Chapter 62

Song Qingre's words stunned everyone inside the room, and even Yan Qingqiu, standing outside, was left speechless—she gave her a direct thumbs-up.

The media cameramen shoved their lenses forward for a barrage of shots. If they hadn't been caught off guard and ready to go live earlier, this would've been the perfect moment to cash in on the hype.

The Fu family tried to pull their hands back, but no matter how hard they struggled, they couldn't break free. Song Qingre's grip was firm. They stumbled backward and slammed into the table, sending tea sloshing across the surface and soaking a patch of the lawyer's tailored suit.

The lawyer rose to her feet, face ashen.

Before the press conference, she hadn't said anything like this.

She'd agreed to everything, promised to apologize—and now she was pulling this stunt?

"Miss Song, please watch your words!" the lawyer stepped in to stop her.

The Fu family hadn't sent any of their sons to negotiate, nor Fu Zhenguo himself—all of them too afraid of losing face, each hiding away. The ones who came forward were the company's vice president (Fu Zhenguo's nephew) and Fu Zhenguo's secretary.

Song Qingre held on without letting go, as if she intended to crush the bones in his hand. The vice president's face twisted in pain, his fingers crumpling the paperwork on the table as he said, "If you keep this up, don't blame me for being rude! I don't accept your apology! Stop being so sarcastic, Song Qingre. You're an artist—don't embarrass yourself!"

"But how can you say that?" Song Qingre said mournfully. "You're the ones who called the press conference. You're the ones who asked for an apology. Just now, you described an estrus as a cold. Now that I'm speaking plainly, you call it nonsense. Compared to you, I still lack a certain artistry—I can't make my words sound as polished."

The lawyer circled around from behind the table, trying to forcibly pull the vice president's hand free, and warned directly, "Miss Song, if you resort to violence like this, we can sue you!"

Song Qingre's lawyer wasn't about to back down either. "We're simply having a friendly exchange. Isn't that what you demanded of us? That the attitude be sincere, the handshake full of good faith."

Song Qingre's fingers tightened. "Please accept my apology. I truly am sorry. Otherwise, I might not be able to let go... I beg you, in your mercy, don't hold this against me."

Who exactly was the one showing mercy now!

The vice president's finger bones felt like they were about to shatter from the pain. "Fine, fine, I forgive you! Let go!"

Song Qingre released her grip. The vice president staggered backward, his face contorted. His hand had turned red from the squeeze. He wanted to curse at her, but with the cameras aimed straight at him, he swallowed the words. He hurriedly tended to his hand—couldn't rub it, couldn't blow on it. Humiliated and in agony, he cursed her viciously in his mind, cursed Fu Zhenguo and his son. Why did they have to send him on this thankless task? Truly inhuman!

Song Qingre took out the white paper from earlier and wiped her hands with it, then said with a hint of suggestion, "Mm... Was I not convincing enough, or do you simply not need my apology?"

The lawyer caught on that she was laying a trap. "Song Qingre, it's your attitude—nothing about it looks like an apology. If this is how you apologize, then sorry, we can't accept it."

Song Qingre's brow darkened slightly, and she smiled. "But I really do feel guilty. I'm just expressing my emotions. It's only because my apology was a little too fervent that you won't accept it. So are you asking me to apologize without sincerity?"

The lawyer was taken aback. Had Song Qingre studied law or something? She was a master at twisting words. The lawyer hastily called it. "This press conference is over."

She signaled to her own reporters to stop, but Song Qingre's reporters had no intention of stopping—they kept filming from this side, and the other side, unwilling to let go of the hype, pretended not to hear and kept rolling.

Reporters, after all, don't exactly have a concept of obedience.

The vice president got a call—Fu Zhenguo. He told them to pull out immediately; they'd deal with it later. If they kept going, the Fu family stood nothing to gain.

As Fu Zhenguo spoke, Fu Ye's secretary Chen Ni listened in from the side. Chen Ni shook his head inwardly, thinking that Fu Zhenguo was a notch below Song Qingre. He'd probably lose to her sooner or later.

The Fu family left with stern faces, gray as ash, wearing an expression of "Song Qingre is being unreasonable and we've had enough," determined to sway public opinion to their side. Some reporters chased after them, asking what the Fu family planned to do next.

