Chapter 65

During the paperwork, her whole body went cold, and she couldn't stop shivering.

Yan Qingqiu was so dazed that her fingers trembled as she signed. She set down the pen and pushed the forms to the staff member, who looked at her with concern and asked, "Are you sure you want to marry her?"

Yan Qingqiu said, "Yes."

The staff member asked, "Then why do you look so scared?"

Yan Qingqiu said softly, "I'm just nervous, because it's my first marriage. I have no experience, so I'm nervous. It's not that I don't want to."

She looked at Song Qingre, who had already signed long ago and was giving her a gentle smile.

The registrar said, "I thought you were being coerced."

Yan Qingqiu thought to herself, so you could tell, huh?

It wasn't really coercion. It was just that... she was a little scared.

People say marriage is the tomb of love. She just didn't know if it was a metaphorical tomb or a literal death grave.

She didn't want to enter a grave.

After signing and receiving the documents, they were about to take photos. Song Qingre held her hand as they walked over, with Song Qingre carrying the stamped forms.

They continued queuing and reached the door, when Yan Qingqiu said, "Wait." Song Qingre paused slightly and looked at her curiously.

Yan Qingqiu pressed her lips together and said, "Give me the lipstick."

Song Qingre took out the lipstick and handed it to her. Yan Qingqiu then took out her compact mirror and glanced at her reflection. Her face was far too pale, a deathly white. No wonder the staff asked if she was being coerced—this complexion didn't look like excitement at all; it looked like she was being forced.

Song Qingre didn't say anything, quietly waiting for her.

"Let me put on some more powder."

She looked at Song Qingre's complexion. Song Qingre looked wonderful, her face rosy and moist, with only a slight redness from the wind earlier.

"Your lipstick is smudged outside the line." Song Qingre said as she leaned in, gentle and tender. Her fingers pressed against the edge of Yan Qingqiu's lips and wiped twice, accidentally making her lips even redder.

Song Qingre took a piece of makeup remover cotton and wiped it clean for her. Yan Qingqiu's breath fell on Song Qingre, whose eyelashes trembled slightly, revealing beautiful amber eyes beneath. They were very close.

Their scents and pheromones mingled together.

Song Qingre's movements were gentle, as if afraid of hurting her. She smiled and said, "Don't be so nervous. If you keep being nervous, I'll get scared too."

"Did you see something just now? You looked so frightened." Song Qingre let go and put the used cotton pad into a bag.

"It's not that..." Yan Qingqiu stammered. "I just suddenly felt a little scared. It's just that, suddenly getting married, it's just... like this."

"Oh, I see. I thought Qiuqiu had changed her mind."

"No."

Song Qingre curved her lips into a light smile, her fingers gently touching her hair. "Alright, we're married now. I'll treat Qiuqiu very well. Qiuqiu is my wife, so how could I bully you?"

As she spoke, she stepped forward to stand face to face with Yan Qingqiu, and her lips landed on her forehead in a gentle kiss.

It was tender, like coaxing her, coaxing her bride not to be afraid.

"Mm." I'll listen to you.

Yan Qingqiu could no longer tell whether she was speaking aloud or just thinking.

"Alright, don't overthink it." Song Qingre held her hand, interlacing their fingers. There were still people ahead of them taking registration photos.

Song Qingre took a step forward, and Yan Qingqiu followed, but she stopped again and said softly, "If you don't want to take the photo today, we can stop. Because... the marriage photo might be something for a lifetime, and I don't want to make you feel too upset."

"I'm not that upset." Yan Qingqiu took a deep breath and closed her eyes. It was because Song Qingre's body was too cold that she felt so scared.

She vigorously rubbed Song Qingre's hands to warm them up, trying not to look at Song Qingre's head. She closed her eyes and embraced Song Qingre.

Yan Qingqiu didn't know what she was thinking.

She was hugging an "executioner," hugging a "demon" who might very well kill her. She seemed to smell the rusty scent of blood on her.

She sniffed hard and caught the scent of citrus.

This fragrance was extremely prominent in winter—cold, sour, and icy.

"You're not very happy either." Yan Qingqiu looked up at her.

"Because it's too cold." Song Qingre said.

