Chapter 41

It was autumn now, and the weather had turned cold. Outside, light fell on the car roof, but inside, cold air swirled and shadows pooled. Trees swayed beyond the window, and Yan Qingqiu basked in Song Qingre's warmth, eyes closed, breathing in her scent.

So fragrant, clean, and pure.

She couldn't stop sobbing, wanted to clench her fist and pound her own head.

She envied Miss Yan so much—so many people waiting for her to come home. In her original world, no one waited for her... except maybe her landlord. But if she went back, she definitely couldn't afford the rent.

Tears fell without her permission. She grabbed Song Qingre's clothes, and for the first time, she reached out and hugged her.

After a while, her crying stopped, but Song Qingre didn't let go, as if savoring the embrace. The two leaned into each other in the autumn morning, sharing warmth.

Until Yan Qingqiu's phone alarm rang. She pulled out her phone, and Song Qingre released her arms, then took out a tissue to dab at the corners of her eyes.

The touch was gentle, so tender it made Yan Qingqiu lose herself.

Song Qingre lowered her head and said seriously, "If you're sad, cry it out. If someone laughs at you when you're genuinely upset, they're absolutely rotten."

Her fingers pressed against Yan Qingqiu's cheek, massaging the apple of her cheek that had grown sore from crying.

Yan Qingqiu was soothed by her fingers and nodded obediently. "I... hic..." She tried to speak but hiccupped through tears—how embarrassing.

She started thinking about her time at the orphanage again. The words she always heard were: "We are the bravest children, and we must face tomorrow's sun positively."

I'm not brave at all.

"Still want to cry?" Song Qingre asked.

Yan Qingqiu shook her head.

Song Qingre wiped away the tears that rolled down her lashes.

Yan Qingqiu took the tissue herself and wiped her face, feeling absurd for crying so stupidly over such a small thing.

"Let's go."

Song Qingre got out of the back seat and returned to the front. She gripped the steering wheel and drove in. When they reached the villa gates, Yan Qingqiu was still afraid of the "wives" inside. She was a proper modern person, despite the wild thoughts in her head—her nature never dared to go beyond the rules.

Song Qingre got out to open her door, bending down and extending a hand to Yan Qingqiu. Yan Qingqiu looked up at her, feeling the light fall on her in a gentle, dazzling way.

She stepped out of the car and followed Song Qingre's steps. Song Qingre pushed open the villa door and led her inside.

It was empty and silent, quiet as could be.

Yan Qingqiu began to wonder: did Song Qingre remember the 365 wives? Did she remember the peculiar jellyfish headline?

If one day her mission failed and she left this game, and a new strategist came in, would anyone remember her?

"Want some ice cream?" Song Qingre asked, tilting her head.

Yan Qingqiu was flustered, her hand grabbing at her hem. "We'll go out to eat later."

Song Qingre sat by the fountain and patted the spot beside her. Yan Qingqiu went over and sat next to her.

The fountain was beautifully designed—not a single drop landed on her.

Yan Qingqiu took a deep breath. This game worked ruthlessly; it recycled things quickly, deleting any unsuitable settings without leaving a trace.

It had once claimed to have high openness. Look how open it was—not even as high as her height.

Could it be that because Miss Yan, as a supporting character, fell in love with the female lead, the system couldn't stand their love and quietly deleted Miss Yan?

Yan Qingqiu's mood sank again.

She wouldn't let herself think nonsense. She said, "Let's go get ice cream."

Song Qingre nodded, stood up, and headed out. Yan Qingqiu followed behind her, biting her lip hard, then gently stepped forward to grab her clothing hem.

Song Qingre's steps paused. She smiled and continued walking out.

Song Qingre talked to her, "Are you going to the office later?"

Yan Qingqiu stepped on her shadow, saying, "My eyes are all red. I'll go later, after they recover."

A strange feeling surged again. It felt like she had done this before, too. What was it? Could it be that some memory had been deleted again? How could she hold on to her memories?

Yan Qingqiu quickened her pace and accidentally bumped into Song Qingre's lower back.

