Chapter 47

Yan Qingqiu had just placed the order when the System immediately popped up to stop her.

System: 【Are you crazy? This will affect the plot!】

Yan Qingqiu shot back: 【What plot am I affecting? Isn't your game supposed to have high freedom? If I can't do this and can't do that, I'm starting to think the male lead is your precious darling.】

The System took a long moment to calm its anger before replying: 【Do you have a problem with your brain? What if something goes wrong with this package you bought? You're filming an ad right now—if you mess up, are you sure you won't make your good sister lose money?】

Yan Qingqiu was silent for a moment, then nodded. 【You make a good point.】

Su Xingjie had been running around for her all day, and Yan Qingqiu wanted to earn some money for her friend too. She leaned against Su Xingjie and asked, "Babe, let me ask you something. If I end up fighting with Fu Ye later and it causes a bad influence, will you lose money over it?"

Su Xingjie thought it over. Fu Ye clearly had some connection to Wilderness, so they did need to be careful. But the way Fu Ye kept looking at Yan Qingqiu with that disgusting gaze was also hard to stomach.

She said, "You want to hit Fu Ye? Really badly? How about we skip today's shoot and you just beat him up first."

Yan Qingqiu countered: "Do you want to?"

"Who doesn't want to hit that bastard?" Su Xingjie said calmly. She'd held back again and again, thinking that making money could suppress her anger toward Fu Ye. "How about you beat him up first, and if Wilderness still signs with us after that, we'll shoot?"

"Forget it, fighting damages my image. Say I hire a funeral procession to play at his house—would Wilderness make me pay for that?"

"What does that have to do with Wilderness? It's not like you're going to the Wilderness CEO's house to play. Even if you went to their house, it'd be fine—the contract says you can't tarnish Wilderness's reputation, just don't mess around. If Wilderness is going to control that much, they might as well control you going to funerals."

"But doesn't it disturb public order? What if Wilderness picks a fight over it?"

"You go to your ex-fiancé's house with funeral music, and Wilderness is going to care about that? Do they think ER is a pushover? If they dare to interfere, I dare to go manage Wilderness's finances. It's not like you're committing some heinous crime. Even if it went to court, they'd lose." Su Xingjie said it was no big deal—she'd cleaned up plenty of messes for her models, and this kind of trivial thing was normal. They could argue their way out even in a lawsuit.

Yan Qingqiu laughed. "Then I won't hold back."

The System was left speechless, silent for a long while.

It watched helplessly as Yan Qingqiu placed the deluxe order with a note: 【I'll order ten more wreaths separately. Do a good job and I'll book you for three consecutive days.】

Seller: 【Don't worry, we ship discreetly and never reveal buyer information. Just wait and see.】

Yan Qingqiu had thought about buying this package before and had saved the shop for a long time. Their ad claimed "a decade-old shop," with a 100% positive rating—very professional.

After replying, Yan Qingqiu went to shoot the ad. Su Xingjie followed her in, worried she'd be nervous, and kept comforting her not to overthink it—it was just an ad.

Yan Qingqiu went to change clothes, and Fu Ye followed her in too. He stood nearby watching as she changed into a sexy dress.

For the three months of autumn, Yan Qingqiu had dressed quite modestly. Now she slipped into the low-cut, backless dress and, under the photographer's direction, walked a few steps down the runway. Then she sat on the steps, pressed the perfume bottle against her cheek, and let the camera film her. Finally, she lay down, and the photographer stood straddling her body as she placed the bottle in the hollow of her neck. Her red lips were alluring as she pressed a kiss onto the clear glass bottle—seductive and provocative.

The shoot's lighting was a gaudy dark gold, and Yan Qingqiu was the proud princess, radiating an innate air of nobility.

The shoot finished smoothly, and Wilderness approached Su Xingjie again to discuss adding a few promotional stills and possibly arranging a magazine feature for her.

Su Xingjie nodded. "Fine, as long as you pay extra."

Yan Qingqiu shot successfully, lifting her skirt to photograph her alluring neck and waist. The photographer couldn't stop praising her, all agreeing she was smoking hot.

Yan Qingqiu even blew a kiss at the photographer.

As she was leaving, Fu Ye sat inside, staring dazedly at her. Yan Qingqiu had become truly striking now, completely different from before. She was so beautiful, with a wildness that was hard to tame. She'd known how to dress before too, but she'd never looked this noble—he'd only ever found her vulgar.

