Chapter 26

The link that popped up sold out in an instant.

Everyone was stunned, including Yan Qingqiu herself. Her fingers trembled slightly. The power of the masses was far greater than she had imagined.

Fu Ye's lawyer and Fu Ye himself: "?"

The phone that was being taken off the drawing board fell onto the table a beat too late. It was picked up only after a voice sounded from within for a long while.

The people watching the livestream on-site were dumbfounded. This wasn't part of the plan. But damn, they wanted to buy along too.

Yan Fu's secretary snapped back to reality first, asking, "Miss... has she really never worked a job before? It feels like she kind of understands livestreaming."

Yan Fu was so shocked he stood up, signaling to Yan Qingqiu to take it easy, not to go too far. Rolling over eighteen oil-slicked models was truly not okay.

As a father, he really couldn't bear to watch.

Yan Qingqiu was a bit flustered, but she stayed calm enough. She instinctively tucked her hair behind her ear.

That motion instantly exposed her reddened ears.

Really! With Dad watching, she couldn't let loose. It's not like she was going to roll over the models or anything—what was there to be nervous about? Had they never seen the world?

Ha. This kind of opportunity? Bring it on, give me all of it. If it weren't for the livestream's limitations holding me back, I'd be even bolder.

Yan Qingqiu glanced toward Yan Fu, signaling him to sit down and not disturb her work.

People who bought on impulse would inevitably refund, which played right into Yan Qingqiu's hands. She made a show of rubbing her fingers, lying down as if to roll, then sat back up to check the backend. She frowned, stood up, and started strategizing. "Fine, you guys don't really want to watch that much—lots of people are refunding. So let me just say this: if you want to see it, remember, today's entire stock sells out with no refunds. I'll re-list the links and we'll try again. You're making me lose face. I've lost all interest now. And I actually wanted to roll. Normally, when I act like this, my dad scolds me. You guys are such killjoys."

To everyone's shock, Yan Qingqiu's attitude said: she knows livestreaming, but not deeply.

Obviously. What streamer would dare roll over eighteen models?

The livestream room was filling up with more and more people. Her antics left everyone dumbfounded. They'd guessed she'd use this to sell goods, that the cover and reality wouldn't match, but they hadn't expected it to be this far off.

Too spicy.

Yan Qingqiu calmly picked up the essential oil. "This stuff is great; I use it myself. Today, I'm giving away a thousand bottles as a gift. Order again, and no refunds, okay?"

The audience caught a glimpse of her ears, and they went wild, cheering and screaming, making things even livelier. The 1888 set was a must-buy. Not for any other reason—just to see the beauty roll over eighteen oiled models.

The models lying on the floor were stunned, too afraid to move. Before coming, they'd only been asked if they could endure hardship and hard work. They hadn't expected... well, it wasn't wrong. It was indeed physical labor...

But if they'd known it was this kind of labor, they wouldn't have come so readily. They'd have asked for more money!

The trending topics were going crazy. These eighteen models were relatively new, each with not just good faces but perfect bodies. If she rolled over them and then back...

They dared not even think about it.

Even those who wanted to refund hesitated. What if they missed it? At least watch the roll first.

Yan Qingqiu wasn't stupid. She didn't believe they'd sell out in one go.

As long as people refunded, she'd introduce the next product. Heh.

Then her assistant raised a finger and said, "Miss, link #4 is sold out... #3 is empty too, #6 has limited stock..."

Yan Qingqiu started to panic.

She glanced at the barrage. Whoa, it was moving so fast she could barely read it.

"W-wait... I don't think we need to be this quick. Let's introduce the products first," Yan Qingqiu said, grabbing a product from the table. "This is our new product, the Princess series. The Golden-Haired Princess series has eighteen sets. The covers are painted by the modern artist Miss Song Qingre, and they're signed... Look closely."

"Link #18 is sold out," the assistant said.

Yan Qingqiu couldn't continue. She saw the barrage messages:

【Joke's on you. We don't care about the lotion. We care about whether you'll roll over eighteen oiled models.】

【If it sells out today and you don't roll, we'll never trust Yan's again. But if you roll, I'll buy every day and become your fan.】

【Yeah, yeah. It's just 1888. Buy it ≈ roll now!】

【Damn, this move made my vision go dark. Good thing my eyes are big, so I blinked them back.】

【Boo-hoo, is there any link left to grab? Want to contribute!】

Yan Qingqiu swallowed hard. She almost wanted to tell the models to get up. She reminded them again, "This item is pre-sale. Pre-sale deposits can't be refunded. It'll take several days to ship. Do you need it? Don't order casually. Refunds and reorders are annoying."

