Chapter 34

Yan Qingqiu didn't head straight home. Instead, she went out for hotpot with her best friend. She figured it would be a waste to let the coupon she'd bought go unused. Su Xingjie swung the car around and drove them there.

Once they were seated, Yan Qingqiu ordered all the good stuff.

But just as they were about to dig in, Su Xingjie got a message. She checked her phone—it was from Song Qingre. For a moment, she thought Song Qingre had sent it to the wrong person. Yan Qingqiu leaned over to look. Song Qingre had sent a list of foods to avoid for allergic rhinitis.

"Oh, right, you can't eat anything too spicy," Su Xingjie said.

She quickly called the waiter over to swap the boiling pot for a fresh one. Yan Qingqiu was on the verge of tears—she'd thought hanging out with her best friend meant she could sneak a bite of something spicy. "Xing Xing, you're so heartless."

"It's for your own good. Do you want to keep sneezing forever?" Su Xingjie said, sounding concerned. "How about I switch it to tomato broth? It's still red, so at least your eyes and heart won't suffer too much."

"..."

Only you could think of that.

She praised her sincerely: "Girl, you're a real genius."

Su Xingjie chuckled softly. She'd half expected Yan Qingqiu to throw a tantrum. "You're this eager to eat? These past few days, you've been like a starving wolf. Just hold on a little longer—once the rhinitis clears up, you can eat whatever you want."

"Fine, as long as I don't have to eat bland porridge and stuff that looks like baby food... I can accept that." Yan Qingqiu didn't make a fuss. As long as the food tasted good, she didn't care about the broth. "I'm like a newborn baby now, eating baby food every day. It's awful. Every time I eat it, I think, those poor little babies—how do they manage to swallow this stuff? I can't even last a day or two."

Su Xingjie frowned as she listened. "That doesn't sound right. Didn't your dad specially poach that chef? I remember he won a chef award. How did his cooking turn so weird? It's like it's targeted at you."

"Next time, send me a picture. How can it be that bad? If it's that terrible, just fire him. You look like you've lost weight lately."

"Have I?" Yan Qingqiu felt like she'd actually gained a little. She looked down at her waist and pinched it—it did feel bony. Maybe it was because she was still growing taller, which made her look thinner.

Yan Qingqiu blanched some baby bok choy. It tasted sweet, so she cooked a bit more and shared it with Su Xingjie. "I've barely eaten any fish lately."

"...Have you been eating much seafood either?"

Yan Qingqiu nodded. "Can I order a little squid? I really want some. Shrimp would be fine too."

Last time her dad had treated them to a meal, she'd gotten to eat some seafood, but it had been days since she'd had any.

Su Xingjie couldn't resist her wheedling. "Hold on, let me check this list. You can't just eat whatever you want."

She flipped through it seriously. "You can have a little shrimp, but no spicy food. Squid's not great. For now, you can only supplement protein."

"Waiter, one plate of shrimp."

Su Xingjie went back to scanning the list. She couldn't help thinking how similar this meal plan was to her own differentiation diet. It was really strange.

The two of them ate hotpot, and seeing Su Xingjie's puzzled expression, Yan Qingqiu served her some food and urged her to eat.

They didn't finish everything they'd ordered. Yan Qingqiu initially wanted to take the leftovers home, but then remembered she had things to do and carrying them around would be inconvenient. Regretfully, she went to pay.

Su Xingjie drove, ready to take her home. Yan Qingqiu buckled her seatbelt and patted her stomach. "Xing Xing, let's go for a drive."

Su Xingjie lowered the convertible roof.

The evening breeze brushed against their faces. Yan Qingqiu rested her arm on the car door, facing the wind. "Xing Xing, when it comes to feelings, you can't just listen to what others say. Your own feelings matter more."

"...Huh?" Su Xingjie didn't follow.

"You can't suppress your feelings because of something I said. If I said I don't like women, so no one around me can like them either, and demanded you cut off your own emotions—then I wouldn't deserve to be your friend anymore." Yan Qingqiu spoke slowly and deliberately. "I wouldn't deserve it."

They passed by the riverbank, and the car pulled over. The two of them stood at the railing by the river. Su Xingjie leaned against it, watching Yan Qingqiu quietly.

The wind blew the hair across Yan Qingqiu's face. Her eyes, like so many times before, were like stars in the sky. Looking into her eyes, Su Xingjie could see herself reflected there—no matter how hard the road ahead, Yan Qingqiu could always light the way.

She thought: I really depend on Qiu Bao so much.