"Are you two done? It's your turn." The staff member inside urged them, not as politely as the one outside, as if they had their own worries and really disliked how they were dawdling. The staff member said lazily, "Fix your hair yourself, don't cover your ears and eyes. Sit closer together, but don't merge into one."

The two sat on small stools. Yan Qingqiu was very nervous, afraid to look at the camera, her heart pounding wildly.

"Smile a bit. This will look terrible." The staff member said.

Yan Qingqiu's lips curved slightly, and she looked at the camera again. This time the staff member didn't say anything. The photo with the red background was quickly printed out, and they took it to the next station.

"Sign here."

The two came back to sign.

The last staff member pasted the photo, pressed the steel embossed seal, and stamped it with a red seal.

They received a little red booklet.

After returning their household registration booklets and ID cards, the staff member said they didn't need to merge their household registrations, but if they wanted to, they could register it now.

"We're neighbors." Yan Qingqiu said.

The staff member looked at the two of them and smiled. "Then you can just put them in one booklet, no need for the hassle."

"Mm, alright." Yan Qingqiu took the documents and stuffed them all into Song Qingre's handbag.

Now there were two extra red booklets, and the bag looked a bit bulkier than before. The two walked out, still feeling like they were dreaming.

Song Qingre looked at her as if she had something to say.

But Yan Qingqiu really couldn't speak anymore. She glanced at a shop nearby and said, "How about we go eat some beef noodle soup? I haven't had it in a long time."

"Mm, let's go."

A few minutes later, the two sat in the shop waiting for the owner to bring their noodles.

The noodle shop was old. The menu on the wall was greasy, its characters blackened by smoke and oil, and it took a while to make out the words. They ordered the signature beef noodles.

Yan Qingqiu sat across from Song Qingre, looking at her, not knowing where to put her hands because she felt the table was a bit dirty. She thought that many years later, if someone asked her what she remembered most about her wedding day,

it would be that the two of them went to a beef noodle shop to eat noodles.

Song Qingre doesn't eat cilantro, and I do, so she put her cilantro into my bowl.

Then I looked up and saw written above her head: Psychopathic Murderer.

Of course, she couldn't say those last words.

Song Qingre moved at a leisurely pace. Outside the street, a few children on bicycles passed by, laughing and racing each other. The owner hurried out and shouted, calling his own kid's name, telling him not to ride into the traffic lane.

The winter warmth made the temperature rise. Yan Qingqiu lifted a strand of noodles and blew on it gently, the steam warming her face.

She was a normal person. Every time she looked up and saw the words above Song Qingre's head, her heart turned cold. Song Qingre wasn't killing people—she was kicking hosts out of the game... It's usually the opposite, where people kill game NPCs...

It was all so confusing.

Song Qingre found another piece of cilantro and put it in her bowl, then used a clean spoon to scoop the soup.

Yan Qingqiu took a sip of the soup. Isn't it common for NPCs to kill hosts in games? Isn't it normal for her to get killed by an NPC because she sucks at the game?

In those MOBA games, it's players fighting players, so what's there to fear?

Heh, it's just a game, a game...

"Cough, cough, cough." Yan Qingqiu accidentally choked on the spicy soup. Song Qingre pulled out a tissue and handed it to her. Yan Qingqiu wiped her mouth, coughing so hard tears streamed down her face, and thought: choking on soup isn't part of playing a game.

Yan Qingqiu ate quickly; Song Qingre was more leisurely.

After finishing a bowl, she was completely full. Song Qingre had already paid when they ordered.

They walked out of the noodle shop into the wind.

Song Qingre took a scarf from her bag and gave it to her. Yan Qingqiu wrapped it around her neck, and as she was tying it, Song Qingre's hand gently tugged at the back of her neck, telling her not to tie it too tight. Yan Qingqiu's eyes closed slightly, her gaze landing on her own neck. It wasn't that scary after all.

She wasn't scared.

"Want to go to the mall?" Song Qingre asked.

"Mm, staying in the room all the time is suffocating."

Song Qingre drove them to a nearby mall. The first floor was a supermarket, but they had nothing to buy, so they went straight up to the cinema to watch a movie.

Yan Qingqiu's mind was occupied the whole time, and she barely followed the film. When they came out, she only caught a few vague glances.

