Chapter 55

Only after she finished speaking did Yan Qingqiu realize what she'd said. She had just blurted out that she was an omega—Song Qingre should be surprised, right? She should have caught it. But what if Song Qingre was a little idiot who didn't understand anything?

Song Qingre said nothing, her hands braced on either side of Yan Qingqiu's body. They were pressed close together. Yan Qingqiu could feel how strong she was. She lifted her head and brushed her lips against Song Qingre's.

Her mouth was so sweet. When she pulled back, she couldn't help leaning in again for another taste, noticing Song Qingre's breathing go uneven. She decided to test her deliberately. "Hey, you know two alphas can mark each other too, right?"

"I know," Song Qingre said softly. "It's just hard to actually mark."

Yan Qingqiu said, "That's fine. Just mark a few more times. Once doesn't work, try again. Second time doesn't work, go for a third. Over and over, you'll eventually get it done."

She stuck out her tongue. "Put a cherry on it, and I'll show you."

When Yan Qingqiu got flirtatious, there was no limit to her. Song Qingre hummed in response and went to hook her tongue.

Their lips brushed against each other again and again.

Yan Qingqiu was kissed weak, and she reached out to push her away—but she couldn't push her off.

Yan Qingqiu thought to herself: You little idiot. I'm actually an omega. When I finally tell you, won't it give you a shock. It'll be so exciting it kills you.

Saying it now would be boring. No, she'd wait until they were in bed, biting Song Qingre's ear and whispering...

"I'll mark you."

Yan Qingqiu was laying down a precaution. Her eyes were slightly red, her lips swollen from kissing. She squinted as she accepted the kisses, giving Song Qingre a taste of sweetness first. Then she'd have her way with Song Qingre first, and whisper in her ear: I'm an omega.

She couldn't hold it in anymore. She hurried to finish this kiss, then get to the hotel. She looped her arms around Song Qingre's neck, trying to leave a hickey. Too bad work was already over for the day—otherwise she could have sent her to the office with a mark.

After one round of kissing, Yan Qingqiu was like a hostage tied to the couch, utterly spent. But she was stubborn, and watching Song Qingre catch her breath, she opened her mouth and threw all pretense to the wind. "With stamina like yours, I'll fuck you once and you'll be done for."

While Song Qingre was silent, Yan Qingqiu's fingers slid between Song Qingre's, tracing the gaps slowly, deliberately tickling her.

Song Qingre's hair was up in a bun today too, her face especially clean and bright. Her eyes shifted slightly as she adjusted her body, and the leather seat let out a soft creak.

Yan Qingqiu shifted with her, lifting herself up to press a kiss to her cheek. Afterward, she popped another cherry into her own mouth, chewing as she stared at Song Qingre without dropping her gaze. The implication was so thick it might as well have been written on her face: "I want to mark you."

She ate three cherries while Song Qingre pulled out her phone and began looking up hotels. Yan Qingqiu stopped teasing, leaning back in her seat. Song Qingre asked her, "Who bullied you at the company today?"

She chose her words carefully, saying "who"—demanding a name.

Yan Qingqiu said, "It was a vibe. The feeling of being treated coldly."

She'd experienced that kind of atmosphere before, a long time ago. Back in middle school, she'd stood out because of her golden hair, and a lot of people pursued her. Many classmates called her promiscuous and deliberately mocked and cold-shouldered her.

Back then, Yan Qingqiu hadn't been particularly attached to the people around her, so she didn't feel it too deeply; when it got annoying, she'd curse them out. But she could tell it was a kind of school bullying.

"Speaking of which, there's one thing I don't get." Yan Qingqiu's thoughts scattered quickly, jumping from one question to another in an instant. "When I was little—elementary school—I also had blonde hair. The teachers never said anything about it; they even found it interesting. But by middle school and high school, every teacher who saw me told me to dye it black."

Yan Qingqiu didn't know whether "she" had encountered that in this world. In her own world, there were always people gossiping about her hair. She wished she could stick a note on her back: "Born this way, thanks. Stop acting like you've never seen the world."

"Because once a person leaves the identity of a child, they need a systematic set of rules to measure themselves by. That measure is usually imposed by others. If you accept it, you'll become that kind of person too. If you don't, you can break that fixed mold."

