Chapter 58

Yan Qingqiu reached the hotel room and locked the door behind her. She was so anxious she could barely stand still, biting her fingers as she paced back and forth.

She searched the room thoroughly—turning things over on top, then checking under the bed.

She found three knives: a fruit knife, a nail clipper, and a Swiss Army knife from the kitchen set.

Looking at the blades, they seemed sharp, with what appeared to be traces of blood on them. Yan Qingqiu's fingers loosened, and the knife clattered to the floor with a loud thud.

She kicked the knife away a little.

The System finally spoke up: 【Scared?】

Yan Qingqiu let out two hollow laughs: 【Look at me from head to toe—where do I look scared? It's just cutting out a gland. As long as I'm fast with the knife, no one can catch me.】

【I close my eyes, cut the gland, and from then on, they'll call me in the underworld: Yan the Cutter.】

The System: 【You're quite the optimist.】

Yan Qingqiu: 【Well, I can't just burst into tears and admit I'm scared, can I? Honestly, System, your thinking is too narrow-minded. Let's make a deal.】

The System: 【You're still in the mood to negotiate with me? You're pretty bold.】

Yan Qingqiu smiled and sat on the bed, crossing her legs. A person's mindset had to be broad. Her legs might be trembling, but her words had to be tough—she had to let the System know she never backed down.

She said: 【I know your game isn't playing straight. You want me and Fu Ye to mess around, but you must be doing it for a reason, right? It can't be for world peace—that I'd hook up with him to save the world.】

The System: 【You're right. In a sense, it could save the world.】

Yan Qingqiu made a mental note. So if she didn't get marked by Fu Ye, would the world be destroyed?

Yan Qingqiu wanted to pry for more information, but she was afraid that if she said the wrong thing, she'd give herself away. She pulled out her phone, went straight to her photo album, and tapped on someone's picture.

The System glanced at it and panicked: 【Who are you trying to scare?!】

Yan Qingqiu ignored it and kept looking at Song Qingre's photo, thinking about how she needed to protect her well. As she thought, her mind began to open up.

The real-world game might have crashed—that was a server issue.

But the game world itself didn't have any problems, right? Maybe the System was afraid of losing control over the world!

I'm so smart.

Keep looking, keep looking!

Yan Qingqiu continued to stare at the photos. The woman in them was beautiful no matter how she looked at it. She clicked her tongue—Song Qingre was truly a good woman. Not only was she easy on the eyes, but she could also ward off evil spirits. She said: 【If the world collapses, do you kick the bucket?】

The System was silent for a long time.

If the server crashed, how could the System survive?

She felt like she'd found the System's weak spot.

Yan Qingqiu said: 【You don't want to die, I don't want to die, and I don't want Song Qingre to die either.】

The System didn't respond.

Yan Qingqiu said: 【I guarantee you won't die, and you guarantee Song Qingre and I won't die. Whatever steamy scenes you want, I'll perform top-tier versions for you every day. If you want me standing, I won't lie down—I'll stand and give you a show! Three hundred sixty-five degrees, no blind spots. How's that for exciting? Don't you want to see it? Your lewd game should be looking forward to that, right?】

The System: 【You really don't fear death even when it's staring you in the face. If your legs weren't trembling the whole time, I might actually believe you.】

Yan Qingqiu pressed her hands on her thighs—one hand wasn't enough, so she used both: 【They're not trembling now. Believe me?】

The System: 【Heh.】

Yan Qingqiu said: 【According to the plot, the male and female leads are usually the victors.】

The System: 【Female leads and villains never get a good ending!】

"!!!!"

It admitted it! It admitted it!

Holy crap!

【She's a villain!!!!!!】

Yan Qingqiu was stunned by her own cleverness. Song Qingre was a villain. She hadn't dared to guess before—she'd thought about it, but she was too scared to actually believe it, so she'd coyly guessed Song Qingre was a vicious supporting female character. Turns out she really was a villain!

The System had been misleading her from the start.

Yan Qingqiu felt a surge of excitement. She'd actually managed to trick it into revealing the truth.

The System fell silent, like it had bitten its tongue, whimpering without being able to let out a sound. Yan Qingqiu pounded the bed. Damn! Villains were awesome!