As she spoke, she caught a glimpse of a barrage message:

【If I give you a billion, is this how you play?】

Was that from Song Qingre? Impossible. How could it be that precise!

Yan Qingqiu could barely stand. All the words she'd prepared were useless. She didn't dare ask the assistant how much had sold. She was panicking. The secretary poured her a glass of water, and she took a sip.

The barrage was all: 【She's panicking! She's really panicking!】

【Roll, roll, roll! I want to see!】

Meanwhile, Fu Ye, who was watching the livestream, was dumbfounded. He felt that "roll" was aimed at him. What was Yan Qingqiu doing? She was actually going to roll over eighteen models! He didn't mind her selling goods in his name, but he minded her rolling over other people.

She'd come up with this move—it was abnormal.

Why didn't she talk about their love-hate relationship...

Fu Ye wanted to play dirty and report Yan Qingqiu's livestream, but since she hadn't rolled yet, a report wouldn't get her banned.

Yan Qingqiu was also thinking: if they really sold out and she rolled, the livestream would probably get banned... right? It would get banned, right?

Great. If it gets banned, I won't have to roll.

During the livestream, her bag was hanging on a chair nearby, and her phone kept vibrating. The staff asked if she wanted to check it. It wasn't that they were worried about an emergency, but the sound was leaking into the livestream, and people were saying she was too cowardly to roll over eighteen models.

Yan Qingqiu gave them a look, telling them to go turn off her phone and continue selling.

Soon, the topic was diluted. Suddenly, the screen was flooded with tips.

The assistant beside her reminded her to thank the donors.

Yan Qingqiu cleared her throat and said, "Thank you, FY, for the Love Cruise Ship... x5..." She frowned. FY?

Fu Ye was trying hard. He had his whole company flood the topic, even hired bots, trying to get Yan Qingqiu to revisit their romance. But it was completely buried under comments like "Wow, the oil is still so moist after all this time" and "I'm different; I want eighteen oiled models to do push-ups on me." After fuming for a while, he gave up.

Yan Qingqiu wanted to curse at him for being an idiot. Why was he showing off here? And he'd sent more than ten Love Cruise Ships. Unbelievable. If he had that kind of money, he might as well send it to me. Thanks. I'm not that noble. Give me a 500 million breakup fee, and I'll take it and say goodbye, friend.

The Love Cruise Ships were so annoying.

Damn. He'd been sending them for half an hour.

Yan Qingqiu finally snapped, "Are you insane? You're still sending them? Love Cruise Ship? Cruise your whole family's sixteen members' heads!"

After cursing, she told the assistant to ban the account. So annoying.

When Yan Qingqiu looked at the barrage again, she nearly lost it. Some genius had followed up with: 【She knows my family has sixteen members. She has me in her heart.】

Soon the barrage started again, this time with sixteen Love Cruise Ships.

Yan Qingqiu was about to curse, but she glanced at the new name at the top.

She thought about it. Money still had to be made, so she said, "Thank you, 'Song', for the Love Cruise Ship. So generous. Everyone's generous. Let's continue selling."

When Yan Qingqiu went to grab more products, the assistant hinted again, asking if she wanted to ban the account.

"Okay, okay. Thank you, Miss Song, for the Love Cruise Ship and the Forever Lover. Miss Song, hang on a sec. Let me introduce a product first."

Damn, so embarrassing...

Maybe netizens just liked watching cringe, because more people flooded in. After the product intro, the link went up, and that expensive set sold out in seconds again.

Yan Qingqiu was genuinely panicking. At this rate, she'd really have to roll over eighteen models.

"Really, this scumbag. If you hadn't tricked me, I wouldn't be selling goods here. Now you're sending me Love Cruise Ships to gross me out? If you have the guts, transfer me 500 million, no repayment needed."

After cursing, she noticed the viewer count had skyrocketed to 80 million. Was that number even right? Yan Qingqiu was shocked.

Worse, everyone was saying she didn't dare, even claiming they'd seen through her scheme.