Su Xingjie draped a jacket over Yan Qingqiu, who shivered and laughed. Su Xingjie said, "Qiu Bao, you're definitely going to blow up."

Yan Qingqiu's cheeks flushed. "Don't say that, it's embarrassing."

Fu Ye could only watch, unable to participate. If Yan Qingqiu had been like this toward him back then, he would have loved her wholeheartedly.

Yan Qingqiu changed clothes and was about to leave when Fu Ye couldn't hold back. He stood up and rushed over to grab her hand.

Yan Qingqiu frowned at him grabbing her arm, but she didn't curse at him to get lost. A flicker of surprise lit Fu Ye's eyes. Yan Qingqiu simply looked over at Su Xingjie beside her.

"Xing Xing, film this. He's harassing me, putting his hands on me."

Su Xingjie snapped back to reality, immediately pulled out her phone, and aimed it at Yan Qingqiu and Fu Ye.

Fu Ye didn't let go at first, just staring at the two of them. Only when Su Xingjie's lens came in for a close-up did he reluctantly release his grip. "Qiuqiu..."

Yan Qingqiu bent down, grabbed a tissue from the table to wipe her hand, and then stepped far away from him.

"I'm telling you, if you keep pestering me, if you won't give up, don't blame me for not treating you like a living person. Pfft." Yan Qingqiu finished, turned, and left. She called out to Su Xingjie, and the two of them strode out of the perfume company.

Fu Ye watched her go, always reminded of past images. The moment Yan Qingqiu disappeared, it felt like a piece of his heart was missing too.

Fu Ye walked forward, still fantasizing about Yan Qingqiu turning back, but she didn't. She got in her car and drove off, one in front of the other with Su Xingjie.

He looked at his secretary nearby and asked, "Do you think... do you think she's been replaced by something? Why doesn't she love me anymore?"

Because you're a scumbag and she found out. The secretary held up her phone and said, "The chairman called. He says you need to come back right away. Something's happened."

"What happened?"

"Someone's delivering wreaths in front of the company!"

"What about the security guards? Have them drive them off. Is some family member making a fuss again? No one at the company died, right?" Fu Ye said irritably.

The secretary showed him a photo, and Fu Ye's face changed drastically. The wreaths bore his name, his father's name, and his mother's name—the whole family, neatly together.

"Call security right away and find out who sent them. If they don't leave, call the police directly."

"...It might be Miss Yan," the secretary said in a hushed voice. "There's writing on the wreath too. It says, 'From a woman sexually harassed by Fu Ye.'"

Same-day delivery was fast. When Yan Qingqiu came out of the company, her phone already had a shipping notification. The shop owner even sent her a photo—a crowd of people in a funeral procession car heading over to pay their respects.

"Xing Xing, I'll show you something fun. Follow my car for a bit," Yan Qingqiu said. Su Xingjie had a feeling it wasn't anything good, but since Yan Qingqiu said it was fun, she still drove along behind her.

The car kept following, and soon Su Xingjie realized the navigation was heading toward the Fu Group building. She called out on the Bluetooth earpiece, "Hey, why are we going here?"

Yan Qingqiu was mysterious about it and didn't say directly. When they arrived, Su Xingjie understood. The two of them parked far apart.

Su Xingjie watched as a group played suona horns and beat drums, while others, dressed in mourning clothes, wailed on the ground as if their hearts were breaking. Worst of all, a speaker beside them blasted: "My poor son! Fu Ye, you died so tragically! Fu Zhenguo, if you're watching from below, you must teach our son well! Fu Ye, you died so horribly! Zhenguo, pitiful you, so young and gone before your time..."

Qiu Bao had actually dared to hire a funeral procession to add to the festivities.

She felt like the Qiu Bao from their school days was back—bold, daring everything. Qiu Bao seemed to have grown up, and yet she also seemed stuck at eighteen.

"What's wrong? You're not getting sad from their crying, are you?" Yan Qingqiu quickly handed her a tissue.

Su Xingjie shook her head. She just felt like her safe haven had come back.

The cries carried across the whole company. Employees streamed out to watch, some filming. The area outside the Fu Group was in complete chaos.