Yan Qingqiu thought about it. "Then I didn't accept the mold this world forced on me." In this world or that one. Whether she was the female lead or not, she had her own convictions.

In that world, she never dyed her hair. Every time the discipline director checked and grumbled that she should dye it black, she would ask, "Then what about the hair that grows out? Half blonde, half black? Wouldn't that make me even more of an oddball? It's not like I'm entering some uniform beauty pageant. I should dye my hair just because you said so? Which of us has the problem here? Who's discriminating against whom?"

The discipline director tried to say more, and she cut her off. "You don't like it? Call the police. Have me arrested, strip out my genes, and I'll become a black-haired woman from now on. Oh, and when you go gray, what are you going to do about that?"

Anyway, her middle school memories were fuzzy, but the sight of that woman being rendered speechless was vivid enough to stay with her.

"Song Qingre, being with you really makes me happy," she said with a sigh.

Song Qingre's brows curved softly, a smile tugging at her lips. She started the car, driving at an easy pace, and her tone was gentle. "Good. I thought I'd become boring lately."

"How could you be?" Yan Qingqiu thought: You're actually pretty interesting—especially when it comes to tricking me.

After a few cherries, Yan Qingqiu put the box back, wiped her mouth with a tissue. Kissing with a cherry in your mouth was thrilling, since the cherry rolling around was pure tongue-teasing. She loved that slippery, mingling feeling.

She licked the corner of her mouth and checked the navigation.

Song Qingre had picked the nearest five-star hotel, driving unhurriedly—not frantic at all. They arrived quickly.

Inside, she asked Yan Qingqiu, "Did you bring your ID?"

Yan Qingqiu had come out with just herself; her ID was still in her bag.

"Ah, what do we do..." Yan Qingqiu asked, assuming Song Qingre hadn't brought hers either.

"I did." Song Qingre pulled her bank card and ID out of her pocket. She pinched the card, leaned down, and whispered in Yan Qingqiu's ear, "So... you were planning to come to the hotel, but didn't think to bring your ID."

Yan Qingqiu had thought she was being super bold, walking in all excited. Now her face flushed with embarrassment, and she shoved at Song Qingre, glaring at her as hard as she could.

Song Qingre turned to check in at the front desk. Yan Qingqiu didn't follow, watching her back and cursing this wicked woman internally. The lobby was busy—several foreigners were dragging suitcases inside.

Oh. She wasn't the only one here.

When she realized there were other people around, the shame hit her all at once.

Everyone else was here openly. Only she was sneaking around, testing things out before marriage with Song Qingre.

So wild. And she was the one who'd suggested it.

So slutty. Slutty enough to smoke.

Shame spread from her toes to every strand of hair. She kept her head down, only her shadow visible on the floor—not her burning face.

Song Qingre finished the paperwork quickly, returning with a black-gold card. She gave Yan Qingqiu a little wave, signaling she could follow. Yan Qingqiu scurried over, even more embarrassed, and whispered, "Why... why do you have to be so blatant? What if someone sees us?"

Song Qingre didn't answer, every move carrying a hint of showing off.

Yan Qingqiu justified it to herself: This is what makes it exciting. You have to be secretive—that's what makes it thrill.

They got in the elevator with another guest whose luggage the bellhop was carrying, while the two of them went in empty-handed.

Song Qingre pulled Yan Qingqiu close. On the upper floor, she led her down the hallway, pressed the card against the lock, and pushed the door open directly. Yan Qingqiu stepped in first, and Song Qingre shut the door behind them. It was still broad daylight, and the room was far too bright.

Yan Qingqiu walked a step or two into the room. She seemed like she didn't quite know what to do, yet like she knew everything. She turned to see Song Qingre, and they stared at each other in silence. Following her natural instinct, she looped her arms around Song Qingre's neck. "Carry me to the bath."

"Together, or should I just help you?"

"Together." Yan Qingqiu scratched playfully under her chin, then traced the weave of her sweater collar. Song Qingre's clothes were smooth, and Yan Qingqiu's fingertips enjoyed the touch.

Yan Qingqiu stepped forward, closing the gap until they were pressed together. Song Qingre kept one finger's width of distance at first.

Song Qingre reached for the zipper on Yan Qingqiu's clothes. "Let's take these off first, or I won't be able to carry you. You're wearing too much."