Outside the cinema, Song Qingre asked, "Was it good?"

"So-so." Yan Qingqiu didn't even know what it was about. She unfolded the ticket in her hand and looked at the title. If Song Qingre asked just one question about the plot, she'd be caught.

Song Qingre said, "It was indeed just so-so. Nothing special."

Yan Qingqiu stuffed the ticket into her pocket. The cold wind outside made her shiver.

Her fingers were icy. Yan Qingqiu asked, "Are you cold?"

"A little."

Yan Qingqiu slipped her fingers into Song Qingre's coat pocket. Song Qingre wore a thick black overcoat, but it never seemed to warm up—her pocket was freezing. Yan Qingqiu put Song Qingre's hand into her own pocket. "It's warm here."

Song Qingre was 5 cm taller, so walking with their hands in her pocket was awkward. Once they were a bit warmer, Song Qingre tucked her hand back into her own pocket. It was strange—the pocket had been as cold as an ice cave, but now that her hand was inside, it was wonderfully warm.

When they reached the first floor, Yan Qingqiu's phone rang. Song Qingre let go of her hand so she could answer, but Yan Qingqiu shook her head. "It's probably the hospital calling to tell me to come back. Let's head back a bit later. It's too stuffy in there."

The two wandered around the first floor of the mall. Their daily meals and drinks were delivered by the butler, so they had nothing to buy. They just strolled and browsed. The heating inside was intense, and Yan Qingqiu rubbed her chin against her scarf. She walked deeper in and stopped at a cart to pick out a scarf, holding it up against Song Qingre. "What color do you want?"

"Whatever you think looks good."

Yan Qingqiu thought a black one looked great, but looking at Song Qingre again, it seemed too serious. In the end, she picked one in the same color as her own—bright red, festive to wear. "This one's great."

There were gloves for sale nearby. Yan Qingqiu spotted a pair with a strap that hung around the neck, but Song Qingre said, "Your gland needs one or two months to heal. That kind isn't suitable for you."

Yan Qingqiu sighed in disappointment. She'd wanted gloves like that since she was a child—she'd always envied other kids who had them. She flipped through a few more pairs and picked a pair for herself, then picked out a pair for Song Qingre too. Song Qingre said, "I don't need gloves. Just buy some for yourself."

"It's fine. It's so cold out; you should wear a pair too."

As she spoke, her head throbbed slightly, and a flash of an image passed before her eyes.

"Little Re, my dad gave me two hundred yuan to buy a scarf with. Yours is 48 and mine is 30. Then I'll buy gloves—one pair for you, one pair for me, both 25. So how much would I have left?"

"Did you fail your winter break math problems? Did your uncle send you to buy gloves?"

"No, the butler sent me. So tell me, how much is left?"

"I don't want gloves." Song Qingre said.

"It's so cold, why don't you want them? I think two hundred is enough for all this. I just don't know how much is left." She thought for a moment and said, "Let me buy them for you. If you don't buy them, I won't know how to do the math. 48 plus 25 isn't easy to calculate."

"You missed a number. You forgot to add your 30."

Song Qingre must have been in her early teens. Her hair was down, and she wore a high-neck sweater, with her neck wrapped snugly in the collar. Over it was a gray plaid coat. Her cheeks were rosy, she was very thin, her black bangs parted in the middle, and her eyes were dark and bright. She insisted again, "Mm, Qiuqiu's hands are warmer than gloves. I'll just hold Qiuqiu's hand."

A very short flash of a scene, passing through her mind.

She looked at the adult Song Qingre, who said, "I sometimes need to paint, so gloves are inconvenient. Just buy them for yourself."

"You don't paint that often." Yan Qingqiu said.

Song Qingre didn't want them, so she had to take the gloves herself.

The game world was just like her real world—prices inflated fast. Now, at a stall that wasn't even a brand, a pair of gloves cost over 50 yuan. They were almost too expensive to wear.

Yan Qingqiu bought a scarf and a pair of gloves. At the counter, Song Qingre picked up a small box from the shelf by the register. Yan Qingqiu glanced at the packaging and the words on it. She silently looked away. The two paid quietly and walked out. Yan Qingqiu wrapped the scarf around Song Qingre, then put on her own gloves. She wore one and gave the other to Song Qingre. The person who'd just said she didn't need gloves was now wearing one, and their ungloved hands were held together.