No wonder the System had been targeting Song Qingre and speaking ill of her.

But why was Song Qingre a villain, and why had the System tied them together with those questions from the start?

No, those questions were actually quite clever.

The first question was about catching a cheater. They'd given her a fill-in-the-blank question. A normal person would fill in: beat the mistress senseless, strip her naked, and parade her around.

The second question—she'd been wild at the time and had accidentally chosen the trope, refusing to bow to the mistress and directly opting to cut out her gland.

The third question was about choosing a persona, and it had already censored itself.

The questions after that were all censored, so she had no idea how wild the content was. If the System started spouting nonsense, wouldn't she have to follow the plot?

Yan Qingqiu tested the waters: 【Is it because I...】 resemble Miss Yan, or because Miss Yan resembles me, that you dragged me in here?

She couldn't ask that directly—she'd definitely be suspected, and her memories would be wiped again.

Yan Qingqiu skipped that topic: 【Hurry up and give me plot points! I've already figured out the villain identity!】

The System let out a snort, sounding like it was grinding its teeth, and said: 【Congratulations, Host, on successfully deducing Song Qingre's "villain" persona. Plot points +8. Current plot points: 66. There's still 4% left to unlock her ** persona.】

Yan Qingqiu hadn't expected that villain wasn't Song Qingre's true identity.

That would be too hard to guess.

The System sneered: 【Can you still get along with a villain? She's not your average villain, Yan Qingqiu. Don't come running around in panic when you find out the truth.】

Yan Qingqiu: 【No, I'll love her even if she's a villain!】

The System: 【You're quite stubborn.】

Yan Qingqiu said: "I'm not scared. I'm not just stubborn with my words—my bones are tough too. It's just cutting out a gland. What's the big deal?"

The System: 【Oh? Then why did you throw the knives into the trash and wrap them up in several plastic bags?】

Yan Qingqiu kept tidying up: "They're annoying to look at."

Yan Qingqiu threw the knives out the door, and when that didn't seem far enough, she kicked them.

It was just cutting out a gland. In her old world, there were no glands, and she'd lived fine.

She'd just been overthinking it.

What was there to be afraid of?

The doorbell suddenly rang, and her body tensed up.

Song Qingre was knocking. Yan Qingqiu paced around the room, her hands sweating from nervousness. Song Qingre knocked again, and she still felt scared, flustered. What was she supposed to do?

Song Qingre asked: "Are you in there?"

"Yeah, I'm here." Yan Qingqiu answered quickly without thinking. But thinking about how Song Qingre was waiting outside, she couldn't bear to keep her out. It was that deadly, heart-thumping feeling.

Yan Qingqiu felt that in the future, she would definitely spoil her wife.

Song Qingre tilted her head slightly and asked: "Why haven't you opened the door? I brought you something good to eat."

"Mm." Yan Qingqiu's fingers trembled as she pulled the door fully open.

Song Qingre lifted the bag in her hand and looked at her unsmiling face, saying again: "Isn't this what you wanted? I brought it specially for you."

Yan Qingqiu glanced at the bag in her hand, then took it and rummaged through it. She pulled out the suppressant, tested it first to see if it worked, uncapped it, and sprayed it on her neck.

It felt cool, like water, with no particular sensation.

"What's wrong?" Song Qingre asked.

Yan Qingqiu frowned at the production date and replied: "Nothing, I was just testing if it works."

"Does it?" Song Qingre leaned against the door, watching her. Maybe it was because she now knew about Song Qingre's "villain" identity, but she always seemed a bit mischievous.

"It's okay." After saying that, the bag slipped from Yan Qingqiu's hands. Meeting Song Qingre's puzzled gaze, she was on the verge of tears and confessed everything: "Song Qingre, it's over. Something's wrong."

"It's like my heat's coming." Yan Qingqiu didn't know how to explain it. She let out a crying whimper, unable to hold back: "It's really serious."

She felt like the System was behind all this—it had stopped Song Qingre's deliveries and deliberately triggered her heat.