"In the future, if I ever do anything to hurt you or the people around me, Xing Xing, don't treat me as a friend anymore. It won't be me abandoning you—it'll be because I don't deserve you. Kick me away and stay far, far from me."

Because... maybe this body already has someone else in it.

Yan Qingqiu didn't want her best friend to suffer. She didn't say it out loud, but she knew it in her heart.

A transmigrator could take over this body.

Where did the original Miss Yan go? Did she have a soul? Or was she just a string of data?

Because once the game started, she became an empty shell for all transmigrators to play through the plot—a role anyone could step into?

She hadn't thought much about it when playing games before; she'd assumed everyone was just data, and their words, actions, and feelings were all expressed through calculations.

She propped her chin on her hand. In her original world, she had no friends. College classmates drifted apart after graduation. Occasionally she'd see their updates, and when she tried to message them, she'd find she'd been blocked. In the real world, it was hard to make a friend like Su Xingjie. She really wanted to cherish this friendship.

"There was a period... when everyone was tiptoeing around, living in fear." Su Xingjie had never said these things before. She didn't dare. She was afraid of losing this friend.

How would you describe the old Yan Qingqiu? She charged at everything headfirst, never this thoughtful. If anyone around her didn't go along with her wishes, she'd throw a fit.

Su Xingjie continued, "Especially when you fell for Fu Ye. Every time we tried to talk you out of it, you wouldn't listen. You'd give up everything for love, and anyone who stood in your way was your enemy. One month, you made Uncle so angry he ended up in the hospital three or four times. You really knew how to stir things up..."

She spoke with a melancholy tone, testing the waters as she recounted. She glanced at Yan Qingqiu several times and saw her looking upset—like someone who'd lost their way and now regretted it. Su Xingjie didn't dare go on, afraid of making her sad.

Su Xingjie smiled. "I'm fine. The one who suffered most was Uncle... and Song Qingre."

The wind howled across the river. Looking out, it was pitch black, deep and murky, with only the occasional boat roaring past.

The night wind kept blowing, ruffling both their hair into tangles.

Yan Qingqiu said, "Remember this place."

"Hmm?"

Yan Qingqiu said, "Next time, let's come here for barbecue. This place looks great."

She shouted at the river: "Barbecue!"

After yelling, she egged Su Xingjie on. "You shout too."

Su Xingjie didn't hesitate. She yelled an "Ah!" at the river, and after shouting, she felt happy. "Ahhhh!"

Someone across the river heard and yelled back at them.

Yan Qingqiu pressed her arms on the railing, turning to look at the high-rises on the other side. Su Xingjie smiled at her after yelling. "Qiu Bao, I just love hanging out with you. I feel so happy. I really miss our school days."

Yan Qingqiu tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Su Xingjie did the same.

The two talked by the river for a long time. The wind dried out their faces. Yan Qingqiu pinched her cheek and said, "Once my dad finishes the new product, I'll bring some for you to use."

"Thanks, Qiu Bao. Back in school, you always supplied my skincare. We'd hide behind our books and apply it in front of the mirror, smelling all nice. Sometimes the teacher would catch us and make us call our parents, and you'd bribe the teacher with products, hahaha."

"And then? Did she take the bribe?"

Su Xingjie didn't bother asking why she didn't remember. "The teacher got even angrier. She was angry and taking gifts at the same time. Later, you called Song Qingre over to pose as your parent, and we hid behind her, giggling. We ended up standing in the hallway for a week."

Yan Qingqiu nodded, finding it hilarious.

The two of them stayed out late, and by the time they headed back, it was already dark.

Yan Qingqiu looked at the door—the lights in the living room were mostly off. She keyed in the code herself, not bothering to wake the butler to let her in.

She tiptoed inside and saw someone sitting at the bar. A light was on. Song Qingre sat there, chin propped on her palm, perfectly still. She was waiting for Yan Qingqiu to come home.

Yan Qingqiu slipped in, but Song Qingre hadn't noticed anyone enter. She was scrolling the scroll wheel on her mouse, staring intently at her computer. Yan Qingqiu crept over, planning to scare her.

Song Qingre heard the sound and looked up. "You're back?"

Yan Qingqiu hummed in reply. She glanced at the screen and said, "You're looking for a cleaning company?"

"The maids are slow. That place hasn't been lived in for years, and it's huge. At the current pace, they won't finish until winter."

"Oh... then, what's the rush?" Yan Qingqiu muttered. She found the screen annoying and wanted to just shut the laptop for her. But as she reached out, she forced herself to stop. She braced her hands on the desk. Song Qingre closed the page herself and looked at her. "Why are your eyes red again?"