They were pursued all the way to the exhibition hall. The Fu family, indignant, refused to answer, merely implying that Song Qingre was despicable—a wolf in sheep's clothing.

The tall, spacious exhibition hall was spotless and uncluttered. The walls were like mirrors on all sides. They strode out with their heads high, using the exquisite art around them to showcase their indignation and tilt public opinion in their favor. What they failed to realize was that, in this artistic light, they couldn't hide under the clean veneer of art. They were demons who had barged into a temple of artistry—coming disguised as humans, and leaving with their masks torn off, exposing all the evil within.

Song Qingre didn't leave. She returned to the table and straightened her nameplate.

She faced the cameras. The thrill of the earlier slapdown had passed, and now everyone was in no hurry to see her counterattack—they quietly admired her beauty. Song Qingre wore a black turtleneck sweater, her hair pinned with a spider lily hairpin, a single touch of red against the black. It was art in its most serene form—both alluring and intimidating, giving off the impression that she was not someone to be trifled with.

She sat up straight, her voice clear and cool. "The clarification will continue. Media friends are welcome to ask more questions." Then, glancing at the Fu family's reporters, she added, "Of course, if you want to leave, I won't stop you."

A reporter asked, "Why do you keep referring to Fu Ye as a eunuch? Is this a deliberate act of revenge against the Fu family?"

Song Qingre smiled. "It's not my term—the Fu family used it first. I noticed the Fu brothers calling Fu Ye that, and he'd wake up when they did, so I said it a few more times myself. If you're curious, you can ask around and see if there's any truth to it."

Reporter: "The Fu brothers? The Fu family's illegitimate sons?"

Before Song Qingre could answer, another reporter cut in—more interested in this topic. "Who is your fated mate? Was it really you who spent seven days and seven nights with someone online?"

Song Qingre said, "A fated mate is a hundred percent compatibility—the highest match and fit in this world, one that no one else can surpass."

She smiled slightly. "Please, let's focus on my dispute with the Fu family. I must clarify matters between us. As for my personal affairs, I'm afraid I can't disclose them."

The reporter pressed on. "Did the Fu family pressure you?"

Song Qingre countered, "Have you seen me voluntarily call a single press conference?"

"How did the Fu family pressure you?"

The Fu family was dumbfounded. They'd left—shouldn't the press conference have ended? Why was it still going? Song Qingre wasn't just mocking them outright; she was deliberately and subtly shifting the blame.

Damn it. They'd fallen for it. This was entirely Song Qingre's show now. When they left, they should have dragged her out with them!

But they couldn't very well barge back in and crash the scene. The vice president quickly contacted the company, ordering an immediate PR response—deploy every tactic, throw everything at once, and smear Song Qingre by any means necessary.

At the press conference, Sheng Huajian leaned in to whisper two sentences to her boss, reporting on what was happening online.

Song Qingre stood up and apologized to the media. "You might not be seeing my work for a while after this. Back then, I was chased out of the country by Fu Ye and silenced for years. Now, we've come to this moment again. Consider this a warning bell to all artists: never get close to the Fu family if you're in the art world—it only brings misfortune."

She bowed deeply to express her apologies.

Netizens had gossiped plenty about what Fu Ye had done as a bossy CEO. Back when Song Qingre was abroad, there was an exhibition she'd prepared—everything was set—and then it fell through for some unknown reason. Later, when Song Qingre returned to China to hold an exhibition, Fu Ye had stuck his nose into everything again under the guise of love, and word had it she'd only managed to pull it off by borrowing money.

The press conference ended there. ER staff maintained order, and during it, one of Su Xingjie's people remarked, "In the temple of art, the Fu family has done everything they can to destroy art."

Art is fragile before capital, brittle as glass. But no one can live without art. Society advances not just to secure material life, but spiritual life too—and what is spiritual life without art?

Yan Qingqiu listened from the adjacent room, stunned. If it weren't for her limp leg—she was afraid the media would catch her and ask how she'd hurt it—she'd have gone over to shake hands with every member of the Fu family, bowing one by one and apologizing. God, that's just a little funny! So satisfying!

The only letdown was that her recording hadn't come in handy. Yan Qingqiu looked up at Su Xingjie. "Was all this planned by you guys? That's pretty impressive."

