Chapter 2

The dense summer heat rushed to meet her, the sun hanging high overhead, everything around glaring under the intense light. Yan Qingqiu stood at the entrance with a thin sheen of sweat on her forehead.

She wanted to go back in time and slap herself awake.

But could she really be blamed for this? Who doesn't pull some ridiculous stunt while playing a game?

It was obviously the game's fault—baiting her with a beautiful woman, luring her in until she let loose and went wild.

Afraid of wasting time, she didn't dare dwell on her anger. She gave herself three seconds to steady her breathing, then turned to look at the "knowing" butler.

At least she needed to figure out the situation so no one would think she'd lost her mind.

A simple matter of knowing the enemy—if she were about to be killed, at least she'd know who to run from.

"What's my relationship with them?"

The butler was about to speak when Yan Qingqiu cut in, "Describe it at double your normal speed."

The butler didn't suspect anything—the young miss often acted strange, after all. He sped through his explanation: "Fu Ye is your fiancé, on the verge of marrying you. He used to be infatuated with Miss Song Qingre, always declaring his love for her from afar. Today, without informing you, he secretly arranged to meet her behind your back... You care for him so deeply, yet he wants to have both his rose and his moonlight, unwilling to let go—it's truly infuriating."

After speaking, the butler felt a bit puzzled.

Why would the young miss want to hear this?

He turned to look and saw his young miss with a tight face, fingers clenched into fists, seemingly building up her anger.

The butler added, "Miss Song only returned from abroad a few days ago..."

"Song Qingre..." Yan Qingqiu repeated the name.

Even her name sounded like trouble.

"Just wait. I'm going in there right now to knock his dog head off."

"From what I know, it seems Miss Song Qingre owns a Doberman," the butler immediately imagined a scenario where Fu Ye hadn't been careful about hiding evidence, and a few dog hairs were found by their young miss.

The butler was confused. "What are you planning to do?"

Yan Qingqiu was running out of time. She couldn't afford to hesitate any longer.

She walked while asking the System: 【Is there no shortcut?】

System: 【Not currently. It seems you never considered taking a shortcut—you wanted to handle both of these personally.】

That was true.

Beating up a scumbag and kissing a beautiful woman—no sane person would dare do that in real life, so she'd wanted to have some fun in the game.

But the game had turned into reality, and now she might die.

The butler watched as the young miss charged in, looking mighty and determined.

Fu Ye had his back to her and hadn't noticed her arrival. But the beautiful woman kept watching Yan Qingqiu, her striking face growing clearer with each step closer.

There was a huge difference between reality and the game. In reality, the beauty was alive—every glance, every smile was full of life. A few hours ago, Yan Qingqiu had been seduced by that beauty, wanting to see an out-of-control expression on Song Qingre's face, wanting to take things further, wanting to toy with her body. Now she only wanted... Well, she was still thinking about the other woman's lips.

With every step she took.

Yan Qingqiu's mind flashed through possibilities—how could she touch Song Qingre's lips? Maybe she could shyly and adorably throw herself into her arms, begging for a kiss... But that would be too out of character. Would Song Qingre shove her away, then beat her dog head off and hit her every time she saw her from then on?

"Is that so? Then, between me and her, who do you think is better?" Song Qingre's tone was calm, as if she'd casually responded to Fu Ye's words—and Yan Qingqiu happened to hear it clearly.

Fu Ye, however, was stirred by the question. Without hesitation, he looked into Song Qingre's eyes with sincerity and deep affection, saying, "You."

"And her?"

"Qingqiu..." Fu Ye drew out her name. "She's still the same—willful, immature. There's always been a place for you in my heart... Actually, you're different from everyone else."

The implication was clear: the moonlight was unattainable, but now that the moonlight had returned, what did a mere rose matter?

Wasn't this just gazing at the moon while tending his roses?

Scumbag. So "different."

Fu Ye was still talking when he felt a chill beside him. As he tried to turn, a high heel struck him square in the forehead. He hissed, his head spinning. Yan Qingqiu grabbed the heel and slammed it against his shoulder. What an idiot—she couldn't stand to listen to another word, and she had no guilt about hitting him.

"Yan—ouch—Qingqiu, let me explain..." Fu Ye raised his hand to block, but even his hand got smacked. "Let go of me!"

Yan Qingqiu swung wildly, hitting him over and over until her body burned with heat. But Fu Ye's neck stayed stubbornly straight—his head didn't tilt at all. He grabbed her wrist with a grip so strong it felt like her bones would break.

"You misunderstood." Fu Ye looked her straight in the eye, as if he were the innocent one and Yan Qingqiu was the one in the wrong. "Stop making a scene here."

"You're exactly what I'm hitting, you scumbag!"

Yan Qingqiu swung another heel at him, but before she could strike again, Fu Ye shoved her away hard, his eyes blazing. He raised his hand as if to slap her across the face. Yan Qingqiu, barefoot on the floor, stumbled backward and nearly fell. She grabbed the table for support, her shoe falling to the ground, and looked up to see the woman across from her.

