Chapter 35

The more Yan Qingqiu thought about it, the more convinced she became that something was off. Song Qingre could cough up a billion without blinking, so why hadn't she been able to scrape together a mere million back then?

There was only one explanation: she'd been faking it. But why?

Yan Qingqiu couldn't believe she'd been deceived for so long. She stared at Song Qingre, taking in every movement, every detail.

Song Qingre was still driving, but she'd slowed considerably, as if deliberately dragging out the time. She said, "Back then, you were the one who insisted on keeping me."

Yan Qingqiu had no memory of that—but because the car was crawling along, time stretched, and she couldn't help recalling her own foolishness. Right, she'd gone to Song Qingre of her own accord, demanding to keep her, even forcing her to kiss her.

Spotting a parking space up ahead, Yan Qingqiu quickly pointed at it and said seriously, "Stop the car. Answer this first. I feel like you're lying to me."

Besides, she'd been humiliating herself for so long, and Song Qingre had been enjoying it, smiling the whole way. Now all the smile was gone—she had to be hiding something.

Even the usually quiet System had gotten annoyed and popped up to congratulate her.

【Wow, does your head itch? I just felt your brain grow.】

Being mocked by that jerk of a System was the worst humiliation. She couldn't stand it.

Yan Qingqiu said, "Are you tricking me into being your little slave?"

Song Qingre didn't stay silent. She said, "How could that be? I'm not stupid enough to owe you a million and become your mistress."

"But then I owed you a billion, and I became your slave," Yan Qingqiu said. "Your goal was to make me owe you money."

Song Qingre turned the steering wheel, her tone unhurried. "Wait, let me park first. This is a long story."

Yan Qingqiu became more and more certain she was hiding something. It felt like a rare flash of insight—Song Qingre clearly hadn't expected her to catch on so quickly and wasn't prepared. She'd wait to see how Song Qingre explained herself. If she couldn't, then the million she owed was also deliberate.

She tapped her fingers on the armrest, growing impatient.

Song Qingre took her sweet time parking. Unable to bear Yan Qingqiu's stare any longer, she said, "Being my little slave was your own idea. I never held a whip and said, 'Yan Qingqiu, take off your clothes, I'm going to make you unable to stand straight.'"

"..."

Yan Qingqiu couldn't take it anymore. "Can you not make those jokes right now? I'm being very serious. I'm settling accounts with you."

The car finally stopped. Yan Qingqiu's patience was gone, and she directly warned Song Qingre, "Spit it out. I knew you weren't honest. You look all gentle and soft, but you've got a million schemes in that head of yours."

Song Qingre let her babble on. When Yan Qingqiu had finished dressing her down—"You're the type who won't take it when it's offered but sneaks around looking for it yourself"—Song Qingre said, "Then I'll come clean." Her tone turned serious.

Yan Qingqiu watched her warily, waiting to see what she'd say. A million wasn't a small sum, and she didn't want to owe anyone money.

Song Qingre closed her eyes slightly and leaned back. "Actually, this money was left to me by my parents. You know about trusts, right? They set it aside for my wedding."

Song Qingre said, "I can't touch it until I get married."

"It's for your wedding? Isn't that marital property? Your parents can't be that dumb." Yan Qingqiu had heard of trusts—wealthy people set them up for their children when they knew they didn't have long, or feared an accident, giving their kids a cushion ahead of time.

But she'd never heard of preparing marital property. Wasn't that just handing money to a future spouse?

What if they ended up with a scumbag? Didn't her parents think about that?

Song Qingre looked at her, eyes darkening slightly. "It's for the wedding ceremony. Weddings cost money. They wanted me to have a romantic, grand wedding with the person I love."

That sort of made sense.

Song Qingre sighed. "Qiuqiu. I gave you the money meant for my wedding, you know." Her voice was long and low, making Yan Qingqiu's heart jolt.

