. She was about to leave, but couldn't give up and went to press again. "If you happen to find it, remember to call me. I'll write down my number for you."

The bartender said there was no need; nobody didn't know Miss Yan.

The bartender's smile was mocking, and Yan Qingqiu guessed he was alluding to her drinking over Fu Ye. Uncomfortable all over, she didn't linger, stepping out in her high heels.

Outside, she couldn't help sighing twice. Bad luck, bad luck!

Couldn't NPCs in this game world be more polite? If you find lost property, hand it in, understand?

"Forget it. Take me to the supermarket; I'm buying a new notebook!"

...

Meanwhile.

Back at the company, Song Qingre continued handling Boss Zhang's matter.

They'd also contacted several lawyers to draft legal notices. The desk phone rang; it was her assistant. "Miss You from Sicisfeis called, saying she found something yesterday, maybe something you lost. Should I put the call through?"

Song Qingre thought for a moment, remembering it should be something Yan Qingqiu had lost. She nodded. "Tell her I'm busy; I'll come by to pick it up."

After hanging up, Sheng Huajian continued. "Boss Zhang is willing to accept the painting. Do we still need to coordinate with the media?"

"He wants to take a bite out of our territory, so we'll take a bite out of him. Use his shamelessness to build our studio's reputation. Right now, we're the ones giving him trouble."

Sheng Huajian understood: Boss Zhang had met his match.

Song Qingre finished her current tasks and drove over to pick up the item. She knew the bar owner's sister, You Liyin; they'd been classmates. You Liyin had also studied painting for a while, but once she'd achieved something, she got bored, switched to vocal music, and then got bored of that and took up opera. She could learn anything, but always ended up a dabbler—a real oddity.

When Song Qingre arrived, You Liyin was sitting at table three waiting for her, sizing her up. "Song, you're fast."

Song Qingre sat across from her and said politely, "Thank you for keeping it safe."

"Small thing. I saw your name written all over it, so I made sure it was kept," You Liyin said. "Someone came asking for it today, but I didn't give it up."

"Mm?" Song Qingre guessed who she meant. She reached for the notebook, but You Liyin held it back. "Hey, what's the rush? Chat a bit. I also have a favor to ask."

Song Qingre straightened up. You Liyin ordered drinks, but Song Qingre shook her head, saying she'd have to drive back to the office.

Song Qingre and You Liyin had been close in their school days; they were in the same class.

You Liyin held the notebook and asked, "You know who wrote this? It's pretty interesting."

Song Qingre figured she'd read the contents—Ye Sichun might have mistaken Yan Qingqiu's ledger for her having a financial crisis. "Just notes to pass the time."

You Liyin said, "Then it's a bit excessive."

"It's fine." Song Qingre smiled.

You Liyin clicked her tongue. "I remember our high school years. That neighbor girl was always coming to see you, and then you two had a falling out, right?"

Song Qingre nodded, smiling. "We're about to make up."

You Liyin said, "You haven't read what's inside yet, have you?" And before Song Qingre could speak, she raised an eyebrow. "I suggest you read it carefully."

Song Qingre said thanks, a smile on her lips.

The two chatted for a while; You Liyin shared some amusing stories. Around the time of their college entrance exams, she'd often seen Yan Qingqiu at the bar, and whenever she called Song Qingre to come pick her up, classmates would see and think, since they were still in such frequent contact after graduation, something must be going on—so even now, people assumed they'd been a thing.

"By the way, we're changing the bar's style soon. When you have time, come help us take a look." You Liyin's brother had always loved Song Qingre's artistic style and had once pursued her; You Liyin had helped deliver more than a few love letters.

Song Qingre agreed. You Liyin handed her the notebook. "Mm, but I'm not just asking for free; we'll sign a contract. I'll send someone to find you tomorrow, Miss Song. Don't go back on your word." Then she added with a smile, "The contents of the notebook are quite entertaining."

"Of course." Song Qingre put away her notebook.

Song Qingre came quickly and left quickly. She tucked the notebook away and drove back to the studio, where other work awaited. You Liyin didn't linger, just watching her go with a smile.

Back at work, Song Qingre was busy too—more commissions than expected, and they were short-handed. She only had a moment after seeing the lawyers. She was about to text Yan Qingqiu to say she'd found the notebook, but then she paused and looked up at Sheng Huajian. "Have Xiaofu bring me a coffee. Unless it's important, try not to disturb me."

"Okay."

When she opened Yan Qingqiu's notebook again, Song Qingre briefly recalled her high school days. You Liyin had told her a particularly memorable anecdote.