Just a few steps later, Yan Qingqiu lowered her head slightly, her chin pressing into the scarf, like a couple in love. No, that wasn't right either—a few hours ago they'd gotten their certificate. They were wives.

They got in the car and drove back to the hospital. Yan Qingqiu checked her phone; it was the butler.

She glanced at the messages. The butler had gone to deliver food and found them not in the ward, asking where they'd gone and when they'd be back.

Her hands were too cold to type, so she sent a voice message: "Went out to buy a few things. It's too cold."

The butler was still at the hospital, warning her: "Come back soon. You're still sick, and running around outside isn't good. What if you catch a cold in this weather? I've brought you something delicious."

Song Qingre drove back, still wearing the glove on her hand, mostly because it was cold.

Back at the hospital, the butler was watching TV and didn't ask many questions. He said he'd made braised pig trotters with soybeans.

Yan Qingqiu opened the container. The trotters were stewed until tender, and the soybeans looked well-flavored. She thought, how did you know I was craving pig trotters?

"If you're not hungry, just leave it in there to keep warm, and eat it when you are." Song Qingre said.

Yan Qingqiu indeed wasn't hungry.

She came back, kicked off her shoes, and burrowed into bed. The butler had put a heating pad in the bed ahead of time, so it was toasty inside. Yan Qingqiu curled up, hugging the heating pad and pressing her hands against it. When Song Qingre hung up her bag, she opened a gap in the blanket, indicating for her to come up too. But Song Qingre just sat on the edge of the bed, the quilt covering her legs.

It warmed up quickly. Song Qingre said, "I'll call the nurse over to see if the stitches can be removed."

There was a call bell by the bed. Yan Qingqiu guessed she had something to take care of outside, so she didn't say anything. When Song Qingre left, Yan Qingqiu asked softly, "Uncle Butler, when I was little and couldn't do math, did you give me money to go shopping to learn arithmetic?"

"Hm?" The butler thought for a moment and nodded. "Yes, that was a thing."

"Song Qingre told me about it, but I didn't believe her, thought it was made up, hahaha." Yan Qingqiu said this because she was afraid the System would erase her memories. Using Song Qingre's name should be safer—she still remembered some of the things Song Qingre had told her.

"Your math was terrible back then. Even basic addition and subtraction were hard for you, so we had you buy things to train your memory. But you did well on your high school entrance exam. At first, your father was ready to spend money to send you to high school, but you studied like crazy and got into Miss Song's school on your own. Ah, and because Miss Song was so outstanding, your pursuit of her was quite a struggle." The butler teased her.

"Hahaha." Yan Qingqiu thought, well, I've caught her now, and we went all the way to marriage. She's my wife. I'm amazing.

As she spoke, she kept looking outside, wondering if Song Qingre was coming back.

The butler asked softly, "Miss, are you and Miss Song together now?"

If it had been a few hours earlier, Yan Qingqiu would have said no without hesitation. Now she was stunned and didn't know how to answer.

"You're so nosy. We're in the ambiguous stage, the ambiguous stage. You get what that means, right?"

The butler nodded. "I think I get it a little."

Song Qingre was gone for half an hour and came back with a nurse. The nurse looked at them and shook her head. She examined them first, then walked over and had Yan Qingqiu take off the scarf. Yan Qingqiu's gaze fell on the top of Song Qingre's head. She had hoped that after going out, the thing above her head would disappear, but the glaring red words were still there.

In her own worldview, having something like that above a person's head was very strange.

"Yan Qingqiu, stop looking up like that. I can't examine you properly."

"Oh, oh, sorry, I spaced out." To be honest, she'd deliberately used the examination as an excuse to peek at Song Qingre's head.

She lowered her head, and the nurse said, "It's only been this long and you can't take your eyes off her. I've seen inseparable couples, but never ones stuck together like you two."

Yan Qingqiu felt Song Qingre chuckle. She silently thanked the nurse—if it weren't for the nurse's teasing, she wouldn't know how to answer when Song Qingre asked later.

The nurse finished the examination and said she would arrange for the stitches to be removed soon, and the doctor would come by.