"Then why did your parents set up a wedding fund? That's weird. Isn't it meant to be spent?" Yan Qingqiu's heart was pounding, and the more flustered she got, the more she picked at holes.

"Because they didn't expect to die so young." Song Qingre said it gently.

Yan Qingqiu froze. That... right, her parents had passed unexpectedly. "But why set this up for you?"

Song Qingre looked at her deeply. Yan Qingqiu couldn't take it and felt there was more, but she didn't dare ask.

"Then why didn't you tell me earlier?" Yan Qingqiu felt a little embarrassed.

"If I'd told you, you would've felt too much pressure. You might have borrowed from someone else, or actually married Fu Ye. Was I supposed to watch you walk into a fire? Besides, I wanted to help Uncle. If I gave him money directly, he probably wouldn't accept it." Song Qingre said.

"But you looked so guilty just now..."

"Caught in a lie, of course. I was afraid you'd be angry and hate me." Song Qingre admitted it readily. "One lie needs a hundred more to cover it. Sometimes lying makes your heart pound."

Yan Qingqiu glanced at her chest, almost pressing her fingers to it.

"You think I wouldn't?" Yan Qingqiu reached out, lifting her hips off the seat, her fingers landing on Song Qingre's chest. She felt the warmth, felt the thumping. It was a little fast, but not unusually so. What was racing was her own heart, like it had thrown a rod and wouldn't stop.

"Artistically speaking, an irregular heartbeat can also be a sign of a crush."

Yan Qingqiu pulled her hand back. "If the heart stops, you're dead."

Hearing that, Yan Qingqiu's temper completely fizzled out. She opened her mouth but didn't know what to say. Song Qingre's fingers tapped on the steering wheel, pressed lightly, and the horn sounded.

"Anything else you want to ask?"

"I'm going to the office." Yan Qingqiu pushed open the car door, got out, and poked her own chest. "I'm going to look into this. If you're lying, Song Qingre, you're on my blacklist from now on."

Song Qingre nodded. "Check away."

Yan Qingqiu turned and ran. Song Qingre didn't come after her. The car stayed parked, unmoving. This was still a ways from ER, so Yan Qingqiu jogged over, glancing back once midway. Song Qingre was watching her through the window.

Yan Qingqiu thought: Why a wedding fund, though?

The System asked: 【Do you believe her?】

Yan Qingqiu didn't answer. She went straight into ER.

In the car, Song Qingre didn't rush to drive off. She leaned back slowly. Another car pulled up beside her.

Her fingers drifted to her chest, touching it lightly. Thump-thump. She rolled up her shirt sleeve, revealing the heart-rate watch on her wrist—a normal reading. She traced her thumb over the screen.

Lying.

You get used to it.

The secret to lying is to perfect the act. Then no matter what you say, even with holes in it, the other person will believe you eighty percent.

Unless there's irrefutable proof.

But someone like her, who'd been cursed at, belittled, and hurt—how could she not know how to lie? When one lie falls apart, another takes its place, like a spider's web. Tear one section, keep weaving. Never stop until you get what you want.

It was low. But it didn't matter.

Someone like her, the moment she lost everything, became despicable and shameless.

The phone on the center console rang. She thought it might be Yan Qingqiu and snatched it up quickly.

It was Ye Sichun. She laughed. "Hey, Boss Song, got something for you. I just ran into Luo Xi."

Mentioning Luo Xi meant it had to do with Fu Ye.

Song Qingre asked patiently, "What happened?"

"Luo Xi was bawling her eyes out... Seems Fu Ye was meeting a woman, and she caught them, but he yelled at her instead. And that woman might be your little princess."

"Qiuqiu? When?" Song Qingre asked.

"Yeah, this morning. I was picking up my car from that accident and spotted them at a coffee shop on West Ring." Ye Sichun laughed. "I'm giving you intel this good—how are you thanking me?"

"It's not Qiuqiu. She was just with me." Song Qingre wiped her thumb across the phone screen.