Su Xingjie said, "The later part was coordinated. But her apology at the beginning—I really didn't see that coming." Song Qingre was both sly and venomous. She'd thought Song Qingre would just trade barbs with the Fu family.

Those "eunuch" and "fated mate" bits were all Song Qingre improvising. A few sentences sent the Fu family into a fury so intense they actually walked out. Just... completely unexpected!

Su Xingjie pressed her hand on the back of Yan Qingqiu's chair, leaning down with a smile. "Shouldn't you know better than me?"

"I don't know either! I was still sulking!" Yan Qingqiu laughed, recalling the sight of the Fu family fleeing in disarray, and called out, "My cane, my cane."

Yan Qingqiu bent down to retrieve it, but Song Qingre had already finished on the other side.

Now, no matter how she looked at Song Qingre, she seemed formidable—clever, able to aggravate the Fu family to death with just a few words. Amazing.

When Song Qingre came over, Yan Qingqiu forgot her cane and wobbled two steps. She raised a finger at Song Qingre. "You're way too smart. Now the Fu family will have to think twice before doing anything to you—they'll have to ask themselves if they're ready to take a beating, hahaha."

Su Xingjie picked up the cane from behind and handed it to her.

The Fu family had chosen this venue for a reason. ER providing the location meant their conflict with ER was also resolved. They'd planned meticulously, aiming to kill two birds with one stone—why pass up a free ride?

They never expected Song Qingre to ensnare them so neatly, turning them into turtles in a jar—the very bastards they were.

They'd used public opinion to suppress Song Qingre, but she could just as easily use public opinion to crush them.

When it's time to bow your head, you bow your head.

Yan Qingqiu took the cane and said thanks to Xing Xing.

Song Qingre also said a genuine thank you. Su Xingjie smiled, then looked at Yan Qingqiu. "Want to go grab something to eat?"

Yan Qingqiu's leg wasn't easy to move around with—pretty inconvenient. But she nodded anyway. Why not eat? This called for a proper celebration!

Her whole body felt wonderful. Yan Qingqiu leaned on her cane, hobbling along stubbornly as she came out of the art hall, determined to join them for some spicy chicken.

Fortunately, her gland surgery didn't require dietary restrictions, or she'd feel those seven days and seven nights were a total waste. At the restaurant, they booked a private room. Su Xingjie's phone wouldn't stop buzzing, so she switched it to airplane mode.

Yan Qingqiu said, "I saw an interview in the news earlier, and there was a line in it that really stuck with me: once you reach a certain position, don't try to manage everything—you can't possibly manage it all."

She'd seen it in her original world, back when she wasn't much interested in capital, only in people demanding their wages and cursing at the rich. Every time, she'd sneak off to make snide remarks about the boss who'd laid her off, venting her frustration.

Yan Qingqiu said, "I'll buy you something. Have it delivered to your office."

"What is it?" Su Xingjie asked, curious.

"You'll find out later."

Yan Qingqiu could handle spice pretty well, but after eating bland food at home for so long, her palate had gone dull. After a few bites of spicy dishes, she kept reaching for juice.

"It's cold out—you should eat less of that," Song Qingre said. "And go easy on the orange juice too."

"I know." Yan Qingqiu let it go in one ear and out the other, clinking her glass with theirs. "Hey, think you could pack some up for me? Get some cold rabbit and rabbit legs. I'll snack on them while watching TV at the hospital."

Su Xingjie was about to ask what exactly was going on, but Yan Qingqiu added, "Babe, things are mostly settled now. You should enjoy yourself too. Get yourself a portion as well—eat it while you work in the office. You need to learn to enjoy life."

"I've never seen another art director eating in the office."

"You forgot? Back in school, we used to snack during class. We'd share sour Swiss candies, sneak spicy strips, and split ham sausages half and half!" Yan Qingqiu grinned.

"You have a point."

Song Qingre said, "You don't have to lecture her like that. Maybe she just doesn't like eating in the office."

"She's just too reserved. If no one encourages her, she never dares to do what she wants."

Su Xingjie ate slowly, watching Yan Qingqiu pile meat onto her plate. Song Qingre was right—she didn't really enjoy eating in the office. Years of habit had built a bit of a fussiness in her as an art director, but back in school, it was always Yan Qingqiu who'd led the way. Of course, looking back on it, those memories were happy ones.