Song Qingre had been watching from the sidelines all along, her fingers curling around a coffee cup, her thumb tracing the porcelain rim absentmindedly. The interest in her eyes suggested she was enjoying the show.

Remembering Task ② that followed, Yan Qingqiu let herself fall naturally, landing in the seat beside Song Qingre. A faint citrus fragrance drifted over, teasing her neck—so sweet.

Song Qingre didn't move. After a few seconds, she turned to look at Yan Qingqiu, her expression exactly matching the phrase from the first question: "Eyes shimmering with charm, red lips moist."

So this is how stunning she looks in reality...

Yan Qingqiu steeled herself, leaning closer to Song Qingre, pressing forward.

Just then, Song Qingre's lashes fluttered. Her fingers pressed between them, stopping Yan Qingqiu's advance. Having held the coffee cup for so long, Yan Qingqiu could feel the warmth radiating from her fingers.

Yan Qingqiu's cheeks flushed bright red.

That was weird...

Song Qingre spoke, her voice questioning: "Are you planning to hit me too?"

Even if it didn't have the same seductive pull as in the game, the voice didn't lie. Yan Qingqiu instantly recognized it—the character in the game hadn't been voiced by some CV, but by Song Qingre herself.

Her voice had a lazy, alluring quality that kept Yan Qingqiu warm. She pressed closer, trying to speak in a softer tone: "Move your fingers away."

But to everyone else, it looked like she was gritting her teeth, ready to devour someone. Fu Ye couldn't stand her willfulness any longer, shouting harshly, "Yan Qingqiu, stop it! Who are you trying to scare?"

Yan Qingqiu kept her eyes on Song Qingre. The fingers were still between them. She leaned in further until her lips brushed against those fingers.

They touched...

Song Qingre raised an eyebrow slightly. "Hm?"

Yan Qingqiu's brow trembled. She couldn't go through with it—she was afraid of Song Qingre. This woman could entice, but she could also cut down players.

"I... My hand hurts a bit." Yan Qingqiu said softly.

"Oh." Song Qingre nodded.

"..."

Yan Qingqiu bit her lip and moved in again, deliberately rubbing her lips and chin against the slender fingers. Song Qingre's gaze flickered. She shifted back, her arm brushing against the booth with a faint sound. She met Yan Qingqiu's gaze with composure, and slowly, Yan Qingqiu's ears turned red—burning.

System: 【Three minutes left. Friendly reminder: a kiss needs to last about two minutes to qualify as suffocating.】

Time slipped by like water.

Yan Qingqiu couldn't think of how to complete the task gracefully.

Looking at the female lead now, she felt a little miserable and wanted to cry. Forget suffocation—she'd never even kissed anyone before. She'd never been in a relationship.

Yan Qingqiu glanced at her nose.

Instead of playing coy, maybe she should be more forceful—pinch Song Qingre's nose to stop her breathing and kiss her. Then Song Qingre wouldn't be able to breathe, and she'd be suffocated.

"What are you thinking?" Song Qingre saw through her little scheme, pressing her palm against Yan Qingqiu's forehead and pushing her away with some force.

To Fu Ye, Yan Qingqiu's recent actions had taken a different meaning. Her expression was too fierce. He stood up and tried to pull her away, tossing her aside, and stepping in front to protect Song Qingre.

Yan Qingqiu raised her hand and swung again.

"Again?" Fu Ye turned to look at her, frowning, his tone cooling. "Yan Qingqiu, my patience has its limits."

The café was grand and elegant, with a grand piano in the center. The piano music had stopped the moment Yan Qingqiu barged in, and the scene she'd caused made everyone hold their breath.

Yan Qingqiu tilted her chin up slightly, her pretty face full of contempt. Combined with her earlier actions, she looked like a spoiled, unreasonable brat who did whatever she pleased.

In reality, she was panicking inside.

Fu Ye, having been hit, clearly couldn't save face. The reminder in Yan Qingqiu's head buzzed again, urging her to go for it once more.

Fu Ye said in a low voice, "Don't force me to call off—"

"The engagement!" Yan Qingqiu cut him off immediately.

Fu Ye froze, not reacting for a long moment. "Do you even know what you're saying?" His brows furrowed deeply. "Think it over. Don't come begging me later—I won't marry you even if you throw a tantrum."

Yan Qingqiu wasn't listening. She kept staring at his face. In novel terms, it was a rare kind of handsome—so handsome that tycoon heroes had a face to match. Sure enough, a scumbag with a rock-hard head and an unbreakable neck. No matter how hard she hit, it wouldn't tilt.

Yan Qingqiu's hand was sore from hitting, her palm burning.

Fu Ye stepped forward, intending to grab her hand and drag her out before she embarrassed him further. Yan Qingqiu instinctively recoiled from his touch, pulling back. "Don't touch me."

Fu Ye's face darkened. He turned to Song Qingre and said, "I'll contact you about the exhibition later. My apologies for today."

