Chapter 45

Song Qingre's face was pale, her gaze dark and fixed on the screen. Even though she'd anticipated this kind of backlash and prepared for it, her heart still raced when she saw the list of accusations, her pulse already over the limit.

A new message came through.

Yan Qingqiu: 【What are you going to write? Just tell me—did you or didn't you?】

Song Qingre: 【He's slandering me. I've never made anyone think badly of you. Qiuqiu is the cutest, sweetest person in the world, so warm-hearted. Yesterday my wrist hurt and you were so worried, you made me that griddled meat. He can accuse me of anything else, but he can't twist my feelings for you. That's an insult to both of us.】

Sheng Huajian was waiting for her to sign the documents. A glance at the heart-rate monitor on her wrist showed it had hit 120—pure fury. She typed: 【Do you really think I'd badmouth you to him? Have I ever spoken ill of anyone? If Qiuqiu misunderstands me like this, I'd be heartbroken. My eyes are stinging right now.】

After typing, she flexed her fingers; the joints popped audibly.

Yan Qingqiu: 【Then don't write. Your wrist really is hurt. I didn't think that way. I just wanted to know about the past, that's all.】

Song Qingre: 【But... you're the one involved. Shouldn't you know best? When you came to ask me, I thought you'd already believed him, that you were still as infatuated with Fu Ye as before. You scared me half to death...】

She really was frightened. Her face was still awful, completely expressionless. If the other party had shown up in person, she might have throttled them without a second thought.

Sheng Huajian had spent a long time with her but had never seen her like this, and she began to doubt this alpha's mental state.

Sheng Huajian was a low-ranking alpha and caught the strong psychic pressure radiating from Song Qingre, which made her quite uncomfortable. She set down what she was holding and said, "Boss, I'll step out for a moment."

The boss didn't hear her, still staring at the computer screen. She leaned back in her chair, took a deep breath, and worked to control her emotions.

Yan Qingqiu: 【I didn't think that. I was just curious about how you were back then. If there's a misunderstanding, we can clear it up now, right?】

Song Qingre: 【So do you think I'd call you mean, or badmouth you?】

Yan Qingqiu thought it unlikely. Song Qingre never spoke ill of Su Xingjie in front of her, even though she and Su Xingjie had cursed Song Qingre out many times. Song Qingre always said Su Xingjie was a good friend and wouldn't do anything to her.

It was actually them who occasionally badmouthed her.

The reason Yan Qingqiu hadn't taken sides outright or fully trusted Song Qingre's words was because the System in her head kept blathering on.

The System warned her: 【You're focusing on the wrong thing. What Fu Ye said is that she sabotaged things, which made him dislike you. The key question is whether she actually did those malicious deeds, not whether she said bad things about you. Sometimes you don't need words to do harm—a subtle expression is enough.】

She had to admit the System had a point. But she hated how the System always tried to steer her. She said: 【Then tell me, whose side should I take, who should I believe?】

If the System answered, she'd know its stance and what it was up to.

The System fell silent, seemingly weighing whether to say it directly.

Yan Qingqiu stared at the screen. Song Qingre hadn't sent anything else, obviously waiting for her reply.

She read the messages back and forth again, and then went back to the document.

She had her own guesses, but she didn't dare follow them further. She was afraid.

What if... she hadn't run into a supporting female character, but some kind of villain?

Yan Qingqiu feared for her life. Well, just in case, a small chance.

As she thought, half an hour slipped by.

She received a document.

From Song Qingre: 【

August, Year X1, summer: Qiuqiu and I made plans to go hiking. Fu Ye suddenly showed up, saying he wanted to go camping with Qiuqiu. Then Qiuqiu's tent inexplicably broke. Fu Ye offered his tent to Qiuqiu, claiming he'd never used it. Qiuqiu actually wanted to share with me, but he kept insisting, and since it was around differentiation season, Qiuqiu had no choice but to sleep in his tent. That night I couldn't sleep at all. Looking back now, the tent must have been deliberately damaged by Fu Ye, because I checked it thoroughly—it couldn't have broken in such a strange way.

November 22, Year X1, light snow: Qiuqiu's birthday. I made her a cake. On the way, a motorcyclist hit me and the cake was smashed to pieces. When I arrived, Fu Ye had already presented a six-layer cake to Qiuqiu. Since her birthday was being celebrated in her classroom, I had to smile and go in. Qiuqiu told me to wait—she'd meet me on the rooftop later, saying she had something to tell me. I waited on the rooftop, but Fu Ye blocked Qiuqiu from leaving. I saw it clearly with my own eyes—Fu Ye was hounding her.