Song Qingre wasn't a strongman, and Yan Qingqiu understood—she started helping Song Qingre out of hers too.

Song Qingre moved slowly, deliberately. Yan Qingqiu could barely stand it. "Let me wait until the heating kicks in," Song Qingre said.

"Okay." Song Qingre even checked the room for any cameras, and once she confirmed it was safe, their clothes fell to the floor. Yan Qingqiu instinctively moved to cover herself, but Song Qingre took her hand and led her into the bathroom.

She didn't let Song Qingre carry her—if she fell, there'd be no fun at all.

Song Qingre stepped closer. The contact of skin against skin was different—a soft approach, like a finger breaking the surface of water. Yan Qingqiu teased her a few times, hooking her shoulder as she lifted herself slightly, trying to pull them even closer.

She touched Song Qingre's lips again, and Song Qingre gently rested a hand on her waist. They kissed warmly, unhurriedly—nothing like the frantic pace before.

Steam rose and filled the room, everything hazy and unreal. Song Qingre turned on the shower, and hot water ran over their bodies as they savored the sweet tenderness of the moment.

They parted slightly, but their gazes stayed locked. Song Qingre slowly crouched down, kissing Yan Qingqiu's jaw first, then trailing down to her scar.

Yan Qingqiu loved touching that scar, wanted to soothe it. Song Qingre closed her eyes. Yan Qingqiu knew it wasn't pain she felt—a wound that's lost its pain becomes pain, accumulating over time into an ugly scar.

She gently traced the ridged lines of the scar.

She didn't ask if it hurt. She only asked if she wanted to be cherished.

She wanted the closest intimacy with her, to warm that wound. It was a crime to leave a scar on an artist's body—she wished she could tear that person apart. Song Qingre's fingers settled on her head. "It doesn't hurt anymore. Qingqiu, kiss me."

"Mm."

Yan Qingqiu kissed her, kissed her until she was happy, so that from now on, when she remembered that scar, all her body and heart would remember was overwhelming pleasure.

Song Qingre's neck tilted up slightly, her delicate collarbones curving smoothly.

They washed thoroughly, taking care of each other.

Reluctantly apart, they emerged. Yan Qingqiu's hair was still dripping, and she wrung it out briefly before wiping her fingers on a tissue. The room was warm, and she didn't want to waste time with a towel or bathrobe.

She sat directly on the bed and crooked a finger at Song Qingre, completely unashamed. "How do you do the marking? I don't know how... but I can try."

Song Qingre hummed in acknowledgment.

She sat on the edge of the bed and started blow-drying Yan Qingqiu's hair. Yan Qingqiu's throat went dry, her fingers drawing circles on Song Qingre's chest, and she leaned in to kiss her.

Song Qingre warned her, "Don't bite."

"Mm." Yan Qingqiu chewed without biting.

When her hair was dry, Song Qingre set the dryer aside. "Should I teach you first, and then you practice?"

That sounded perfectly reasonable. Yan Qingqiu didn't see any problem with it—she really didn't know. She lay down obediently, her cheek pressed into the pillow. Song Qingre's fingers found the back of her neck.

Now wasn't the time to be coy. If she didn't know, she'd follow along. Nothing to be ashamed of. Yan Qingqiu couldn't suppress a soft moan, her fingers gripping the corner of the pillow. "Teach me slowly."

"Okay."

Song Qingre pressed a kiss to the back of her neck.

"Can you mark it?"

Her hot breath fell on Yan Qingqiu's neck, tickling.

Song Qingre gently grazed her gland, and Yan Qingqiu instinctively buried her face deeper into the pillow. It hurt, a dull ache. Song Qingre stopped and asked, "Does it hurt?"

"Mm..."

"Because Qingqiu hasn't reached her heat yet. Biting your gland now would be like biting a piece of flesh off you—it would only hurt."

Yan Qingqiu felt uncomfortable, letting out low, muffled sounds. "Can't it come early?"

"Probably... not." Song Qingre lifted her head. Yan Qingqiu's face was flushed red as she looked at her, and Song Qingre said, "If we can't mark it... then we mark it over and over. Once doesn't work, try again. Second time doesn't work, go for a third..."