Then he glanced at Yan Qingqiu. "I'll have a proper talk with your parents. Like I said, you're simply unreasonable."

With that, he straightened his sleeves, turned coldly, and said, "Also, Yan Qingqiu, there will come a time when you beg me. Your family's business... just you wait."

Yan Qingqiu was furious. He cheats, and then he threatens her?

Her ears were full of reminders.

【Sorry, Host failed Task ①.】

【Countdown begins!】

【100 seconds!】

She didn't need the System to tell her; Yan Qingqiu already knew, since...

Fu Ye walked away without his head tilting even a fraction.

His head really was made of iron!

Yan Qingqiu was furious at this scumbag. She held onto her sanity enough not to seriously injure his head or neck—if she killed him, she'd go to prison even if she survived.

System: 【Host can try striking his shoulder. It seems Fu Ye's weak point is there.】

"Why didn't you say so earlier?"

Everyone for themselves; heaven and earth may judge.

Yan Qingqiu followed him a few steps. Fu Ye heard her approach and stopped, posturing as if waiting for her to beg him to reconsider. Yan Qingqiu gathered all her strength, rose slightly on her toes, aimed for the spot the System had indicated, raised her hand, and brought it down in a sharp chop.

In case once wasn't enough, she did it again—chopping, chopping with all her might.

Everyone in the café saw it: the Yan family's spoiled little princess, as if trying to kill Fu Ye, swinging her hand and chopping at his shoulders repeatedly.

Other couples fought with little fists to the chest.

But the Yan princess? Chop, chop, chop you to death.

Savage.

Even Song Qingre, who had been watching like a spectator the whole time, let her lips curl up slightly at the sight.

The chop didn't work, so Yan Qingqiu threw a punch instead.

Damn it, she was so mad she was getting carried away beating this scumbag.

Fu Ye had been standing perfectly straight, unmoving. But when he tried to turn and look, his waist gave way. He barely caught himself on a nearby table, but he still couldn't hold it, and his neck tilted down bit by bit.

Not only was his cervical spine in pain, but his lumbar spine seemed to give out too.

In front of everyone, his neck—just like that—tilted.

He tried to straighten it, but the pain was unbearable.

"?"

Even the most handsome face couldn't survive a crooked neck. Fu Ye stared at Yan Qingqiu in disbelief, his neck twisted, his lips moving as if to speak, but when he glanced around, everyone was staring at him in shock.

Yan Qingqiu was breathing hard, her mind full of the System's 【Congratulations】 and 【Keep it up】.

Song Qingre seemed to have finished watching the show, rising from the booth to leave. Yan Qingqiu hurriedly grabbed her arm.

The two of them brushed past Fu Ye.

When Fu Ye looked at them, he tugged his neck and winced, squinting in pain.

He blinked again, maintaining his crooked-neck posture to watch. Yan Qingqiu didn't get far—her body suddenly lost its balance and lurched backward. Song Qingre reacted quickly, reaching out to steady her waist.

But the moment Song Qingre caught her, Yan Qingqiu seized the chance, shoving Song Qingre back against the wall, gripping her shoulders and pressing forward. Under the stunned gaze of everyone, she leaned in urgently and kissed Song Qingre on the lips.

Because his neck was crooked, Fu Ye's line of sight was slightly skewed.

Coincidentally, the light outside fell on the café entrance, bathing both women in sunlight. Yan Qingqiu's white dress brushed against Song Qingre's black velvet.

Because of the white's aggressive intrusion, Song Qingre had to step back, her long legs catching the flowing hem of Yan Qingqiu's white dress.

It was a scene of breathtaking beauty.

Very lovely.

But that wasn't the point.

The point was—Yan Qingqiu had gone too far!

She actually kissed Song Qingre?

Yan Qingqiu also felt she was too much. Her heart was pounding wildly, her chest aching from the rapid thrumming. If she separated from Song Qingre, she might drop dead at any moment.

She didn't want to die—she needed this kiss to survive.

But if their lips parted, she might die.

Fortunately, Song Qingre didn't push her away.

The citrus scent grew stronger, and that thirst—the urge to bite down and release the juice—surged up.

Even in the face of death, she still had a sense of shame.

Yan Qingqiu wept inside, her face red to the ears, but her lips told the truth: so sweet.

She breathed deeply, feeling her hot breath brush against Song Qingre's nose. Song Qingre's eyes hadn't moved until Yan Qingqiu's breath slowed, then her long, curling lashes fluttered gently.

Suffocating a white moonlight with a kiss was far harder than knocking Fu Ye's dog head crooked.

Song Qingre's fingers slid up from her waist, pressing gently against her chest, pushing her back slowly. When they separated slightly, her voice was soft, her thin lips brushing against Yan Qingqiu's lip.

As she spoke, it seemed like she pressed in a little.

Tingly, numb. Song Qingre asked, "Still not pulling away?"

Yan Qingqiu's heart ached, but she pressed closer again. "Don't pull away."