Yan Qingqiu first told the models to stand up.

Eighteen models standing together was quite crowded; the camera might not capture all of them. A few formed a U-shape around her chair.

Yan Qingqiu rested her arm on the armrest, thinking through her strategy.

She hadn't dressed the models in shorts and tees like herself. The models wore outfits designed by Su Xingjie—various styles, but all sexy.

She was bold, buying for herself and advertising for her friends at the same time.

"Any betas among you? If so, step forward. Two, or three, is fine."

The atmosphere was tense. Everyone was unsure what she meant, too shy to move. But then a mixed-race Black model stepped out. She wore a dark red tank top and black hot pants, with a leather strap cinched around her thigh. She walked up to Yan Qingqiu, exuding sexy, sultry energy.

"I am."

Another model with golden-brown hair followed. Both were tall, mixed-race beauties.

"Okay! You two. Come on, show me something."

Yan Qingqiu pointed to the mat in the center and said, "Your names are Miaomiao and Mo Andi, right?"

"You two suit our products well. And you're beautiful."

Yan Qingqiu was gracious, complimenting the models. When they lay down, the new viewers were baffled: So, is this about gossip, selling essential oil, or selling spicy models?

Yan Qingqiu rubbed her fingers. "Watch closely now."

She knelt on the ground, rolling her neck to loosen up.

Then, bracing her hands on the dark-skinned hot model, she did a push-up on her. Her golden hair cascaded down, brushing the model's shoulder. Then she lifted her arms and slowly moved to the next model, a pale-skinned one.

It was easy for her. Her waist and back stayed straight and strong, her movements fluid, her buttocks tight. The models beneath her were embarrassed, feeling like she smelled of pheromones, their cheeks flushing.

The camera shifted.

Another push-up.

Only her hair strands touched the model.

Everyone watched in awe. She was really doing it.

Yan Qingqiu stood up, asked the assistant for a hair tie, gathered her hair, and tied it up. Then she reached out to the models, pulling them up one by one. She looked incredibly cool. People started searching for her secondary gender, but all eyes landed on the "unmarried" column.

"See? No tricks. You order, I deliver. A roll is a roll. All eighteen models are right here. It's just a matter of who's fastest," Yan Qingqiu said, rubbing her face. "So hydrating. Look at my face—it's all dewy." She pulled two models over, who blushed at her. "See? Their skin is all moist. Mmm, smells amazing."

The barrage was fired up: 【Want it! Buy!】

The staff could only click their tongues.

Yan Fu had mixed feelings. He didn't know whether to stop her. Was his daughter too mature for her age? No, she was 24. He told his secretary, "Go bring Miss some water. Tell her not to push herself too hard. What if she sells out? Then she'd really have to roll over them."

His main concern was that she was going through Secondary Differentiation. What if rolling caused problems? Now he was worried about what to do if she sold out. It was urgent.

"Don't worry... Miss added the entire warehouse stock to the links. She won't sell out. Even if she does roll, she'd have to clear out all our goods."

Yan Fu hummed in acknowledgment. Then the assistant's voice came through: "Link #4, the 799 set, is sold out too. Some refunds on the 999 set—about a hundred left if anyone wants to grab them."

Yan Fu sighed. "Qiuqiu is suffering."

The staff went to deliver water. Somehow, an error occurred, and it ended up with a model holding the water, then handing it to Yan Qingqiu to drink. She accidentally spilled it on her chest, leaving it wet.

The barrage flew by rapidly, scrolling across the screen.

Yan Qingqiu continued, "Life is about pushing your limits. Honestly, I want to challenge my weakness too—sleeping on the... nudes of eighteen models."

"If we sell a lot this time, I'll have my dad build me a big bath, and they can carry me to bathe. Hehe. That's also my weakness."

Yan Fu: "..."

"Ever since my daughter broke up, she's been a bit livelier."

The other executives understood: she'd been repressed for too long, and now her true nature was showing.

Yan Qingqiu had many tricks up her sleeve. With that mouth of hers, she could turn the dry into the moist.

"I've received many refunds in the backend. I'm not going to lie—you people are something else. I was about to perform for you, but you keep buying and refunding. If it weren't for you, I'd have rolled over four or five times by now and would be lying on their laps streaming."