"Careful," Song Qingre said warmly. She waited for her to catch up and took her wrist gently, and Yan Qingqiu's restless heart finally calmed.

A Lamborghini deliberately drove past them, honking. Luo Xi looked satisfied, snapped a few photos, then pressed the accelerator and sped off.

Luo Xi drove straight to the Fu Corporation. She got out and walked inside, but after a few steps, someone blocked her.

"Move. I need to see my brother." Luo Xi ignored them with a domineering air, then felt a pang of self-pity. Yan Qingqiu and Song Qingre were about to reconcile, but how was her love life going nowhere?

She paid no attention to those people, and they dared not offend her, letting her barge all the way upstairs. Fu Ye sat in his studio, his expression serious as he spoke on the phone: "Mm, have the media outlets prepare. The Fu Corporation won't shortchange them."

"Bro." Luo Xi pushed the door open and sat down on the nearby sofa, hands in her jacket pockets.

Fu Ye glanced at her while still on the phone, and his expression shifted. He hung up and said, "What are you doing here? Didn't I tell you not to come around anymore?"

"I'm here to help you get over those two women, Yan Qingqiu and Song Qingre!" Luo Xi walked over happily and showed Fu Ye the photos, wanting him to sever all feelings. "They were kissing in front of my house today. More precisely, they were intentionally showing off, driving right up to me to kiss."

She swiped through the photos one by one. "Look how affectionate they are, how well-matched. They belong together."

Fu Ye glanced at it, his expression turning terrible. He raised his hand and flung her phone to the ground. Luo Xi shrieked, "What are you doing, bro? I just bought that!"

"Don't bring me this kind of thing anymore." Fu Ye frowned, as if blaming her for Yan Qingqiu and Song Qingre getting together.

Luo Xi wanted to lose her temper, but if her brother could let go of this relationship, she thought she could tolerate it. She asked, "Have you finally come to your senses? You don't like them anymore?"

Fu Ye looked at her and said, "Qiuqiu is being bewitched."

"How is she bewitched? This morning she told me she loves Song Qingre. They did a jellyfish play, plan to have a baby next autumn, and she's already picked the name—Song Lianqiu."

"Shut up!" Fu Ye grabbed the landline to call her parents, then said seriously to Luo Xi, "Qiuqiu is going to marry me, and only me."

"They're already together—they were a couple once! If you go after Yan Qingqiu now, aren't you just a homewrecker?" Luo Xi shouted, rushing to snatch the phone. "Why do you even like Yan Qingqiu? What's so good about her?"

Fu Ye shoved her. Luo Xi nearly fell but managed to steady herself. Her eyes turned red, and she said pitifully, "All you know is Yan Qingqiu and Song Qingre. You have no idea how much I like you."

"That's your problem. If you keep being unreasonable, I'll never like you. Go home now." Fu Ye looked at her, thinking he should make her leave, and softened his tone. "Go back first. Once I finish work, I'll come find you and buy you a new phone. Anything you want, I'll get it." Seeing her not moving, standing there, his anger flared. "Look at yourself—spoiled and willful. Who would ever like you?"

Luo Xi looked at him with red eyes, hearing the dismissal in his tone. She choked back a sob, picked up her phone, turned, and ran out. She felt bitter. Yan Qingqiu was so dramatic, yet when she cried, Song Qingre wiped her tears. But when she cried, no one wiped hers. It hurt...

She sobbed at the door, not going far, hoping Fu Ye would come comfort her. Then she heard him on the phone—not to her parents, but to women whose voices she didn't recognize. Why had Brother Fu become so promiscuous? She could hardly bear it anymore.

Fu Ye asked, "How are things? I've contacted the director at Wilderness. You need to make sure everything is foolproof over there. The Fu Corporation will open the doors for you."

Wasn't Wilderness that perfume company?

Who was he buying perfume for? Yan Qingqiu? Or both of them together?

Shameless.

Luo Xi ran out crying, got into her car, and stomped on the gas pedal recklessly, driving dangerously, stopping and starting, colliding with things. She drove like she had a death wish.

Before long, she heard a car horn behind her. Annoyed, she pulled over and saw Ye Sichun approaching. Ye Sichun walked to her window and bent down. Seeing her, she looked helpless and sighed. "Miss, you scratched my car."