Year X2: Senior year. Qiuqiu started getting headaches, feeling drowsy, and forgetting many things. I took her to the hospital, but they couldn't find anything wrong. The doctor said it was stress from school. I tutored her, but she always said her head hurt and she wanted to sleep. Every time she couldn't hold on, she'd collapse at my desk and doze off. But whenever she woke up, Fu Ye would invite her out. Every time she came back, her headache was gone, but she'd be cold toward me. Am I allowed to suspect Fu Ye was badmouthing me? That he was driving a wedge between us and deceiving Qiuqiu?

Year X2: Qiuqiu's fevers became more frequent. She'd talk deliriously, saying she didn't want to go see Fu Ye, saying every time she opened her eyes she was already with him. She'd say she was so annoyed, so miserable, that she wished I could be with her every day, and she never wanted to see Fu Ye again—she didn't even know him, wasn't close to him at all.

Year X2: Valentine's Day, my birthday. Qiuqiu said she had a gift for me. I waited at the school track, but instead of Qiuqiu, Fu Ye showed up. He handed me a bouquet of roses. I thought they were from Qiuqiu. I turned around and saw her. When I realized what was happening and went after her, Qiuqiu said I was disgusting, playing both sides. Wasn't that Fu Ye's doing, making sure Qiuqiu saw it?

Year X2: Qiuqiu began to thoroughly hate me. She'd constantly misunderstand my relationship with Fu Ye. I tried to explain, but she wouldn't listen. I told Fu Ye to stay away from us. He went to Qiuqiu and said he couldn't just abandon me, that he had feelings for me. After that, Qiuqiu's disgust for me reached its peak.

Year X3, college entrance exam: Qiuqiu had a persistent high fever. I took her to the hospital, but again they found nothing. Yet as soon as Fu Ye showed up, she recovered instantly. She clung to him, and I could see her eyes were glistening. Her eyes were clearly saying "Song Xiaore," but her body seemed controlled, unable to leave Fu Ye. Later, Fu Ye rejected her, but she still chased after him. Was Fu Ye gaslighting Qiuqiu, controlling her mind?

July, Year X3, rainy day: It was late, Uncle wasn't home. Qiuqiu had another high fever. Half-delirious, she climbed over the courtyard wall and fell, landing in a sorry state. She grabbed my hand and said, "Song Xiaore, I'm sorry, don't forget me." She kept talking, but I couldn't make out a single word. I couldn't tell if I'd gone deaf or she'd lost her voice. That day, we both cried. When she woke up again, she went back to pursuing Fu Ye. Fu Ye said he didn't like blonde hair, so Qiuqiu dyed her prized golden locks silver. Then Fu Ye said silver didn't do it for him, so Qiuqiu cut it all off. From then on, Qiuqiu only listened to Fu Ye, rearranging everything at home to suit his tastes.

...

Year X6: Fu Ye was drinking with his buddies. The whole group egged him on to sleep with Qiuqiu, to taste what a blonde bitch and simp had to offer. One of his friends was someone I knew; he called me to tattle, and I went.

Year X7: On Fu Ye's birthday, when I arrived, there were several women and men at his place. One male omega told me they were planning some kind of party there that day. I left one of my shoes behind as a hint to Qiuqiu that other women would be coming. Now Fu Ye is turning it around and accusing me of seducing him.

Year X8: I noticed Qiuqiu, who couldn't swim, seemed to be able to swim. So I jumped in.

Year X9: He had the engagement ring made carelessly by someone, and when he showed it to me, he hinted that he'd just had it made on a whim, that he'd give me a better one later. I thought Qiuqiu deserved the best, so I had one made too. But I never wore it—just let Qiuqiu see it, so she'd know his ring was cheap.

...

This year: He said he wants to marry you, hinting that I should attend his wedding, hoping we could get along. I wouldn't rule out that he wants (two wives). I came back. During this time, I've been flying back often—on my parents' death anniversaries, and when Uncle was hospitalized, I took care of him. Even if I wanted to leave, I could never fully stay away.】

【Many times I've wondered, if I could turn back time, would I do it all over again, and what should I do differently? But thinking about it, if I'd done nothing, you might already be married to him, with several kids. If I hadn't let go, you might be interrogating me like this, wondering if I'm a bad person. If I don't let go, there's still a chance. But if I let go, nothing can be fixed. I firmly believe that when you said "don't forget me," you were crying out for help. You scolded me, humiliated me, and I bore it all. I just had to endure. As long as you were still there.】

【I also have a question for Qiuqiu. If you were in my shoes, what would you do? Would you do what I did, endure, try to make me see clearly and change my mind? Or would you just ignore it all, not care, not ask?】

Yan Qingqiu was stunned. When she'd first transmigrated, she'd also spent every day trying to make the female lead see sense, desperate to keep her from being fooled by that bastard Fu Ye. She'd just been too cowardly, afraid of exposing herself by breaking character, which always caused the plot to derail. Later, Song Qingre got a grip on herself.