Several elderly people tipped wreaths onto the ground. The wreaths bore elegiac couplets: "Fu Ye, a sexual harasser, doesn't deserve to live; may the eighteen levels of hell skin you alive" and one for Fu Ye's parents: "A father's fault when the son goes wrong; may your old age be ruined and your heart break."

Each line was more vicious than the last. They collapsed in droves, shouting over one another. No real tears fell, but their wails echoed through the entire company.

The funeral procession was extremely dedicated—crying and making a fuss nonstop. When security came to clear them out, they simply collapsed onto the ground.

Some of the bolder, more dedicated ones even grabbed the security guards, crying and making a scene, holding out bowls for them to contribute money.

When the guards tried to get physical, the elderly ones lay flat on the ground, leaving them completely helpless.

Yan Qingqiu finally understood why the shop had such good sales—because these people were old, you couldn't lay a hand on them. The moment they hit the ground, you'd practically have to pay them to leave.

Just watching was satisfying.

Yan Qingqiu recorded a video on her phone, thinking she'd send it to Song Qingre to look at. She texted the butler first: 【What's Song Qingre doing?】

The butler replied: 【Sleeping. Seems she didn't sleep well last night.】

Yan Qingqiu replied with a "good" and, since it was still raining, they stood in the rain for a while before getting back in the car. The elderly crowd was putting on quite a show. Soon Fu Ye drove up. His eyes were sharp, and he spotted Yan Qingqiu's car right away. He pulled his car over, blocking hers, and asked urgently, "Did you do this?"

"Why would I do that? It's definitely not me. I just came to watch the commotion out of curiosity. Who else have you sexually harassed this time?" Yan Qingqiu refused to admit it, looking to see if that piece of trash Fu Ye had hooked up with someone else, or was juggling multiple women.

Fu Ye was stumped. "Recently I've only been pursuing you."

"Don't say 'pursuing.' I've made it clear—don't like me, don't chase me, don't think your love can make me happy. If you still won't give up, that's harassment." Yan Qingqiu pointed her phone at Fu Ye and recorded. "Think hard—maybe one of your flings is getting revenge on you. If she comes after me too, I won't be polite."

Fu Ye, seeing how serious she was, started to doubt himself and said with a headache, "I really haven't recently."

"What about before?" Yan Qingqiu sneered. Sure enough, a scumbag still flirting with other women.

She added angrily, "If it's not you, is it your dad? I heard he keeps plenty of women on the side. Maybe one of his mistresses did it. You're not suspecting me, are you? For someone like you, claiming to like me, you can't even manage basic trust."

"It's not..." Fu Ye opened his mouth.

Yan Qingqiu saw an old man successfully squeeze money out of a Fu Group executive, so she quickly got out of the car to record a video. After filming, she waved at Su Xingjie, who was watching the show. "Let's go, Xing Xing. It's unlucky here. Who knows if this is a person or a ghost."

Su Xingjie said regretfully, "Mmhm hm. Fu Ye, my condolences."

As she spoke, she linked arms with Yan Qingqiu and asked, "I probably shouldn't talk to Fu Ye anymore, right? I mean, he's already dead."

Fu Ye tried to speak, but Su Xingjie kept cutting him off. Yan Qingqiu didn't even look at him, got in the car, and was about to leave. Fu Ye couldn't stop her, and with the crying and wailing happening over there, he had to go deal with it. He could only stand there in the wind, at a loss. Yan Qingqiu drove off, and Fu Ye hurried to handle the mourners at the gate.

Yan Qingqiu calmly drove back around and continued watching and recording the best moments. Su Xingjie was starting to get suspicious. "Qiu Bao, this really isn't you?"

"It is me," Yan Qingqiu admitted openly. "But I want to sow discord and make him taste his own medicine. I'll play the villain too."

Even if Fu Ye knew she did it, so what? Yan Qingqiu didn't believe he'd dare take it public. Would Fu Ye dare claim to be the victim?

She didn't believe he could keep loving her after this!

Male lead, if you keep loving me, that's just rude.

Trash!

Yan Qingqiu didn't hurry off. She enjoyed the view from the car for a while, watching Fu Ye run over to handle it, only to be grabbed by the old folks crying. An old man clutched his leg and yanked at his pants, wailing, "Fu Ye, don't die! Don't you die! I can't live without you!"

Su Xingjie laughed. "Qiuqiu's being pretty vicious."