"Are they?"

Yan Qingqiu blinked and smiled. "Maybe the wind did it. I wasn't crying—it was the wind on the way back. I was yelling like crazy in the convertible. We sounded like ghosts."

"Oh." Song Qingre replied to the butler's message on the computer, saying she was home, then shut the laptop. "Go to sleep. It's late."

Song Qingre returned to her room. Yan Qingqiu showered first, then grabbed a few things from her room and walked to Song Qingre's door. She looked left and right to make sure no one was around, then raised her hand to knock.

Just as she was about to knock, at the other end of the hallway, Yan Fu came down from the third floor. He wanted to talk to Yan Qingqiu about the money. After a month, the company crisis had been resolved, and Yan Qingqiu's one billion could be paid out first. After all, it was a lot of money, and it was borrowed by his daughter—better to return it as soon as possible.

Yan Fu had just reached the stairs to the second floor, one foot in his gray slippers lifted, when he heard his daughter knocking on the door and whispering in a hushed voice.

"Hello, your little slave is here to help you bathe."

"Today I've upgraded my services. Please have your clothes off by the time I push open your door. Otherwise, if I have to help you undress... it'll cost extra!"

Yan Fu: "..."

He was stuck, not knowing whether to go forward or back. As he hesitated, Yan Qingqiu seemed to sense someone was there. He instinctively stepped back—and bumped into the butler, who was on his way to check the courtyard security system.

Their eyes met. Yan Fu quickly signaled with his eyes for the butler to stay still.

The butler's eyes went wide. The atmosphere was tense.

Song Qingre opened the door. She looked at the person outside with some surprise. "Qiuqiu?"

"Hurry up, just tell me—do you want it or not?" Yan Qingqiu stepped inside. The room light was on, and the computer screen glowed on the desk. There was some page up—Yan Qingqiu couldn't tell what she was doing.

"Working again?"

"Mm."

"Is it really that busy?"

Yan Qingqiu squeezed into her room, walked to the bedroom, and sat on the edge of the bed. She tapped her toes on the floor, essential oil bottles resting on her lap. "These are new essential oils from my dad's company. They're selling like hotcakes."

"Then..." Song Qingre glanced at her computer screen. "Give me half an hour to reply to the museum's invitation... is that okay?"

"You got an invitation from the museum too?" Yan Qingqiu was stunned. That was impressive. She wanted to take a look, but the essential oil bottles on her lap made it inconvenient to move.

"The museum recently acquired some oil paintings from a few centuries ago. Paintings from that era used homemade pigments, and many of the colors can't be restored by machines. On top of that, few experts know how to restore such paintings—they're not familiar with the techniques of that period's artists. Painting and appraisal are two different things. If the paintings are to be restored, they need people like us to help."

Yan Qingqiu nodded. "That's amazing. No wonder you stay up so late."

"I feel honored, actually. They happen to be by my favorite artist. They're what inspired me to pursue art." Song Qingre spent some time dealing with emails. Yan Qingqiu sat quietly by the bed, watching her work. She felt like moonlight shining somewhere she could never reach—ethereal and elusive.

She squeezed the essential oil bottle and accidentally tipped one over. She quickly pressed a finger over it so as not to disturb Song Qingre. She thought about what she'd just said and felt incredibly tacky.

Yan Qingqiu felt awkward. She gripped the box and couldn't help whispering to the System: 【God, I think with all that messing around I've done, the male lead and female lead will never get together now.】

The System was silent for a moment before saying, 【Yeah, no chance at all now. What plotline could survive that much chaos?】

Its voice sounded a bit heavy. Yan Qingqiu felt a petty sense of revenge. Serves you right, she thought, after all the times you've pricked me.

The System said, 【But have you considered that maybe there's a scheme at play? What if Song Qingre deliberately let you overhear her conversation so you'd feel guilty toward her? Isn't that a little scary?】

【Scary?】

Yan Qingqiu couldn't see what was scary about it. She looked up to steal a glance. Song Qingre was still staring at the computer screen, typing quickly. Sure, she was a bit afraid of Song Qingre, but Song Qingre couldn't be that clever, could she—to predict she'd come and hit the mark so precisely? She asked, 【Do you have proof?】

The System said, 【No.】

Yan Qingqiu said, 【Then the probability is too low. The one who said we should listen that day was Xing Xing, not me. But you make a point.】

The System said, 【Mm. So what do you think?】

Yan Qingqiu said, 【Unless she was planning to reject that scumbag from the start, and she would've said those things no matter what. Whether I heard or not doesn't matter.】

The System said, 【Right. Your brain's finally working properly for once.】

Yan Qingqiu said with understanding, 【Well, seems Song Qingre really is disappointed with that scumbag. The original 'her' must have misjudged her. It was definitely that scumbag's doing, keeping those two women from reconciling. I definitely won't fall for that scumbag's tricks.】

The System went silent again.