It was the last Christmas of their high school years. People exchanged apples, and Song Qingre, being popular, received many. Yan Qingqiu, wanting to do something different, held a huge pomelo under the teaching building, calling her name. Her face was so red she hid it behind the giant yellow pomelo, on which a big smiling face had been drawn. The snow was heavy that day.

Later, when Song Qingre saw online jokes about how schoolkids wrote—"big eyes, rosy cheeks"—she always felt it deeply, because she did remember a girl with big eyes and rosy cheeks, only she wasn't like an apple, more like a pomelo.

It was pretty funny.

The first page of the small notebook had Yan Qingqiu's own name written on it.

Yan Qingqiu's handwriting wasn't ugly; it was steady and proper, letter by letter. The handwriting was the same as before, but it looked like she wasn't used to fountain pens, often smudging it black. More often, it was her name: 【Song Qingre's fountain pen, thirty thousand!】 Beside it was a small drawn picture of a fountain pen, not well drawn. Flipping further, there was more.

【The pen holder is all black; black suits Song Qingre well】

【Song Qingre likes meat after all; I saw her eating tender beef, but she can't handle spice—one bite and she's reaching for water】

【This restaurant is so expensive, three thousand for one meal, three thousand! Song Qingre had strawberries, strawberries x10, that should be about seventy, right... and the restaurant charged three hundred for it—why not just rob us!】

【Strawberries are so sweet, tearfully eating six hundred yuan's worth of strawberries: :>_<:】

【Oh gosh, Song Qingre, songqingre... qinre, sese, song, send, send to me for qinre and sese】 Of course, 'me' was blacked out. Song Qingre held the notebook up to the light for a long moment before she could read what it said.

There were several more pages after that. Her friend must have seen this page, which was why her expression had been so odd, and she'd specifically told her to read it.

The notebook was palm-sized, and this page was especially full. The handwriting was tiny, so at a glance it was dense.

She had written: 【1. That day, Miss Yan and Miss Song had lunch together. Miss Song picked up the steak on the table and cut it for Miss Yan, gentle as ever. Their eyes held deep affection; if it lasted a second more, they'd head to a hotel for a big bed and a thunderous, earth-shaking roll. Miss Yan said, "Qingre..." Miss Song said, "Shame on you, calling me qinre."; 2. Then they couldn't hold back, and in the car, Miss Yan pressed her against the steering wheel. Miss Song trembled like a sieve, tears streaming. Yan Qingqiu, without a hint of pity, said fiercely, "Baby, you cry so much..." 3. The car was nearly wrecked; the black Maybach bounced on the road all afternoon. Miss Yan kissed her gland at the nape of her neck. "My citrus-flavored baby smells so good. Like it? If you like it, say so..."】

Song Qingre held the notebook and looked at it for a long time, a little dazed. She needed a long moment to compose herself, then she took a pen and wrote "sieve" beside "sieve"—correcting it. She was about to correct "ravaged" to "wrecked" next, but then realized, given the context, she should change "ravaged" to "collapsed."

She looked at the empty lines at the bottom and added a line herself.

That afternoon, everyone at the studio noticed that the usually composed Miss Song smiled a bit too often. She'd often raise a file to hide her face, and her usually serious work ethic seemed a bit lax.

--

Because of her good mood, Song Qingre worked efficiently and got off earlier than usual. When she returned, Yan Qingqiu was fussing in the kitchen. Not in a hurry to call out, she went upstairs first.

Yan Qingqiu came out of the kitchen, and saw Song Qingre had come back, sitting on the sofa with her long legs crossed, reading a financial newspaper. Yan Qingqiu tiptoed over to peek and saw she was on the stock page. Yan Qingqiu couldn't make heads or tails of any of it.

Dinner was at home. The butler went to tell Song Qingre something: Mr. Yan was going to come back earlier.

Song Qingre gave an "mm," and looked at Yan Qingqiu. The butler lowered his voice, mysteriously. "The miss also takes this very seriously. She's been all worked up since she heard."

Yan Qingqiu heard him: Hilarious. It wasn't excitement; it was fear of making a move.

Usually, Yan Qingqiu kept busy. While chatting with Su Xingjie, she'd gathered a lot of information and pieced together what had happened before. Because she'd been head-over-heels in love with Fu Ye, she'd made a fool of herself in their social circle, thoroughly disgracing her father. Because she never repented, the father-daughter relationship had turned sour. Her father had been disappointed in her.