"Hahaha." Yan Qingqiu accepted it. "Thanks for the compliment, babe."

As she finished speaking, Yan Qingqiu felt a sharp pain in her head. She wasn't worried though, and said directly to the System: 【Keep hurting me if you want. Preferably cause a traffic accident next... Oh my God, then I'd be dead~ You wouldn't actually be that stupid, would you?】

If Song Qingre was the real villainess and she herself was the female lead, then the System wouldn't let her body die, right? As she said this, she pressed the accelerator and sped up, far faster than her usual driving speed.

Sure enough, the pain in her head lessened.

I'd better be the female lead. Then I'll have you wrapped around my finger.

····

This incident had blown up way too big. The Fu Company's higher-ups had all been fleeced by the elderly crowd, especially Fu Ye's parents, who'd lost face completely. They'd actually been mourned as if they were dead. A few older women had lunged at his car door, crying, leaving dried snot stains on his suit.

Fu Ye's father had just finished a business meeting and stormed into Fu Ye's office, immediately jabbing a finger at his nose. "Are you stupid or just brain-damaged? She acts like that and you still like her? Back then she liked you and you didn't like her. Are you sick? Are you into being abused now?"

Fu Ye had always had a bad relationship with his parents. His father, Fu Zhenguo, had never liked this son, and the two had never gotten along. Fu Ye pretended not to hear him. Fu Zhenguo kept going. "You've made our family lose all face."

Fu Ye flipped through documents indifferently. "A fish rots from the head down. I'm exactly what you made me."

His father's head throbbed with anger—even without a condition, this son would give him one. He tried to straighten his suit, saw the dried white snot stains, and nodded heavily. "Go out and see what people are saying about you now. Every other young master is building a career, and you're just churning out scandals day after day."

Fu Ye shot back: "You're embarrassed now? Where was that embarrassment when you were having affairs? I haven't even reached your level yet. And how do you know it was Yan Qingqiu? I have reliable intel that it was one of your mistresses."

Neither father nor son was any good. To Fu Zhenguo, cheating was just something people gossiped about—no big deal. Every man cheated. A man who didn't cheat was just unsuccessful in his career.

But today, Fu Ye had embarrassed him badly. He'd brought people to their company to wail at their doorstep, and who knew what impact this would have on the company now that it had blown up.

Fu Zhenguo said, "I won't approve of you marrying Yan Qingqiu. Cut ties with her completely. I'll personally find you a new marriage prospect, and we'll tell the public you dumped her."

Fu Ye frowned. "Who are you trying to set me up with? Still trying to control me?"

He naturally refused.

Fu Zhenguo said directly: "That Luo girl seems fine to me. Her father's business has grown big lately. If you marry her, it'll benefit our company. Besides, you two grew up together and know each other well. Also, she likes you, so you'll have an easier time controlling her later. Marriage is just that—once you're married, you can play all you want. Just behave yourself."

"Impossible. I don't like Luo Xi," Fu Ye refused. "I won't live my life according to your script."

Fu Zhenguo sneered. "What, are you waiting for Luo Xi to stop liking you before you'll like her? I've said my piece. If you don't want to marry her, there are plenty who want your CEO seat."

Fu Ye gritted his teeth. Fu Zhenguo had the upper hand. "Your wings aren't hard yet, and you're fighting your old man. What a joke."

The words landed in Fu Ye's ears, and he couldn't hold back. He swung his fist and smashed it into the keyboard. Did the Fu family's current status not come from his every step? If it weren't for him, the Fu family would have gone bankrupt long ago. How could it have reached its current scale?

These old geezers were just throwing their weight around!

Neither father nor son would yield. They were locked in a standoff, each scheming over who controlled the company. The anger that had been simmering for so long was about to explode.

Someone leaked the scene. The whole company began speculating about who would win, father or son, and who really ran things now.

·

Yan Qingqiu was pleased with herself for a while after pulling this off, but she also worried she'd blown things too big. After parting with Su Xingjie, she quickly called Yan Fu. If anything went wrong, her father could protect her in time.

When this came out, Yan Fu immediately thought his daughter did it, and he felt grounded. Worried the Fu family would disregard all decency and pull some trick to send Yan Qingqiu to jail, Yan Fu had just finished a meeting and was frantic, about to call Yan Qingqiu when she called him first.

Yan Fu answered with a headache. "Although I don't approve of you having anything to do with the Fu family..."