Yan Qingqiu sensed it was grinding its teeth. She was about to call out to the System again when she was interrupted.

"What are you thinking about?" Song Qingre had somehow come back and was standing in front of her, blocking the light.

"Why did you stop?"

Yan Qingqiu looked up at her. "Am I disturbing you?"

"With a beauty like you beside me, why would I want to be an artist?" Song Qingre asked lightly. Yan Qingqiu's heart jolted. Just a moment ago, she'd been thinking what a vulgar thing she was...

"No way! I'm not." Yan Qingqiu said softly.

Song Qingre said, "Do you want to do the massage?" She headed toward the bathroom. Yan Qingqiu said, "You don't have to wear clothes when you come out. I'll massage you... just... today."

She couldn't feel right unless she did something.

Song Qingre went into the bathroom, but when she came out, she was still fully dressed. Only her fingers were dripping, round droplets of water falling from them. She walked to the bedside and said, "Let me help you. Like before..."

"Stop pretending. I know you too well. I saw right through what you did today." Yan Qingqiu said. "You think I don't know your clumsy tricks?"

Song Qingre paused mid-gesture as she twisted her fingers. She bit her lip lightly, lowered her gaze, and looked at Yan Qingqiu with calm eyes. "Oh? Qiuqiu, what is it that you know?"

Yan Qingqiu met her eyes. Both their pupils reflected each other—small round images, bright and clear in the other's gaze.

"You deliberately refused to open the door for me yesterday. Isn't that because you wanted me to take the initiative?"

"Oh, I suppose so." Song Qingre loosened the tension in her wrist. She smiled. "Yes, it is. I didn't expect Qiuqiu to see through me."

"Take it off." Yan Qingqiu lowered her head, looking at the blurry shadows on the floor, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. "I'm being way too forward. Geez."

Hearing no sound, she asked, puzzled, "What are you standing there for?"

"I'm being shy. Caught red-handed by Qiuqiu. I'm thinking about how to trick you next time." Song Qingre said this very directly, without any subtlety. Yan Qingqiu's ears went soft just listening.

"Hmph." Yan Qingqiu kept her head down and urged her, "Hurry up!"

"No need. I'd feel too bad making you massage me now. Let me do it for you." Song Qingre said gently. "Yesterday must have been really uncomfortable."

Yan Qingqiu opened her mouth, about to say no need.

Then she pressed her lips together. "...Do you want to massage me? Do you have some kind of hobby where you like giving people massages?"

Song Qingre nodded. Yan Qingqiu bit her lip, turned around, and lay face down on the bed. She kicked off her shoes, then lifted her nightgown up to her chest. She lay there obediently. Song Qingre brought the essential oils over and, like every previous night, massaged Yan Qingqiu gently and softly.

Yan Qingqiu pressed her forehead against the pillow. "Don't you want to take your clothes off? Are you shy? You've never been bare."

Song Qingre was still wearing her white work shirt and black slim-fit trousers beneath. She didn't respond. She knelt on the bed and massaged her. Yan Qingqiu had never seen her body.

In the game... she was always draped in gauze, and if you looked down, you'd get killed.

"Qiuqiu, talking so much—are you getting all wet again?"

Yan Qingqiu squeezed the fabric hard and fell silent, enjoying the service. Song Qingre's fingers moved over her body, pressing tight then loose, like playing with a faucet—deliberately tightening, then deliberately loosening, until eventually the faucet would slip its threads and gush out, impossible to stop.

"Mm, I'm a faucet."

She heard Song Qingre chuckle. Song Qingre's hands fell on her shoulders and pressed downward. Yan Qingqiu let out a muffled groan—aching and sore, but blissfully so.

"As... ask you something..."

Yan Qingqiu said, barely forming the words.

"Mm."

"Do you hate Xing Xing?" Yan Qingqiu asked this simple question because she thought it was unnecessary to keep bickering—she wanted to ease the tensions among the people around her.

Song Qingre was silent for a long time. Yan Qingqiu turned her head to look. Song Qingre was holding a brown bottle, pouring the clear, almost glowing liquid into her palm. A bit spilled, running over the side of her hand.