She ran her fingers through her hair. So from Song Qingre's perspective, had she never actually loved Fu Ye at all? It was Fu Ye who had been pestering her all along.

Yan Qingqiu read through it several more times.

Damn. Song Qingre's version made her sound so pitiful.

She had genuinely been waiting for Miss Yan... If Miss Yan had known, she would have been so upset, so heartbroken for her.

Maybe it was alpha competitive spirit: Fu Ye had written 287 entries, so Song Qingre had to write a full 288, just one more than him.

Yan Qingqiu sighed heavily. She read it back and forth, unsure how to reply. She typed, deleted, retyped, edited—going back and forth many times.

In the end, Song Qingre was the one to message first.

Song Qingre: 【Back then you were young and didn't know better. Now that you're grown up, you can tell who's good and who's bad, right? You know I've never hurt you.】

Yan Qingqiu looked at the message. She didn't know either. The System had never given her memories—it made her gather plot points on her own. She was still pondering when Su Xingjie, standing behind her, spoke up, startling her so badly she nearly jumped out of her seat.

Su Xingjie patted her shoulder, glancing at her phone. "Can't say who's good or bad, but it's true she's never hurt you."

Realizing she'd put it too absolutely, she amended seriously: "Of course, if emotional wounds count as wounds, then she's guilty as sin."

"..."

Past heartbreaks didn't count. If today's counted a little, it might be... maybe a level-three wound. Just a twinge of pain now and then.

Su Xingjie asked curiously, "What are you two up to? What happened yesterday to make them hold an essay contest?" She'd guessed Yan Qingqiu had gone to the opera with Song Qingre, but didn't understand how that turned into a compare-and-contrast assignment.

Yan Qingqiu wasn't sure either. She asked, "Tell me, whose version is more credible?"

Since Su Xingjie had already seen it, and she wasn't an outsider, Yan Qingqiu went ahead and sent both versions to her.

Su Xingjie put on her glasses and flicked her thumb up and down the screen. She couldn't discern much either, so she started correcting typos in both. Song Qingre's had fewer typos; Fu Ye's was riddled with them, almost one every sentence.

"I think... well... maybe don't believe either. Trust yourself."

"That was profound. But you're not wrong."

Yan Qingqiu was still mulling it over. Su Xingjie stepped back to her office. Yan Qingqiu grabbed her, genuinely at a loss. Su Xingjie told her to wait a bit, that she'd come back and keep reading with her.

Yan Qingqiu had no choice but to agree. She set the computer down and continued reading both versions on her own.

Staring at the screen, she was at a complete loss.

Song Qingre, ever proactive, sent another message: 【Do you have my wife's phone number?】

Yan Qingqiu snapped back to attention. She switched to the computer and typed slowly with two fingers: 【Yes, I do. Why?】

Song Qingre: 【I want to talk to my wife.】

Song Qingre sent a voice message: "Honey, I'm so sad. Someone's bullying me. Can you come protect me? I don't know where to vent all this misery. I wish you could hold me and console me. If only you were here, I could lean on your shoulder. I miss you so much. I need you. I miss you."

Her voice was low, laden with sorrow, like a gentle drizzle under a clear sky, and Song Qingre was a stray kitten searching for shelter.

A short 3-second voice message followed.

Song Qingre: "Oh, by the way, the person bullying me is Fu Ye."

Yan Qingqiu's heart softened. She bit her tongue, unsure how to respond...

Song Qingre: 【Please tell my wife that. Play her the voice message. And if she's willing, could my wife send me a voice message? I'd love to hear her voice. If she'd speak, I'd set it as my goodnight alarm and listen to it every night before bed.】

Yan Qingqiu stared at the keyboard, then finally typed a single line: 【I'm lost. My heart's all soft.】

On the other end, Song Qingre kept waiting, occasionally showing a typing indicator before stopping again, like a well-behaved spouse waiting for her wife's reply.

Yan Qingqiu felt the weight of her sins.

She typed: 【Your wife says she heard you.】

Sending something so cold would upset Song Qingre, wouldn't it?