"No? I saw someone with blond hair too... Guess I mistook her." Ye Sichun sighed. "Oh well, maybe I did. I also heard Luo Xi sobbing about how it's fine for everyone else but not her. Ugh, that woman's got issues."

Song Qingre listened quietly, then said, "Still, thank you. I'll treat you to a meal."

"Works." Ye Sichun said without hesitation, "I'll make it an expensive one."

After hanging up, Song Qingre lifted her chin slightly. In the rearview mirror, her eyes narrowed, her expression one of unreadable menace.

··

At the entrance of ER, Su Xingjie came to pick her up personally.

Su Xingjie looked her up and down, then pointed at the pattern on her chest. "Qiu Bao, why are you wearing Song Qingre's clothes?"

Yan Qingqiu just realized she was still in Song Qingre's suit jacket—no wonder it smelled so nice. She didn't think much of it. "I went for a run this morning, got cold, then grabbed her jacket."

"But you recognized it as hers?"

"She always has a gold maple leaf embroidered on her clothes."

"Oh."

Yan Qingqiu took off the coat and hung it over her arm. She looked at the office Su Xingjie had prepared for her. It was decorated rather cutely—a big heart-shaped sofa that looked incredibly soft. Su Xingjie patted it, gesturing for her to sit.

Su Xingjie picked up a pillow, lay down on it directly, stretched out her limbs, and sighed in comfort.

Su Xingjie said, "If anyone in the company messes with you, tell me. I'll make them pay."

"How could anyone? Don't worry." Yan Qingqiu smiled contentedly.

Su Xingjie was overthinking it. Who would dare bully her best friend on her turf?

Yan Qingqiu thought about this morning's awkwardness, sat up on the sofa, and started typing. She was going to ask Yan Fu about the trust. But recalling today's embarrassment, she kept biting her fingernails. God, how was she supposed to bring this up with her father?

"What's on your mind?" Su Xingjie asked.

"Just something." Yan Qingqiu wondered if Su Xingjie might know.

"What?" Su Xingjie looked at her curiously.

"Nothing much, just..." Yan Qingqiu finally asked it. "Do you know about trusts? I heard Song Qingre mention something about one today."

"Oh, I know about that." Su Xingjie nodded.

"You do?"

Yan Qingqiu was shocked. Su Xingjie, in turn, looked surprised at her. "That's not a secret. Everyone knows. Song Qingre's parents were rich when they were alive. They set up a trust for her wedding. But the downside is, she can only use it when she gets married."

Yan Qingqiu was stunned. So it was real.

"How much, roughly?"

"I heard it's 520 million." Su Xingjie said, "Her parents put it in when she was a teenager. It's probably grown a lot by now."

"!!!"

"That much?"

"Anyway, the circles always said that no matter how much money Song Qingre has now, her wedding will be lavish. And if she wants the money, she just tells the trust managers she's getting married and takes it out. Simple."

"...Impressive."

Wealthy people managed money in ways she couldn't even imagine. Yan Qingqiu felt a little spooked. So it really was a thing.

"Why are you suddenly asking about this?" Su Xingjie said. "I'm not sure if it's true or not, but I do know one thing: after her parents died, she didn't inherit much. She was too young to handle corporate warfare, and the company was stripped clean by its own people. I think the only thing left to her was that villa next to yours."

The female lead's backstory—always tragic.

Thinking about her selling that house, Yan Qingqiu rubbed her face. It made her uncomfortable. Ugh.

And I was so harsh on her today.

"It just came up today. I was curious, so I asked. I think Fu Ye wants to be with her for her money."

"How's that?"

"Think about it. That scumbag can cheat her with some trick, marry her, hold a one-million-dollar wedding, and boom—Song Qingre pulls out 520 million. That's a sure profit."

"Oh, that's true. I hadn't thought of that." Su Xingjie said.

Yan Qingqiu still wanted confirmation. She considered asking her father—he'd definitely know. Should she ask?

What a vicious cycle.