"Dad, don't worry. I had no choice—it's mainly because Fu Ye keeps harassing me. If people outside curse me, I'll just say he harassed me first. We'll see who goes to jail." Yan Qingqiu explained. "Also, he keeps insulting Song Xiaore, saying she seduced him back then. I couldn't stand it, so I wanted to torment him."

There was a moment of silence on the line. Yan Qingqiu was wondering if she should apologize to her father when she heard him curse from the other end: "Filthy bastard!"

The corridor outside the Yan Group meeting room echoed with a furious roar. Yan Fu, always known for his gentle demeanor, swore loudly: "That filthy bastard! He did it himself, and now he won't own up to it—he's blaming everything on Little Re? If Little Re hadn't been nice to him all these years for your sake, she wouldn't have given him the time of day! And now he's strutting around like a pig climbing a tree!"

Yan Qingqiu hummed in agreement. "Exactly. What if they sue me..."

"Dad will hire you eighteen lawyers. I don't believe we can't beat them."

Yan Fu had been about to lecture Yan Qingqiu, but now the tune changed completely. "What you did was a bit impulsive, but you're not wrong. It's Fu Ye who crossed the line. If I'd been there, I'd have beaten that bastard to death."

Yan Qingqiu listened to her father curse, feeling the anger vented from her heart too. But Yan Fu was cursing for a long time, and she started to worry about her father's image. Fortunately, the secretary beside him reminded him, "Chairman, everyone can hear you. Let's first see how things play out on their end. It's not necessarily obvious that the young miss did it."

Yan Qingqiu was very calm now. "I also called about something else. Give me Fu Ye's parents' phone numbers. I want to have a nice chat with them."

Yan Fu disliked Fu Ye, so naturally he disliked his whole family too. Although Fu Ye and Yan Qingqiu had been engaged, Yan Fu never acknowledged it. The Fu family had wanted to cooperate with them, but Yan Fu had been dismissive. The last cooperation had nearly bankrupted him, and he knew very well that not a single member of the Fu family was any good. Over the years, the two families had never once had a formal meeting.

"I'll find them. You be careful."

Yan Qingqiu was almost home. She texted the butler first: 【How's Song Qingre? Still coughing?】

The butler replied: 【Gave her some cough syrup. She should be fine now.】

Yan Qingqiu: 【Any fever?】

The butler said: 【No fever. She just said she had some inspiration and is painting.】

Yan Qingqiu: 【She should rest properly.】

The rain still hadn't stopped—a steady medium drizzle. She directly texted Song Qingre: 【Anything you want to eat? I'll buy it for you, but nothing too spicy.】

Song Qingre didn't reply. Yan Qingqiu sat in the car waiting. She wasn't a patient person, so she drove around nearby, thinking she'd see if there was anything interesting to buy. She circled and bought a whole pile of stuff. When she got back in the car, her phone dinged.

Song Qingre: 【Buy some strawberries, I suddenly want some.】

Yan Qingqiu looked at the strawberries she'd just bought. What a coincidence—the first thing that came to mind when she saw them was whether Song Qingre would want them.

Yan Qingqiu didn't like strawberries. She'd been poor before, and there was a period when she'd really craved them. She'd just gotten promoted back then, salary up to 4000 a month, so she bought some—but one bite and she regretted it. They were so sour. How could strawberries be this sour? Nothing like she'd imagined.

Until one day she saw a post saying: Strawberries are so sweet and delicious.

Yan Qingqiu was naive and commented below: Aren't they sour?

The other person replied: You must have bought cheap ones.

Whether cheap or not, her impression of strawberries had been cemented the moment her mouth flooded with saliva—sour as hell.

When buying strawberries just now, she'd deliberately picked the expensive ones, big and plump, looking perfectly sweet.

If Song Xiaore liked them, they couldn't be sour.

She drove back, a little faster than usual. As she pulled into the courtyard, she spotted Song Qingre sitting on the balcony painting, gaze fixed on the plum tree. She painted it blooming, she painted it withering, she painted it even as it was dying.

Yan Qingqiu sighed. She truly didn't understand the tastes of artists.

Yan Qingqiu got out of the car and went to grab things from the trunk. It was only a few steps, but the butler still held an umbrella over her. In the past, Yan Qingqiu had never been this delicate—to save money, she'd stood in an hour-long downpour waiting to get into the metro, never catching a cold.