Song Qingre frowned. She set the food down on the table, pulled open Yan Qingqiu's collar to look, and reached out a finger to touch the tip of her gland. Yan Qingqiu's body tensed, and she lowered her head.

Then Song Qingre moved closer, pulled her toward the bathroom. Yan Qingqiu was nervous: "What are you doing?"

"You sprayed so much suppressant just now. I'll help you wash it off." Song Qingre washed her gland, leaning in to sniff. She caught a faint fragrance: "It's amber and cedarwood."

"Huh? Last time wasn't it... a milky scent?"

"That might not have been the smell of pheromone liquid," Song Qingre said.

Yan Qingqiu understood immediately, her face flushing bright red: "Right, right, it doesn't really smell like that... But... I'm not sure either. Smell it again."

How could it be that obvious?

Her figure was honestly a bit explosive. When she'd had her measurements taken before coming, Su Xingjie had looked at her, pressed her lips together, and whispered that she was almost a D cup. Yan Qingqiu tugged at her collar and sniffed inside.

"It might be cedarwood, along with vetiver and pepper."

"And citrus."

Song Qingre savored it slowly.

As she spoke, Yan Qingqiu felt a slight pain at the back of her neck—her gland had been bitten open a little, like an ant pinching her flesh.

Song Qingre's teeth had made a small nick in her gland and injected something inside—wet and soft. Yan Qingqiu thought of the scene she'd seen of Song Qingre before, under the moonlight, pinching a suppressant and injecting it into her own neck—beautiful and clean.

Song Qingre leaned over her shoulder, her fingers hooking Yan Qingqiu's golden hair.

That strand of gold wound around her fingertips, over and over.

The sweet taste spread across her tongue.

Yan Qingqiu saw it in the mirror. She let out a muffled groan, the heat spreading smoothly through her limbs, warming her. Her red lips parted, and she couldn't suppress the muffled moan: "It's uncomfortable."

Yan Qingqiu had been keeping her expression rigid, but now her cheeks were burning. She turned her head and rubbed gently against the top of Song Qingre's head.

"Mm?" Song Qingre pulled back slightly and asked: "What?"

"It feels good." Yan Qingqiu said in a low voice.

Previously, when her heat came, she'd roll around, using physical pain to suppress the sensation. This was the first time she'd experienced this kind of comfort.

Before, Song Qingre had only given her massages, not kisses.

Now, she was addicted.

"Kiss me again," Yan Qingqiu said softly.

Song Qingre said: "You like it?"

"Mm." Yan Qingqiu nodded, experiencing this for the first time: "I like what you do."

"Are there other places that feel uncomfortable?"

"There's another place that's also flowing like the gland."

Song Qingre took her hand, squeezing the soft flesh of her palm, and said: "It's okay. Omegas are like this during heat. Don't be scared."

Her tone was gentle, which made Yan Qingqiu even more afraid, even less composed.

"I'll help you," Song Qingre said softly, pulling her hand: "Don't be afraid, Qiuqiu is about to fully become an omega. Being an omega is wonderful too."

She comforted her like this, and Yan Qingqiu's heart warmed. Being with her was really comfortable—Song Qingre knew how to soothe her.

Yan Qingqiu went to lie face-down on the bed in the bedroom, her nape gently soothed. She could turn her head and see Song Qingre, who was kneeling. A moment later, she lay down, pressing half her body against Yan Qingqiu's. Yan Qingqiu squinted her eyes in contentment: "I really like this."

Being soothed by Song Qingre like this, she felt it was a shame. If she didn't have to cut out her gland, could she have this often in the future?

She turned her head again to look at Song Qingre, who shifted position to kiss her lips—a brief touch, then she pulled back to continue soothing her nape.

Song Qingre kissed her gland, enveloping it with her mouth.

Song Qingre asked: "How is it now? Feel better?"

"I've told you so many times, and you still keep asking." Yan Qingqiu muttered quietly.

"I'm worried you're uncomfortable," Song Qingre said, tapping her nose. Her fingers were wet with water, cool to the touch.

Yan Qingqiu didn't realize at all that she'd been bitten by her. She was grateful for the emergency help and asked: "So, am I marked?"