Her dad was probably still thinking, 'my poor daughter, still being a little slave to that woman.' How was she supposed to text her old man?

She thought for a long time, then closed her eyes and sent: 【The money's been repaid. Dad, I'm no longer a little slave. I'm a free woman now.】 After sending it, she immediately looked at her best friend, who was making her a hand-poured coffee.

Yan Fu replied gravely: 【Good. Take care of yourself.】

Yan Qingqiu bit her lip, ignoring her father's concern, and typed: 【Dad, do you know about Song Qingre's wedding trust?】

Yan Fu: 【I do. Why?】

Yan Fu typed for a moment, then switched to voice: "When you were little, you were always saying you'd marry Little Re. Every day you'd say you were going to marry her, and you'd always make her father laugh. So Uncle Song set up a fund for Little Re's wedding. It was meant for when she got married. I'd forgotten all about it."

Yan Qingqiu was stunned.

That was a thing?

Yan Fu didn't suspect her—that was so long ago, it made sense she didn't remember. He said, "Back then, her parents doted on her too. She grew up loved. Once I heard her father say it wasn't exactly a wedding fund. Little Re told them she wanted to open a huge bakery someday, like Kiki's Delivery Service. So her parents opened the trust and said when she grew up and got married, they'd take the money out for her. I asked Song Zhong what a bakery had to do with marriage, and he said it was a secret between him and Little Re. He wouldn't say. After he passed, I never learned what it was."

Yan Qingqiu didn't understand it either. Song Qingre had been so young back then. "So can that money be taken out freely?"

"No, it has to wait until she's married. Her parents died too young. They didn't foresee what would happen." Yan Fu said. "But the terms aren't that rigid. Depends on how the trust was drafted. If she can take it out, she'd probably lose some of it."

"How much?"

"No idea. I never asked for specifics. Her parents had just died then—who'd ask about that? It'd be like preying on an orphan. The fewer people knew, the better."

Yan Qingqiu thought he was right. She nodded. "Yeah, you're right, Dad."

Besides, given how she—the old Yan Qingqiu—had treated Song Qingre like an enemy, it would've been worse if Yan Fu had asked. Yan Fu slowly started to catch on. "Little Re took that money out? Did..."

"No! Ahh, it's just..." Yan Qingqiu was getting dangerously good at lying. She said indignantly, "It's just something I heard. People were gossiping today, and I suspect Fu Ye is chasing Song Qingre for her money. Disgusting!"

"Oh." Yan Fu was suspicious for a moment, then mulled it over and felt his daughter wasn't telling the truth. With sudden realization, he said, "So you two are ending that arrangement... getting ready to get married?"

Once he figured it out, he said without thinking, "I approve."

"No, how is that... Dad, you've got it wrong. I'm hanging up..." Yan Qingqiu scrambled to hang up, realizing they were on voice calls. She was too flustered. Honestly, sometimes people shouldn't be so clever.

Are you insane? Dad, what are you approving?

Yan Qingqiu pinched her own cheeks, which were burning. She'd accidentally spent someone's wedding money. Really, Yan Qingqiu, you're amazing...

Su Xingjie hadn't been eavesdropping. She set the coffee beside her hand. "Did you get the answer?"

Yan Qingqiu took a sip. The temperature was perfect. She took a deep breath, catching the aroma of the coffee. "Got it. The money's real."

Su Xingjie didn't understand why she looked so troubled about it. Did she not want Song Qingre to be rich?

They didn't linger on the topic. Su Xingjie got ready to show her around, and Yan Qingqiu stood, grabbing the gold maple leaf jacket and draping it over her arm.

Su Xingjie had assigned her a teacher, an assistant, and a personal stylist—a whole office of people, roughly ten who'd be dedicated to her. Yan Qingqiu felt it was too many. She said seriously, "I don't need this many people. I think one assistant is enough." She'd come here to work, but now it felt like she'd just moved from one place of luxury to another. It was too much.