"Thank you, Uncle Dong."

Yan Qingqiu carried the snacks upstairs to Song Qingre's room. She pushed the door open carefully, trying not to disturb her. Song Qingre was painting intently and didn't notice her arrival, so Yan Qingqiu set the things on the floor and was about to leave, then remembered Song Qingre wanted strawberries.

Fine, she'd wash them while she was here.

She took the strawberries to the bathroom to wash them, and in the meantime got a message from her father with the Fu family's phone numbers.

She finished washing the strawberries and brought them over to Song Qingre. Song Qingre looked up at her, eyes soft, lips curving into a faint smile. That smile made the storm outside feel gentle.

"Eat. Eat some strawberries."

"My hands have paint on them." Song Qingre lifted her hand, showing her paint-stained fingers.

Yan Qingqiu pinched a bright red strawberry and brought it to her lips. Song Qingre parted her mouth and bit off the tip of the large strawberry, lips moistened, eyes reflecting Yan Qingqiu's image as she blinked slowly. She savored the strawberry and said, "Sweet."

Yan Qingqiu nodded. In that moment, she finally believed strawberries were sweet.

She brought a strawberry to her own mouth, and the sweet-tart taste spread across her tongue. Strawberries were good.

Curious, she bent down to see what Song Qingre was painting. The plum tree drooped its withered branches; cracked old bark split open to reveal new growth within. Song Qingre's brushwork was delicate, her eyesight seemingly sharp, able to make out many details. The plum tree in the storm seemed to be crying.

After looking, she straightened up and fed Song Qingre a strawberry, eating one herself. Song Qingre accidentally bit her finger, and she rubbed her fingertips, nearly smearing red juice onto her clothes. Yan Qingqiu said casually, "If you have time, I'll model for you. You can paint me however you want..."

"Mm..."

Yan Qingqiu finished speaking and bolted toward the bedroom, afraid Song Qingre would want to paint her right then. She sprawled on Song Qingre's bed and put in her Bluetooth earbuds.

She dialed the number Yan Fu had given her.

The first call wasn't answered, so she called again. Finally someone picked up, and a middle-aged man's deep voice rumbled.

"Who is this?"

Yan Qingqiu turned on a voice changer and said, "I'm a woman who's been harassed by your son."

The voice on the other end paused immediately—she could practically feel the anger surging. Yan Qingqiu didn't bother with games and cut straight to it: "I'll say this once. If you can't control your son and he keeps harassing me, don't blame me for getting nasty. I'll come to your house and cause a scene. Don't think I don't know where you live."

"Don't push it. If it weren't for your father's sake, I'd have had you thrown in jail long ago." Fu Zhenguo said coldly, the sound of his hand crushing his phone audible through the speaker. His fury was palpable even through the screen.

Yan Qingqiu was delighted. She could tell Fu Zhenguo was trying to fish for her identity, but she wouldn't admit it, and he couldn't do anything to her anyway. She deliberately said cheerfully, "I hope you understand Chinese. Let me repeat myself: if your son harasses me one more time, you can expect a full funeral package. Tomorrow I'll buy you a gravestone inscribed 'Fu Family's Sexual Harassment Shall Live Forever.' Don't think I won't do it."

Fu Zhenguo knew she had the means to pull it off; he was just stunned by Yan Qingqiu's complete disregard for reason. Yan Qingqiu continued, "If you blindly support your son and want me to forgive him, then let me be direct: give me fifty billion, and you and Fu Ye's mother can kneel and bring it to me yourself. After that, you can serve me tea and water every day, and only then will I even consider it..."

"In the meantime, you can just get by any way you like. Dog food and cat food are edible too~ It's your son's fault for harassing me. Not only that, but I'll move my father and my butler over to your place, and we'll live off you and spend your money~ I heard you don't get along with Fu Ye. Come winter, I'll kick you both out to beg..."

Before she could finish, the call was cut off.

Yan Qingqiu shrugged. This family had a low tolerance for grief—hung up after just a few words. She checked her recording. If the Fu family tried to edit things later, she had evidence to fire back.

Yan Qingqiu lay on the bed scrolling through trending topics. The topic had already been suppressed. Some people mentioned the incident, but no one dared discuss it openly. The Fu family couldn't stomach the shame and had already bought their way off the hot search.