At that moment, a message floated by: 【You're really bold. Aren't you afraid when you go home tonight?】

This time, Yan Qingqiu saw it.

Because that person had become her top fan, with the name: Song, send me some affection.

Damn.

"Let's take a break. My dad's calling me. I'll be back later." So scared. Terrifying.

Yan Qingqiu glared at the camera. Everyone could see it clearly now—no tricks, all emotion. Yan Qingqiu genuinely wanted to roll over the models. She just needed an excuse, a push to be brave.

Yan Qingqiu shook her head and sighed, "Useless."

She was, of course, referring to the consumers watching.

Yan Qingqiu left the livestream, letting others continue showcasing products. With that bit of disdain, another link sold out in seconds.

Yan Qingqiu felt she'd only used a fraction of her talent, yet two hours had passed—from 8 PM to 10 PM.

"Dad... how did sales go?" Yan Qingqiu had a rough idea, but she couldn't help wanting a little praise.

As they left the livestream room, Yan Fu couldn't contain his joy. He said, "Great! Better than the big shopping festival. Customer service says we sold fifty products in two hours."

Including the 1888 Golden-Haired Princess set.

Yan Fu added, "But that thing about rolling over the models—was that a marketing strategy? They never reported that to me."

Yan Qingqiu pursed her lips. "I thought of it myself."

"Well, you can't actually roll over them."

Yan Qingqiu frowned. "That won't do, Dad. In business, you have to be honest. If they can clear out all our products and not refund, I'll roll! Honesty is key!"

Yan Fu was speechless.

"Then... I could quietly take down some items and say—"

"Dad, go handle your stuff. I'll keep streaming. I'll call you if anything comes up. I know what I'm doing."

Yan Fu did need a meeting. With so much sold, they had to strategize—how many orders to ship, how to manage inventory, what to do about potential refunds. All kinds of chaos would arise.

He was about to say more to Yan Qingqiu, but she ran off to stream again.

Beside her, a model held juice to Yan Qingqiu's lips as she drank, while another used a small fan to cool her.

Yan Fu went to his meeting. Even if not everything sold, a 70% payment rate would be enough to turn things around. The only regret was that the Golden-Haired Princess set at 1888 sold out in seconds, but they'd only prepared 100 million units. They should have stocked more.

What a loss. Such great sales.

It had to be said.

Yan Qingqiu really knew how to sell...

The perks were good too. The box was decorated with oil paintings by Song Qingre, eighteen series in all. The first five had her handwritten signature, the next 5,000 had printed signatures. Free gifts included cards, gold-thread pendants, and lucky draws for metal puzzles.

All things girls loved. Yan Qingqiu had consumers wrapped around her finger. Their products were good quality, and apart from the stuff she'd improvised, prices were truly reasonable.

Their previous highest sales had been 1,000 units; now it was 300,000.

The secretary leaned in to tell Yan Fu, "The livestream is asking whether to put the essential oil up. People want the same kind used on the models."

The oil had sold poorly before, and stock was low.

"Put it up!" Yan Fu nodded.

Not long after, the secretary reported again, "Miss found six models and did a one-finger plank, moving past each of them. It sold out instantly. She's asking if we have more."

"No more. Not a drop left."

Not all 300 links' worth of goods sold out, but the crowd's purchasing power was formidable—they cleared 200 links in three hours.

At 11:30, Yan Qingqiu was about to go offline. Before leaving, she expressed disdain for the netizens and lamented not having challenged her weakness.

The netizens who'd spent money to challenge her weakness: Qiuqiu, come back tomorrow!

It was too late. Yan Qingqiu felt a bit apologetic. She looked at the models behind her and asked, "Who hasn't been push-up-ed on yet?"

Eight raised their hands.

Yan Qingqiu nodded. "Tomorrow, if any of you don't want to come, tell your Director Su, and I'll have her replace you. Thanks for your hard work."

She actually hoped for new models. More exciting.

After the stream ended, Yan Qingqiu didn't let them all leave. It was getting late, but she could at least treat them to a meal.

Miaomiao said, "Our Boss Su came earlier. She's been waiting for you."

Yan Qingqiu looked toward the door. She rubbed her nose and waved at Su Xingjie. "Hey, Xingxing. Sorry about what I did to your models."

Su Xingjie had her hands in her pockets, staring at her.