She felt genuinely guilty. If this was how it was going to be, she might as well stay home and laze around, so she wasn't disrupting her friend's work.

"Don't give me so many people. It's a lot of pressure." Yan Qingqiu said.

Su Xingjie had wanted to push back, but seeing Yan Qingqiu's discomfort, she nodded. "Fine. We'll keep two assistants."

"And if you want anything—food, things to play with, redecorate the office—just tell me."

"Got it. I won't hold back." Enjoying her friend's good treatment, Yan Qingqiu also wanted to earn money for her friend. She asked, "So when do I start working?"

She wanted to pick up some gigs and pay off that million.

"Once you sign with me, I'll put the word out and companies will start booking you for business appearances. Our models mainly service corporate gigs. It's too early for you to walk the runway. I'll arrange some in-house shoots. No rush, just hang out at the company first."

Yan Qingqiu nodded. The office didn't need any decorating changes; it was fully equipped. She looked around here and there, and an assistant came to say the teacher had arrived. Su Xingjie took her out to meet her.

Su Xingjie also introduced her to the neighboring models—the company's top models. Among them was a gorgeous blond, foreign-born, the company's top model. She was incredibly tall, 180 cm, cleary towering. Her name was Fu Sang—Hibiscus.

The other models greeted her warmly. Only Fu Sang looked at Yan Qingqiu with a strange expression. When Yan Qingqiu entered, Fu Sang sized her up, a faint distaste lingering in her brow.

Yan Qingqiu could understand what the woman meant. She was a connection hire, coming in and taking the top model's resources. Anyone would be unhappy. This person had built her status on her own merit, so her pride was natural.

Su Xingjie, never one for subtlety, stood right by Yan Qingqiu and said directly to all the models, "From today, my best friend, Qiu Bao, will be learning with all of you. You all know my relationship with Qiu Bao, so I'll make this clear: if you exclude her, you exclude me. If she suffers any injustice, it's your fault. I won't listen to excuses. Even if it's fake, you better make her happy." Her tone was stern, fiercely protective of Yan Qingqiu.

Yan Qingqiu tugged at her sleeve. This would make it impossible to work here. "You don't need to say that. I can handle it."

"It's fine. First job, and there's a lot you don't know. You have no idea how severe workplace bullying can be. I was..." Su Xingjie paused. "Forget it. Not worth mentioning."

Yan Qingqiu frowned. "Wait, someone bullied you? They've got a death wish."

"It's all in the past."

Su Xingjie never had told her about this. Back then, Yan Qingqiu was too busy fighting Fu Ye and Song Qingre to deal with her friend's issues. And even if she'd told her, Yan Qingqiu couldn't have helped. "Just listen to me on this. There's no such thing as pure friendship in the workplace."

"Alright, I'll do what you say."

The two were talking when Yan Qingqiu noticed the top model glancing their way. The woman tried to be subtle, but her stare was too direct to ignore.

Yan Qingqiu frowned, deciding not to cause trouble on her first day. She said nothing. But it kept going, and finally she couldn't take it, so she shot a sharp glare back.

Unless that woman was into her best friend.

Su Xingjie turned. "What's wrong, Qiu Bao?"

"Nothing. Just looking at the mirror."

The room was like a dance studio, mirrors everywhere. Everyone could see their own reflection, and the cold light of the other woman's gaze landed squarely on her.

Because Su Xingjie was present, neither side spoke. But from Fu Sang's demeanor, Yan Qingqiu had a feeling they were headed for conflict.

Getting into a fight with the company's top model on her first day was pointless. Yan Qingqiu walked with her to the next room, added the teacher's contact info, and checked the teacher's class schedule.

The teacher had been a top model herself and had an incredible figure. She said, "I'm very strict, you know."

Yan Qingqiu said, "Teacher, don't worry. I can handle hardship."

The teacher smiled warmly and changed Yan Qingqiu's contact name.

Yan Qingqiu didn't stay long, leaving after the conversation.