"No, no, no—I was just saying that! You'd ruin my gland. And, um, I should tell you a secret." Yan Qingqiu turned and grabbed her shoulder, then, seeing Song Qingre still watching her, raised a hand to cover her own eyes. She couldn't bear to look. "I'm actually an omega. I went through secondary differentiation. You need to be gentle with me."

She didn't hear Song Qingre answer, just a soft hum. She tilted her chin up; Song Qingre was slowly testing, and the gland at the back of her neck had already changed, secreting sweet pheromones. Song Qingre took a taste and said, "I know. Your omega traits are very obvious."

"You knew all along?" She bit her lip.

Song Qingre didn't lie. She nodded. "Mm... and I've fantasized about it for a long time." Her breathing grew quick. "Since you've said that... I'm going to get rough." She gave up on the gland behind her and flipped Yan Qingqiu over.

Yan Qingqiu looked at her face, then looked further down, her cheeks burning. "I can't relax."

Song Qingre's lips descended, and Yan Qingqiu was still tense. Song Qingre noticed and said, "I see... Qingqiu is very nervous."

··

They'd come in daylight; without realizing, it went from five in the afternoon past midnight. Outside, the night was dark and silent, but in her ears she could hear faint commotion.

Yan Qingqiu breathed out, her voice feather-light. "You act like you've never seen an omega before."

Song Qingre reached over and switched on the light, bright rays falling down. "I really haven't," Song Qingre said.

Yan Qingqiu squinted against the glare, and Song Qingre watched her, long hair falling and brushing her shoulder. Slowly, Yan Qingqiu opened her eyes.

"Qingqiu, call me 'big sister'?"

Yan Qingqiu refused, so Song Qingre coaxed her: "Qingqiu is the most beautiful omega in the world..."

Yan Qingqiu was so moved she couldn't help crying.

It was embarrassing to admit—she could have gone home the next day, but her curiosity burned too strongly. She refused to leave, like she'd opened the door to a whole new world. She figured Song Qingre had seen enough of omegas, but she hadn't seen enough of alphas.

When night passed, the two of them hadn't done anything too excessive—they were just utterly shameless. The omega clung to the alpha without inhibition, nuzzling her neck. "Let me see you too, good big sister, Little Re big sister."

She called out random names, all clingy and sweet, so they extended the room to the next night. When they finally left, Yan Qingqiu felt reluctant.

She knelt on the bed to fasten Song Qingre's back clasp, kissing and nibbling her shoulder, wrapping her arms around her from behind to trace her collarbone. "Next time we come back, we'll bring a change of clothes." If not for the lack of spare clothes, she wouldn't leave at all.

Sigh.

Yan Qingqiu thought: A person still needs some dignity.

On the way home, her mind was hazy, replaying last night's events.

She reached for the water in the back seat out of habit, then unwrapped a lollipop. She popped it in her mouth, the sugar sweet on her tongue—as sweet as Song Qingre.

She really liked it.

Too bad they hadn't managed the mark. A pity.

She played on her phone, humming and murmuring—random at first, then lapsing into a song, clearly in high spirits.

Without the System in her head, she was overjoyed. She said again, "Next time we'll come back."

"We could try at home."

"Okay." Yan Qingqiu was genuinely happy. You couldn't limit yourself to one place. She was so good at this. What was the male lead compared to this? Female lead and female supporting character were meant to be a perfect match. They were both women—they could do whatever they wanted, and they were completely unrestrained.

··

Back home, she showered first. They'd thought about showering together, but worried things might get out of hand—they didn't know how to restrain themselves. If the family found out, it would be a little embarrassing.

So they held back.

Song Qingre sat on the sofa, picking up an apple from the table and peeling it. Yan Qingqiu, in loose, thick pajamas, lounged on the couch, touching the back of her neck. It still hurt a bit. Damn it. Why couldn't they mark it?

Song Qingre said, "Marking happens during heat—temporary and permanent marks. That way it's much more comfortable, it won't affect the alpha, and an omega is relatively safer."

"Damn, why didn't I know that before?" Yan Qingqiu deeply regretted it. If she'd known, she'd have gotten properly tangled up with Song Qingre back then and done some temporary marking.

Before, she'd been too timid. Not wild enough.

I'm such an innocent girl, tsk tsk.