With that, they finished their meal.

Song Qingre called the manager and asked if they did private dishes, wanting to buy some to take home.

The manager said they didn't do private orders, but if she wanted, they could pack it in fresh-sealed packaging.

Song Qingre nodded. They'd need to wait half an hour. Bored with the wait, Yan Qingqiu pulled out her phone and scrolled through videos. Today's events had already hit the hot searches—the top one being #FuYeEunuch#.

What netizens found funniest wasn't Song Qingre calling Fu Ye a eunuch, but the fact that the Fu brothers had gone to whisper in Fu Ye's ear. One netizen's top comment: Every single one of the Fu family is a talent.

Yan Qingqiu returned to the hospital, and Su Xingjie followed along in Song Qingre's car to check on her. Before this, Su Xingjie hadn't known Yan Qingqiu was staying in the hospital—partly because she'd been busy, and partly because she trusted Song Qingre, and there was no reason for her to lie. Now that she knew, she asked, "What are you doing in the hospital?"

"Just a small problem. Fu Ye's estrus slightly affected me, and my gland had a little issue." She'd decided to take the whole "gland wrecked by seven days and seven nights" story to her grave. If anyone brought it up, she'd just say—

"But online they said you spent seven days and seven nights..." Su Xingjie studied her, eyes full of suspicion.

The two of them sat in the back seat. Yan Qingqiu covertly raised the soundproof divider so the front couldn't hear them. She said seriously, "Look, with Song Qingre's waist, her figure, that delicate look—could she really go seven days and nights? Seven days and nights is completely unscientific. You're overestimating her. Look at her, she's clearly... it's impossible... Online's all rumors! Don't believe it!"

"Are you saying Song Qingre can't handle it?" Su Xingjie narrowed her eyes and shot a glance forward—Song Qingre was driving very attentively.

Yan Qingqiu felt she couldn't betray her conscience, so she corrected herself. "No, that's not what I mean. It's not that she can't handle it, it's just... she'd struggle."

"She'd struggle for even one night? That's worse than not being able to at all."

"..."

Yan Qingqiu tugged at Su Xingjie, saying seriously, "It's not right to gossip about people like that. The internet's all lies. Song Qingre might be capable, but..." But there's no way I'd end up in the hospital from *that*, you get me, girl?

Su Xingjie looked at her, feeling like she didn't quite get it.

Yan Qingqiu's conscience really pricked her, afraid of damaging Song Qingre's image, and she said, "Don't believe the nonsense online. She's probably decent."

"Mm... I see." Su Xingjie was half-inclined to believe Yan Qingqiu, half not. There was a lot of fabrication online—utter nonsense. The seven days and seven nights thing had to be a play for attention and clicks.

It probably wasn't as extreme as people made it out to be. But there must be something between them, or Qiu Bao wouldn't be so afraid of her.

They reached the hospital entrance, and Song Qingre helped her upstairs. All three wore masks—they were all famous now, and being photographed would be troublesome. They kept a low profile going up.

Yan Qingqiu found being aided too slow, so she hopped and bounced ahead. A passing nurse spotted her instantly. "Yan Qingqiu, don't strain your gland."

"..."

Yan Qingqiu pressed her lips together and behaved. "Got it."

The nurse was about to say more, but Yan Qingqiu, terrified she'd bring up the *big one* thing, quickly dove into her hospital room. From outside, the nurse said, "Your two dads are here."

The nurse had it wrong—they weren't her two dads.

It was her father and the butler.

Yan Qingqiu stared at the room with a look of utter despair.

On the left sat Yan Fu in a chair; on the right, the butler stood quietly beside him, holding clothes. They said nothing. Yan Qingqiu turned her head, wanting to ask the nurse, *Did you tell my dad my real condition?*

Yan Fu's expression was stern, his eyes narrowed behind his glasses, brows furrowed in worry. "How could you be so careless? You haven't been in the hospital for seven days, have you? Why didn't you say anything to the family!"