She added: 【Your wife also said Fu Ye is a real piece of trash.】

【Oh, and: your wife says to rub your wrist, stop typing.】

Song Qingre sent another voice message: "Thank you, honey. I feel much better. I just had a moment of losing control, becoming someone I'm not, so weak. Do you think less of me, thinking I'm not alpha enough? My heart ached so badly when I was being framed, but I held it together. No one saw my weakness."

Yan Qingqiu: 【My wife is the bravest. Why would I like you less for not being alpha enough? You're the most A woman I know. You don't have to hide anything in front of me.】

Song Qingre: "Thank you, honey. Being with you makes me so happy. All these years Fu Ye has been pestering me. I never actually liked him. There's someone I've always loved, but she keeps hurting me. I'd cry in secret, too afraid to even shed a tear. I'm so glad I found you. Thank you, honey. I like you so much."

Yan Qingqiu: 【From now on, you can cry all you want in front of me. No need to hide. Your wife dotes on you.】

Song Qingre asked: "Qiuqiu, is this really from my wife?"

Yan Qingqiu: 【Yeah, it's all from your Qiuqiu wife.】 Just as she was about to send it, she quickly deleted it. Her fingers and mind nearly split apart. She removed "Qiuqiu" and sent it.

The System was baffled: 【Isn't she looking for her wife? Why are you answering?】

The System, catching on after a couple of exchanges, asked: 【You're not actually her wife, are you?】

Yan Qingqiu: "Do I look insane enough to be her wife? I just don't want to tell her."

I'm wicked. I'm a monster!

The System couldn't wrap its head around how Yan Qingqiu could have become Song Qingre's wife, nor was it likely they were in some online romance—Song Qingre wasn't that stupid.

Song Qingre's tone turned warm and soft, "Honey... my wife... can you tell me... I miss you?"

Yan Qingqiu: 【Your wife misses you too. Wants to kiss you.】

With her index finger at a normal 36.6 degrees, the System watched her type the boldest words yet: 【mwah.】

Song Qingre probably got shy, typing instead of speaking: 【Thank you, honey. So content, so satisfied. I love you.】

Yan Qingqiu couldn't bring herself to type that, so after a pause, she sent a heart.

Song Qingre: 【Qiuqiu, can you tell my wife—like, send me a text version of I love you? I know my wife is a bit cold, but I want her to spoil me. I think my wife is the best woman in the world. She loves me so much...】

Yan Qingqiu stared at the screen, then glanced at her reflection in a mirror to the side. Her face was flushed with helpless embarrassment. She clenched her fingers, straightened up, and typed: 【Last one. I'm busy. I have work.】

Song Qingre's voice came through, obedient: "Mm."

Yan Qingqiu: 【Iloveyou】

Song Qingre, not picky: 【Satisfied. Thank you, honey. Me too.】

【mua! (*╯3╰)】

Yan Qingqiu quickly closed the window and flopped onto her desk, imagining herself dead.

On the other end, Song Qingre reviewed all the chat logs, deleted the abnormal ones, took screenshots, and sent them to Fu Ye's email. She typed: 【Thank you for the document. My wife and I are doing great now. We're quite stable.】

Sent successfully. Tit for tat. Hope Fu Ye's mental state holds up.

She rested her chin on her interlaced hands, repeatedly savoring the messages "his wife" had sent, her eyes softening with tenderness. She looked gentler now, though still not enough to reveal her joy.

Song Qingre opened her social media feed and carefully composed a post: 【heart heart heart "My wife loves me, my wife dotes on me. I'm the happiest woman in the world" heart biubiubiu launching.】 With an attached image.

Yan Qingqiu saw the post half an hour later. Her own profile picture—an Ultraman in red briefs shooting a laser—had been photoshopped, a pink brush stroke adding a red heart inside the square frame, as if afraid anyone might miss how in love they were. A small arrow pointed at it with a note: "It's from my wife, not Qiuqiu."

She figured Song Qingre was trying to clarify that the speaker was "the wife," not Yan Qingqiu herself. But to anyone else, it would only look like denial, proving Yan Qingqiu was her wife.

Oh god. Oh god.

Yan Qingqiu wanted to bang her head against the wall. She already saw Ye Sichun had liked the post.

Ye Sichun: 【Your wife is light.】

Song Qingre: 【I am forever burning for the light.】

Worried her translation was off, Yan Qingqiu copied the line into a translation app to double-check. She had to admit she was moved... and also terrified.

What do I do, what do I do?

Did Song Qingre take this seriously? Oh god.

Should I go tell her that her wife was just me pretending?

Didn't it start as just talk?

How did it become real?

···

Yan Qingqiu wanted to ask but didn't dare, afraid the truth would upset Song Qingre, and also afraid she'd fold under pressure, get drawn in by a few words, and end up calling Song Qingre "wife" back and forth.