"When did I do that?" Luo Xi sobbed.

"Just now, while you were crying and driving..." Ye Sichun said. "Get out. Driving like that is too dangerous. What if something happens?" It wasn't that she feared for her safety—she was genuinely afraid this lady would hit someone.

Luo Xi looked at her suspiciously. Why did she care? Her nose grew even more sour.

"Are you stalking me? Why are you always there when I'm at my worst?"

Ye Sichun wanted to ask the same thing: why did her car always suffer whenever Luo Xi cried? But she remembered the other was her VIP customer, and offending the young Miss Luo was not wise. She said softly, "Maybe it's fate between us, or maybe seeing someone cry so hard makes one look less pitiful. So, Miss Luo, stop crying? Smile a little?"

And maybe come check out my car, please?

Luo Xi wiped her tears with her hand. "It's just a car. Go get it fixed and send me the bill."

Seeing Ye Sichun hadn't left, she frowned. "What else?"

"How about you get in my car? Where are you headed? I'll drive you," Ye Sichun offered.

"You... I..." Luo Xi grew uneasy. "Why are you driving me?"

"You don't look safe behind the wheel. Scraping the car is minor, but if you hit someone, wouldn't that be worse?" Ye Sichun said.

Luo Xi sat for a moment, tapping the steering wheel with her fingers. Finally, she pulled out the keys, got out, and saw the long gash on Ye Sichun's rear door—the poor car now looked awful. Ye Sichun opened the door.

"The passenger seat?" Luo Xi muttered, bending to sit down.

Ye Sichun smiled. "Where to?"

Luo Xi usually had nothing to do except shop with her girlfriends and pester Fu Ye. She said nothing, so Ye Sichun drove on her own, taking them to an ice cream shop and offering to treat her.

Ye Sichun called a repair shop to tow the car. She secured a booth, sat Luo Xi down, and ordered a combo, thinking she could calm down after eating.

Ye Sichun didn't eat much of it herself, just watched her angrily devour the ice cream. Luo Xi's lips were covered in ice cream; Ye Sichun handed her a tissue. "Slow down."

Luo Xi's looks were undeniable, but her brain seemed a bit lacking.

A textbook lovesick fool.

Ye Sichun asked curiously, "Isn't liking Fu Ye exhausting?"

Luo Xi had just taken a bite of ice cream and felt a bit complicated hearing that. One bite of ice cream and it had come to this—she was being probed so directly, how forward.

Luo Xi mumbled vaguely, "Well, it's like... how should I put it..."

"How about you try letting him go? I can think of a way," Ye Sichun offered warmly.

Luo Xi put down her spoon and wiped her mouth. "What way?"

"I'm pretty close with Song Qingre. Let me call her and ask, you know, ask Yan Qingqiu how she forgot Fu Ye. Learn from her."

"Her way is just to fall for someone else, isn't it?" Luo Xi said, then felt that wasn't quite right—she'd had to roll with eighteen models and do who knows what plays.

"Trying to like someone else shouldn't be too bad, right? If liking someone is too painful, letting go might be for the best," Ye Sichun seriously suggested, sensing Luo Xi's heart wasn't truly malicious.

Luo Xi didn't respond, just kept eating her ice cream. Ye Sichun took out her phone to call Song Qingre, glanced at Luo Xi, then walked a bit farther away and said, "Artist Song, is my little princess with you?"

The voice on the other end was somewhat cold. "Mind your words."

"Just kidding. I have a question. Ask your Qiuqiu sister—how did she forget Fu Ye?"

She heard no reply, and Ye Sichun knew she'd hit a sore spot. "It's for a friend. Help her kick the Fu Ye habit."

A few minutes later, Yan Qingqiu's voice came through. She asked who it was. Song Qingre handed the phone to Yan Qingqiu and said, "It's Ye Sichun. She says a friend of hers has a crush on Fu Ye and wants your advice, asking how you forgot him."