Yan Qingqiu thanked her. Her neck was tired from holding her head down, so she looked for Song Qingre but didn't see her.

"I'm sitting right next to you." Song Qingre said.

Yan Qingqiu turned her head. Song Qingre was sitting in the chair by the bed, looking down at her phone. She said she'd just gotten a call from Ye Sichun—the Fu family had asked Ye Sichun to drop the lawsuit and was willing to compensate her for financial losses.

Yan Qingqiu felt she should talk to the System.

But it wasn't easy to find the opportunity. Song Qingre was always by her side, and she didn't want to suspect Song Qingre, because this was her newlywed wife.

She wanted to hear what the System had to say, to know what it meant by pulling this stunt. Earlier, the System had said they would monitor others to control the plot's development.

Their marriage had to go through the official system, so the System should have known they were getting married and deliberately released Song Qingre's profile to block it. How disgusting.

Yan Qingqiu took a deep breath. Anyway, she was married now—the System definitely hadn't seen that coming!

Yan Qingqiu had a feeling that even if she asked the System, it would just say it didn't know anything and tell her to figure it out herself. But how was she supposed to figure it out?

She was still thinking about this when evening came, and it was time to sleep.

"I'll go get some hot water and wipe you down." Song Qingre said.

For the past couple of days, Song Qingre had been bathing her thoroughly.

"Can I take a shower?" Yan Qingqiu asked.

"What about your neck?" Song Qingre asked.

"But not showering is really uncomfortable. I haven't bathed in three, no, four days. I feel like my body isn't warm anymore, and I smell bad."

Song Qingre looked at her, then went to the cabinet to get something. She took out a neck brace designed to cover the gland and put it on Yan Qingqiu. Yan Qingqiu's heart kept pounding. She tried hard not to think about it. Every time the thought crept in, she felt restless and scared.

Yan Qingqiu grabbed her clothes and went in. She turned to look at Song Qingre and said, "I'm going in first. Don't peek at a beautiful woman bathing."

Song Qingre laughed. "Is there any part of you I haven't seen?"

Yan Qingqiu snorted and hurried inside with her clothes. She called out to the System in her mind, but there was no response—it probably still couldn't connect. Yan Qingqiu frowned. She undressed and soaked in the bathtub, calling out again. This time there was a faint, crackling sound, like the System was forcing its way online but was still being disrupted by something outside.

Yan Qingqiu thought for a moment, then took out her phone and ordered a cake from a nearby platform.

The shop was close, only fifteen minutes away.

"Song Qingre, go downstairs and pick up my delivery for me." Yan Qingqiu called from inside.

"Didn't you eat tonight? Why are you ordering takeout?"

"Just go see." Yan Qingqiu said.

Song Qingre hummed in acknowledgment. Yan Qingqiu listened to her footsteps, waited until she'd left, and then called the System again. This time it responded.

The System came online aggressively and demanded, 【Did you and Song Qingre get the certificate?】

Yan Qingqiu had prepared her response. She soaked in the water, rose petals covering the entire surface. Having not bathed in days, she squinted in contentment. 【What was I supposed to do? She's killed so many hosts. What if I refused to marry her and she killed me? Do you know I almost blew it today?】

The System snorted smugly, gloating: 【Heh heh.】

Yan Qingqiu: Laugh at me, will you? You piece of shit. You think I want anything to do with you? I'll marry her, I'll marry her, just to spite you!

Yan Qingqiu continued: 【I'm not that smart, just an ordinary person. Honestly, if I see hope, I'll fight to survive. If I don't, then whatever. I'm going to die eventually anyway, so I don't care. Heehee. I'm done, I'm giving up. If I die, I'll die a romantic ghost. I'll fuck a villain murderer demon to death, and I'll do it hard. In the future, people will say I was a fearless badass!】

The System said, 【Enough. You've lost it, Yan Qingqiu. Do you think just because you're the heroine, we'd be afraid if you die? We've lost nine thousand hosts. We can afford to lose one more. Worst case, we pull in another obedient one.】

Yan Qingqiu said, "Don't lie to me. Don't think I don't know—if you could have pulled in another one, you would have done it long ago. You wouldn't be waiting until now to threaten me..."