Sigh.

Just then, Su Xingjie came over. Yan Qingqiu quickly shut down her computer, her chin propped on her hand. Su Xingjie handed her a contract. "Qiu Bao, the contract. Tomorrow afternoon, I'll drive you to the shoot."

Yan Qingqiu took the contract and flipped through it. Just as she was about to sign, the pen tip left a few dark blots on the paper. She looked up, curious. "This... isn't this a bit weird?"

"Hmm? What's wrong?" Su Xingjie came to her side. "Did I miss something?"

"Look here." Yan Qingqiu pointed at a parenthetical in the contract. "In the signature line, she wrote 'alpha.' Our last contract didn't specify that. Why did they add this stipulation specifically to the ad shoot contract?"

The previous contract was for endorsement—a two-year deal negotiated to twenty-eight million. This ad was additional. After their names in the signature line, there was a (alpha). Yan Qingqiu was puzzled: "Why are they suddenly specifying secondary gender?"

Su Xingjie examined the contract. Yan Qingqiu was an alpha herself, so whether this clause was there or not didn't matter. But seeing how sensitive Yan Qingqiu was, she asked anyway: "Aren't you an alpha?"

"Yeah, I am." Yan Qingqiu's admission was full of guilt.

"Then signing this is no problem," Su Xingjie said.

"But what if... what if one day, just as a hypothetical, I suddenly undergo secondary differentiation and evolve from an A to a B? Then wouldn't this contract let them sue us for any reason?"

"Secondary differentiation?" Su Xingjie narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing her best friend. She crossed her arms and eyed Yan Qingqiu. "Qiu Bao, going from A to B doesn't really count as evolution."

Yan Qingqiu's heart was pounding with guilt, but going from A to O would definitely count as evolution. She forced herself to sound calm: "I said it was a hypothetical. I just think adding secondary gender is immature and not sincere. I'm worried that if something happens to me, you'd get stuck with the bill."

Su Xingjie didn't press further. Her heart softened, touched by her concern. She placed a hand on Yan Qingqiu's shoulder. "Thanks for thinking of me, Qiu Bao. I'll have them change it. But Qiu Bao, you've been smelling kind of sweet lately."

With that, Su Xingjie leaned in and sniffed. "Really, a bit sweet."

"Might be my alpha pheromones starting to develop," Yan Qingqiu said with solemn sincerity.

"Really..." Su Xingjie squinted and took another whiff. Yan Qingqiu tilted her head and patted her shoulder magnanimously. "Here, go on, sniff again."

Su Xingjie leaned closer and inhaled. There really was a noticeable fragrance.

Yan Qingqiu giggled. "Come on, get a few more sniffs in. Careful you don't send yourself into heat—then I'll call 120 to haul you out. Heh."

As Su Xingjie came close, Yan Qingqiu hooked an arm around her neck and shoved her down against her shoulder. Su Xingjie's teeth clacked against it. Whether she got a sniff or not, she definitely got a mouthful of shoulder. "You nearly knocked my teeth loose."

"Let me see..." Yan Qingqiu laughed, leaning in to check her teeth. When Su Xingjie leaned in, Yan Qingqiu ruffled her hair into a mess.

Su Xingjie dodged a couple of times. "Come on, let's go get something to eat. Nothing to do this afternoon anyway."

"Let's go."

ER had a cafeteria, and one of the reasons Yan Qingqiu was so eager to come to work was that the company food was tastier than home cooking.

Su Xingjie drove her out to eat.

They went for river fish at a small open-air spot by the river. A bowl of mango pomelo sago came first. Yan Qingqiu scooped at it with her spoon and asked Su Xingjie, "Have you ever fought or argued with Song Qingre behind the scenes?"

"Never. Honestly, Song Qingre has never argued with me, even though I've cursed her out plenty."

Su Xingjie thought about it and felt a bit awkward, adding, "How should I put it... It's obvious she feels hostile toward me, but she never deliberately targets me."

She wasn't lying, and she sure wasn't going to badmouth Song Qingre. If Yan Qingqiu didn't badmouth Song Qingre, Su Xingjie didn't think she was bad, all things considered.

As she spoke, Su Xingjie's phone rang. It was the perfume company, asking why the contract couldn't include "alpha." They only wanted alphas for this shoot, and the endorsement was planned that way too. If Yan Qingqiu wasn't an alpha, they'd have to renegotiate.

Su Xingjie frowned deeply, displeased with their stance.