"Qiu Bao, how is it? Anything uncomfortable?" Su Xingjie asked with concern.

"Of course not." Yan Qingqiu patted her shoulder, and the two walked out arm in arm. Passing by the adjacent office, she snuck another glance at Fu Sang, then said quietly, "Xing Xing, someone at your company has a crush on you."

"Yeah, I know." Su Xingjie said.

Yan Qingqiu was surprised. "You knew?"

"Obviously. Quite a few, actually. I'm not ugly, my work is solid, I've trained so many models and designers. It'd be weird if no one liked me."

Su Xingjie radiated confidence, her eyes bright with that beautiful gleam. Yan Qingqiu felt her friend was right.

Su Xingjie sighed. "Office romance is just the worst, though. My secretary and assistant dated before, and they couldn't separate work from personal feelings. They kept mixing up files and slowing down my money-making. I fired them both and told them to go make googly eyes somewhere else."

Yan Qingqiu thought: So I can't be slacking off at the company either. I still want to sneak peeks at pretty girls.

The two returned to the office. Yan Qingqiu felt a bit bored. She didn't know anyone around here, so she picked up a tablet and searched for information about Fu Sang online.

Turns out this woman was no joke—someone Yan Qingqiu shouldn't mess with. She'd started as a child star, been scouted in her late teens, then signed with Su Xingjie.

Su Xingjie had thrown a lot of resources at her, and the woman seemed grateful.

Su Xingjie said, "She's not under my direct management anymore. I don't have the energy. She's got a lot of business—international shows, perfume ads, that sort of thing. I gave her a separate agent last week."

"Want to be like her? I'll promote you the same way."

Yan Qingqiu shook her head. She ought to stop talking like that in the company. It wasn't appropriate. She said, "Sis, I know you're good to me and worried about people picking on me, but at work, you can't say things like that. People will think you're playing favorites, and your subordinates won't respect you anymore."

Because she was being too obvious, and Yan Qingqiu didn't have the natural talent, she'd never climb that high. Wouldn't that just embarrass her friend?

People's hearts were hard to read. Someone you vibe with today might give you the cold shoulder tomorrow, or even stab you in the back. She'd been through the workplace herself; she wasn't that naive.

Su Xingjie looked at her, somewhat surprised. When did she get so modest? She chalked it up to maturity and didn't pry.

"Fine, I'll do it your way. But don't feel pressured, and don't think you have to earn money for me. I'm loaded."

Yan Qingqiu breathed a sigh of relief, put down the tablet, and said, "By the way, let's invite Song Qingre to dinner tonight."

"The three of us?" Su Xingjie asked, certain her ears were playing tricks on her. She said seriously, "Why her? To have a fistfight at the table?"

Their relationship seemed decent enough now, but not dinner-together worthy.

"I asked her yesterday. She said she doesn't dislike you, and you don't dislike her either." Yan Qingqiu could tell the two didn't get along mostly because of her.

"No more fighting with her. It's pointless. Let's all get along." Yan Qingqiu said.

Su Xingjie thought it over and nodded. True, she didn't actually dislike Song Qingre. Actually, if not for Song Qingre's scheming, constantly stirring the pot, Yan Qingqiu might have married that scumbag. Thinking of her beautiful friend marrying a piece of trash like that—it hurt. She'd spit out three liters of blood.

She couldn't easily refuse Yan Qingqiu, but every time Song Qingre did something, she was relieved that at least that evil woman stood in front of them.

"Thinking about it, I really don't hate her that much. But she might not agree to come." Su Xingjie said.

"With me asking, it's a sure thing." Yan Qingqiu was confident.

Su Xingjie said, a bit nostalgic, "Back then, we used to eat together all the time. Song Qingre would take us on weekends. Now it feels like a dream... it's been so many years."

Yan Qingqiu had planned to call Song Qingre directly and figure out a place.

But Su Xingjie had an important meeting. She said, "You go ahead and ask. If she's in, we'll head over tonight. If not, I'll take you out to eat later."