"No." Song Qingre pushed a strawberry into her mouth. Yan Qingqiu bit the red tip, her tongue tasting the sweet strawberry juice. She swallowed it and looked at the other fruits. Song Qingre went to fetch a plate for her.

"Why do I feel like you just stuffed something into my gland? It still feels swollen now."

"Just testing. You haven't reached full heat yet," Song Qingre said.

"Marking seems pretty hard." Yan Qingqiu had thought a single bite would be enough for a forceful mark.

Song Qingre said: "A forceful mark is possible, but you'd feel very uncomfortable—no pleasure, and your body would react painfully. There's no need to forcefully mark you. I was just soothing you earlier, leaving a small sign."

"Oh, oh, oh." Yan Qingqiu listened, only half understanding.

Song Qingre said: "This helps ease you. I can't have you suddenly going into heat during a fashion show. With this mark, if another alpha tries to mark you by luring you with pheromones, you can keep a clear head."

How could Song Qingre be a villain?

Yan Qingqiu felt... that just because someone held a different emotional stance, calling them a villain was unfair. She thought Song Qingre was wonderful.

She didn't know why, but when she thought like this, she felt a chill run down her body.

Her instincts were afraid, but her mind was on Song Qingre's side, and her body responded instinctively.

Like encountering a terrifying beast—she thought the other was gentle and wouldn't hurt her, just fearsome in appearance. In reality... her body would tremble and back away.

Song Qingre was about to lie down to sleep, but Yan Qingqiu quickly put her hand under her waist. Song Qingre looked at her in confusion: "What's wrong?"

Yan Qingqiu swallowed: "It's just... could you not sleep lying next to me?"

"Then how should I sleep?"

"Sleep on top of me," Yan Qingqiu's face flushed with embarrassment. She cursed the System ten thousand times in her heart: Damn you, damn you, now you've made me look like some sex-crazed woman.

Song Qingre chuckled softly, turned over, and pressed down on her full body. Yan Qingqiu let out a muffled groan, her cheeks flushing. Song Qingre's long legs pressed up lightly: "Qiuqiu, you really are insatiable."

Actually, being pressed down while sleeping was pretty comfortable.

So embarrassing.

··

During her stay at the hotel, Yan Qingqiu still had to attend rehearsals on a strict schedule.

There were few people now, but later there would be more—with alphas and omegas present, which would be dangerous for Yan Qingqiu.

Yan Qingqiu was getting her makeup done backstage. She had a private dressing room. After changing, she sent Ji Xiangsi a message to come in.

Ji Xiangsi arrived with Su Xingjie, saying: "Miss Song really does act like Manager Qiu's agent."

"She has nothing else to do, so she just came to help me out."

"Are you ready?" Su Xingjie asked Yan Qingqiu. She hadn't had any runway experience before, nor had she faced the camera. Even though they'd tried multiple times, there was a big difference between a live event and a simulation: "Don't be nervous during the rehearsal. Just walk like you normally do. You can be a bit casual."

"Not like walking a runway—more like viewing an art exhibition."

"I'm good at viewing art exhibitions." Yan Qingqiu had been to plenty of Song Qingre's shows.

"The opening is viewing the art, then the models start walking. Moli will lead you, along with Miaomiao."

Yan Qingqiu knew Miaomiao—she was one of the dark-skinned hot models from the eighteen. They'd exchanged contact info.

"OK, help me say thanks... I'll say it myself later."

Yan Qingqiu tilted her head up, waiting for the stylist to finish her makeup.

Su Xingjie put on her glasses. The venue was warm, so she was just wearing a sweater. She stepped onto a black self-balancing scooter and did a lap, confirming everything was fine. She clapped her hands, and the models came out from backstage. First came a woman in a white fur shawl and a black qipao, wearing black gloves, the slit on the skirt reaching her thigh, held together by safety pins. Next was a woman in a leather mini down jacket over a long knitted dress with black tassels, and behind her, the ER's signature black rose design. Finally, there was the high-end gown Su Xingjie had paired with the design.

Yan Qingqiu came out.

Yan Qingqiu carried a bag, wearing a black coat with golden threads, embroidered with black roses. Around her neck hung large white pearls. She held a knitted handbag. She walked out from beside the big pearls and stood before the painting frame, admiring the distorted artwork on the wall.

