Chapter 5

Yan Qingqiu sat up and checked herself over. Her skin was as fair as ever, without any extra bite marks—just sticky.

She cupped her face and rubbed it hard, too mortified to say anything.

It wouldn't have mattered if she were alone, but Song Qingre had been lying right next to her. Had Song Qingre seen everything when she got up?

So done with being human. So done.

Song Qingre yesterday...

Did they... had she actually slept with Song Qingre? How come she had no memory of it?

Yan Qingqiu took a step back to look more carefully. Her fingers landed on her neck, rubbing at it a couple of times. There was a slight bump, but little else.

She had almost no memory of yesterday. She'd slept deeply through the night.

But her muscle memory faintly told her that spot had been scorching hot yesterday—so hot it could burn.

Two Alphas, so they repelled each other... that was way too repelling.

Yan Qingqiu hurried into the bathroom for a shower. As she scrubbed, something felt off—too slippery. She grabbed clothes and put them on, then crouched on the floor, face flushed, scrubbing her underwear.

Had last night been a mutual interaction between them?

Or had she been the only one moving?

Headache.

Yan Qingqiu washed the clothes and took them to the balcony to dry, then gathered the rest to hand to the household staff for washing. "Where are Song Qingre's clothes? I didn't see them."

"Miss Song's clothes were taken out for washing early this morning. We tried to convince her to let us do it, but Miss Song was too polite," the maid said.

Yan Qingqiu pointed to the pajamas on top from yesterday. "Take these to wash, dry them, and I want to take them with me. Can it be done within half an hour?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Hurry." Yan Qingqiu urged. It was still early; she had three hours before her mission checkpoint, so there was no real rush. She called for the butler.

The butler wore his silver tailcoat today, with an extra pair of glasses on his nose. He respectfully handed Yan Qingqiu a sheet of paper. "This is what I wrote after yesterday. Just the things that stood out to me; some I can't recall at the moment."

"It has to be true. Not a single word of fabrication."

Yan Qingqiu reminded him repeatedly.

"Understood," said the butler.

Yan Qingqiu wanted to read it first, but another matter was more pressing. She pulled out her card. "My internet lagged yesterday and I entered my password wrong, which locked the card. Go get it unlocked for me."

"You'll need your ID and household register, and you have to go in person," the butler said.

"That troublesome?"

"If you're not in a hurry, I can have your allowance for this month transferred to a new card instead," said the butler.

Yan Qingqiu's eyes lit up slightly. Allowance—she'd never had an allowance before. In the real world, she was all alone, raised in an orphanage. The word "allowance" alone was enough to excite her. "Did it go up this month?"

"No, it's still one million."

"!"

One million—she was a rich woman, a sugar mama!

Yan Qingqiu let out a hum, her heart racing with excitement. "How can it be so little? The season's changing soon, and I need to buy new clothes and bags. Tell them to send more. I'll make do with this one million for now."

"Very well. I'll inform the master," the butler said.

"Drive me to see Song Qingre. First, confirm she's at the studio."

The butler went to make a call and added, "Would you like to have breakfast at home?"

Yan Qingqiu's mind turned. "Pack it up. I'll bring it to eat with her."

She'd go directly to Song Qingre, but Song Qingre might not agree to see her. If she brought breakfast, she'd surely get a chance, wouldn't she?

The staff were quick, and after twenty minutes, everything was ready. Yan Qingqiu got in the car and headed to the studio.

In the car, Yan Qingqiu unfolded the butler's note. The first read made her eyes widen slightly; the second read made them widen again.

Yan Qingqiu opened the paper once more and read it again.

【I still remember that time when snow fell heavily and plum blossoms bloomed. The young lady's cheeks were flushed red, her eyes glistening wet. Miss Song sat beside her, coaxing her with candy, but the young lady turned her head away and refused to eat.

Miss Song tried coaxing her twice more, but the young lady still wouldn't listen and, in a fit of pique, covered her ears to ignore her. The two of them sat under the plum tree, both adults now, but framed by the scenery they looked small, cheeks reddened by the wind. She took off her scarf to wrap it around the young lady, who snatched it off and threw it to the ground.

Miss Song didn't get angry. She picked up the scarf again, shook off the snowflakes, and, looking helpless, wrapped it around her once more. She gathered the young lady's frozen-red hands into her palms and rubbed them gently. "Qiuqiu, don't be like this."

The young lady ignored her, her eyes wet again.

Miss Song looked back at her.