"She's your friend, so I don't hate her." Song Qingre said. She leaned down, her body only an inch away from Yan Qingqiu's. Her palm settled on Yan Qingqiu's chest, massaging slowly. Yan Qingqiu braced herself, breathing, her chest rising and falling. Nothing had even been done, yet she felt like she was about to snap in two.

Song Qingre's nose brushed against hers. "If I hated her, Qiuqiu, today your waist would already be broken."

Yan Qingqiu thought: It's about to break right now.

··

At breakfast, Yan Qingqiu came out of her room. As she went downstairs, Yan Fu was sitting at the table sipping morning tea. He looked at her, startled, holding his cup without moving for a long moment.

"Dad, what's wrong?" Yan Qingqiu walked over to him, confused.

"Nothing. Just getting ready to eat. I wanted to talk to you about something."

He glanced up again—he'd forgotten. He'd gotten up early today specifically to see which room Qiuqiu would come out of. Last night, he'd waited a long time, waited and waited, but she never came out. He'd nearly fallen asleep on the stairs.

Yan Fu took a sip of tea. "Qiuqiu, how did you sleep last night?"

"Pretty well."

"Why hasn't Xiao Re woken up yet?" Yan Fu pressed.

"Maybe she's tired." Yan Qingqiu said casually.

"Cough, cough, cough." Yan Fu burned his mouth on the tea and quickly set the cup down. "How could she be tired? Doesn't seem like she's the one doing the hard work..."

Isn't the one suffering the little slave?

"Not sure. Lately I've noticed she stays up late a lot." Yan Qingqiu remembered the moving situation and embellished: "Honestly, she stays up for nights on end, working. Just watching her makes me tired. An artist works harder than someone doing manual labor. It's ridiculous."

"Then what do you do?"

"I'm fine. I'm pretty idle. I don't have to bear any strain. I just watch her work and feel bad."

Yan Fu's feelings were complicated. He'd assumed his daughter had Song Qingre wrapped around her finger, but it turned out she was lying on the bottom, not moving at all. After a moment of thought, he hinted at his daughter, "You shouldn't let her work so hard either."

"Right. But talking to her doesn't help. You should tell her. She doesn't listen to me." Yan Qingqiu hinted back. "If you, as her uncle, said something, it'd probably be more useful than me."

Yan Fu choked. "Qiuqiu, this is hard for me to say, isn't it?"

"Why is it hard? Dad..." Yan Qingqiu looked at him with a suspicious expression, deliberately provoking him. Dad, are you not up to it?

Yan Fu was stumped. How to put it? He suddenly felt a bit guilty toward his daughter. Yan Qingqiu's mother had died shortly after she was born. Back then, she'd grown up in the Song household. They'd taken care of her. He'd done a poor job in her upbringing and had never taught her how to love someone, leaving everything to the schools.

"Are you sure you want me to say it?" Yan Fu asked.

Yan Qingqiu nodded with her eyes closed, but then worried her father might misunderstand. "If you don't want to say it, that's fine. I... I don't really care either way."

Her expression looked anything but indifferent.

Just then, Song Qingre came out. She was neatly groomed as always, hair tied up, neck long and slender, wearing a black inhibitor collar.

Yan Qingqiu made exaggerated faces at her father. Dad, say it now.

"Wait a bit. There are too many people around."

Mainly, saying it in front of so many people would be embarrassing.

Yan Fu felt he needed to save face.

Yan Qingqiu felt a twinge of regret. "Fine."

It wasn't urgent anyway. "Then have a good talk with her later. If she doesn't agree, reason with her, appeal to her emotions. But don't say I told you, or she'll get proud. She's very proud."

"Mm."

They sat down to eat. The family's meals were still very light and mild. Fortunately, the porridge was quite fresh.

"Qiuqiu, this is a check. One billion. Go return it." Yan Fu, as he ate, called the butler over and took the check from his briefcase, handing it to Yan Qingqiu.

Yan Qingqiu reached out to take it. "Can you manage your cash flow?"

Song Qingre also looked over, her gaze darkening for a moment, then said, "Yes, Uncle, you should keep it for now. What if the Fu family comes back for another round?"

Yan Fu thought it over. If he hadn't seen his daughter acting as a slave yesterday, he might have nodded.

But thinking about it, better not. After all, having his daughter work as a slave outside to support the family wasn't great.

"It's fine. Fu Ye won't dare do anything for now. We have sufficient funds, and the new product is out."