Yan Qingqiu said, "Just ask them: why didn't they mention this before? Is their perfume only for alphas? Are beta and omega excluded? If so, that feels like digging their own grave. Products for women shouldn't be divided by ABO—it's almost discriminatory. If that's how it is, we should hash it out now, before they ruin my reputation..."

"You have a point. We've worked together for so long, and this is the first time something like this has come up. I wonder if someone's pulling strings. Honestly, I don't want to burn this bridge. Two hundred million is nothing to sneeze at."

"Mm, check if Fu Ye's behind it. It feels off. If they insist on restricting usage, then forget it."

Su Xingjie nodded, well aware of the stakes. She called them straight back and stated her position: she never imposed gender requirements on her models, and if they insisted on this clause, the ad deal was off. If they wanted to continue later, they'd have to agree to additional terms, and the perfume company would have to keep such language out of future promotions as well.

The other side was evasive. Su Xingjie didn't bother dragging it out and hung up. She had a hunch—they might know something...

Was there really something wrong with Qiu Bao's secondary gender?

"Eat up." Yan Qingqiu slid the fish over to her, picking out the bones as she went. "You're always running around, you need the nourishment... here, have the best part."

"Mm..." Su Xingjie stopped brooding and quietly enjoyed the river view and the food with her best friend, smiling at her.

After they finished eating, they strolled along the riverbank for a bit.

By the time they headed back, the sky was overcast. It was 3:30, and Yan Qingqiu sat in the passenger seat, phone in hand, typing a message to Yan Fu: 【Dad, when you were sick before, was it Xiaore—】 She fixed it: 【was it Song Qingre who took care of you?】

Yan Fu hadn't replied yet. Su Xingjie drove, guessing what she was thinking. Gripping the wheel, she said, "I asked Song Qingre that myself once... At a fashion show, she was there. I was trying to avoid her, didn't want to stir up conflict, and worried she'd pick a fight. By then she was already a famous artist. She didn't approach me either, but when you share a circle, you end up talking. I spoke first, said I knew that in her eyes, I was just like Fu Ye."

"What did she say?" Yan Qingqiu turned to look at her, curious. "I thought you'd say... she saw you as just like me."

Su Xingjie shook her head. She could clearly feel she was different from Yan Qingqiu—Song Qingre was only warm toward Yan Qingqiu, no matter what she'd done. "She said it was different. She said you were my friend, and as long as I was good to you, that was enough. Fighting with me or tripping me up wouldn't be worth it... We were on the balcony then. She said something odd. She said, 'If Qiuqiu realizes she has no friends left, then Qiuqiu would be way too pitiful.'"

"What does that mean?" Yan Qingqiu asked.

Su Xingjie smiled wryly. "You don't get it? She meant your temper is awful, and without me as a friend, you'd be totally isolated and helpless."

"...Oh." Yan Qingqiu nodded. She thought Su Xingjie's reading wasn't quite right, that Su Xingjie didn't really understand Song Qingre. She'd just have to ask Song Qingre herself later and hear what she had to say.

Su Xingjie was telling her all this because Yan Qingqiu had gotten over Fu Ye, and she'd become clearer-headed too. Over the years, aside from the fact that Yan Qingqiu had been blind and foolish in love with Fu Ye—which did annoy Su Xingjie—Song Qingre had never really hurt Yan Qingqiu.

There were things Su Xingjie couldn't do that Song Qingre could. She genuinely didn't think Song Qingre was as bad as Fu Ye made her out to be...

Su Xingjie just couldn't badmouth Song Qingre.

Whatever wickedness or excess Song Qingre had shown, it was because Qiu Bao had changed first. Everyone had accepted that Qiu Bao had changed, called it "maturity," said her tastes had evolved with her. Only Song Qingre hadn't accepted it. She was still holding on...

From Su Xingjie's position as an outsider, it was clear. Song Qingre's refutations... well, they were certainly polished up, but the first half rang true. Qiu Bao really had changed all of a sudden.

The transition from seventeen to eighteen had been too abrupt, quicker than the voice changes of teenage boys and girls.

Su Xingjie noticed, but she never said anything. She pressed her lips together. She didn't really want Qiu Bao to get too close to Song Qingre, but she couldn't bring herself to stab Song Qingre in the back like Fu Ye did.

Back at the company, Yan Qingqiu got out and checked her phone.