Then Su Xingjie reached out and pinched Yan Qingqiu's cheek, almost deforming her face. Yan Qingqiu stared back blankly, not even crying out. "What's wrong?"

Su Xingjie withdrew her hand, bent down to meet her eyes, and asked seriously, "Qiubao, you're not really going to roll over eighteen models, are you?"

Yan Qingqiu assumed she was worried about the models, and she hadn't explained things clearly beforehand. So she said directly, "Don't worry, I know what I'm doing. Hahaha." She lowered her voice and whispered, "I put all my dad's stock on the links. They can't possibly clear it out. Plus, people are refunding all the time. They'd have to be crazy to clear it."

But that wasn't what Su Xingjie wanted to ask. She just found it strange that Yan Qingqiu could come up with such a move. It didn't seem like her style!

"What if they do?" Su Xingjie asked.

Yan Qingqiu knew the netizens well. She genuinely believed they couldn't clear it. She'd put up 300 links. After the Golden Princess and essential oil sold out, there were still refunds. With so many products, how could they possibly clear out?

Su Xingjie also knew netizens. Only 300 links—they hadn't cleared today only because there was no pre-sale. If Yan Qingqiu had announced she'd PK eighteen models, they'd have bought out the entire company today!

Netizens had been drawn in late by the clickbait. These days, who wanted to hear love stories? They all wanted something spicier!

"Then I'll roll. Not just once—ten times! I'll earn hundreds of millions in one night. Why be coy about it!" Yan Qingqiu felt these executives had smaller vision than she did. If there was money to be made and the family wouldn't go bankrupt, what was there to hesitate about? It was just a roll over some models.

After tidying up, Yan Qingqiu slung her beaded bag over her shoulder and left the lounge. As she exited, she remembered to call her father.

"Dad, I'm going out to eat with Xingxing. She and her eighteen models worked hard today, so I'm treating."

Yan Fu was still in a meeting. The executives had planned a celebration dinner and wanted him to invite Yan Qingqiu along. But Yan Fu didn't want his precious daughter in a den of indulgence. So this was perfect to send her off. "Go ahead. Send me the bill and I'll reimburse you. After dinner, call Dong Shu to pick you up."

"Got it. Don't work too hard."

After hanging up, Yan Fu placed his phone on the table and let out a sigh of relief. His whole body felt lighter, as if he could stand tall again. The daughter who, though not exactly obedient as a child, was lively and cared about her father, had finally returned.

Thinking about it, he wasn't at ease. He called security to protect his daughter. What if Fu Ye came to harass her?

Yan Qingqiu chatted with Su Xingjie as they headed downstairs. At the ground floor, Su Xingjie went to get the car while Yan Qingqiu waited by the entrance. Today's performance had certainly earned her a reputation out there.

At the entrance, she saw a familiar car.

The model wasn't flashy—dark and steady. The front featured two overlapping M logos. She stared for a second, and the headlights flickered in sync with her gaze.

Clearly a signal that someone was inside. It was hard for Yan Qingqiu to pretend she hadn't seen it. Su Xingjie called out, "Come on, I've already booked a table!"

Yan Qingqiu took a step forward, and the car horn blared. She moved ahead, and the car inched forward. A moment later, the door opened, and the person inside turned to look at her. They stared at each other in silence.

"What, Miss Yan is being quite aloof today?" the person inside said, looking out. Before Miss Yan could respond, she added softly, "Your host has come to pick you up, and you still won't come home?"

Oh no. Yan Qingqiu felt her legs go weak. All the words she'd prepared vanished.

Say no more. I'm coming, I'm coming, right now.

Yan Qingqiu bent to get into the passenger seat, then poked her head out and closed the door. She moved to the back seat instead. Better not to provoke Miss Song. If she got too angry... during rush hour, it could be dangerous if she drove recklessly.

Su Xingjie, seeing she hadn't come, spotted Song Qingre's car and knocked on the window. "Huh, Qiubao, aren't you coming?"

The window rolled down slowly, revealing Song Qingre's profile. She said to Su Xingjie, "You drive ahead, my car will follow."

Su Xingjie looked at Yan Qingqiu, who nodded subtly.

Yan Qingqiu placed her hands on her knees. She was sitting directly behind Song Qingre, so Song Qingre couldn't see her at all, but she could see Song Qingre's shoulder.