"It's not like I've been in the hospital the whole time..." Yan Qingqiu pressed her lips together, shooting a glance at Song Qingre. *How did you mess up the secrecy? Why did my dad show up right after we got here? It's your fault, your fault!*

*My gland was wrecked because of you—you're responsible!*

Song Qingre knocked on the door and said, "Ah, she was just staying at a wellness center. A friend of mine runs it—you probably know her, Ye Sichun. She stayed there a few days because she was worried you'd be anxious. It's just a minor thing—her gland's fine."

Yan Qingqiu's eyes immediately turned warm and grateful toward her. *Thank you for covering for me, or I'd be doomed. Boohoo, thank you.*

Yan Fu kept fussing. "Your gland is really fine?"

"It's fine, Dad, don't worry." Yan Qingqiu listened quietly to the scolding.

"You were being obedient not too long ago, and now you're acting up again." Yan Fu said a few words, but in the end, his heart softened for her. "Sweetheart, don't keep making your dad worry. If something happens, you have to tell me. We're family."

"I know, Dad."

Song Qingre said, "Su Xingjie is here too."

"Xingjie's here as well." Yan Fu looked behind them. Su Xingjie stepped out from behind and called him uncle. Yan Fu stood up—fine, he'd let it go. Talking about it would just be embarrassing.

The two of them helped Yan Qingqiu to sit on the edge of the bed. Yan Fu, at a loss with her, said, "You, always causing trouble for Xing Xing."

Yan Qingqiu looked at the butler, silently asking him to manage her father.

The butler first placed her clothes in the cabinet beside them, then opened the food container—inside was simmered chicken soup, plus some New Year's cured meats from the family cook. The head chef's cooking didn't do much for her appetite, but her father had carried it all this way; she had to eat at least a bite or two.

The butler ladled her a bowl. Yan Qingqiu took a sip and said, "Thanks, Dad, but we already ate out. Leave it here—I'll have it as a midnight snack if I get hungry tonight."

Yan Fu's scrutinizing gaze moved from one to the other of them. He trusted Song Qingre, but she'd also helped Yan Qingqiu lie plenty of times since they were kids.

"What's this? Did the family cook change? This tastes better than before—didn't it used to be pretty bland?"

Yan Fu didn't know how to answer her. It wasn't that the chef lacked skill—it was that she'd been differentiating before, and the whole household had been eating omega differentiation meals with her. Now that she was done differentiating, of course her taste had returned to normal.

The butler said, "If you like it, eat more. We'll have the head chef prepare it this way from now on, just the way you like it."

Yan Qingqiu felt a touch of emotion.

Everyone cared about her. Yan Qingqiu knew that in her heart, and the thought warmed her.

She felt a little guilty. That day, she'd really thought she was going back, so she'd notified her friends and her father—who knew she'd gotten rerouted halfway?

Su Xingjie walked to the bedside and looked at her neck, where a bandage was taped on. She wasn't sure what that was about. Song Qingre explained that her condition wasn't severe at the moment.

Yan Fu said, "It's not that I'm feeling sorry for myself, but I think of you as a child. You'd always wait at home for me to come back, and I was always so busy, never having much time to sit down and eat a proper meal with you."

"Dad has to work to support me, so of course it's hard. If it were easier, you wouldn't be out there hustling all the time." Yan Qingqiu said earnestly.

Yan Fu was deeply gratified. Yan Qingqiu had caused plenty of trouble growing up—never the most obedient—but she was different from other kids. He often heard business partners say their daughters didn't even recognize them when they came home, complaining about their fathers never being around. When he thought back to his own daughter, he felt blessed, because she always cared about him.

Back when she was obsessed with Fu Ye, she'd fight him, saying things like, "You never raised me—you were never there when I was little, so what right do you have to interfere now?" complaining that he'd shirked fatherhood and left her to grow up in the hands of the butler and nannies. He'd felt guilty hearing that, with no room to argue.

To hear such words now was all the more bittersweet—it stung.

Yan Qingqiu looked at her father again, and she truly felt Yan Fu worked hard. She'd worked jobs herself, coming home exhausted like a wreck, and her father still insisted on coming home to eat with her every day. As long as she was home, he never drank casually. Yan Qingqiu hadn't experienced other families or other fathers, but she thought Yan Fu qualified quite well.

The person who'd done the previous task had definitely misread the background, or reasoned it out wrong, and that was why they'd tormented Yan Fu so cruelly, hurling abuse at him.