In that vast world, in their dark pupils, all they could see was each other. The snow, the plum blossoms, the roses buried in the snow—all were just background.

It was freezing outside, and I thought to myself that the young lady had that temper, so I prepared to call them inside to talk. If they both caught cold, it would be a real loss. I walked over and was about to speak when I heard the young lady sobbing, speaking in a pitiful, aggrieved voice: "Yesterday we agreed to kiss on the lips, but today it's still the cheek, and kissing the eyes isn't fun anymore. I want to kiss on the mouth."】

Yan Qingqiu: "!"

Kissing on the lips! From the description, those two were probably sixteen or seventeen—definitely old enough to know what a lip kiss meant. And Yan Qingqiu had wanted to kiss Song Qingre on the lips, so...

And yesterday, the information she'd seen clearly showed a love triangle: Yan Qingqiu liked Fu Ye, Fu Ye liked Song Qingre.

Yan Qingqiu asked the System: 【Has the plot progressed? Is this real or fake?】

The System, always cold and expressionless, fell silent for a few seconds before saying: 【According to our system's determination, this does not count as part of the plot. As for whether it's real or fake... well, I'm not entirely sure either.】

The butler wouldn't lie, would he? He had no reason to write something like that for her to read. It couldn't be that he was so into shipping the couple that he'd lost his mind and made things up, right?

Yan Qingqiu thought about texting the butler to ask, but she didn't know where to start. After all, shouldn't she be the one who knows best whether this happened?

Besides!

The butler wrote it well, but did they actually kiss in the end?

Yan Qingqiu texted the butler: 【When I get home tonight, give me chapter two. Don't write any of that random stuff, and don't add a filter. I want the truth—the real truth.】

Butler: 【Rest assured, I only write what I've seen with my own eyes. But... didn't we agree on one chapter a day?】

Yan Qingqiu: "!"

Mistake. She should have said ten chapters a day.

Yan Qingqiu: 【It's so abrupt, with no beginning or end. Next time, write more.】

Traffic was light today, so they arrived in just over ten minutes.

Yan Qingqiu folded the paper and tucked it into her pocket. Song Qingre's studio wasn't large—currently renting one floor of an office building. She'd already looked into it: Song Qingre had majored in art abroad.

But in the painting industry, connecting with online media might earn more. If you only went the pure art route, without much money in hand, it was hard to carve out a place in the art world.

Song Qingre was one of the more famous artists in the past two years, but she lacked marketing. Her return to China for an exhibition this time was mostly to expand her network.

Yan Qingqiu didn't see any paintings on the way up. The studio looked fairly bare. She stood at the door, and an assistant-looking person invited her to sit in the reception room, saying Song Qingre was still busy and asking her to wait a moment.

Yan Qingqiu sat on the sofa and looked up to see a painting on the wall.

A plum tree and a rose twisted and tangled together, the rose's thorny vines piercing into the bark, as if stabbing through its skin. It was a winter scene, supposedly pure and flawless, yet it looked twisted and gloomy.

The assistant said, "This is our Miss Song's painting. Pretty good, isn't it?"

Yan Qingqiu stood up to get a closer look, but the System in her head chimed in: 【Host, please note: one hour remaining ≈】

Yan Qingqiu withdrew her gaze. "I need to see her right now."

··

Meanwhile, in the office, the secretary was speaking with Song Qingre. Song Qingre leaned back in her office chair, brows slightly furrowed, her mood heavy.

The secretary said, "The location for the studio is mostly settled, but we're stuck on the rent. That Mr. Fu called earlier and said he could help cover one million."

Song Qingre's red lips moved slightly, her voice ice-cold. "He's really something."

"If he were sincere, he'd just ask the landlord to lower the rent. Instead, he insists on prepaying it for us. If he pays, we'd have to repay that money."

The assistant knocked on the door. "Miss Yan is here."

Song Qingre gave a slight nod, her somber face gradually softening.

The secretary asked, "He might call later. Should we put him through?"

Song Qingre allowed a smile to surface. "Put him through."

"You mean the phone, or Miss Yan?"

"Both."

The secretary nodded.

Soon, the office door was pushed open.

In walked a woman in a black-and-white puff-sleeve dress. She carried a small pearl handbag, wore a rose pearl chain at her waist, and a black fishtail skirt swept elegantly down to cover her long legs. Her hair was tied high in a ponytail. She entered with a sort of untamed coquettishness.

Her gaze carried an innate cool arrogance as she looked at things—a noble manner that made her seem hard to provoke.

