After Being Bitten By Top-Tier O, Flop A Went Viral - Chapter 39

39: The Fox Walking the Dog

“What’s wrong?” Qin Que noticed that Yan Qing wasn’t taking the spatula and was just staring at her.

Being stared at by those eyes that could make even a dog feel deeply loved made her a little uneasy.

Had she gotten cream on her face?

“Nothing.”

Before she could confirm, Yan Qing had already taken the spatula from her hand, a faint smile in her voice. “It’s just been a long time since anyone said something like that to me.”

It really had been a long time.

When her mother was alive, she was the only one in the entire Li family who would coax her like this. But limited by her abilities, the phrase “Mom will protect you” was more of a comforting sentiment than anything else.

Yet Yan Qing still cherished it and was willing to restrain herself for it.

But time, heartless as it was, would eventually strip away even this meager comfort.

After her mother passed, she fled the Li family. At first, the only person she could rely on was herself. Though life was precarious, it was also unprecedentedly free. With no one to protect her, there was also no one to restrain her.

Later, as more people came into her life and her fame grew, she found herself entangled in increasingly complex webs of interests, treading carefully once again.

Though Xu Li and Ai Jia had criticized her reckless behavior more than once, she could say with a clear conscience—compared to what she originally wanted to do, this was already a toned-down version. For example, she could have just slapped Dai Yuchen twice but instead patiently reasoned with the trash.

Image, socializing, box office, public preferences—most of the time, her peers were more concerned with what “Yan Qing” should do rather than what she wanted to do.

Such was the world. To gain something, you had to give up something else. She had traded a part of her freedom for the power to fight against those she despised, so she had no right to complain.

Besides, it wasn’t all bad. Out of a hundred things, at least one was good.

If she hadn’t attended that utterly uninteresting Golden Gala, she wouldn’t have been ambushed, but she also wouldn’t have met Qin Que.

Yan Qing had grown accustomed to this life, accustomed to controlling herself. Now, suddenly, someone was telling her, “Go wild, I’ve got your back,” and it felt a little unsettling.

No one around her dared to say such things, probably because they already found her current level of capriciousness headache-inducing.

It wasn’t like she hadn’t fantasized about an omnipotent savior appearing, but every time, the conclusion was the same—the only person who could take on that role was herself.

And now, here that person was—not another version of herself, but a seemingly soft and bouncy alpha.

Not a bad surprise.

Though Qin Que’s ability to indulge her was limited right now, with proper nurturing, who knew what other functions could be unlocked? Maybe she could bring her into Bosen to handle some of the…

Don’t just casually slot people into your life plans without their permission.

Yan Qing shook her head, refocusing on the now-simplified cake in front of her, trying to smooth it into a more perfect circle than Qin Que’s.

“Hold it like this—it’s less shaky.”

Qin Que leaned over, adjusting her grip.

The alpha’s hands were slightly larger than hers, fingers long and even, with a thin layer of calluses at the joints that tickled faintly when they brushed against her skin.

Yan Qing glanced sideways, taking in Qin Que’s gentle profile, her lowered eyes now looking particularly tender.

It was hard to tell whether she was looking at her hands or the cake.

Yan Qing doubted Qin Que even realized how intimate their current distance was. From a certain angle, it might look like Qin Que was embracing her from behind.

Like that classic movie scene where one person guides the other’s hands in pottery-making.

The next step was supposed to be a passionate kiss, wasn’t it?

Yan Qing knew that if she pointed this out now, she’d instantly get a steamed alpha, given Qin Que’s thin skin.

But perhaps because that sunlit profile was too beautiful, she held back her mischievous impulse for once.

Qin Que watched as the cake gradually became evenly coated in white, her peripheral vision catching sight of their overlapping hands.

The woman’s hands were slightly paler than hers, seemingly even smoother and more delicate than the cream beneath them.

“Done.”

She admired the final product, feeling it was even better than her last attempt.

“Heh.”

A soft laugh sounded by her ear.

She turned her head in confusion, falling into that gentle ocean.

The woman’s cat-like eyes curved, sparkling with mischief.

Too close.

She instinctively stepped back, bumping into the counter behind her. The bowls on the table clinked together, echoing her unsettled heart.

Was it the pheromones?

Over the past few days, she’d gradually grown accustomed to Yan Qing’s scent, and her wandering thoughts had become fewer.

So why, at this moment, did she suddenly want to kiss the woman’s eyes?

Qin Que turned her head, one hand steadying the still-vibrating bowl, the other instinctively moving to scratch her head before realizing she was still wearing gloves. She awkwardly lowered it, stiffly changing the subject. “Let’s start decorating. What do you want to draw?”

Perhaps sensing that her face was about to combust from blushing, Yan Qing didn’t press further. She picked up the melted chocolate beside her and waved it. “Guess?”

Qin Que was in no state to guess. Fortunately, Yan Qing started drawing right after asking. She walked over to look, this time deliberately maintaining distance.

The pure black chocolate outlined a small, simple figure—a woman with a ponytail. Blue syrup gave her clothes, while the chocolate dotted two small eyes and a checkmark for a mouth on the round face.

Qin Que: “…”

She silently stared at Yan Qing, who was clearly struggling to hold back laughter, her hands shaking as she held the piping bag.

But that didn’t stop her from putting down the chocolate and picking up the strawberry jam.