The other models came over—waists were waists, hips were hips.

The show lasted two hours.

The rehearsal went excellently.

Song Qingre sat in the audience, watching. She started sitting, elbow propped on her knee, and finally walked over to the railing to watch.

Yan Qingqiu walked proficiently, without a single mistake. She wasn't there to outshine anyone or be outshone—she walked with her own style.

Su Xingjie really knew how to promote someone. The style she gave Yan Qingqiu was all luxury—silver and gold, even putting a few gold bars in her bag, which she hadn't told Yan Qingqiu about, saying they were just props. She was afraid Yan Qingqiu would hold back if she knew.

Su Xingjie kept cruising on her scooter, following them around.

The finale was Qiang Wei.

The show ended. Yan Qingqiu couldn't be bothered to go backstage, so she climbed over the low railing and went over to Song Qingre, asking with a smile: "How was it?"

She laughed and sighed: "So tiring."

She'd been wearing ten-centimeter heels, after all.

Song Qingre went over to support her and sat her down on a nearby chair, saying: "Beautiful. I never thought you could be a model."

"Neither did I. Xing Xing's the impressive one." She unclasped her shoes and added to Song Qingre: "You're impressive too. This scene and feeling—it's like I've fallen into an art hell."

"Glad you like it," Yan Qingqiu said.

The rehearsal ended. Su Xingjie got off her scooter, also exhausted. She came over and asked, "Qiu Bao, how was it?"

"Good!"

"I'd only heard about it before, but today I've seen Director Su's skill for myself," Yan Qingqiu praised: "I can hardly wait. Hurry up and get to the debut show."

"By the way, Qiu Bao, don't eat anything random these few days. I'll arrange your meals," Su Xingjie said.

"Okay. The bland food I've been eating at home has already trained me. I can eat anything."

Su Xingjie said softly: "Don't worry, I'll give you a special treat."

"Great!"

Su Xingjie glanced at Song Qingre beside her and said: "Let's cooperate again if we get the chance."

They shook hands in a businesslike manner.

Of course, Su Xingjie had noticed that jewelry was also a fashion point. She used the masks as a springboard to show off ER's fashion, which was a bit of a play on Song Qingre. Song Qingre called it helping out, but merchants were profit-driven. Song Qingre's studio needed to expand, so they simply set up a long-term collaboration. Su Xingjie had also realized that Song Qingre just didn't want to go into business—with her mind, she could easily build a company if she wanted to.

Su Xingjie guessed that during Song Qingre's years abroad, she might not have just been studying and healing from heartbreak. She might have made a lot of money, just that no one could find out.

On the way back, Song Qingre called out to Su Xingjie: "Oh, by the way, can I get two tickets from you?"

"I don't have any left now. Who wants to come?" Su Xingjie asked.

"It's Ye Sichun. She asked me for two."

The ticketing system had opened early, and all tickets were snatched up in an instant. It was normal that they didn't get any. Su Xingjie usually reserved some for business partners, but she'd already given them all away yesterday.

"No worries." Song Qingre got in the car. Yan Qingqiu raised her hand to touch up her lipstick using the car's rearview mirror, but then thought better of it. It was too dark; no one could see her anyway. She tugged at her seatbelt and said: "Then what do we do?"

"I'll give her my tickets. I should be backstage the day after tomorrow anyway. I'll just give her my seat."

"That works."

When they got to the hotel, Yan Qingqiu quickly took off her shoes and rubbed her feet. She had to say, walking the runway was a real skill, and it left her exhausted.

"I'll massage them for you later," Song Qingre said.

"No need. You're tired too." Yan Qingqiu lay on the bed: "You shower first, then I will. I'm not going to fight it."

Song Qingre smiled. She hung her clothes on the rack and headed to the bathroom. Just as she was about to close the door, she asked: "How's your gland during the walk?"

"Honestly, it was fine. I completely forgot about it."

Song Qingre closed the door, but soon, Yan Qingqiu heard her phone ring. She took it out to check—it was Ye Sichun calling. She called out to the bathroom: "Ye Sichun's looking for you."