Once inside, she sat down on the sofa. She waved a hand, and the maid behind her placed the lunchbox on Song Qingre's desk.

Song Qingre leaned back in her chair. "Is something the matter?"

"Are you really that busy?" Yan Qingqiu shot back.

Song Qingre looked at the lunchbox, saw the food inside, and said, "Thank you, Qiuqiu. I've been swamped with the exhibition lately; I really don't have much free time."

The door, which had just been shut, was knocked on again. The secretary pushed it open slightly and said in a low voice, "Mr. Fu's call is on the line..."

"I thought he was helping us negotiate the price down, but he's clearly trying to use this to pressure you—get himself a good reputation while using the money to control your freedom. If we negotiated ourselves, we could at least get a few tens of thousands off, and with a bit more tightening, we could scrape the funds together..." Sheng Huajian spoke with a heavy frown. "He also said he wants to come see you this afternoon."

"See me?" Song Qingre's brow furrowed slightly. She let out a soft breath. "Let me think..."

Yan Qingqiu's brow furrowed as she stared at Song Qingre. Song Qingre sighed softly, her expression helpless. She picked up the phone, moved forward, and propped her chin on her hand. Her usually gentle demeanor now looked weary, enough to tug at one's heart.

Yan Qingqiu politely didn't interrupt her business call, but in truth, she was all ears. Ha, she just wanted to hear what this crooked-headed bastard was up to.

Fu Ye's voice came through clearly. "Do you have time to meet this afternoon? I had someone ask about the venue you mentioned. If you want to secure it, isn't your funding short?"

"Qingre, how about I pay for it for you first?"

His tone was gentle, but there was an urgent push underneath.

Song Qingre said, "No rush. I'll wait a little longer. The price is too high right now..."

"If you wait too long, someone else might snatch it up."

"Really, no rush. I'll wait. If you pay for me and I don't have the funds later, what would I use to repay you? Let's leave it here—I still have a guest. Talk later." Song Qingre set down the landline. As the receiver fell, she lifted her fingertip, blocking the hang-up that was about to complete.

"He's coming to see you with his head tilted?" Yan Qingqiu scoffed, having understood it well. Wasn't Fu Ye's move exactly what a domineering CEO would do?

When someone's in trouble, swoop in to get a piece of the action, stir up trouble behind the scenes, and play the hero on the surface. She'd bet that if Song Qingre took Fu Ye's money, she'd fall right into the trap and be at his mercy forever.

She couldn't understand why so many smart heroines instantly lost IQ points the moment they met the male lead.

Yan Qingqiu sat on the sofa across from her, lifted her skirt slightly, and asked, "How much are you short?"

"Not much." Song Qingre seemed unwilling to discuss it. She opened the lunchbox for a look, and inside were all her favorite foods. "The food's still warm. Want me to take you out to eat?"

"Tell me!"

"How much do you need?" Yan Qingqiu pressed.

Song Qingre had slender fingers. She closed the lunchbox again, propped her hands together, and pushed her fingertips back and forth over the remaining warmth until it cooled. As if hard to admit, she said, "One million."

Yan Qingqiu was taken aback. One million—that wasn't a small amount. In her original world, she'd worked herself to the bone and saved only around ten to twenty thousand.

"You're not going to sell yourself for one million, are you? Fu Ye isn't exactly a decent person."

"You can't say that. With one million, once the exhibition opens, selling a few paintings should cover the cost," Song Qingre said.

"What if they don't sell?" Yan Qingqiu blurted, then felt she was jinxing it and corrected herself. "What if Fu Ye backs out? He never keeps his word anyway."

Song Qingre raised an eyebrow. "Mm... It's not like I haven't considered that."

The secretary chimed in. "It's just that we're really short on funds right now. If we can't secure the venue and can't attract any big names, we'll lose even more. We've already lost overseas..."

"Huajian." Song Qingre cut her off sternly.

Yan Qingqiu bit her lip. "I'll give you..."

"You will?" Song Qingre frowned and shook her head. "No need. Keep it for yourself."

Yan Qingqiu pulled out her own card—the freshly transferred allowance, one million. She stood up, pressed the card onto the table, and said, "Go spend it."

She tossed it out generously, but when she turned around and no one was looking, she squeezed her eyes shut. Her heart did ache a bit—there was even a lipstick kiss mark she'd left on it.