From what Su Xingjie said, she'd previously wanted to marry Fu Ye. Her father absolutely hadn't agreed, but she'd insisted until she'd driven him to the hospital. Even then, he hadn't budged. Afterward, she'd planned to forcibly move into Fu Ye's villa. Her father had sent people to bring her back and lock her up for days. Finally, she'd gone on a hunger strike and caused endless scenes before her father grudgingly agreed to let them get engaged. Now, suddenly breaking it off... it was weird.

After listening, Yan Qingqiu thought, if she were her father, she'd break a child like that's legs!

Without hesitation.

Whether she lived or died wasn't the point. The point was that parents knew their daughter best. What if she didn't fool them well and they suspected her identity?

Song Qingre didn't understand her little worries and said, "Then I'll clear a day, and I'll treat Uncle to a meal. I've been staying here a few days, and it's a bit embarrassing."

The butler was about to speak when Yan Qingqiu wiped her hands and cut him off. "No need for you to worry. He'll be tired when he gets back; let's eat at home."

Song Qingre thought seriously for a moment, then said, "You have a point. I didn't think it through. Then I'll have the head chef make some dishes Uncle likes. If you need help, just ask."

Yan Qingqiu had no intention of asking for her help; she'd already settled on the menu.

The butler arranged things, about to tell the household staff to clean the villa tomorrow, when another thought struck him. He turned back and said to Yan Qingqiu, "By the way, miss, tomorrow the medical team is coming for a checkup."

"Medical team?"

Before anything had even happened, Yan Qingqiu's neck felt cold. "Why a medical team?"

Yan Qingqiu instinctively looked at Song Qingre, suspecting she was behind it. But Song Qingre showed no reaction, perfectly composed. She turned to the butler.

The butler said, puzzled, "Haven't we always had a checkup every two quarters? We haven't done one in six months, and today was the scheduled date. This morning, the master also specifically mentioned it."

Yan Qingqiu swallowed. She didn't know that—it was probably arranged before she transmigrated. She silently looked away. She hadn't even dealt with her father yet; why did she have to have a checkup? Too sudden!

"Can't I just forget about it?" She looked toward the door; Song Qingre was still reading today's paper, but Yan Qingqiu bet she wasn't actually reading it. She was faking it just to see her reaction.

Song Qingre hadn't dropped her suspicion at all; she was always looking for an opening.

"Can't it be put off?" Yan Qingqiu bit her lip and asked softly, sneaking a glance at Song Qingre. "We have so much going on lately; where's the time? Dad will be so tired when he gets back. Won't this disturb him?"

The butler said, "The money's already spent. Last time you skipped the checkup entirely. With the master coming back this time, it's best you behave. His work didn't go so smoothly this time. The checkup only takes a day, and Miss Song will have one too. It's best to get it done before the master returns, so he won't have to drag himself to arrange it."

"She's having one too?" Yan Qingqiu was totally done. That meant Song Qingre would be watching her the entire time.

The butler nodded. "You first, then the household staff. When the master's rested, we'll schedule a simple one for him too. How does that sound?"

Yan Qingqiu was even more stunned.

God, if they found out, she'd be the laughingstock of the villa!

Yan Qingqiu bit her lip again, stealing more glances at Song Qingre. She was furious but couldn't show it. "Fine, arrange it."

Then she racked her brain for a solution. Run away? Clearly not; her father was coming back. If she really ran, he'd be furious.

Yan Qingqiu got up, looked at Song Qingre, and circled around her. Song Qingre acted as if she didn't see her, even turning a page right in front of her.

So infuriating. Yan Qingqiu walked over and, as if accidentally, stepped on Song Qingre's dress shoe. Song Qingre put down the paper and looked at her. Yan Qingqiu, head bowed, said without a trace of apology, "Oops, didn't mean to."

Song Qingre crossed her legs and lifted her toe slightly. She just gave a soft "oh" and said, "You don't want a checkup, so you take it out on me."

She was strange—one moment, she seemed emotionally intelligent, saying sweet things; the next, she knew someone was upset and yet deliberately said harsh, cutting things.

"Who said I don't want a checkup?"

"I thought you were afraid someone might find out a secret, so you didn't want one," Song Qingre said more bluntly. Then she looked at her shoe, at the white smudge on the toe, and—unable to stand it—glanced at it twice more.

Yan Qingqiu gritted her teeth. Who had a secret!

She was fuming when she felt a numbness on her leg. Looking down, Song Qingre had extended her leg, the toe of her shoe rubbing against Yan Qingqiu's calf, trailing upward in a straight line.

Song Qingre looked at her and said softly, "Qiuqiu, oops, didn't mean to."

It was numb. The pressure wasn't strong, but the sensation made her whole body weak, so itchy.