Song Qingre gripped her cup. She didn't drink right away, just nodded first and said, "Okay." She'd underestimated Uncle's love for his daughter, hadn't she?

She took a sip of yogurt, her smile barely visible.

Yan Fu continued eating. He didn't see Yan Qingqiu hand the money to Song Qingre, and kept reminding her, "Qiuqiu, you must return that money, you hear?"

"I know." Yan Qingqiu held the check. This was the second time she'd held this much money, but she still hadn't gotten used to it. Her fingers trembled slightly.

With Yan Fu watching, she felt embarrassed. She pretended to be nonchalant and shoved the check into her pocket.

Yan Fu said, "By the way, Qiuqiu, do you have spending money? I'll give you another million."

"I have money." Yan Qingqiu didn't want to waste money. She hadn't even spent this month's million yet. What if she went back to the real world and had developed extravagant habits? It's easy to go from frugal to lavish, but hard to go back.

After the meal, everyone sat without speaking.

Yan Qingqiu blinked, signaling Yan Fu to speak up. Finally, Song Qingre stood, holding her tablet, looking ready to head to work.

Yan Qingqiu quickly glanced at Yan Fu. Song Qingre reached the door, and Yan Qingqiu followed her to the entrance. Song Qingre didn't understand what they were doing. She thought Yan Qingqiu was signaling for help, so she said, "Uncle, it's 8:30 now. Aren't you going to the office today?"

Yan Fu had no choice but to get up from the table. He braced himself and walked over, standing beside Song Qingre. Song Qingre looked at the father-daughter pair curiously, thinking they had something to say. "Uncle, is there anything you need my help with? Feel free to ask."

Yan Qingqiu frantically signaled Yan Fu, wanting to grab Song Qingre and hold her there until her father finished speaking.

Yan Fu knew he couldn't avoid it anymore. He waved his hand, telling the servants to move away, then said seriously, "Xiao Re, this isn't something I should normally bring up, but your mother is gone, and Qiuqiu's mother is gone too."

Yan Qingqiu nodded in agreement. "Yes, my dad's right. You should listen to him. You don't have anyone left at home."

That house was too gloomy. Just looking at it gave her the creeps. But saying that about someone else's house wasn't appropriate, so she held back, not wanting to be rude.

Song Qingre didn't overthink it. She could tell Yan Qingqiu was trying to stop her from going home. "Uncle, go ahead."

Yan Fu lowered his voice. "This is normally something her mother should handle... It's just... you can't be so A sometimes. You need to be more considerate of Qiuqiu's feelings."

"Huh?"

Song Qingre didn't understand.

"I mean, you can't be so individualistic. My dad's too embarrassed to say it directly, so he's being vague." Yan Qingqiu added, "Anyway, you need to listen to him more. He who doesn't heed the elder's words will suffer."

Yan Fu nodded, adjusting his glasses. "Mm, also, occasionally let her do the moving. She's always down there watching you—that must be so cold. Be considerate of her dignity."

Yan Qingqiu was dumbfounded. This wasn't at all what she'd expected. Dad, are you misunderstanding something?

"Then, Uncle will give you two one last piece of advice: it's always the ox that dies from exhaustion, never the field that's ruined from plowing. Young people should take care of their bodies."

Yan Qingqiu was stunned: ??? Dad, what are you saying?

Yan Fu hemmed and hawed for a long time, his face turning red. "Xiao Re, do you understand?"

Song Qingre's ever-calm expression cracked this time. She bit her lip and looked at Yan Qingqiu. "Is this... did you tell your dad... I mean, Uncle, to say this? Ah... oh."

She laughed.

"Misunderstanding, misunderstanding, that's not what I meant. Dad, you got the wrong idea."

"To drain the pond to catch the fish... hmm? What do you mean?" Yan Fu saw Yan Qingqiu stammering, unable to explain, and thought he understood. He covered with a suspiciously guilty tone. "This is my own thought, my advice to you two. Qiuqiu doesn't know anything about it."

"..."

Dad, I'm dead.

Yan Qingqiu couldn't figure out why her father would think of such things. Did he see something yesterday? No! She'd checked—there was no one around!

Oh god, this is deadly.

If he knows, then it's even worse.

My dear old father knows I'm out there being a little slave, and he thinks I'm the one getting whipped. Dad, do you think I'm the kind of slave kneeling on the ground getting lashed...? No! I'm a decent person! It's just a nickname—don't you understand modern people's flirty nicknames?

She was on the verge of tears, her mouth opening and closing weakly.