Yan Qingqiu held the phone. Song Qingre sat across from her, smiling, though the smile was flat. She said, "Forgetting a scumbag is easy. Just have someone throw dog crap in his face. After that, every time she sees him, she'll think of that dog crap. See if she still loves him then." Then she added, "That friend of yours isn't Luo Xi, is it? That method won't work on her. I feel like even if you threw dog crap, she'd still love him. She's already loved him till she has no brain cells left."

Ye Sichun quickly covered the receiver so the ice cream eater couldn't hear. "Okay, I'll hang up now. Bye."

Ye Sichun returned to her seat and said, "There's a simple way... delete his WeChat, block his number, talk to new people every day, keep busy, think less."

"Oh." Luo Xi looked at her suspiciously, sizing her up with a strange gaze. "Really?"

Ye Sichun thought, Did she hear that? Please don't start a fight later.

Yan Qingqiu handed the phone back to Song Qingre. Song Qingre took it. She hadn't touched her ice cream, just watched Yan Qingqiu with focused eyes. Yan Qingqiu felt embarrassed under her gaze. "Are my eyes that red? You keep staring and staring."

As she spoke, she picked up another spoon, scooped a bite, and brought it to Song Qingre's lips. Song Qingre didn't move. Yan Qingqiu said, "Open up."

Song Qingre parted her lips and took the spoon; the ice cream melted in her mouth. She looked at Yan Qingqiu, then reached out, her thumb brushing the corner of her lips, wiping away the melted cream.

Yan Qingqiu's heart warmed. "Thanks."

This was too intimate. Her heart pounded wildly.

It felt like dating.

They didn't finish the ice cream. Yan Qingqiu chewed on the spoon for a long time without moving. Song Qingre asked, "Ready to go?"

Song Qingre paid the bill and also packed an ice cream cake. Yan Qingqiu said, "I can't eat all that. It'll melt and be wasted."

"Take it for your colleagues. Don't you want to share with Su Xingjie?" Song Qingre said. "You're late to work today. Share this with them, say you had ice cream with me and wanted them to taste it, so you waited in line to bring them a cake."

"Oh, oh, oh... you're so thoughtful." Yan Qingqiu nodded and reached for it.

Song Qingre carried it for her. As they came out, who did they bump into but Luo Xi. Their eyes met, and the expressions were awkward beyond words.

So they were all at the same ice cream shop, just upstairs and downstairs.

Ye Sichun glanced at Luo Xi, who was stiff-faced, and said, "How about I buy you a cake too?"

Song Qingre simply led Yan Qingqiu down the steps. She placed the cake in the trunk, and Yan Qingqiu opened the car door herself to get in.

Song Qingre drove Yan Qingqiu to ER, asking, "Do you still need me to follow you today?"

"No need," Yan Qingqiu said. She felt bad always taking up her time and keeping her from earning money.

She took out her little notebook and said, "I'll pay you back once I make money."

Song Qingre tapped the steering wheel with her fingers. "If possible, I'd rather you model for me. Whether you pay that money back doesn't matter."

"Settle the debt?" Yan Qingqiu asked.

"Sure. Then you won't owe me anything."

"I'll consider it." Yan Qingqiu hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

The car moved slowly; the autumn wind blew cold. Song Qingre said, "Roll the window up a bit."

Yan Qingqiu rolled it up, and when she turned back, the car seemed to have stopped. They were already there—fast.

There was a warm gaze beside her, as if Song Qingre wanted to say something but held back.

"What's wrong?" Yan Qingqiu asked, waiting for her to finish before getting out.

"It's just... didn't you forget something? Didn't you say you'd find me a wife?" Song Qingre's tone was light, feigning shyness.

"Wife?" Yan Qingqiu said.

"Mm," Song Qingre nodded.

Yan Qingqiu remembered. With everything over the past two days, she'd completely forgotten. How could she remember that? She panicked. "I, well..."

"Everything according to my preferences, and I'd definitely love her to bits," Song Qingre said, pulling a bag from the center console. "This, the check—I haven't returned that one hundred million yet."

Yan Qingqiu was dumbfounded. System, are you crazy? You delete memories, but why not this? Are you out of your mind?

"Where's my wife? That big wife of mine?"

