Flirting Recklessly With the White Moonlight Will Get You Marked - Chapter 10

10:

“Oh… a ferocious alpha,” Song Qingre murmured, her lashes brushing against her lower lids. The motion triggered a line from the butler’s notes in Yan Qingqiu’s mind: “Her lashes veiled her skin as their interlaced fingers tightened.” The memory made her squirm, her legs threatening to give way again—if this continued, they’d end up kissing.

A muffled grunt escaped Song Qingre’s throat, likely from being repeatedly body-checked.

The commotion drew a crowd, all eyes fixed on them.

Song Qingre steadied herself, her lips twitching despite her composed posture. The waist of her dress now bore a few creases.

Yan Qingqiu wanted to dig a hole and die. Her mouth opened and closed wordlessly.

Fortunately, Song Qingre didn’t tease her further, simply adjusting the stray hairs at Yan Qingqiu’s temples. “Go inside first. I’ll join you shortly.”

Yan Qingqiu fled without responding, staggering into the exhibition hall like a drunkard. She didn’t dare look back, her face was on fire.

Outside, a new group arrived. Song Qingre’s smile faded as she turned to greet them.

“You invited everyone to your exhibition except me?” The speaker’s tone dripped with arrogance.

Song Qingre remained unruffled. “I heard Miss Luo disliked my work and discouraged others from purchasing. I feared my humble art might offend your refined tastes.”

Her poise was impeccable—courteous yet unyielding, refusing to debase herself for patronage. Luo Xi’s face darkened; she hadn’t expected such directness.

—

Inside, Yan Qingqiu’s skin still burned.

Alone, she sniffed her wrist. The lingering citrus scent tormented her nerves. Imagine that fragrance mingling with jade-cool skin. Not doing it a few hundred times would be a cosmic injustice.

Her entire right side had gone numb from the pheromone overload. Collapsing onto a sofa, she cringed at her earlier behavior.

Yan Qingqiu: Are you puppeteering my body?

System: We’d never! That was all your physiological response. We only control your life/death status, not your innate horniness.

…Shut up.

The girl who’d called out to her earlier took the adjacent seat. Su Xingjie tilted her head, baffled. “Why ignore me? Done being besties?”

Yan Qingqiu studied her—fashionable in a green blouse and cream trousers, her black hair braided, sunglasses perched on her nose.

Su Xingjie winced. “Why did you faceplant into Song Qingre earlier? I was cringing so hard I nearly evaporated.”

As Yan Qingqiu’s “closest friend,” Su had participated in vicious Song Qingre slander sessions. The chat logs were horrific.

Yan Qingqiu pursed her lips. “You’re the one who yelled. None of this would’ve happened otherwise.”

“You kept launching yourself at her! I panicked!”

“I—I was actually pinching her waist really hard. Didn’t you see her stumble?”

Su Xingjie frowned. Had she misread the situation? Without context, it looked like Yan Qingqiu throwing herself at Song Qingre.

Changing topics, Su touched her hair. “You dyed it back? I remember your first dye job, silver straight hair summer of senior year. You became a different person overnight. Gold suits you better.”

Yan Qingqiu hummed, her gaze darting as Song Qingre entered. In her fitted black dress, she conversed effortlessly, her smile deepening whenever their eyes met.

“Speaking of…” Su lowered her voice. “Why did you kiss Song Qingre that time?”

Yan Qingqiu’s ears burned. “Look at the paintings!”

—

The venue was impressive—prime location, lavish decor, waitstaff, media invites. The costs must’ve far exceeded 1 million. If Luo Xi’s sabotage succeeded, Song Qingre would be ruined financially and reputationally.

Art rarely turned profit, it relied on elite patronage.

Yan Qingqiu’s original plan: help sell the paintings → Song Qingre repays the 1 million → clean break → skip the gland removal plot.

She avoided Song Qingre while browsing, though their occasional eye contact made her toes curl.