But that was a little strange. If they knew Song Qingre was the "villain" and her father was the "vile patriarch," and they had a script from the start, why didn't the System give it to her? Why did she have to figure it all out herself?

They finished their meal. Song Qingre, the butler, and Su Xingjie stepped outside to talk, working out the arrangements—they'd take turns coming to the hospital to look after Yan Qingqiu.

Yan Qingqiu wiped her mouth and tugged at Yan Fu's sleeve. Yan Fu leaned forward. "What is it?"

"Just so you know, Dad, I'm going to tell you a secret, but you can't tell anyone."

"Mm, go ahead." Yan Fu's expression turned serious, indicating he absolutely would not say a word.

"I differentiated into an omega... an SSS-rank omega!"

"Ah? Ah!" Yan Fu stared at her, stunned, then quickly nodded.

Yan Qingqiu sighed. Look how scared her dad was—he'd gone completely blank, not knowing what to do.

Yan Qingqiu pressed a finger to her lips, and Yan Fu pressed a finger to his lips as well.

Just then, the butler came in and asked if there was anything she wanted to eat; he'd go buy it for her later.

Yan Qingqiu thought it over and felt it wasn't right to tell her dad but keep it from the butler—the butler doted on her too. After some thought, she sent him a text: 【Dong Shu, let me tell you a secret: I've differentiated into an omega. Not many people know this. I'm telling you because I trust you—don't go spreading it around.】

Later, on the way home, the butler would see that message and sit stunned for a long time.

The two men stared at each other, both letting out a sigh.

Yan Qingqiu thought to herself again—Dad and Dong Shu both knew now, so it wasn't fair not to tell her best friend. She and Su Xingjie were as close as sisters from the same mother. But if she told her best friend and scared her... what then? Sigh.

She grabbed her phone and typed it out. Go big or go home.

Families shouldn't keep secrets from each other.

A crowd surrounded Yan Qingqiu, fussing over her. Her heart felt warm but also tired—she was wrapped in warmth and care. She thought about how she used to be afraid of even catching a cold, terrified she wouldn't be able to look after herself and kick the bucket. Now, it all felt so warm...

It felt like home. Like she'd come home.

That evening, Yan Fu drove Su Xingjie back. On the way, they discussed how to deal with the Fu family. When Su Xingjie reached her doorstep, she received a message too. She was shocked by what she read and immediately fired off a text back to Yan Qingqiu.

Su Xingjie: 【Doesn't your family already know? Last time Song Qingre came to the company to offer her help, she told me you were about to undergo secondary differentiation—your third gender uncertain, but dangerous. I was half-doubting it, but I didn't think you'd actually differentiate into an omega...】

"..."

Yan Qingqiu shouted toward the bathroom, "Song Qingre! You guys lied to me!"

And here I thought no one knew, putting on a show every day. Sometimes I'd even throw in a line like, "So alpha, I can't take it," and everyone would play along: "Yes, yes, miss is the most alpha!"

So infuriating!

Yan Qingqiu didn't feel like talking anymore. She opened Weibo to enjoy today's results.

Song Qingre had hit the hot searches—a flood of posts praising how amazing she was. One hashtag read #SongQingreSly#.

Yan Qingqiu was surprised by the title. She didn't understand why they called Song Qingre sly. She thought Song Qingre was strategic, very clever—not sly, but witty, intelligent.

【Song Qingre is a cup of poisoned tea. No wonder Fu Ye never could win her over back then. She's too badass. I love an artist who's two-faced like this.】

【Heehee, artists really are a bit twisted.】

【I just thought of a character perfect for her: tú, as in "poisoning."】

【I love the sly sister. Off-topic, but is that leak for real? Can Song Qingre really go seven days and seven nights? I heard she turned Yan Qingqiu from an A into an O. I want her to give me seven days and seven nights too. I've always felt my differentiation was off. I don't want to be an A; I want to be an O. Being a bottom A is so hard... Please, someone save me.】

Yan Qingqiu paused at this comment and couldn't help but reply: "Stop being so thirsty, sis. You don't want to be an O—you just want a woman. Whether you're an A or an O, you'll take it. You're just plain horny." She knew that game all too well!