Song Qingre asked, puzzled.

Seeing her so distressed, Song Qingre squinted. "No way, Qiuqiu, are you lying to me? That's not nice. I haven't even returned the money."

Yan Qingqiu bit her lip, heart aching, not daring to say a thing. Where was she supposed to find a wife now? She didn't know many people. The ones she knew were Xingxing, who was firmly against marriage; her dad, who was a butler; and that left her alone.

It seemed she was quite suitable to marry herself.

But marriage... then, then, then...

"...That kind, the kind you said—just registering the certificate. Will I get the money?" Last time she asked, the answer was no.

Song Qingre's expression turned serious. "Qiuqiu, have you really not been taking finding me a wife seriously?"

"No... I've been thinking about it. There was just a little accident, you know."

"What accident?" Song Qingre asked. "Can you share?"

Not really.

Yan Qingqiu gripped the armrest, at a loss. She felt trapped in the car. What to do? Panic.

Song Qingre's fingers brushed her cheek, seeing she was about to cry again, and leaned in. "Qiuqiu, you're lying to me."

Yan Qingqiu blurted, "I'm not."

She then pressed her lips together, frightened.

Song Qingre's fingers rested on her lip's cupid's bow. While Yan Qingqiu was still thinking of excuses, she pressed in and kissed her lips.

The lips tasted sweet from the ice cream. Song Qingre wasted no time, prying open her lips, kissing her urgently as if she were about to climb over and devour her.

Yan Qingqiu struggled for two seconds, then melted into the seat.

Song Qingre breathed heavily, pulling her closer. Yan Qingqiu braced her hands on the seat, matching her lips.

Song Qingre said, "If I marry later, will I not be able to kiss Qiuqiu like this anymore? That'd be a shame."

Yan Qingqiu's tongue was toyed with, circling around; then Song Qingre pulled back slightly and kissed her again. Yan Qingqiu could see her own reflection in Song Qingre's eyes...

Yan Qingqiu didn't close her lips, just let them get wet from the kisses. Song Qingre's hand circled to her nape, soothing the slightly aching gland.

Yan Qingqiu hadn't moved. Song Qingre asked, concerned, "What's wrong? Not feeling well? Don't want to go to the office, or don't want to find me a wife?"

Yan Qingqiu was breaking down. Her legs wouldn't move. Her voice trembling with tears, she said, "I... my legs are weak. I can't get out."

"Alright. Let's sit a while longer." Song Qingre kissed her lips again, kissed the corner of her mouth, nibbled her ear, her breath warming her face. "Qiuqiu, find me a wife soon. I want to mark my wife."

This was so taboo—asking for a wife while kissing her.

Yan Qingqiu kept exhaling, pressing her head back into the seat.

She thought this wasn't right, so she said, "Stop messing with me. I don't have spare clothes at the office. I'll start crying."

Song Qingre hummed, her hand at the back of her head, deepening the kiss, biting her lip. Yan Qingqiu had no choice but to let her. The windows were rolled up, but people might still pass by. She was scared, her hands rising to rest on Song Qingre's shoulders. Song Qingre bit her lips swollen.

When they stopped this time, Song Qingre was breathing heavily. Yan Qingqiu caught the scent of citrus pheromone. Song Qingre didn't let go in a hurry, nuzzling her cheek, savoring, "Mmm, soft and good to kiss."

Hadn't Song Qingre never taken the initiative to kiss her? Even when Yan Qingqiu acted like a little temptress, Song Qingre only watched with a straight gaze, never initiating. So why now so desperately hungry?

Could it be that the system crashed and she dropped the act, ready to have a taste? Starting to plan to—

Yan Qingqiu's mind went blank. When they finally stopped, it took her a long time to remember how she got out of the car. She walked into the light, took two steps, and heard Song Qingre call her. She stopped and turned.

Song Qingre smiled. "Qiuqiu, the cake."

Yan Qingqiu turned back to get the cake. Song Qingre lowered her head, tucking the stray hair behind her ear. "Work hard, but don't push yourself. Once I get the fund money, I'll share half with you."