【Don't speak out loud!】 The System warned.

Yan Qingqiu remembered what happened last time she slipped up. Song Qingre hadn't done anything to her.

Over nine thousand people... were they all waiting for one person to come back?

Last time she slipped up, Song Qingre hadn't pressed further... That didn't make sense. Unless she'd guessed, or already knew.

Yan Qingqiu pressed her lips together, pouting slightly, her fingers touching them. She thought of the scene at the civil affairs bureau today—Song Qingre had said she'd treat her wife well. She probably wouldn't kill her... I must be special.

A chill ran through her body, the water unable to warm her.

She said, 【Cut the crap. We only have ten minutes to talk. If Song Qingre comes back with the delivery, you won't get another chance to talk to me.】

Waiting for the System to speak was like waiting for food that was already cold.

Yan Qingqiu asked proactively: 【Spell it out. Does she know everything? That I'm a transmigrator, that I have a System?】

The System didn't answer. She raised her voice, and the System said, 【We're not sure exactly how much she knows, but every time our host reaches a certain point in the strategy, they die without warning.】

Strategy... so it meant 'conquering the male lead'.

Yan Qingqiu asked, 【Couldn't you monitor her before?】

The System said, 【Well... how should I put it? Before, as long as a host was with her, we could see what she was doing. Now, when a host is with her, we can't.】 The System really wanted to curse at her. This had been one of their advantages, but now, after that exchange for 365 wives last time, who knew she'd have a problem in the head and directly crash the monitoring function. Yan Qingqiu really wasn't right in the head.

Yan Qingqiu could feel it cursing her. She pretended not to notice and asked a question she cared about: 【So in your game, does every host death restart a new game, or do you just keep sending nine thousand hosts in one by one to do the task?】

The System didn't answer right away. It said, 【This is a game secret. The host cannot inquire at this time.】

Yan Qingqiu: 【Then how do I know if what you're saying is true or false?】

The System: 【Heh. You can try and see if she kills you.】

Yan Qingqiu said: 【I don't think I'll die. She treats me pretty well.】

The System: 【Don't you want to ask why she likes killing hosts?】

Yan Qingqiu didn't answer. She raised her hand and stirred the water, letting it flow over her body. She only wet her shoulders.

The System said, 【I've sent you the current character profile at 70% reward, but I still need to introduce her to you. Song Qingre is a major villain. A: Neighbor, housewife personality. She's coveted you since childhood and is a psychological pervert. In her basement, she's collected all your belongings—everything. Every host who found that place never came out alive. She wants to marry you, and she must marry you. B: Grim and psychopathic. If your parents support you, she'll kill your parents first. That's why most transmigrated hosts choose to keep their distance from the protagonist's parents, or even maintain a hostile relationship. C: Cold and untouchable. Her heat is ferocious, and she'll forcibly mark you. If you're not afraid of having children with a murderous maniac, you can try provoking her heat. D: The 'dom' look is just her appearance. Once she's married you and loses interest in A, she'll kill you.】

Yan Qingqiu said: 【Aren't you contradicting yourself? She'd have me bear her child, but kill me on the wedding night?】

The System said: 【Host, don't deliberately nitpick. I said, don't be stupid enough to voluntarily go bear her a child.】

Yan Qingqiu's lips moved. She still felt there was a contradiction. If Song Qingre killed people close to her, then why was Xing Xing still alive? From that angle, the System's words definitely had issues. And her father had agreed to let her get engaged to Fu Ye—her father had never said Song Qingre wanted to hurt him. Every time he was sick, Song Qingre was the one taking care of him.

The System had to be lying about something. She couldn't trust it fully.

Yan Qingqiu asked again: 【I have a question. Could it be your inference is wrong, and it's actually opposing her that gets hosts killed?】

The System answered without missing a beat: 【Heh. There have been hosts who tried to get along with her. Over all these years, there have always been hosts who liked her.】 Then it added another line: 【Don't think she won't touch the people around you. It's just that the day hasn't come yet.】

Those words chilled Yan Qingqiu to the bone. She's that terrifying, and you still threw me in here. Isn't that just trying to get me killed? Wanting Song Qingre to kill me? If you really cared about me, you would have told me her full profile from the start. Now you tell me at this specific moment to make me fear her, to make me stay away from her and have nothing to do with her.