Yan Qingqiu thought it over—she couldn't regret it too much. At the time, she hadn't been attracted to Song Qingre, and she still couldn't manage a one-night stand. That was too challenging for her.

Yan Qingqiu said seriously, "From now on, we'll test out love once a day, and by the time my heat comes, we'll be able to mark immediately."

She paused after speaking, realizing how... that sounded.

She immediately slapped her own mouth.

Song Qingre caught her hand, not letting her hit herself again.

By the time they got home, it was almost dinner. Yan Fu still wasn't back. Yan Qingqiu lay on the sofa for a while, then looked over at Song Qingre, who was watching TV beside her. Slowly, she inched closer.

Song Qingre smelled faintly sweet, like she'd been coated in a thin layer of crispy milk chocolate. Yan Qingqiu always wanted to sink her teeth into this little tangerine.

She got bold, moving over to rest her head directly on Song Qingre's thigh. Song Qingre handed her the peeled apple. "How are you so sweet? Did I accidentally mark you?"

Song Qingre asked, "Do you know what your own pheromone smells like?"

Yan Qingqiu shook her head. She had never checked. She sniffed herself but couldn't detect anything. "Can you tell?" she asked Song Qingre.

"I can, but I can't pinpoint an exact scent. You've undergone secondary differentiation, so you should have a compound fragrance. I smell it in wisps, different every time, but always sweet. A compound fragrance is complex and has many notes. Usually, when people talk about a pheromone scent, they mean the one your nose can pick out—the main note is your pheromone's scent. Strictly speaking, a compound has many components."

"No wonder. Sometimes I smell jasmine on Xing Xing, and sometimes a faint honeysuckle."

She turned to Song Qingre and said, "So you're just a simple citrus scent? Not a compound? Are you a low-rank alpha?"

That came out too bluntly, and she feared she'd hurt Song Qingre's pride. Whether alpha or omega, everyone wanted to be high-ranked.

Song Qingre went with it, saying, "Mm. My rank isn't very high."

"Then how's your mental strength? Alphas all have mental strength, right?" As she chatted, Yan Qingqiu reached up to touch her face. She was still riled up from that run-in with Fu Sang. Whether Fu Sang was a good person or not, putting hands on Song Qingre was wrong. Just thinking about it made her angry. She really hated Fu Sang!

"My mental strength is decent," Song Qingre said.

"Is an alpha's mental strength like a deterrent? I read online that it's like a lion or something—like a tiger. What's yours?"

"Mine isn't an animal," Song Qingre said. "It's more like a kind of artistic space."

Yan Qingqiu felt she'd said something wrong again. According to the standard game setup, the male and female leads were always the highest-ranked; everyone else couldn't outshine them, so their stats would be average. The villainess had to be worse than the heroine in every way, then get jealous and scheme against her.

Yan Qingqiu comforted her. "It's fine. A little A-rank is cute too. Or..." She lowered her voice. "Or next time, maybe I mark you instead."

Song Qingre pressed her lips together, barely holding back a laugh. She looked at Yan Qingqiu tenderly and said softly, "You can't help getting naughty again."

Yan Qingqiu lay back down, grabbing the remote and flipping through several channels before settling on a cartoon.

After one episode, the apple in her hand was gone. Sure enough, Yan Qingqiu discovered her own talent: she was born to be a useless slacker. Being with Song Qingre was so comfortable.

She closed her eyes to sleep. "Hey, find a way to sneak my household register out."

"Are we only trying things before marriage for one day?" Song Qingre asked.

Yan Qingqiu looked up and shot her a glare. "Even if you get it, we can't get married until the day after tomorrow! It's Thursday! We still have three days to try, and then... wedding night. Don't you like it?"

"Makes sense."

"Besides, you can't necessarily get it by tomorrow."

Song Qingre nodded in agreement, admitting it outright. "Mm. I'm pretty useless."

"...I wouldn't say that." Yan Qingqiu closed her eyes immediately after speaking. She couldn't elaborate. Her mind kept playing back that day—if she hadn't been so stubborn, she would have begged her to stop.

She felt pretty good, her cheeks warming. "Don't keep asking me if it's okay."

"I..." Song Qingre thought she hadn't asked anything. She looked at Yan Qingqiu's eyes, which were shut, only a sliver of a gap left to peek at her.