She regretted not sitting in the passenger seat. Then she could have seen Song Qingre's expression and known how to react.

The neon lights outside shone in. Yan Qingqiu looked ahead, then back, then pulled out her phone. One glance, and she turned it off. These media outlets and business rivals wrote such disgusting articles just to bring her down. Nonsense!

What did they mean by "Yan Qingqiu battles eighteen wild models in a sweat"? Or "Yan Qingqiu gasps for breath doing planks on eighteen young models"?

Had Song Qingre seen it?

—Wait, so what if she had? There was nothing between her and Song Qingre. At most, Song Qingre was her creditor now.

—But she wasn't an ordinary creditor.

Yan Qingqiu's mind was in chaos. She pressed the power button on her phone. Fine, I'm not turning it on.

The car drove smoothly. Yan Qingqiu had expected Song Qingre to make an excuse and turn back toward the villa, but she actually drove her to the restaurant.

Song Qingre parked and got out. She politely asked the person in the back, "Do I get a chance to join you all for a meal?"

Yan Qingqiu nodded. "Sure. After all, you're—" She closed the door and sensed someone approach. "—the sponsor."

Song Qingre nodded. "You're right. I just sponsored a bit too much."

The implication was clear. Yan Qingqiu felt like she'd bitten her tongue.

One billion. Today, Song Qingre was the honored guest who should eat to her heart's content. A sponsor who expected nothing in return.

Yan Qingqiu put her phone in her pocket. Since she was treating, if Song Qingre had actually turned the car around, she'd have been mortified.

Luckily, Song Qingre was considerate.

As they entered the restaurant, Su Xingjie tried to stand beside Yan Qingqiu, but the atmosphere was strange. She felt that Yan Qingqiu was especially attuned to Song Qingre's mood.

At the table, everyone sat around a circular table. Yan Qingqiu was a bit embarrassed; she wasn't used to fancy restaurants and worried they wouldn't like her choice.

The models chatted amongst themselves, getting along well, but the other three stayed silent, lost in thought.

During the meal, Yan Qingqiu overheard a phone call—more precisely, Su Xingjie's call. It seemed a business partner had seen the news and called to ask if Su Xingjie had really lent eighteen models to Yan Qingqiu.

After a while, she heard a familiar voice on the other end, speaking angrily. "That golden-haired bitch is at it again. I've lost another 500,000 because of her."

Yan Qingqiu frowned, leaning toward Su Xingjie. "That voice sounds familiar."

"It's Luo Xi, the one who fought us over the painting last time. Fu Ye's childhood friend," Su Xingjie said. "Hold on, I'll curse her out."

"No need," Yan Qingqiu said, shaking her head. "We can't argue with a customer. Think about it, sis: my total product price hasn't even reached 10,000, but she's spent hundreds of thousands. She's my top fan. We can't afford to offend her. We need to think bigger."

Yan Qingqiu spread her index finger and thumb as wide as possible, grinning happily. "Let her curse. Calling me a golden-haired bitch is nothing."

Su Xingjie was surprised. Before, if Luo Xi cursed her, Yan Qingqiu would charge in ready to smash her head with a brick. Now she was being so magnanimous, even willing to back down for money.

No, that wasn't the right way to put it.

She was earning money standing up, making Luo Xi howl in frustration.

Su Xingjie hung up, baffled. "Wait, is Luo Xi crazy? Why is she spending money in your livestream?"

Yan Qingqiu didn't dare say it with Song Qingre sitting right there.

She figured Luo Xi also wanted to see her roll over eighteen models.

But Luo Xi's appearance was a turning point. Yan Qingqiu said, "It's because of that time I helped Song Qingre sell paintings. It pissed her off. We've been at odds since. She probably wants to get back at me, but she's too angry to think straight. Hahaha."

Yan Qingqiu stuffed food into her mouth. She noticed Song Qingre wasn't eating much, just cutting her meat with a knife and fork.

Yan Qingqiu's heart raced. Song Qingre caught her gaze, put a piece in her mouth, chewed slowly, and then said, "Thank you."

For what?

Yan Qingqiu couldn't figure it out. After the meal, she put the bill on her father's account and rode back with Song Qingre. This time, she sat in the passenger seat, glancing at Song Qingre repeatedly.

Song Qingre gripped the wheel and asked, "Livestreaming again tomorrow?"