Yan Qingqiu sent Fu Zhenguo a message: 【Every time your son sends me a message, I'll call you once. However many times he harasses me, I'll harass you that many times. And I won't just contact you—I'll contact your siblings, your mistresses, your wife's lovers, everyone. We'll see who loses face first.】

She refused to believe Fu Ye could still love her after this. Even the most desperate simp had limits, right? If he could keep loving her, his brain was probably broken.

Yan Qingqiu lay in Song Qingre's room playing for a long while, until Song Qingre set down her brush and sighed. She'd painted all day but still hadn't reached her ideal.

"Are you feeling better? Maybe the cold is affecting your judgment. I think it looks great. Why not paint it tomorrow?" Yan Qingqiu turned on her side to look at her, chin propped on her hand, her voice gentle as she asked.

Song Qingre nodded. "A little better." When she spoke, she still coughed once or twice and looked down, a bit embarrassed.

Yan Qingqiu watched her for a full minute, then pushed her phone forward. Song Qingre didn't look at her, so she got off the bed. "Here... let me show you something."

"What is it?" Song Qingre looked at her, puzzled.

Yan Qingqiu sat up straight, handed her phone over, and played the video she'd recorded today.

Then she sat back on the edge of the bed, watching Song Qingre's expression, hoping to see her happy. Song Qingre held the phone and watched the content, lips curling slightly, laughter in her eyes.

"Now you know... I mean, I'm pretty good to you, right? I don't believe Fu Ye anymore."

"I know." Song Qingre looked at her. Maybe because she'd been sick, her eyes had been hazy all day, but now they were clearly bright. Yan Qingqiu felt a strong sense of accomplishment.

The sounds of wailing were crisp from the phone, occasionally punctuated by Yan Qingqiu's own laughter—she'd been enjoying herself while filming too.

Yan Qingqiu went back and found a few more videos to show her. "See how lively it is? Isn't it fun?"

The funeral procession people were crying and making a scene at the Fu Group. They were all old men and women, and the Fu people didn't dare lay a hand on them. Even calling the police wasn't an easy option—who knew if it was Fu Zhenguo's mistress or some woman Fu Ye had hooked up with making a fuss? Either way, it was a massive loss of face.

Song Qingre held the phone and nodded. "Very funny."

"Then smile," Yan Qingqiu said.

A light rain fell outside. Song Qingre curved her lips slightly, sitting in the rattan chair on the balcony, smiling at her. Everything became so gentle.

"Satisfied?" Yan Qingqiu smiled at her. She loved this scene—it felt warm, like a movie.

Song Qingre was silent for a second, then nodded and said, "Satisfied."

Her gaze was so earnest that Yan Qingqiu felt like she'd done something amazing.

"Come sit inside. It's cold on the balcony." Yan Qingqiu turned away, not daring to look at Song Qingre, afraid she might jump up.

"Can I call Fu Ye and brag?" Song Qingre asked from behind her, stepping inside and closing the balcony door, shutting out the biting wind. The room grew much warmer.

"Ah..." Yan Qingqiu had never heard such a request before. She was a bit stunned. It was a simple enough condition—she could certainly allow it. Yan Qingqiu nodded. "Mm, sure."

Song Qingre walked back to the little table on the balcony, picked up her own phone, then stood on the threshold between balcony and indoors and made a call. The first attempt wasn't answered. She looked at Yan Qingqiu, a little disappointed, and Yan Qingqiu almost wanted to call Fu Ye for her.

"It's fine. Calling later is the same." Truth was, she also wanted to hear how Song Qingre would brag. She was someone who couldn't stand praise—a few nice words and she'd be buzzing, eager to do something.

Song Qingre nodded again, picked up a strawberry, and bit into the red tip. It was inexplicably suggestive, and Yan Qingqiu's neck grew warm.

She suddenly remembered Song Qingre had a cold and probably shouldn't eat too many strawberries. Just as she was about to clean up, she heard the phone buzz. Song Qingre answered. Before she could speak, the voice on the other end exploded: "Did you do what happened today? Qiuqiu said it wasn't her, and no one else would do it. I thought about it again and again—there's no one else but you."

Yan Qingqiu was about to tell him not to falsely accuse anyone when Song Qingre hummed in acknowledgment, taking the blame for Yan Qingqiu. "It was me. But ask Qiuqiu if she's mad. Qiuqiu wouldn't be mad at all."