"You answer it," Song Qingre said.

Yan Qingqiu sat on the edge of the bed and answered. Before she could speak, the other side started: "Just one? Isn't one not enough? I want to bring someone too. Can you ask around? I can pay."

"Then just have Luo Xi sit on your lap!" Yan Qingqiu said directly.

There was a pause, then Ye Sichun laughed: "I'm coming to see your debut show to support you. Can't you get me a ticket?"

"There really aren't any. If you'd told me earlier, I could've had Xing Xing set one aside for you. They're all gone now. I thought Luo Xi didn't want to come. Aren't you pretty well-connected? Didn't anyone give you one?"

"Something came up recently, so I didn't have time to sort it out," Ye Sichun said.

"What happened?" Yan Qingqiu asked.

Ye Sichun fell silent, then said: "If there aren't any, forget it. I'll ask around elsewhere. You two get some rest. I won't disturb you."

She hung up. Yan Qingqiu looked at the phone screen's lock screen passcode and typed in her own birthday. To her surprise, it unlocked.

The home screen was a photo of her—she didn't know when Song Qingre had taken it. In it, she was lying on the table with her eyes closed, sleeping. Yan Qingqiu glanced at her own phone, then set hers down.

She pressed the home button to return, and just as she was about to turn off the screen, several messages popped up in the notification bar.

She squinted, her fingers instinctively wanting to tap in, but she pulled back and set Song Qingre's phone aside.

Song Qingre came out of the shower and dried her hair with a towel. Yan Qingqiu got out of bed and walked barefoot to the bathroom. She washed quickly, cleaning every part of her body. When she came out wrapped in a towel, she asked: "Did Ye Sichun run into some trouble?"

"Probably something with Luo Xi from last time. Fu Ye thinks it's her fault and has been going after her recently, causing problems with her business. They keep getting audited. Fu Ye is vicious—he claimed she ran an escort service, deliberately sent people to harass the technicians, took photos, and said she'd coerced them. He's been putting obstacles in her way the whole time."

"Is Fu Ye crazy? Doesn't he dislike Luo Xi? Why is he making trouble on purpose?"

"He doesn't like Luo Xi, but he won't let her like anyone else."

"Does Luo Xi know about this? Whose side is she on?" Yan Qingqiu sat on the edge of the bed.

Song Qingre dried her hair with a towel, her fingers working deftly: "Not sure yet. It's their personal matter. With Ye Sichun's personality, she might not tell Luo Xi."

Disgusting. That Fu Ye was like a piece of crap—just looking at him made her sick.

Yan Qingqiu cursed a few times: "I hope he doesn't show up at the show."

Su Xingjie had told security not to let Fu Ye in. If he showed up, they were to kick him out. Hopefully, he'd have the sense to stay away.

As she thought about it, she felt her gland being enveloped. Song Qingre's hand rested on her leg, and she asked: "Need some comfort?"

Yan Qingqiu hummed twice, tugging at her towel: "Come in."

Winter had arrived, the weather dry, and moisture was lost quickly. They'd had to get up for water several times at night, gulping loudly, and accidentally wetting their lips and tongues.

Living together was nice—they could help each other. Previously, Yan Qingqiu slept alone, and when her heat came, she was so miserable at night she wished she could crawl under the bed.

Now it was so much better. Yan Qingqiu was almost addicted to this feeling, practically desperate for it. At night, if she didn't get a little something, she couldn't sleep.

In the morning when she left, she wasn't overly hot, but she couldn't help it—she always had Song Qingre bite the gland at the back of her neck.

The debut show was in early December.

Yan Qingqiu got up at three in the morning. Song Qingre drove her there, and she slept in the back. When they arrived, the stylist fixed her hair.

Ji Xiangsi, as her assistant, followed behind, but Song Qingre was even more attentive, feeding her and holding the milk to Yan Qingqiu's lips as she sucked on the straw.

"I talked to Su Xingjie and arranged for a doctor. Don't worry."

Because the models had to wear necklaces for display, and RE hadn't yet launched jewelry design, this time the jewelry was provided by three luxury houses.