"Yes. Not sold out yet. Tomorrow will probably peak."

Song Qingre hummed in acknowledgment and didn't press further. The car stopped at the gate, and the sensor lights came on, but there was no one in the yard.

Yan Qingqiu thought: Is she going to surprise me with something?

As she entered the house, she looked around. Her phone buzzed again—a message from Su Xingjie asking if she'd gotten home and whether she still needed the eighteen models tomorrow.

Yan Qingqiu was reading the message as she walked in. Song Qingre turned on the light, and Yan Qingqiu reached for the light too. They bumped into each other, and the light didn't turn on. Her phone fell to the floor.

Its glow illuminated both their faces.

Yan Qingqiu suddenly didn't dare pick up the phone.

Song Qingre looked up at her. Seeing her not move, she bent down to pick up the phone and wiped the dust off the screen.

Before she could touch anything, a news notification popped up: 【Yan Qingqiu and eighteen oiled models GIF...】

Song Qingre stared at the screen, and Yan Qingqiu stared at the phone. She looked away, wishing the screen would refresh, but the trending topic scrolled up automatically, teetering on the edge.

【Slurp, slurp. Would Yan Qingqiu get a reaction from rolling over eighteen models? Unlike me, I'd be a mess after one.】

Yan Qingqiu: "..."

Hey, netizen, put your pants on. You're tripping me.

And she knew the peaceful night was about to turn stormy.

Song Qingre saw the comment too. She turned on the light, brightening the living room, and their shadows fell on the floor. Song Qingre went to sit on the sofa, and Yan Qingqiu followed silently.

Song Qingre sat down and read the comment aloud: "Rolling over and back, is it chest-to-chest? Can they pause for a minute during the face-off? I feel like a woman's body fits best against another woman's. So exciting."

"...Stop reading." Yan Qingqiu's toes curled into the floor.

"I'm different. I want to roll over Miss Yan."

Song Qingre's voice was warm. She continued reading: "So exciting. I love it. Can Yan's do a lottery? Like, a chance to roll over the models? Oh, I want to roll over eighteen models too."

That "oh" was a bit suggestive. Yan Qingqiu was numb.

"Okay," Yan Qingqiu blurted out. Then she wanted to slap herself. Stupid mouth. Do you not want to live?

Song Qingre put down the phone. This time, she didn't read. She said on her own, "Watching Miss Yan do one-finger push-ups on the models, I wondered how long Miss Yan could support herself on her master."

Hard to answer.

The living room was so big. Yan Qingqiu stood there, the room silent. How had Song Qingre sent everyone away? Normally, the maids and the butler would greet her, take her bag, and compliment her. Now there wasn't a single person. Where was everyone? Someone save her.

Though autumn shouldn't be cold, she felt a chill.

Song Qingre seemed to guess her thoughts. She said, "I told them you were tired today, so they shouldn't disturb you. The little genius who saved the Yan family needs to rest. Tonight, I'll give you a massage, and then you can sleep early."

Yan Qingqiu lifted her head slightly, mostly because of that phrase, "the little genius who saved the Yan family." She grew a bit bolder. "You're not going to scold me?"

"Why would I scold you? You sold so much today; you broke the transaction record."

Yan Qingqiu hadn't known that. She thought she'd only barely passed. Being praised felt kind of nice.

Song Qingre asked back, "Did you think I'd threaten you? Intimidate you?"

Yan Qingqiu's lips parted. Wasn't that the case?

"Is that how I come across to you? That's a little sad," Song Qingre sighed, smiling helplessly. She put down the phone. "I've been nothing but good to you."

Yan Qingqiu thought: if she were the master, the creditor, the sugar mommy, and her little slave challenged eighteen young models, she'd be furious. She'd call the models over or charge into the scene and carry her slave away.

And then... then punish her within an inch of her life.

Of course, that was just a dirty-minded premonition. She wouldn't actually dare.

Yan Qingqiu studied Song Qingre. Song Qingre's expression was calm. She was still holding the phone. After a few seconds, she picked it up and handed it back.

Then Song Qingre asked, "So, Miss Yan, may I lose my temper at you now?"

Yan Qingqiu wasn't stupid.

She knew Song Qingre wasn't as gentle as she seemed.

But how did she manage to blend gentleness and threat so seamlessly?