"You..."

Song Qingre sat on the edge of the bed, looking at Yan Qingqiu as she spoke, as if thanking her, which flustered Yan Qingqiu completely. Song Qingre continued: "Qiuqiu is very good to me. Whatever I want, she buys it for me. Today I said I wanted strawberries, and she bought me strawberries. She heard someone was causing trouble at your company, and she immediately went to watch and record it for me."

Fu Ye cursed on the other end, completely impotent with rage. "You're shameless."

Song Qingre looked at Yan Qingqiu. Yan Qingqiu wanted to laugh hearing Fu Ye's voice, and she several times wanted to curse back at him, but Song Qingre kept retorting for her: "Qiuqiu doesn't like you anymore. You have no chance."

"Really?" Fu Ye refused to give up. "Do you have a chance? Don't think I don't know—the two of you have nothing between you. As long as she's not with you, not married to you, I have a chance."

Yan Qingqiu scoffed and muttered, "Idiot."

Song Qingre blinked at her. "Hang up?"

Yan Qingqiu nodded. Song Qingre hung up. After bragging, her mood had clearly improved considerably.

Yan Qingqiu stared at her. She was always smiling. She didn't know if Song Qingre was satisfied, but Yan Qingqiu herself was—she'd finally done what she wanted. Face-slapping, satisfying!

Yan Qingqiu had no idea what expression she was making, but she felt strange herself, ears burning. "Mmhm. I'll go grab something outside."

She turned and didn't forget to remind her, "Put on more clothes. The wind's still blowing outside."

"I know."

Satisfied?

How could Song Qingre be satisfied? She'd merely ladled up a bowl of moonlight, staving off her hunger for a moment. She didn't want to just see the moon reflected in a bowl—she wanted more. She wanted the moonlight to belong entirely to her. Today, tomorrow, the day after, night after night, all hers.

She tucked her greed away and smiled at Yan Qingqiu.

"Thank you, Qiuqiu, for pampering me."

Yan Qingqiu had one trait that had never changed from childhood: she couldn't handle praise. A couple of compliments and she'd float right up.

She hummed twice.

She walked out and closed the door behind her. Song Qingre picked up her clothes to put them on, then, thinking of something, dialed another number.

The other side answered quickly. "About this matter, I plan to stoke the fire a bit more. That girl you like is really wild. Fu Ye and his father are already at odds now—each blames the other for what happened."

"That's all the info I have for now. If he marries Luo Xi, he might actually benefit from his misfortune—his power could double. But if he can't secure the Luo family, or the Luos don't want the marriage alliance, I can make a big deal out of it. Fu Ye's position in the company will definitely drop. Can Fu Zhenguo's illegitimate sons keep sitting still?"

Song Qingre's brow shifted slightly. She sensed a noise outside—Yan Qingqiu had somehow come back. She pressed the phone's volume to its minimum and changed her tone: "Mm, you have a point," her voice sinking slightly, making the hand about to knock pause.

Song Qingre faced away from the door, her figure slim. The call had come suddenly, and she hadn't yet put on more clothes. "He's too scheming. I... I'm too foolish, no scheming at all. Every time I do something shady, he sees through me. I don't want to be bullied by him like this. I want to learn to be brave like Qiuqiu... He's been going around saying he wants to find someone to punish me."

The person on the other end was taken aback. "What?"

Weren't they talking about how to ruin Fu Ye, how to bankrupt the Fu family?

"Don't say it like that. Don't be so blunt. Fine, I admit I really want to marry her. But I just think I can't force her to love me. I only want her to be happy..."

Song Qingre's tone was heavy and regretful. She shifted slightly, the wind stirring the hair by her ear, strands drifting loose in the breeze.

The person on the other end had no idea what she was saying, but Yan Qingqiu outside the door heard it all clearly.

Song Qingre sighed, her voice helpless and melancholy.

Yan Qingqiu had originally come back to cool her burning face and grab the cold medicine. She carried hot water and peered through the crack. Song Qingre pulled two small boxes from her pocket. She said rings might rust with waiting, that jewelry would gather dust and lose its luster. With lowered eyes, she ran her fingers over the boxes, helpless and wistful: "As long as we don't get married, he'll always have a chance to marry Qiuqiu... What should I do?"