Fu Ye arrived late, instantly becoming the center of attention. Luo Xi clung to his arm like a limpet, both dressed in matching black.

Disgusting. Fu Ye’s “white moonlight” devotion was laughable when he couldn’t even reject Luo Xi’s advances.

Fu Ye ignored Yan Qingqiu until he caught sight of her gold hair, a miniature sun amidst the oil paintings.

“Is that… Yan Qingqiu?”

Someone murmured, “Her gold hair’s stunning, like she stepped out of a masterpiece.”

Meeting his gaze, Yan Qingqiu delivered a glacial side-eye before striding away. She whispered to Su Xingjie, “Stick to the script. Watch me destroy them.”

Fu Ye discreetly shook off Luo Xi’s arm.

—

After circling the exhibit, both agreed: the paintings were magnificent. Song Qingre’s talent was undeniable.

Yet few were buying, Luo Xi’s influence loomed large.

Yan Qingqiu fumed. How can they listen to Song Qingre’s detailed explanations, watch her drink water after water, and still walk away? Even supermarket salesgirls deserved better.

Su Xingjie nudged her. “Luo Xi’s coming.”

Yan Qingqiu pointed at a wall piece, loud enough to be overheard. “They’re here to make trouble—pathetic. Too broke to buy art themselves, so they stop others.”

She played her role flawlessly, producing a bank card with a flourish. “Once they’re done posturing, I’m buying this entire wall. Let them sneer now, I’ll swipe this card when the dust settles.”

Her poker face was impeccable. Only she knew those cards were nearly empty.

“Fu Ye will have to chase me once I own Song Qingre’s entire collection. Luo Xi’s stupidity is giving them alone time. We’ll bide our time.”

She slung an arm around Su Xingjie. “Buy one piece to play along, but don’t upstage me. When Luo Xi trashes Song Qingre’s work, that’s my cue to swoop in with artistic critique. You back me up.”

Peeking over her shoulder, she “failed” to spot Luo Xi eavesdropping.

Su played along. “You’re a genius! I’ll Google some poetry for you to quote. No wonder Fu Ye chose you over his childhood friend Luo Xi.”

Yan Qingqiu sighed. With this IQ, I’d be the protagonist in another life.

Nearby, Luo Xi trembled with rage. “That gold-digging b1tch! She’s pretending to lend Song Qingre money!”

Her friends restrained her. “Check if she actually transferred funds first!”

—

Chaos erupted when Luo Xi started pointing at paintings. “This one! That one! I’ll take them all!”

Su Xingjie gasped. “Qiu-bao! Those were your picks!”

Yan Qingqiu set down her orange juice. “Sorry, this piece is mine. I’m buying it.”

The staff mediator chimed in: “This painting is priced at 300,000. Ms. Yan did express purchase intent first.”

Luo Xi smirked. “300k? That’s an insult. This is easily worth 500k.”

“500k?” Yan Qingqiu scoffed. “What do you know about art? This is ‘Clouds caress the brook, green grass teases the flowers’—you comprehend that?”

Luo Xi countered, “Actually, I do. This depicts a mountain stream.”

The crowd buzzed. If not for their notorious feud, one might think they were staging a publicity stunt.

Yan Qingqiu seemed outmatched, Luo Xi’s name literally contained “brook.”

“I understand it!” Yan Qingqiu elbowed Su Xingjie.

“Stars… dip into the river?” Su fumbled, secretly reaching for her phone.

“I bid 800,000!” Yan Qingqiu declared.

“900,000,” Luo Xi shot back. “Let’s be clear, I’m not here to compete. I genuinely admire Song Qingre’s artistry.”

The crowd murmured. Earlier, Luo Xi had boycotted the exhibition. Was this reverse psychology to monopolize valuable pieces?

Bidding reached 1.1 million.

Yan Qingqiu’s bravado faltered. Everyone knew her monthly allowance was 1 million. Her fingers twitched, her eyes reddening. “Fine. You win, b1tch.”