As she was replying, the System came online, its voice particularly grating.

Yan Qingqiu looked at the news and said calmly, 【Is my current task complete?】

System: 【Don't you think it's embarrassing to be screwed into the hospital?】

Yan Qingqiu didn't see anything embarrassing about it. She came in because her gland was bitten and damaged, not because she got *screwed*. Annoying—people spreading rumors without knowing the truth, talking nonsense!

Just as she thought that, she saw another post.

It read: 【Seven days and seven nights... Song Qingre's fierce. So Yan Qingqiu must've been... screwed into the hospital. Damn.】

"So mad!"

Yan Qingqiu quickly switched to a burner account and replied: 【It's clearly marketing accounts spreading rumors. I don't think seven days and seven nights is possible. Maybe it was three days and three nights. This isn't a novel! No one can go seven days! Overindulging will kill you—your kidneys will ache!】

She'd just been hospitalized. It wasn't just her neck that hurt—her kidneys hurt, her legs hurt. She needed a cane to walk.

Soon, a netizen replied: 【Whoa, sis knows her stuff. How many days?】

Yan Qingqiu chose to ignore it. Her logic was simple: as long as everyone thought "seven days and seven nights is impossible," then her hospital stay would be seen as fake. She went online and frantically spread rumors about herself, saying seven days and seven nights was impossible—it didn't exist.

But mindful of precedent, she didn't dare get too carried away, afraid someone would uncover she was "Yan Qingqiu." She deliberately varied her claims—sometimes saying a normal person could only manage one day and one night, sometimes saying three days and three nights.

Throwing people off the scent. Heh, brilliant.

Soon, more and more netizens replied to her. She quickly logged off, so she wouldn't accidentally create a new trending topic.

The System was still there, probably fuming.

Yan Qingqiu didn't engage with it and kept scrolling her phone. Today, she'd had a very strange memory—she recalled something about being in school with Su Xingjie, but she'd never gone to school with Su Xingjie.

A clear image flashed through her mind, like a lost memory. In it, she could see a younger Xing Xing.

Su Xingjie hadn't been as mature back then. She was adorable, with a star-shaped hairpin in her hair. She'd blush when she smiled, always lowering her head and sneaking shy glances at her.

So innocent, so cute.

It was strange.

Was it "Miss Yan's" memory?

When it surfaced, she'd been surprised, but she'd suppressed it, afraid the System would notice.

The System said: 【Congratulations, Host, on completing the task. You've now accumulated 70% of the plot points, unlocking the villain's hidden attribute. I'll now initiate it for you...】

"Creak—" The door opened, and Song Qingre emerged from the bathroom, still carrying steam. She said, "I'm done."

Yan Qingqiu jumped. She'd been completely focused on the System's words—something crucial—and now her heart was pounding.

There was a flicker of fear in her eyes. Song Qingre smiled. "What's wrong? Scared like that?"

Yan Qingqiu said, "It's your fault for not knocking."

"Do I need to knock when I come out of the shower?" Song Qingre paused and laughed. "Or should I say, 'Watch out, everyone, the beauty's coming out of the shower'?"

Why did that phrase sound so familiar?

"I guess that's fair..." Yan Qingqiu nodded.

In her mind, the System had gone silent.

Song Qingre asked if she wanted to shower. The doctor had told her not to, worried about her gland, but not showering was definitely uncomfortable. Song Qingre said she'd wipe her down with a towel.

Yan Qingqiu stripped off her clothes, completely bare. Song Qingre wiped her down with a towel, then turned her over.

Yan Qingqiu held up her phone, facing Song Qingre.

Song Qingre wiped her down with the towel—wiping the bunnies, brushing their soft fur. Yan Qingqiu said nothing, her expression utterly composed.

Song Qingre squeezed her knee, making her bend it. Song Qingre asked, "Do I look good?"

Yan Qingqiu was just scrolling the hot searches, but from this angle, it looked like she was filming Song Qingre. Song Qingre was only wrapped in a towel, and they looked like they were up to something filthy. Her phone slipped from her grip and landed on her face.

She scrambled to grab it and leaned forward.

"I'm done. I'm done."

Song Qingre slapped her ass, then rinsed the towel. Song Qingre handed her the change of pajamas. Yan Qingqiu turned off her phone and sat up to get dressed. Song Qingre went to dump the water, and when she heard the sound, she quickly lay back down, silent and still.