Yan Qingqiu couldn't wear a suppressant collar, which was a hassle. As she was thinking about it, Song Qingre came over with something like a sticker: "Should I put this on for you?"

She looked closely—it turned out to be a temporary tattoo sticker.

"This one's been soaked in medicine. Applying it directly should last a long time. When you come off stage mid-show, I'll change it for a new one."

"Alright." Yan Qingqiu lifted her hair to let her apply it.

"It was a bit sudden, so I didn't have time to make a pretty sticker. I cut this one myself. Otherwise, I could've had someone hand-cut a nice one for you."

"It's fine, this one's pretty enough." Yan Qingqiu was very satisfied.

A dark red letter "S," like a seal, sat crookedly on the skin of her gland.

When it was done, Song Qingre took off her gloves. Yan Qingqiu's lips moved to speak, but Song Qingre pressed her finger to her mouth: "Don't think wild thoughts. What if your gland turns red on stage? How embarrassing would that be?"

She wouldn't let Yan Qingqiu think about it, but the way she said it made it impossible not to. What if she got teased by Song Qingre mid-show and couldn't hold back?

She wanted to ask if this suppressant sticker really worked—what if it got soaked by her gland fluid, how embarrassing would that be?

Because she couldn't speak, she bit Song Qingre's finger that was pressed against her lips, a light bite.

Song Qingre hissed.

Ji Xiangsi came in to deliver clothes, stood there awkwardly, then turned and walked out. Yan Qingqiu realized someone was there, felt too embarrassed to keep fooling around, and quickly stepped back to sit properly.

Song Qingre wiped her finger with a tissue.

Song Qingre asked: "No feeling today?"

Yan Qingqiu frowned: "No, it's fine. Actually, it's strange. I should barely be able to move right now, my whole body should be hot, and I should just want to be... you know."

Song Qingre thought for a moment and said: "It's fine. Let Ji Xiangsi stay with you for a bit. I'm going out to handle something—there's an art auction segment later that I need to coordinate."

"Come back soon then."

"Okay." Song Qingre nodded.

Song Qingre left and went over to the venue.

Fu Ye had shown up after all. His seat wasn't great—he sat in a corner in the general audience, but his spot was right by the backstage.

He must have bought a ticket at a high price from someone and found a way to slip past security.

The secretary leaned down to talk to him, and he was clearly annoyed.

"Mr. Fu, your heat is coming. The doctor said you're in the agitated phase..." the secretary said in a low voice.

"It's fine. Just give me a suppression wristband," Fu Ye said with a frown.

The secretary nodded and handed him one.

He added another warning: "Mr. Fu, do you need a suppressant?"

"No." Fu Ye refused firmly.

The secretary glanced at him, stood up straight, and warned again: "The company's illegitimate son has been making trouble lately, and your position has been weak. If something happens to you now, the board won't let it slide. The directors will take the chance to replace you. You..."

"Get lost." Fu Ye's words were sharp. He raised his chin and gave the secretary a cold look.

The secretary nodded slightly, left the venue, and once he was far away, cursed under his breath. He stood in the hallway about to light a cigarette when a staff member stopped him: "Sir, smoking is prohibited here. There's a smoking room up ahead. Please walk a few more steps."

"Fine." The secretary walked forward and ran into Song Qingre. He stopped, briefly wondering whether to leave.

Song Qingre held a white drawing board in her hand, sketching something. She glanced at him, her brow slightly furrowed, and said in a cold tone: "Your boss seems like his heat is coming."

The secretary said nothing—of course he knew.

But how did Song Qingre know?

Song Qingre said: "It's visible to the naked eye. It's a live broadcast now. You don't want him to make a scene so bad he can't recover and then pin the blame on you, do you?"

After her hint, the secretary caught on. He thought he'd call the chairman to report this right away—if something really happened, it would be Fu Ye who didn't listen.

But the secretary couldn't figure out why she was helping him.

Song Qingre stepped forward, her shadow falling on the floor in a small patch. She stood beside the secretary and said: "Your company has an illegitimate son I know. He's a friend of mine. If you want to switch bosses, if you want to be valued, you can contact me. I doubt you want to keep working for a boss who knows his heat is coming but deliberately comes to crowded places to try to mark a female omega as his prey and take her by force."