Yan Qingqiu gave an OK sign. Once Su Xingjie left, she went back to the office. An assistant turned on the TV, showing international supermodel runway videos. Yan Qingqiu sat in the massage chair, playing with her phone, about to make a call, then glancing at the people around her—all unfamiliar faces, a bit awkward to speak in front of.

She sent Song Qingre a voice message, keeping her voice low: "Later, you don't need to explain anything to my dad. I already talked to him."

Song Qingre didn't reply. Yan Qingqiu waited anxiously, but after ten minutes there was still no word. She played a game for a bit, then scrolled through some apps.

Half an hour later, the front desk at the SendAutumn studio received a bouquet of flowers.

Flowers arrived at the front desk daily. Sometimes from business partners, sometimes from admirers of the boss.

All sorts of flowers came in, and not every bouquet was sent to the office. Sometimes the boss's office was too full, and the flowers stayed with the secretaries or the front desk.

The front desk called the secretary's office. "There's no name on it. The card though... it's quite... grand."

"Museum stuff?"

Sheng Huajian said, "Bring it up then."

The front desk glanced at the card, hesitated, thought about reading a line or two, but couldn't quite manage it. She brought the flowers up, and Sheng Huajian looked at the card too. She also fell silent. She told the front desk to put the flowers down and get back to work, then went to knock on Song Qingre's door. "Boss, flowers for you."

"Mm?"

"From Miss Yan."

The door opened, and Sheng Huajian carried the flowers in. The front desk was amazed. No name, but she still knew who sent them? Impressive.

But—was the boss getting married?

Sheng Huajian set the flowers on the table. Song Qingre paused her work and looked at the gradient blue roses, like ice-blue melting into white.

She picked up the card. The shop must have written it for her.

In elegant calligraphy: 【Thank you for taking out your wedding fund for me. I have nothing to repay you with but this bouquet.】 There was no signature.

And the shop had added its own note: 【Wishing you two a hundred years of happiness, united forever!】

Song Qingre held the card, the corner of her lips curling up, a clear smile on her face. She leaned back, stared at the card, and let out a soft laugh. Then she snapped a photo of the shop's note and sent it to Yan Qingqiu.

Yan Qingqiu had been waiting for her message. Seeing the reply, she immediately started typing—but that picture was too much. 【That's not what I wrote!】

Song Qingre: 【Scared me. I thought you were planning something.】

Yan Qingqiu's heart skipped a beat too. 【By the way, listen. Don't go explaining anything to my dad. I already cleared it up.】

Song Qingre: 【So brave. What did you say?】

Yan Qingqiu pretended not to see the last line: 【What else could I do?】

Heh. My dad's probably imagining me going from slave to master, about to marry you, and getting all excited about what to name our kids.

Also, in this world, alphas and omegas could get married and have kids. How did that even work? She didn't understand the genetics here. Whose last name would the kid take?

Yan Qingqiu: 【The shop probably didn't convey what I meant. Actually, I was thanking you for helping me get through this crisis.】

Song Qingre: 【Picture attached. So, did you write this?】

Yan Qingqiu went silent. So the shop did write it for her, and Song Qingre was just teasing her?

That woman was both good and bad.

Song Qingre: 【First time I've seen such a unique thank-you note. A little startled.】

Yan Qingqiu thought it wasn't that bad. At least she hadn't promised to marry her. But she still wanted to ask: 【How much did you lose taking this money out?】

Song Qingre: 【Don't worry. Less than ten million.】

Damn!!!