Song Qingre leaned over the bed, looking at the bandage on the back of her neck.

"The doctor said she'll come change it tomorrow."

Song Qingre gave an "Mm."

Yan Qingqiu held up her phone to cover her blushing face, concentrating on looking at the hot searches again. The Fu family matter was spreading fast—not just the "eunuch" thing. Some were directly criticizing the Fu family for being so lawless and arrogant, targeting an artist—was this a society of law or not?

Song Qingre picked up a hair tie from the bedside table and tied her hair up. Yan Qingqiu was shopping. She glanced at what Yan Qingqiu was buying—the page she had open was a bit indecent. The product names read: Epimedium, Giant Centipede, All-In-One Miracle Tonic, Nightly Soul-Stirring Pill, Ancient Formula Revival Broth...

"You're buying this for Su Xingjie?" Song Qingre was puzzled.

"Definitely not for Xing Xing. Why would I get her this? That's embarrassing."

Song Qingre frowned, hesitated for a moment, then asked, "Then who are you buying it for?"

Yan Qingqiu grinned mysteriously, furiously adding items to her cart—she'd throw thousands of yuan's worth at Fu Ye as "supplements." Then she'd contact a few butcher shops and get some beef and lamb penis, all sent to him to eat. Ha! That way the Fu family couldn't call them unreasonable!

After placing the order, Yan Qingqiu looked at Song Qingre. Song Qingre hadn't come to bed but had instead spread a blanket on the floor and lay down.

Yan Qingqiu propped herself up on her elbow and asked, "Why are you still sleeping on the floor?" She patted the empty spot beside her and smoothed the sheet flat. "Sleep here with me."

The hospital room had two beds, but the other one was smaller. Before, Yan Qingqiu had been a restless sleeper, and Song Qingre lay on the floor so that whenever she moved, she could reach out and grab her arm.

Song Qingre turned off the light but still slept on the floor.

Yan Qingqiu turned direction and lay horizontally, saying, "Didn't we agree you'd come up today? I won't toss and turn anymore. Besides, you don't seem like the shy type."

Song Qingre folded her hands over her stomach and said quietly, "It's not about being shy. The thing is, I feel I'm not worthy."

She said mournfully, "I'm a useless woman. Can't even manage one night."

"Sleeping with you would just make me feel guilty."

Yan Qingqiu's smile slowly stiffened as she looked at her pristine white pillow. "Oh," she said. So you heard all that, huh. How abrupt. She didn't ask Song Qingre again. She shifted to the other side, but after a moment, she shifted back.

The night was quiet, and the silence between them grew awkward.

Yan Qingqiu, lying on her stomach, called out to her, "Hey, I was just saying that. I was afraid people would call you a beast, so I softened it a bit. Why are you taking it so seriously?"

Song Qingre said, "Doesn't look that way. You were so earnest. You've crushed my pride as a woman. It's really upsetting. An alpha with weaker mental fortitude would've given up on life by now."

Yan Qingqiu buried her face in the pillow, then lifted it again. "Come on, be good. Stop messing around and get in bed with me."

Song Qingre said nothing.

Yan Qingqiu let out a soft sigh. She turned over and pulled out her phone from under the pillow. She reached her hand down toward the floor and patted Song Qingre's shoulder. Song Qingre didn't respond. Her fingers poked at her.

Song Qingre finally opened her eyes to look at her. "Hm?"

"Look." Yan Qingqiu held out her phone for Song Qingre to see. She hadn't dimmed the brightness, and the strong light hit Song Qingre's face, making her squint slightly.

On the phone was a netizen's top comment.

It read: 【If she got sent to the hospital after one day and one night, or three days and three nights, doesn't that mean Yan Qingqiu just can't take it? She's not really up to that certain word.】

"Get it now?" Yan Qingqiu huffed. She really couldn't help her. "Now that you get it, stop making a fuss and get up here. You're young but so hot-tempered."

Song Qingre read it and nodded.

Her gaze turned soft and earnest. "I get it... so that stuff you bought is for yourself? I don't think those supplements are right for you. For your small frame, they'd be a bit much. Just take a little, that's all."