"Why me?" the secretary asked warily. He didn't like women like Song Qingre—too scheming, not as cute and pretty as his wife. His wife was a lovely high-ranking omega. Even if their match rating wasn't up to standard for a married couple, his wife still loved him wholeheartedly, encouraged him, and supported him.

He also respected his wife, which was why he always complained about Fu Ye's womanizing. But that didn't mean he'd join forces with Song Qingre.

Song Qingre's words were light but carried weight: "I heard from Ye Sichun last time that your wife is beautiful and gentle—a lovely omega lady."

With that, Song Qingre didn't say more. But the secretary was stunned. He turned his head to see Song Qingre's hand lower, holding a rough portrait sketch. It was messy, but he could tell who it was.

The secretary was inwardly shocked. Wasn't Song Qingre just an artist? How did she know so much? How did she know the Gu family's illegitimate son?

But... the secretary had been with Fu Ye for a while and knew Fu Ye had once been infatuated with Song Qingre. He could occasionally see that Song Qingre was stringing Fu Ye along, but her level was too high—it was hard to find fault with her.

The secretary thought it over, then suppressed his steps and walked forward, thinking he'd trail her for a few steps to see what she was up to. Song Qingre hadn't gone far—she turned her head directly to look at him.

Song Qingre said: "Changed your mind? Ready to talk to me?"

No.

The secretary choked internally. This woman didn't play by the rules.

"What did you mean by mentioning my wife just now? If you dare to touch my wife, don't blame me for being rude."

Song Qingre answered off-topic: "If it weren't for Fu Ye's interference, right now I'd be talking to you about how lovely my wife is. We'd have plenty to talk about. My thought has always been simple—to live happily ever after with my wife."

The secretary frowned, feeling her logic was unclear and her thoughts jumping around.

But a moment later, his face stung. Song Qingre said with a smile: "Let me tell you a secret. The best way to keep an animal from coveting your wife is... to destroy his gland, completely stripping him of his ability to mark."

"Fu Ye's match rating with your wife is 47% higher than yours. That's why I chose you."

Ten minutes later, Yan Qingqiu received a message from Song Qingre saying that Fu Ye's secretary had told her Fu Ye's heat had arrived.

Yan Qingqiu suddenly understood. No wonder her heat didn't trigger the plot last time and she didn't cut out her gland—the plot revolved around Fu Ye's heat.

It was the male lead's heat that was coming, and he was here to mark her.

She wanted to curse.

She pulled out her phone, looked at Song Qingre's photo again, and pressed it to her chest. IQ boost, IQ boost!

Yan Qingqiu took a deep breath, thought it over, and decided to talk to the System. Harmony brings wealth—time to talk nicely.

Yan Qingqiu said: 【Dear, Ah Tong.】 Trash can.

The System ignored her.

Yan Qingqiu said: 【If you don't listen to me, I'll call you my dear precious Ah Tong from now on. You're so afraid of Song Qingre—what if she discovers you exist one day, and I'm still calling you dear? Then...】

The System: 【Shut up!】

Yan Qingqiu finally tasted the pleasure of having the System in her grasp. She said: 【Anyway, it's all one task. You want me to finish it sooner, and I want to challenge my limits too. Let's not make things hard for each other. How about this: slightly modify the gland-removal option. Change it to 'fuck'—swap 'cut' for 'fuck'.】

The System was silent for a moment, not keeping up with her train of thought.

It said: 【Fuck your neck off?】

Yan Qingqiu almost spat out the milk in her mouth: 【What are you talking about?! I mean fuck for seven days and seven nights, no gland removal!】

The System said seriously: 【That won't do. We systems have principles too. Either you cut out your gland, or... you let her fuck your neck off. Pick one.】

Yan Qingqiu: "..."

Forget it. She'd cut it out.

If she cut out her own gland and roamed the world, people would call her a hard case. But if she got her neck fucked off and her gland ruined, ending up in the hospital, her ancestors would probably dig themselves up and go three feet deeper, pointing at her nose and saying, You, you, you... what face do you have left to be human!

She absolutely couldn't let that happen. She'd die before she let that happen!