Yan Qingqiu's heart ached. She pressed her hand to her chest. 【How can it lose money?! That's infuriating!】

Song Qingre: 【I said I was preparing to get married and needed the money upfront. But now I'm putting it back, so they'll know I lied and didn't get married. I have to take a hit. My parents didn't think it through when they set it up. Otherwise, I could've taken it all out when I went abroad.】

Yan Qingqiu: 【So if you got married, you could take it out?】

Song Qingre: 【Right. I only took out part of it.】

Yan Qingqiu: 【You idiot. Then just get fake married and take the money. Why are you so honest?】

Song Qingre: 【It's not that easy. The managers watch closely. If they find out it's a fake marriage, you won't get a single cent.】

Yan Qingqiu: 【Your parents, really. What if you never get married? You could never take it out?】

Song Qingre: 【Maybe my parents never considered I wouldn't marry. And it's not completely locked away. I can take it all out when I turn thirty.】

Her parents had never considered she wouldn't get married.

If Song Qingre's parents were still alive, she wouldn't have had to struggle so hard.

In their memories, Miss Song and Miss Yan must have been very close—close enough that they'd surely marry one day.

And then she thought of Yan Fu's added words: "Because back then you said every day that if Song Qingre presented as an omega, you'd be her alpha, and you'd protect her forever, making her the best omega in the world."

Yan Qingqiu kept typing: 【So in four or five years, you can withdraw everything?】

Song Qingre: 【Mm. I guess they figured if I wasn't married by thirty, something had gone wrong.】

Yan Qingqiu didn't know what to say.

Who could've imagined it?

The parents had taken the childhood promises seriously.

Yan Qingqiu still thought it was a shame: 【Ugh, such a loss. Why didn't you tell me earlier? I'd have come up with a plan.】

Song Qingre sent a voice message, laughing. "What plan? Are you going to find me someone to marry?"

Yan Qingqiu's heart trembled. Marriage wasn't a small thing, but for a billion, a fake marriage was acceptable. Young people shouldn't argue with money.

She herself had no principles!

Still, it wasn't Song Qingre's money she'd used—it was the money she'd borrowed. It hurt. It really hurt.

Song Qingre: 【My parents left me more than one billion. I'll return the first billion first and see how much gets docked. At least some of it will come back to me.】

Yan Qingqiu: 【So you haven't returned the money yet?】

Song Qingre didn't reply.

Yan Qingqiu felt like she'd asked a stupid question. She'd only just paid her back today. If Song Qingre didn't return it, she couldn't get the rest. If she did, she'd lose money. The pain was unbearable.

Song Qingre's message came through.

She said: 【Don't worry. People always pay a price for their lies.】

Those words sat in the chat, and for a moment, it was unclear who they referred to.

Yan Qingqiu ran her finger over the screen: 【I don't know whether to call you honest or stupid.】

It took Song Qingre a few seconds to reply: 【Sigh, Qiuqiu is so smart. Please help me think of a way to get the money back. Thinking about that billion shrinking to a few tens of millions hurts so much I'm bleeding.】

See, she'd acted so nonchalant a second ago, and now the pain was kicking in.

Yan Qingqiu knew that pain too well. She sat up straight and typed letter by letter: 【Call me Sister Qiuqiu.】

Song Qingre replied quickly: 【Sister Qiuqiu.】

Yan Qingqiu: 【Good girl.】

Song Qingre: 【...】 【I look forward to Sister Qiuqiu's plan. When I get the money, I'll split it with you.】

Yan Qingqiu: 【That generous? Giving me half? Broke, you. Idiot.】

Yan Qingqiu thought, the drought sufferers die of drought, the flood victims die of flood. The System kept pushing her to exchange all 365 wives, but she was afraid of being drained dry—the first person killed by her own wives—so she hadn't released them yet. Song Qingre didn't even have one wife. Honestly...

Song Qingre didn't get mad at being called an idiot. If she actually got the money out, it would be marital property. Split it in half, two people, not bad. Better than waiting until thirty.

The chat showed "typing..." for a while, then paused. Who knew what that clever brain was cooking up.

Yan Qingqiu continued typing. She really was stumped—she didn't know how to handle this. She couldn't even figure out a trust. Then a thought struck her. What if she exchanged 365×2 wives and gave one of them to Song Qingre?

Tsk, tsk. I'm so generous. I'm touched by myself.