Song Qingre said, "I'm just worried you're in pain. If it's swollen..." She lowered her voice so no one else could hear, concerned. "Are you really fine?"

"I'm naturally gifted," Yan Qingqiu said, her cheeks hot.

"...Mm. A high-rank omega is extraordinary."

This alpha was shameless, seizing every chance to be cheeky and tease her.

Yan Qingqiu couldn't be bothered to deal with her. She was slipping into naughtiness herself. She squeezed closer, pressing against Song Qingre's stomach to sleep, her gaze warm and soft. She slipped her hand under Song Qingre's clothes inch by inch. "Let me warm up."

Song Qingre hissed—her fingers were cold. She turned her head and gave the butler at the door a look. The butler set down his feather duster, fetched a blanket, and laid it over Yan Qingqiu, who fell asleep quickly.

"She looks just like when she was little," the butler said, standing by, his eyes softening too.

Song Qingre hummed in agreement, finally ruffling her hair. "Yeah. She must have been wronged."

Yan Qingqiu heard it clearly, and she thought: So you knew all along. So you understand me that well, Song Xiaore... You're wonderful.

She hugged Song Qingre's waist, nuzzling against her.

Heart flutters +1, heart flutters +2, heart flutters +++

Later, Yan Fu came back. He glanced at Yan Qingqiu passed out on the couch and asked, "Why is she sleeping here?"

"She's been busy with work these past few days. She's exhausted."

Yan Fu smiled. "Did she drool?"

Standing nearby, he said, "In the past, when I got home from work, I'd always find her asleep in the living room, waiting for me. No matter how many times I told the butler to carry her to her room, she'd come running back down, insisting on waiting for me to come home. She'd say Daddy works hard, and it would be too pitiful if no one was there to keep him company."

"Should we wake Miss for dinner?" the butler asked.

Yan Fu nodded. "She should eat a little. If she sleeps on an empty stomach, she'll wake up hungry in the middle of the night."

At that, Song Qingre patted Yan Qingqiu's shoulder. Yan Qingqiu blinked awake, hair mussed, staring blankly at the people around her like she hadn't slept well. She blinked a few more times, mumbling incoherently, words tumbling over each other.

"Get up and have some soup before you go back to sleep." Yan Fu had the maid set the table, then brought over a bowl of soup he'd ladled out, handing it to her.

Yan Qingqiu cleared her throat, sat up on the sofa, and drank. She was worried about making a mess and murmured, "What if I spill on the sofa?"

"Let them wash it."

She paused, then asked in a small voice, "What day is it today?"

"Thursday. Why?"

"Do I have class tomorrow?" Yan Qingqiu said. "I don't think I did my homework."

Yan Fu paused, then smiled. "Silly girl."

"How old are you, still talking about homework?"

Yan Qingqiu's mind was fuzzy, still not fully awake.

Yan Fu asked, "How old were you in your dream?"

"Mm... I think I was pretty old."

"Was Little Re in the dream?" Yan Fu asked.

"Yes. There was someone talking in my head." Her head throbbed slightly. Yan Qingqiu was groggy, just assuming she hadn't slept enough. "It said I was some..." There was a word she couldn't say. "It said if I didn't obey, it would send me away. I said no, I won't obey, annoy them to death, and then I got sent away—to some place."

Yan Fu didn't follow. "A nightmare? What place? Was I and Little Re not there?"

Yan Qingqiu nodded. It seemed so.

"It's a nightmare. Don't believe it, sweetheart," Yan Fu said seriously.

Song Qingre came out of the room holding a bowl and chopsticks, eyes narrowed as she watched her. Her movements had slowed noticeably. Yan Fu kept comforting her, saying, "Dad and Little Re, and Uncle Dong, will always be here with you. If you can't finish it, then don't."

Yan Qingqiu still managed a few sips of soup. Uncle Dong came over to take the bowl, had the maid wipe her mouth, and she leaned against the sofa to sleep again.

After eating a little, Song Qingre came over and helped Yan Qingqiu up. "I'll take you back to your room."

Yan Qingqiu nodded, got up, and took Song Qingre's hand, stumbling after her. She was too sleepy to walk straight. In the room, Song Qingre washed her face with water and helped her gargle, and slowly Yan Qingqiu came around. She rubbed her temples, thinking about what she'd just said, and frowned. Why did it feel like a nightmare?