Yan Fu had replied: 【Mm, Xiaore comes to visit me. If she hadn't kept comforting me, telling me you'd get better, I really wouldn't have had the patience to wait for you to come to your senses. Now, whenever I think of it, I feel sorry for Xiaore. She's a good person.】

As an elder, he should have mediated the conflict and protected both children. But back then, all he could do was watch the rift deepen, and every time, it was the battered Song Qingre who came to take care of him. He replied: 【Qiuqiu, don't be as reckless as you were before. No one has the energy to go through that again.】

Yan Qingqiu thought, if Song Qingre was the villainess, then her father might as well be the senile supporting character who rooted for the villainess—the kind of parent in dramas who blindly backs the scheming seductress, their mind completely addled.

But I think Dad's pretty smart...

He knows who's genuinely good to his daughter...

Back in the office, Yan Qingqiu had just sat down when she received a video from Fu Ye.

Fu Ye had sent a ton of photos too, messy compressed files totaling 10 gigabytes. Yan Qingqiu didn't want to download them, but she swallowed her distaste and closed her eyes, clicking.

In the first video, it was clear: the shoe was placed by Song Qingre. She bent down, setting the shoe beside the shoe rack—a black high heel toppled next to a black leather shoe, as if its owner, in a frenzy, had done something scandalous at the doorstep. Anyone looking would grow tense. But after placing it, Song Qingre didn't rush off. She paused for a moment, turned to glance at the room beside her—at what, it was impossible to tell. She wore a black slip dress, her hair loosely tied in a bun. Half her face was hidden by a side-swept fringe, and her expression was unreadably dark.

That incident was from Year X7, two years ago. Song Qingre looked less mature than now, only twenty-two or twenty-three. Even then, she was this... this odd?

It was jarring. No smile of a scheme succeeding, no hint of vicious triumph—impossible to judge what she'd been thinking.

The video then showed "her" arriving at the door. Fu Ye came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, and upon seeing the shoe, the two started arguing.

Yan Qingqiu leaned in close, studying the screen. The "her" in the video was someone she'd only heard about—everyone described her as hot-tempered, blunt, and deeply in love with Fu Ye. But Yan Qingqiu found those descriptions far too flattering. She didn't immediately start cursing without knowing the facts; she immediately hugged Fu Ye, tried to kiss him, and when he pushed her away, she went berserk, grabbing the high heel and hurling it, her face nearly contorting. She seemed about to attack Song Qingre, but Fu Ye held her back, and the two got into a shouting, grappling match.

Yan Qingqiu noted "her" hairstyle: bright red.

Honestly, she didn't like this "her" either. No matter how pretty you are, you can't survive a crazy woman's screaming fight.

This confirmed something for Yan Qingqiu: a previous transmigrator had come here to do a strategy mission, and she was picking up where they left off. So what had made that transmigrator give up? Where had they gone? Dead? Hidden somewhere in this world? And what exactly had their mission been... to win over a scumbag, marry him, have sex with him?

She thought deeper, her finger clicking another video.

It was the winter pool incident Fu Ye had mentioned.

When she'd first read about it, she'd been shocked—she'd never imagined such a cheap, soap-opera trick. But really, the fault wasn't that the villainess's methods were flawed. It was that the male lead was idiotic enough to fall for it... Were all male leads across worlds this stupid?

The video didn't match her imagination. It started with Song Qingre saying something to "Yan Qingqiu." Song Qingre's expression barely shifted, but "Yan Qingqiu's" brows drew tighter, even panicking. When "she" spoke again, Song Qingre's feet stepped back, and then she closed her eyes and fell backward into the pool. Both wearing heavy winter coats, the fabric absorbed water instantly, and almost immediately, she sank. Song Qingre didn't struggle at all, as if courting death, as if she'd let herself drown. In the video, "Yan Qingqiu's" feet edged forward, but she stopped after a couple of steps, hands clenched. Only when Fu Ye rushed over did he pull Song Qingre out.

Song Qingre, choking on water, her eyes red, coughed violently, almost hacking up a lung. She said nothing, and it was impossible to tell if tears or pool water streaked down her face. She sat on the ground, wiping her face, utterly pitiful...

"Yan Qingqiu" stood frozen on the shore. Fu Ye started yelling at her, pointing and telling her to get lost. This time, "she" turned and ran, and "she" did get lost—but she didn't look wronged so much as running in stark terror.

Yan Qingqiu rubbed at the ache in her chest. Seeing Song Qingre like that made her miserable and suffocated. But even as dense as she was, she could see Song Qingre had something off about her. Yet she couldn't quite believe it. If that were true, she'd been wrong from the start.

Which would make me the female lead?

She shook her head, stunned. No, no, that can't be right. If I were the female lead, then I'd have been misunderstanding from the very start, taking the whole plot down the wrong path... Which would be fine, except... why didn't the System correct it?

Calm down, calm down... What if it's all Fu Ye's conspiracy, and he's just trying to drive a wedge between me and Song Qingre?