The System stayed silent. Yan Qingqiu said: 【So, even though she's an NPC, she's actually an NPC you can't control. My coming to this world has something to do with her, right?】

The System was quiet for a moment, then spoke in a very serious tone that made Yan Qingqiu's mind feel like it had rolled through a snowfield, cold and biting: 【Host, have you been interfered with? Have you remembered something?】

Yan Qingqiu stayed alert. The System was probably probing whether her memories had been deleted. She said: 【What, are you afraid I might remember something?】

The System didn't respond. Yan Qingqiu felt her bathwater turning cold.

Afraid that I'd keep remembering those memories?

Those were Miss Yan's memories, right? Why delete them?

Finally, the System let out a cold laugh. It deliberately exposed the question Yan Qingqiu didn't dare ask. Why did Song Qingre kill hosts?

It said in a sinister tone:

【Because she's still waiting for Miss Yan to come home. She just keeps confirming whether you're the person she's looking for. If one day you mess up your act, she'll kill you.】

【Host, I've reminded you many times, hinted that she's full of lies and stops at nothing. If she kills you, it's your own damn fault, because you'll soon be one of 9,125 hosts.】

9,125.

9,125... God, that's terrifying. This number has to be fake. God protect me.

Yan Qingqiu wanted to ask more, but the bathroom door was knocked from outside. Song Qingre had returned. "I got it. Did you order a cake?"

"Yes." Yan Qingqiu cupped water and rubbed her face, hurrying to wash up.

If a statement were all lies, it would be easier to handle. But it was all half-truths, and she didn't know what to believe. The more she learned, the more confused she became. She shivered and wrapped herself in a towel before coming out. She met Song Qingre's eyes. Song Qingre said, "Hurry to bed and don't come down."

Yan Qingqiu trembled, her teeth chattering. She burrowed under the covers. Song Qingre brought the cake over, tore off the packaging, and opened the box. Inside was an Ultraman cake. Yan Qingqiu glanced at it and said, "I thought it was an Ultraman made of cake. Turns out it's just a small Ultraman figure."

She looked further down, and at the bottom, the shop had written in strawberry jam: 【Happy Newlywed】

The owner's handwriting was seriously ugly—crooked and sloppy.

Yan Qingqiu rolled over to get the candles. She watched Song Qingre tear off the delivery receipt and stuff it into her pocket. She looked at Song Qingre, and the System's words echoed in her mind.

【She likes collecting your things.】

Song Qingre said, "I like one line on it."

"Hm? What line?" Yan Qingqiu looked at her curiously.

Song Qingre showed her the receipt. The note read: Boss, I'm getting married today. Please write "Happy Newlywed."

It was just an ordinary, plain note. But Song Qingre folded the paper and put it into her coat pocket. She placed the candles on the cake. Yan Qingqiu turned off the lights and watched the beautiful woman through the candlelight. Song Qingre's eyes were closed, as if she was making a wish. Yan Qingqiu stared at her for a moment, then dove into the blanket. How embarrassing.

Actually... collecting things wasn't that bad, was it?

What was bad were those transmigrators who burned Song Qingre's things.

Even though the thing above Song Qingre's head kept flashing, she was both cowardly and afraid, yet still kept making excuses for Song Qingre.

Yan Qingqiu felt it was a bit shameful. Even at a time like this, she was still a hopeless romantic.

If there were an audience watching her be this lovesick, they'd probably call her an idiot and say she deserved it.

The candles burned quickly, half gone in no time.

Yan Qingqiu crawled out again and blew them out together with her.

They didn't finish in one breath and had to blow a second time.

Song Qingre cut the cake, and Yan Qingqiu sat up to eat. It tasted fine. Cream got on her lips, and she quickly licked it off. She looked at Song Qingre, who was popping a piece of yellow peach into her mouth. Yan Qingqiu asked, "Don't you have to pay back that hundred million?"

"Mm, I can withdraw another two hundred million. The foundation has agreed to release a portion of the funds first."

"When are you going to get it?" Yan Qingqiu asked.

"Not decided yet. There's no rush."

Yan Qingqiu finished her cake and smacked her lips. She got off the bed and said, "I'm going to brush my teeth. It's too sweet."