Song Qingre patted her shoulder. "Don't worry, Uncle. I'll think about it seriously."

"Glad you understand." Yan Fu looked at Yan Qingqiu, saw her shocked expression, and felt he'd misspoken, exposing his daughter's little scheme. "Well, I'm off to the office. You two continue..."

Yan Fu walked away, sighing.

The butler carried his bag. "Sir, what's worrying you? Isn't the money paid back?"

"Ah, I'm worried about her being a little slave every night. I don't know if her body can handle it. They never seem to sleep well... I just hope they don't..." Yan Fu trailed off, unable to finish.

The butler said, "Maybe we just haven't kept up with the times. Young people these days like to play like that."

Yan Fu shook his head. "Don't say that. Nowadays, a lot of perverts like to play this way. I hope those two understand what I mean."

Yan Qingqiu: "..."

Why does the butler know too?

I feel like years from now, there's going to be an unofficial biography about me floating around.

She thought the awkwardness would fade once they left, but the sound of a car starting in the courtyard and the dust kicking up only made things worse.

The atmosphere sank into an even deeper pit of embarrassment.

Yan Qingqiu took a deep breath, pressing her lips tightly together. She was too mortified to speak properly. Song Qingre sighed. "Really, you even told your dad about this. Now I'm embarrassed too."

"I..." Yan Qingqiu ran. She sprinted out of the courtyard, not knowing where she was going, just wandering aimlessly down a road. The farther she ran, the more tired she got. This was no way to live. How was she supposed to hold her head up in the future? She was exhausted, and her legs gave out. She collapsed onto a bench by a flower bed, gasping for air.

"Wah..."

Life as a rich heiress is too hard.

【HAHAHAHA!】

Yan Qingqiu swore, 【Do you have to laugh that loud? Is it really that funny, huh?】

The System said, 【You misunderstand. We're professionally trained. No matter how funny something is, we won't laugh. Unless we can't help it.】

Yan Qingqiu wanted to scream. This is insane. Of all the ways to die, she never expected it to be this.

The System said, 【By the way, do you want to redeem your 365 wives? They're about to expire.】

【Even if I'm dying of embarrassment, I need a moment to breathe! Leave me alone!】

Yan Qingqiu rubbed her face. A car pulled up beside her, and the horn beeped. Song Qingre sat inside, a smile on her lips. "Get in. I'll take you to work. It's not a good look to be late on your first day."

Yan Qingqiu covered her face. "Sorry, I can't show my face anymore."

Song Qingre laughed out loud. She tried to steady herself and comfort the other. "It's okay. As long as you're not embarrassed, the embarrassment belongs to everyone else."

"I don't want to live anymore."

"It's fine. You're still a tough Alpha. I'll clear things up with your dad later." Song Qingre coaxed her.

The autumn leaves rustled in the wind, a few yellow ones drifting down. Song Qingre really wanted to laugh, especially seeing Yan Qingqiu looking half-dead. Yan Qingqiu pressed her hands hard against her face, casting a small shadow on the ground.

"Alright. I really will talk to your dad and set things straight."

"My dad." Yan Qingqiu lifted her head, slowly spreading her fingers to reveal her eyes. Song Qingre nodded at her. "Yes, I'll go talk to Uncle."

Yan Qingqiu felt like crying.

Her eyes were slightly moist. When she looked at Song Qingre, halos of light sparkled in her vision, like a ring of rainbow bubbles blown into the air.

Song Qingre got out of the car and opened the door. "Qiuqiu, where do you want to sit—front or back? If you sit in the back, sit behind my seat, so I can't see your face and you can be as embarrassed as you want."

Yan Qingqiu felt a little better. She'd planned to sit in the back, but she had something to say, so she moved to the passenger seat instead. Song Qingre drove her there.

The autumn morning was a bit chilly. Yan Qingqiu had run out without a jacket. Song Qingre handed her one and made her put it on.

"Thanks." Yan Qingqiu draped the jacket over her head, sitting perfectly still in the passenger seat with the suit jacket on top of her head.

Song Qingre glanced at her and didn't start the car for a long moment. She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel and said seriously, "Put the jacket on properly. What if we get pulled over by a traffic cop?"

Good point.

Yan Qingqiu closed her eyes, then slowly pulled the suit jacket down. "Thanks."

Her head emerged, her face burning.

She looked out the window, remembering the check. She shifted, fished the check out of her pants pocket—it was a bit crumpled—and smoothed the creases with her fingers. "Let me out when we get there."

"Okay."

There was heavy traffic in the morning, so they crawled along.