But what if...

"Qiu Jie, time to clock out. Director Su said we're leaving early today—it might rain on the road."

Yan Qingqiu grunted in acknowledgment and shut down her computer. Just as she was about to power it off, a thought struck her, and she opened her email again, typing a message to the other party: 【What are you trying to say? That you were the unreasonable one back then? That you're innocent? Why not reflect on how stupid you've been?】

After sending, she turned off the computer, packed her things, slung her bag over her shoulder, and headed home. Outside, she glanced at her phone, saw the old chat logs, and cringed. She didn't know what to say. After a few aborted attempts, she gave up.

···

Fu Ye received the message without a trace of panic. After all, the past had been laid out for everyone to see. Even if both sides bore blame, it was fifty-fifty. Song Qingre would never again have a spotless image in Yan Qingqiu's eyes. From now on, whatever Song Qingre did, Yan Qingqiu would always wonder if she was putting on an act, whether Song Qingre was still the immaculate artist, the untarnished moonlight that would never fall.

After reading the message, he leisurely called Song Qingre, his phone set to record.

The call connected quickly. Song Qingre's voice came through, neither warm nor cold, her control impeccable. "What is it?"

"I've already shown Qiuqiu what you did. Watching it again, I was taken aback myself. A woman like you is truly vicious; ordinary people probably couldn't handle it. As an artist, you have no shame. You're quite the pick-me, quite the lowlife."

Song Qingre initially held the phone, then set it down after a moment, crossing her long legs in a casual posture, staring at the wisps of tea steam rising in a thin column from the rim of the cup on her desk. The tea's aroma was faint, too subtle to catch without bringing the cup to your nose.

"What artist doesn't cultivate their character with tea?" Song Qingre said. "But I must correct you on one point. You still don't know me. Even Qiuqiu knows, and you still haven't figured it out."

"What is it?" Fu Ye indeed felt he never understood her. Talking to her stoked the fire in his chest, reminding him how she'd played him, how utterly stupid he'd been. Song Qingre's voice was light, like a fine, silent drizzle—"We artists... are mostly perverts."

Fu Ye's heart jolted; her words struck his very soul.

Great artists all have their perverse stubbornness and obsessions...

"Before I jumped into the pool, I said something to Qiuqiu. It was the only time she didn't make a scene with you, acted perfectly obedient. Remember?"

"What?"

But Song Qingre didn't continue. She hung up. Fu Ye called back, but she didn't answer, and then he found himself blocked. The dread coiled in his chest. He had to find out.

What?

What did she say? Slander me?

Or something else...

Song Qingre turned off her phone and rose from her chair. Sheng Huajian came over to organize the files and mentioned, "Boss, there's a storm coming later. Did you bring an umbrella?"

"A storm?" Song Qingre scrolled her mouse to the weather widget in the corner. Rain was expected in two hours—and it was forecast as a heavy downpour.

Since autumn rain was coming, she might as well make use of it.

They called her tea, said she was a repulsive green tea, didn't they?

She couldn't let his little scheme go to waste.

She'd just give him a show.

Song Qingre looked at the weather again, then drew her gaze back, speaking softly: "It's fine. You head out when you're done. I'm going out later to grab dinner with a friend."

"Alright..." Sheng Huajian eyed her warily.

The rain was coming. Storm clouds swallowed half the sky, blocking the light, and the office grew dim.

Song Qingre took her coat from the chair, shrugged it on, closed her laptop, and left the office quickly. Outside, a fine drizzle had already begun, the wind carrying the chill of autumn. There had been little rain this autumn; the forecast said it would last two or three days.

Once the rain stopped, winter would arrive.

Leaving the company, Song Qingre lifted her wrist to check her heart rate—normal. The time read 16:47.

That winter two years ago had been freezing, the pool water biting cold. Thinking back, it felt like centuries ago, but she remembered it vividly. It was the only time Qiuqiu hadn't yelled at her.

But it wasn't because Qiuqiu had gotten better. It was because she'd let herself be dragged down.

That day, she'd told Qiuqiu: "Hello, my patience has reached its limit. If you don't return my treasure to me soon, if I don't get her back, then we'll go down together. I don't mind cutting you open to see where you've hidden my treasure—whether it's in your brain, your heart, or some other organ. If I can't find it... then I'll cut you open piece by piece until I do. Sorry, but I can't wait any longer. I don't know if she's doing well, but I'm going to start punishing you now. Go ahead and call me a pervert, call me crazy—you're right. I can't control myself anymore. So let's make a bet first: who dies first... I miss her..."