Yan Qingqiu didn't really like sweets; just a little was enough to bother her. She brushed her teeth in front of the mirror, listening to the sounds outside. Song Qingre was fiddling with something. When she looked back at the mirror, she saw her own brow furrowed. She reached up to smooth it out. After brushing, she came out and crawled into bed. "It's so cold. Go shower quickly."

Song Qingre hummed and went into the bathroom. Yan Qingqiu had just had her stitches removed, so she couldn't lie on her back. She lay on her side, first looking toward the bathroom, then slowly turning away. Her mind was a mess. Before long, she turned back when she heard the door open.

The thing above Song Qingre's head still hadn't disappeared. The moment she came out, the white light from the bathroom shone behind her, making the words above her head appear a vivid scarlet.

Song Qingre walked over slowly, lifting the blanket with a gentle touch that brought no chill. She lay down and said, "Sleepy?"

"No." Yan Qingqiu said softly.

"Today is December fifteenth."

"Mm." Yan Qingqiu thought, is it some kind of anniversary?

"Our wedding anniversary, silly." Song Qingre said.

"Mm, it is a day worth remembering."

Yan Qingqiu had eaten cake, and her stomach was full. She lay on her stomach for a while, then turned over again.

"Happy wedding night."

Yan Qingqiu looked at her, her eyes glancing at the words above her head again. She leaned in a little, pressed a kiss to Song Qingre's forehead, and said, "Goodnight." My new wife.

She thought it was better to say it aloud: "Goodnight, my new wife."

Song Qingre smiled, the happiest, most joyful smile of the day.

Yan Qingqiu was lost in her smile. Then she remembered something. When she'd transmigrated over, she'd groggily pushed open the door, and afterward... she thought she'd slept on a very soft bed for the night.

But later, Song Qingre had told her they'd slept together that night, and she'd woken up naked... Did something happen that night? Had her memories been erased by the System too?

The two lay in bed, and Yan Qingqiu felt a metallic taste of blood in her nose. It was probably psychological. She felt Song Qingre shift beside her, reaching out of the bed and rummaging through her coat.

After finding whatever it was, Song Qingre slowly moved closer to her.

Yan Qingqiu's heart raced. She thought, maybe I should get up now, confess everything to Song Qingre, and beg her not to kill me. Kowtow to her!

Anything for survival. It's not shameful! Treat it as a bow to heaven and earth, and another bow to the couple!

Just as she was about to speak, Song Qingre whispered in her ear, "It's our wedding night. Want to do it?" Yan Qingqiu heard her words and thought it was too rash. That wouldn't do. What if she stammered and didn't get the words out clearly?

She'd better draft her speech first, figure out how to tell her...

Yan Qingqiu asked, "How? The doctor said I can't... I mean, the doctor said I can't right now."

"...Oh." Song Qingre was holding the little box she'd bought at the supermarket. She turned on her side and looked under the covers. Yan Qingqiu's fingers kept fidgeting with each other. She said, "Even if it's you... I'd still react."

"Go to sleep." Song Qingre squeezed her fingers.

"If I'm asleep, are you going to do it yourself?" Yan Qingqiu asked reflexively, then bit her lip. She thought it sounded so perverted, but she couldn't help imagining it: sound asleep beside her, a perverted demon doing it beside her, using her fingers.

You want to fake sleep and peek at the demon's solo dance?

...Do you want to die?

No, no, no.

Yan Qingqiu, this isn't the time for being horny. Her persona runs too deep; you might not be able to handle her.

Yan Qingqiu thought about it, afraid it might really come to that, so she put her fingers in her mouth. She felt Song Qingre's gaze on her grow deeper. Song Qingre seemed about to speak, but her lips stayed pressed together. Yan Qingqiu felt like she was mouthing "Want it?", so she took her fingers out again. She did this back and forth a few times, listening to Song Qingre's heavy breathing, and then, in her extreme fright, she fell asleep.

Whatever you think about during the day, you dream about at night. And sure enough, she dreamed of the scene from when she first transmigrated. She groggily pushed open the door, and on a fragrant, soft bed lay someone... who seemed to have been waiting for her for a long time, crooking a finger at her.