Yan Qingqiu could have talked back, but that gentleness drowned her. If Song Qingre had scolded her or criticized her, she'd have been able to curse back, maybe even burn the bridge and say, "I'm helping my dad sell goods. What's it to you? I'll pay you back a billion right now!"

Song Qingre rose from the sofa and walked to the second floor. Their footsteps were soft. When she stopped, Yan Qingqiu stopped too.

Yan Qingqiu didn't chicken out. "I'm coming in with you."

"Isn't your father coming home tonight?"

Why ask that suddenly?

As she opened the door, she could smell the faint scent of essential oil.

The company's essential oil stock was all used up. This batch at home was probably the last.

Song Qingre turned on the light. It wasn't very bright. They stood by the bed, talking. Song Qingre told Yan Qingqiu to sit, but Yan Qingqiu chose to stand.

Song Qingre looked at her, held a tissue in her hand. Yan Qingqiu's palm was open, and she didn't know what Song Qingre intended. She extended her fingers.

Song Qingre wiped each of her fingers meticulously, cleaning them thoroughly, then traced the lines on her palm.

Yan Qingqiu understood—it was because those two fingers had touched the ground.

"Would you like me to wipe your whole body?" Song Qingre asked.

Yan Qingqiu's legs nearly gave out. If not for her iron will, she'd have dropped to her knees on the spot. She shook her head, then lowered it. "No need. I didn't touch them. I haven't rolled over the eighteen models yet."

"Then once you do, I'll wipe you clean, inside and out?" Miss Song asked gently, her fingers twirling a lock of golden hair that fell on Yan Qingqiu's chest.

Her hair had touched the models' bodies.

Yan Qingqiu answered, "Okay." As soon as she said it, she felt something was off, but it was too late. Song Qingre said, "You're really planning to roll over eighteen models? Impressive."

Yan Qingqiu wanted to cry. Wasn't this fishing for answers? Clearly a trap!

Song Qingre saw her crestfallen silence and soothed, "It's fine. I'm looking forward to it too."

Yan Qingqiu understood: Song Qingre was looking forward to her rolling over, and also to cleaning her up afterward... how terrifying.

Luckily, she'd set an impossible task for the netizens. She wouldn't die yet. She breathed a silent sigh of relief.

"I'm going to start being angry now," Song Qingre said, holding her fingers.

"Huh?" Yan Qingqiu let out a startled gasp, and then she was pulled into Song Qingre's embrace. She struggled, but Song Qingre didn't rush to restrain her. She stood up first. When Yan Qingqiu tried to rise, Song Qingre grabbed her wrist and flipped her over. Yan Qingqiu lay face down on the bed, her forehead against the sheets. "What are you doing? I'll scream."

"Go ahead. It excites me," Song Qingre said. But Yan Qingqiu could tell she wasn't just excited—she didn't want Yan Qingqiu to see her face.

Was it that scary?

Was there something in her eyes?

Slap—

"Mm..."

Yan Qingqiu lifted her neck. This time, Song Qingre's hand pressed on the back of it. Song Qingre had actually hit her.

This wretch...

"I was a little angry today," Song Qingre said, her voice soft as a knife slicing against Yan Qingqiu's ear.

"Tell me if it hurts..."

"Or you could say, 'I'm sorry, Sister. I shouldn't have talked about rolling over other models.'"

Yan Qingqiu bit her lip, her forehead pressed against the sheets. Her fingers tightened, almost tearing the bedspread. She whispered, "I was disobedient... I deserve it."

She said it obediently, but her grip on the sheet tightened, her back rising slightly, as if to hint that she'd get her revenge later.

Her submission also said: do whatever you want to me. You can hit me hard. But I won't admit defeat...

Song Qingre's grip loosened noticeably. Yan Qingqiu struggled twice but didn't seize the chance to escape. She knew her father would be home tonight, so Song Qingre wouldn't dare go too far.

Yan Qingqiu turned her head, but she couldn't see clearly—golden hair stuck to her cheeks.

Song Qingre thought she was about to curse, since Miss Yan had a tight mouth.

Yan Qingqiu turned, her breath puffing against the hair on her cheeks, chest heaving, breath growing hotter.

Her mouth was indeed closed tight, refusing to admit fault. In fact, she taunted, "If you're angry, you can hit me a couple more times... if you have the guts, beat me until I bloom."