At one point, Yan Qingqiu rolled down the window to let the wind cool her cheeks.

When they arrived, Yan Qingqiu didn't rush to get out. She handed the smoothed check to Song Qingre. "From now on, I don't owe you any money. Starting now, I'm a free person."

One billion now felt as light as paper.

Song Qingre took it and hummed.

Yan Qingqiu pulled out her little notebook, ready to tear it up.

"Why tear it up? Don't I still owe you money?" Song Qingre asked.

"But it should be all settled..." Yan Qingqiu felt her million and this billion were hardly comparable; even the interest on a billion could cancel out her money.

She looked at the records in front and felt like her vision was going black.

She'd never dared to borrow even a hundred before, yet she'd dared to borrow a billion.

Her land wasn't producing much, but she was already feeling bold.

"You don't have to be so nervous." Song Qingre said. "You signed a contract with Uncle. You should be getting paid soon."

Yan Qingqiu suddenly felt like life was looking up.

She pulled out a calculator and started figuring. The more she calculated, the more something felt off.

Huh?

Before she knew it, Song Qingre had already paid her back 1.2 million. Adding up all the various fees and charges, it was almost past 1.5 million... So Song Qingre had already paid off her debt earlier.

And she still owed Song Qingre 500,000.

Yan Qingqiu looked at Song Qingre. Song Qingre looked back at her. Yan Qingqiu assumed Song Qingre hadn't noticed yet. She leaned back, shuffled twice, exited the calculator, and quickly switched to the messaging app.

She went through her bank messages one by one, calculating. It really was 1.2 million, no, even more. How did I end up owing a million?

What did I even do! I was keeping records!

"Song Qingre, I think..." Yan Qingqiu swallowed.

"Go on." Song Qingre waited for her answer.

Yan Qingqiu turned off her phone screen. "Maybe your studio should change its accountant."

"Did they underpay you?" Song Qingre asked, pulling out her phone. "Don't worry, I'll have them send you more."

"No, it's just... it's that, maybe she can't do math! She overpaid." Yan Qingqiu said quietly, the last few words nearly inaudible.

"Is that so?" Song Qingre frowned. "Let me see."

Yan Qingqiu handed her the phone. After looking at it, Song Qingre said angrily, "Really, I pay them the highest wages in the industry, and she's supposed to be a top graduate."

"Don't be too mad. At least we caught it." Yan Qingqiu said. "I heard accountants... the older the better. Maybe your finance person is too young. It's normal."

Song Qingre directly called Sheng Huajian, who answered quickly. "What's up, boss?"

"Tell the accountant she doesn't need to come to work anymore. She made a mistake in Miss Yan's account and overpaid 500,000. Oh, it's a million. Check the other accounts for any issues."

"Ah... but the accountant isn't—"

Before Sheng Huajian could finish, the call ended. But wasn't it Song Qingre herself who had transferred the money to Miss Yan?

Song Qingre hung up, pressing the phone against her thigh. She let out a breath, looking thoroughly aggravated. Yan Qingqiu clutched her notebook, not knowing how to comfort her—especially since she was the one who'd confessed...

"It's fine, just return the million..."

The problem was, she'd already spent it. These past few days, she'd been partying with her friends and buying luxury goods. Thank goodness she'd had some sense, or she'd have maxed out her credit cards.

I'm so useless.

I can't resist the lure of money.

Yan Qingqiu swallowed and said softly, "...I thought I had a lot of money left, so I bought quite a few luxury items these past two days. Now the money's all gone."

"...Oh."

Song Qingre's knitted brow didn't relax. "It's the accountant's fault, not yours."

"Yes." Yan Qingqiu nodded guiltily.

Song Qingre drove around another loop, circling the ER building. Yan Qingqiu said, "I'll pay back that million once I get my salary."

"No rush. You don't have to pay it back at all."

"How can I not! It's a million!"

As the car drove on, Yan Qingqiu's mind was full of that million. How could it be that Song Qingre was paying her back, and yet she ended up owing a million? Life wasn't worth living.

Then, suddenly, something clicked. "Wait, that's not right. You have a billion. How come you couldn't even come up with a million back then?"

"Hm?"

Song Qingre's fingers made an almost imperceptible brushing motion against the steering wheel. Yan Qingqiu slowly turned her gaze from the window and stared at Song Qingre, confused. "Back then, your secretary said you couldn't pull the funds together, and you paid me back bit by bit. But then you just handed me a billion outright." She narrowed her eyes, brow furrowed. "Where's your money?"