Song Qingre's eyes clearly showed surprise. Yan Qingqiu had to get involved in this. No matter what, she couldn't let Song Qingre fall into the hands of a scumbag.

Though, she wasn't exactly a saint herself.

"What do you want in return?" Song Qingre looked at her very directly.

Yan Qingqiu thought her terms would surely be simpler than Fu Ye's.

"A million to keep me?" Song Qingre's tone was questioning.

Someone with Song Qingre's credentials could probably earn a million a year, so a million to keep her for a year probably wouldn't work. What about a million a month?

Yan Qingqiu actually did want to keep her—Song Qingre was so beautiful. She had the desire, since she never had such a chance in the real world. She mulled it over, checking Song Qingre's expression first.

Song Qingre sat in her chair, neither smiling nor frowning, her expression tranquil. There was a hint of authority without anger, yet a touch of indulgent teasing played at her brows and eyes.

Yan Qingqiu couldn't quite read what she meant.

"If I keep you, would you... you know, feel resentful, and then..." kill me!

"Mm?"

"How about I keep you for a day!" Yan Qingqiu raised her voice, suddenly bold. "My terms are simple. And besides, am I not better than him? You'll take money from some smelly man, but you won't dare take it from a sweet woman?"

Song Qingre didn't agree, and she didn't show any emotion either.

"Think it over clearly. This is your only chance," Yan Qingqiu piled on the pressure. If Song Qingre agreed, her mission would be complete.

A million was worth it to save her life.

"Tell me your terms."

Yan Qingqiu said, "If you can kiss me until I pass out, the money is yours."

"Mm?" Song Qingre raised an eyebrow slightly. "That's all?"

Her eyes were wary. "You'd spend a million just for a kiss?"

Her suspicion was justified—the two of them had never been on such good terms.

Yan Qingqiu knew it was absurd to spend a million on a mere lip kiss.

She had the desire, but she was also afraid.

Song Qingre asked, "Just a kiss on the lips? Other people go for the flesh and the soul, you know. How strange. What's your real reason? Did someone put you up to this, to set a trap for me?" Her rhetorical question made Yan Qingqiu's heart race. Song Qingre propped her chin on her hand, leaned forward slightly, and looked straight at Yan Qingqiu. "Qiuqiu, lying isn't nice."

Yan Qingqiu felt as if both her heart and soul were seen through, and it startled her.

Song Qingre was so clever.

Cough. Well, there was no choice. She'd just have to play along.

Yan Qingqiu cleared her throat and lifted her head. "Fine, you saw through me. I'll admit... I've taken a liking to you. So, fine, I'll also play with your flesh."

Song Qingre stayed silent.

Yan Qingqiu thought to herself, Cleverness backfires. Song Qingre, you're too foolish—I only wanted a lip kiss, but you just had to throw yourself in like that.

"Think it over."

Yan Qingqiu hinted, "About last night..."

Song Qingre raised a hand as if to refuse, but the secretary beside her misunderstood and immediately pocketed the card from the table. Song Qingre's brow twitched slightly, and she told the secretary to draft a contract—from now on, money and kisses would be settled together.

Then she looked at Yan Qingqiu and asked, "Start with the kiss?"

Song Qingre parted her long legs slightly, the tip of her black leather shoe tapping the ground. "Then come over, sit on my lap and kiss me. Today... I'll let you do whatever you want."

Yan Qingqiu's eyes widened a little as she looked at the secretary tidying up nearby; the secretary was equally stunned. Song Qingre could be this flirtatious?

So fast? She wasn't even ready.

Yan Qingqiu said, "There are people here! Have some decency."

"Ah... I thought you were enjoying the talk so much that you liked having an audience. Huajian, you can step out. Bring the contract in later." Song Qingre said softly, pushing the documents aside, her arm brushing against the landline from earlier.

Huajian gathered her things, her curiosity piqued. She glanced at Yan Qingqiu, and the corner of her mouth twitched.

Yan Qingqiu looked at Song Qingre's legs—shapely, long. She wore a white shirt today with black trousers beneath, straight-cut to reveal her ankles.

Yan Qingqiu stood up, then sat back down. She'd spent a million; she might as well enjoy it. She spread her long legs slightly, leaned back a little, narrowed her eyes with that unrivaled, haughty charm, and said, "Come over. Sit on my lap and kiss me."

After a moment, her gaze landed on the back of the chair behind Song Qingre, and she added, "Put on the suit jacket, look a bit more proper. You'll also need to call me 'big sister' later."

Mm, and preferably a tongue kiss.