Her shoe toe was hard, then hooked around her calf.

Song Qingre raised an eyebrow slightly, as if asking what was wrong. Yan Qingqiu bit her lip hard. She couldn't crack until the very last moment, but she was so angry. She turned and headed upstairs, moving fast. Luckily, the butler stepped aside quickly, or she'd have knocked him over.

The butler didn't understand. He looked at Song Qingre, who'd stopped reading, the financial paper pressed on her lap, watching Yan Qingqiu's retreating figure with a slight smile.

Song Qingre wiped her shoe with a tissue. "Alphas like us are emotionally unstable, always itching to get checked every day."

The words were like a pointer that she wasn't an alpha.

Yan Qingqiu was just angry and helpless. She clenched her fist and pounded it on the doorframe. Damn it, one day she'd get her revenge.

Endure and the seas calm; retreat and the anger grows.

Yan Qingqiu flung open her door with a loud bang.

But... what was she supposed to do?

They'd only told her now, probably because they were afraid she'd run off. They had to confirm and tell her when her father was on his way back. She couldn't very well be gallivanting around when her father was about to arrive.

Vicious, truly vicious.

Yan Qingqiu suspected the butler had been turned by Song Qingre.

After a while, she calmed down and wanted to go out, but when she opened the door, Song Qingre happened to be passing. Song Qingre looked at her. "Mm?"

Yan Qingqiu shut the door again and turned to her phone.

The feeling of meeting her father was oddly like a new bride meeting her in-laws for the first time. She started thinking about what to wear, what tone to use.

Yan Qingqiu paced the bedroom a few times, then pulled out her phone to scroll through the chat history. There were very few messages between "her" and her father; the most were things like "Dad, money," "Dad, I'm going to see Fu Ye," "Dad, I'm moving out," "Dad, I love him like life itself." Probably because the daughter was a lost cause, her father rarely replied, just saying directly: 【Just wait. I'll come back and talk to you!】

Yan Qingqiu agonized for a long while, then typed a few words in the chat box, checking them carefully.

Yan Qingqiu: 【Dad, you've worked hard. Be safe on your way back.】

So embarrassing.

Yan Qingqiu sat on the floor, covering her face. So awkward. She deleted "Dad," but after deleting it, she felt strangely sad.

She couldn't explain why—maybe because she'd been an orphan for so long, and had never experienced the fatherly love others spoke of.

She hesitated for a long time, but in the end, she kept the word "Dad." After all, it's hard to slap a smiling face!

She'd even called him Dad.

Would he respond?

She knew he might not, but she couldn't help but hope.

She waited and waited, wishing a new message would come.

She wanted to send another message but didn't dare. She'd never contacted "Dad" since coming to this world. She clenched her fist and hit the bed, then buried her face in the pillow. Under the corner of the bed, the tip of a small notebook peeked out.

Wasn't this her little notebook?

Yan Qingqiu picked it up and flipped through it, confirming it was hers. She curled her lips, feeling a bit better. At least she'd found the notebook, and that was a good omen.

Search high and low, and lo, there it is; after the dark willows and bright flowers, another village appears!

Yan Qingqiu's mood lifted, and she changed the contact name from "Old Man" to "Dad."

She also kissed her little notebook.

After all that, Yan Qingqiu took her clothes for a shower. As she washed, she consoled herself: the checkup could be faked. She could order the doctor not to leak anything, couldn't she? She was the patient; would the doctor dare be so unprofessional?

As for Father Yan, she'd play it by ear, show her acting skills.

First time meeting family—stay calm, make sure to recognize everyone, and don't be too dramatic. She took a deep breath, but lying in bed, she still wanted to cry.

What a sin.

Yan Qingqiu still couldn't sleep, worrying about the checkup and about meeting her father. She rolled over, looked at her notebook, then got up, grabbed a pen, and decided to cross out the hundred thousand she'd deducted yesterday for "drinking."

Song Qingre would have to pay it back, until she was destitute.

Yan Qingqiu was using the fountain pen she'd stolen from Song Qingre. She uncapped it with a pop and flipped through, then saw "sieve" corrected to "sieve." She froze, closed the book, and opened it again to see "bounce" corrected to "bounce." Then... she saw the last line, written in neat silver-gold script:

【"Qiuqiu jiejie, don't, don't. I'm so scared. You're so bad. I love omegas with your stamina and endurance best~"】

A few minutes later, Yan Qingqiu slammed her head into the pillow and cried.

Damn it, fuck.

She hadn't been able to sleep all night already, and after reading that...

She felt like she wouldn't sleep for days.