Yan Qingqiu looked like she was about to cry. She felt just like an emoticon—having lifted a rock to drop on her own foot. Inside she wailed, but she said, "I'm not hurting at all."

"You too... don't work too hard."

Yan Qingqiu finished, looking at her spring-like demeanor, feeling she would add: Thank you, wife.

Song Qingre said, "I should provide for my wife."

"...Mm."

Yan Qingqiu turned with the stuff in hand. As a model, she was—walking with the same arm and leg, embarrassing.

Yan Qingqiu walked stiffly into the ER building, feeling everyone's eyes on her. She thought, Am I really that humiliating? Did everyone notice?

She stepped into the elevator, frozen, and sneaked a glance outside. Song Qingre hadn't left yet, leaning against the car, smiling at her.

The elevator doors closed; she closed her eyes too.

Inside the car, Song Qingre's smile was still warm, but her eyes were dark and sharp. She pressed her lips together, inhaling the omega pheromone in the car.

It was a mature scent, very sweet, very sweet.

Milky sweet. Earlier, when they kissed, she'd thought Qiuqiu's chest had gotten wet.

365 wives.

365...

Her fingers clenched hard, her body leaning back.

Daring, truly daring.

The autumn wind blew, cool.

A wife... she'd never even dared to think of it before. It was Qiuqiu who gave her the idea. Having a wife for 365 days—that'd be wonderful.

So wonderful she wanted to kill whatever made Qiuqiu cry...

Only a moment apart, and she missed Qiuqiu again.

Back at the office, Ji Xiangsi saw Yan Qingqiu staring blankly and held back the work report she wanted to give.

Yan Qingqiu found her desk, sat down, and buried her head in her arms. Dammit, dammit, Yan Qingqiu, you idiot.

Her mind was still on the wife thing. What did Song Qingre mean in the end? Did she still want one or not... If she did, what then?

"Miss Yan?" Ji Xiangsi asked, concerned. "Are you okay? Not feeling well?"

"I'm fine." Yan Qingqiu lay on her arms, breathing, cheeks flushed. She remembered the cake and pointed. "I had some really good ice cream with my wife today and ordered an ice cream cake. Come share it. I'll bring a piece to Director Su."

"Thanks." A few people came over to untie the ribbon and cut the cake. As they sliced, one muttered... wife?

Holy crap, major gossip.

No one dared to ask, but they cut the prettiest slice for Su Xingjie. Yan Qingqiu composed herself, picked up the plate, and headed to Su Xingjie's office, her fingers cold. She knocked and entered. Su Xingjie was talking with Qiang Wei.

Su Xingjie's eyes lit up slightly. "What's the occasion, Qiu Bao?"

"Nothing, just thought it tasted good and bought it." She glanced at Qiang Wei. "Qiang Wei, I'll have Xiangsi bring you a piece."

Qiang Wei was politely reluctant. Su Xingjie said, "Let's eat together. Qiu Bao has good taste."

"Song Qingre recommended it..." Yan Qingqiu added painfully.

Su Xingjie gave an "Oh" and said, "That's... not bad either. Seems she doesn't treat us as outsiders now."

Yes, she really didn't treat me as an outsider—closer to an insider, hugging and kissing me.

"What happened to your mouth?" Su Xingjie asked.

Yan Qingqiu said, "Ice cream made it cold."

She pressed her lips together, feeling them hot and swollen, and the embarrassment returned. She said, "What should I do... Xingxing."

"What do about what?" Su Xingjie had just asked when Yan Qingqiu didn't have time to brew her misery—her phone rang. She glanced at the name and didn't dare answer. It rang for over ten seconds; she stepped away to pick up. Song Qingre's voice came through the speaker, light. "Did I disturb you?"

"No, no... What's up?"

Song Qingre hummed, sounding in a great mood. "It's just... the moment you left..."

Yan Qingqiu's heart tightened. What?

"I missed my wife again." Song Qingre spoke softly, her voice teasing her ear. "Thinking of my wife, another thought came to me. Since I'm getting married, I need to buy my wife a ring. What kind do you think my wife would like? Big pearls, big diamonds, or all of it? Help me decide, or come with me to pick one out?"