Twenty-four years of experiences—so clear.

Could those twenty-four years have been fabricated?

She thought about it, then saw Song Qingre come over. She tugged at her, asking her to sleep with her. Just seeing her improved her mood.

"Stay with me tonight."

"Okay..." Song Qingre shed her jacket and slipped into the covers beside her. She patted her leg. "If you're scared, lie on my lap."

"I'm not scared." Yan Qingqiu lay down, rubbing against her gently. She thought: Why am I acting like a little puppy?

·

The next day, Yan Qingqiu openly dragged Song Qingre to her company, making her come along to work—denying the System any chance to activate. Worried about holding up Song Qingre's work, she thoughtfully went by Song Qingre's studio first to let her grab some equipment for the office. She'd meant to tell Su Xingjie about it.

But Su Xingjie was busy, currently negotiating Fu Sang's contract termination. Fu Sang had a lot of endorsements, so it wasn't easy to cut ties. Su Xingjie didn't care about any of that—after one statement, she'd sentenced her. She'd sooner give up her director position than let someone who'd tried to let Fu Ye bully Yan Qingqiu anywhere near her.

Yan Qingqiu sat at her desk and had her assistant serve Song Qingre tea. Song Qingre powered on her laptop and started reading something. Yan Qingqiu propped her chin on her hand, watching her fingers.

Song Qingre took out her phone and called Yan Fu. Yan Qingqiu immediately got up from her desk and sat on the sofa right beside her. Song Qingre said, "Uncle, I'd like to store something with you soon."

"What is it?" Yan Fu asked.

"It's what my parents left me before they passed. I took it all abroad before. Last time I thought about moving back into that house, I'd store it properly. But now I'm with Qingqiu every day and I'm not going back there. I'm afraid it'll get stolen if I leave it at the house."

Yan Fu understood immediately.

"It'd be best to put it in a safe. I checked with the bank—they can store it, but they need too many documents, and it's not very secure. If I were to open a..."

"I have a safe. Right here at home. Is it bulky? I can store small items for you," Yan Fu offered generously.

Song Qingre's tone grew slightly deeper. "It's the ring my father gave my mother—passed down for generations in his family—along with the title deeds to a few wineries my father left me abroad."

"That works. In my safe, I've only got Qingqiu's household register. Nothing else."

"Mm, why would you keep her household register in a safe? Worried Qingqiu might marry Fu Ye?" Song Qingre chuckled lightly. "Then forget it, Uncle—don't store it. I have a lot to put in; if we're opening and closing it all the time, and Qingqiu accidentally grabs her own register... I'm weak-eared. If she begs me, I'd just hand it over..."

Yan Qingqiu felt like she was being sexually charmed. She ducked her head, fingers tapping aimlessly at her phone screen.

"It's fine, keep it together. I'll give you the passcode; I feel better with you watching it anyway." Yan Fu chuckled, then added, "As long as you tell me when you two get married, I'll consider giving the register to Qingqiu. Otherwise, I definitely won't rest easy. Anyway, the chance is yours. If you hand it over casually and she marries you, everything's fine. But if she runs off to marry someone else—Little Re, then I can't help you there. I still hope you two get married."

Song Qingre thanked him and chatted with Yan Fu for a while longer. She turned to look at Yan Qingqiu, who was stunned, mouth agape.

Yan Qingqiu didn't know what to say. God, god—how was this woman so clever?

Just like that, the register was in hand.

And she'd... directly held her household register in her hands?

She wandered over to see what Song Qingre was doing. The screen was on "International Express," showing that the shipment had been sent out.

Song Qingre calmly scrolled, then looked at Yan Qingqiu. "What?"

"You—you're too fast! Yesterday, the day before—you didn't even know what to do yet!"

Song Qingre corrected her. "Yesterday and the day before, I was busy sleeping with you, wasn't I? I came up with the idea the day before that—the night you mentioned marriage. I stayed up all night thinking. I didn't tell you yesterday because the package hadn't shipped yet, and I wasn't sure it would work."

"..."

Yan Qingqiu thought: This woman is so scheming!

"You don't like it when I'm fast? Then I'll slow down. Pick a date and we'll go get the certificate." She opened the calendar, then said slowly, "Hesitating about marriage means you have a problem."