Then, right in front of Qin Que, she dotted three red spots on each of the little figure’s cheeks.

The woman’s smile was full of triumphant mischief. “Still can’t guess?”

Qin Que turned to look at the clear sky outside, temporarily refusing to answer.

“Eh? Isn’t that Sister Qin?” Yan Yuzhen, who had already ruined two batches of cookies and was now wandering the classroom out of boredom while waiting for Jin Shuo to knead dough, happened to pass by and immediately blurted out the answer. She even pointed at the jam dots and praised, “Especially the cheeks—so lifelike! It’s exactly her!”

Qin Que: “…”

How on earth do you see “exactly her” in that stick figure? Is it because of those two blushing cheeks?

She reluctantly turned back, meeting Yan Qing’s muffled laughter. The embarrassment in her heart melted away under that smile. “Do I really blush that easily?”

Yan Qing shrugged, gesturing toward Yan Yuzhen as if to say, See? It’s not just me.

Qin Que pursed her lips and grabbed the chocolate sauce.

It’s not like only you can draw.

She quickly drew a figure even smaller than the first one, adding clothes but hesitating when it came to the hair and eye color.

Unlike her, Yan Qing’s hair was chestnut, and her eyes were an exceptionally rare indigo blue. If she painted them black, could it still be called Yan Qing?

“Hmm? What’s wrong?” Yan Qing noticed the alpha pausing mid-stroke, turning to stare at her intently.

Qin Que didn’t answer. Instead, she walked over, removing her disposable gloves as she went.

The alpha, half a head taller, looked as solemn as if she’d made some monumental decision, exuding an intimidating aura at first glance.

Yan Qing, now under Qin Que’s shadow, instinctively tensed. “You—”

Before she could finish, Qin Que had already reached her side, pinching a small strand of hair by her ear and examining it closely with scientific precision before letting go and rushing back to the counter to mix food coloring.

All she left behind was a breezy, “For reference.”

Yan Qing stood frozen until Qin Que had nearly matched the color, only then exhaling the breath she’d been holding.

Amused and exasperated, she walked over, ready to tease but finding that Qin Que had actually gotten the color nearly perfect.

Even she might not have done better.

What did this person do before?

The thought flashed through her mind as Qin Que added the hair and stood up to look at her again.

This time, Yan Qing was prepared, standing calmly with a practiced smile, ready for the staring contest.

Yan the Great Actress has dominated the film industry for over a decade. Did she really think she’d be intimidated by a little eye contact? Ridiculous.

…Is she staring a bit too intently?

Under the alpha’s dark gaze, time seemed to stretch endlessly.

So long that Yan Qing could feel her face slowly warming.

She knew Qin Que didn’t mean anything by it—her gaze was solely focused on her eyes.

But why did it feel so unnerving?

“It’s no use. I can’t get it right.” After a long while, Qin Que sighed in defeat, looking away.

The color of Yan Qing’s eyes was too beautiful and too unique, like a pair of shimmering gemstones under sunlight.

Even if she had a full set of paints, she doubted she could replicate it, let alone with just a few bottles of food coloring.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s just a stick figure anyway,” Yan Qing reassured, her earlier perfectionism nowhere to be seen.

“I just thought it’d look better that way,” Qin Que mumbled, only to hear another soft laugh.

She turned to see Yan Qing’s eyes crinkling again, the woman saying lazily, “Do you really like my eyes that much?”

Qin Que gazed into that sunlit sea and couldn’t bring herself to say anything else. “Yes. Because they’re really beautiful.”

Now it was Yan Qing’s turn to be speechless.

Her lips parted and closed before finally settling on two words: “You, ah.”

Fondly exasperated.

In the end, Yan Qing took over, using blueberry jam to dot two small round eyes on “herself.”

“Time’s almost up,” Qin Que said, checking her watch. Only five minutes remained.

“Seems a bit plain,” Yan Qing mused, looking at the two lonely figures on the cake. She picked up the strawberry jam and connected their hands with a red line.

The two separate figures were now linked, forming a cohesive picture that looked much more harmonious.

“Mm. The red string of fate—fits our show’s theme perfectly,” Yan Qing said, satisfied, putting down the piping bag. She turned to Qin Que, then leaned in with amused surprise. “Really? You’re blushing over this?”

“N-no,” Qin Que averted her face, practically telegraphing her denial, though she couldn’t help complaining inwardly.

It’s because you’re saying such things.

The red string of fate… as if we’re really going to be together.

Remembering Yan Qing’s earlier teasing about her blushing, she added a few more strokes to the small figure with chocolate sauce.

The little figure now sported a pair of pointed ears and a plump tail, its smile vaguely resembling the white fox plush on Yan Qing’s desk.

She met the woman’s surprised gaze without flinching, though her words stumbled. “A-adding animal features makes it cuter.”

“Alright, you started this,” Yan Qing said, looking like Qin Que had just made a grave mistake. She quickly added details to Qin Que’s figure.

The little figure now had rounder ears and a thin, wagging tail, complete with motion lines.

Time was up, and all contestants brought their creations to the long table at the front.

“This is…” Nie Sijun stared at the design on the snow-white cake, her expression complicated as she glanced at the pair.

Yan Yuzhen was more direct. “A fox walking a dog?!”

The room fell silent.