Flirting Recklessly With the White Moonlight Will Get You Marked - Chapter 26
26:
The popped-up link was sold out in seconds.
Everyone was stunned, including Yan Qingqiu herself, her fingers trembling slightly. The power of the gossip-hungry crowd was far greater than she had imagined.
Lawyer of Fu Ye and Fu Ye himself: “?”
The phone, which was being taken off the drawing board, fell onto the table with a delayed thud. It wasn’t until a sound came from inside that someone picked it up.
The people watching the live stream were dumbfounded. This wasn’t part of the pre-live setup, but damn, why did they suddenly want to buy it too?
Yan Fu’s secretary snapped back to reality first and asked, “Young miss… has she really never worked a job before? Why does it feel like she knows a bit about live streaming?”
Yan Fu was so startled that he stood up, signaling Yan Qingqiu to take it easy and not go too far. Rolling over eighteen models slathered in essential oil? Absolutely not.
As a father, he really couldn’t bear to watch.
Yan Qingqiu was a bit flustered, but she remained composed enough. Subconsciously, she tucked her hair behind her ear.
That gesture instantly revealed her bright red ears.
Seriously! With her dad around, she couldn’t let loose at all. It was just rolling over some models, wasn’t it? Why was she nervous? Hadn’t she seen the world?
Hah, an opportunity like this? Please, bring it on! If it weren’t for the live stream’s boundaries limiting her actions, she could be even bolder.
Yan Qingqiu glanced in Yan Fu’s direction, signaling her dad to sit down quickly and not interrupt her “work.”
With everyone’s impulse buying, there would definitely be refunds, which played right into Yan Qingqiu’s hands. She made a show of rubbing her fingers, lying down to roll, then sitting up to check the backstage data. Frowning, she stood up and started strategizing. “Alright, it seems you guys aren’t that interested. So many people are requesting refunds. Fine, I’ll be straight with you.
For those who want to see it, remember this: all the products today are sold out instantly, and there are no refunds. We’ll relaunch the link later, so come back. You’re making me lose face here. I’m completely out of the mood now. I was even planning to roll, you know. Normally, my dad would scold me for this, but you guys are such a buzzkill.”
Regarding everyone’s shock, Yan Qingqiu shrugged it off: when it came to live streaming, she knew a thing or two, but not much.
Come on, which streamer would dare to roll over eighteen models right off the bat?
The live stream audience grew larger, and her antics left everyone gobsmacked. They had guessed she’d use this to sell products, and that the cover images might not match the actual items, but no one expected this level of discrepancy.
It was too provocative.
Yan Qingqiu calmly picked up a bottle of essential oil. “This works great. I use it myself. Today, we’re giving away a thousand bottles as a perk for everyone. Let’s do another round, don’t refund this time, okay?”
The audience caught sight of her ears, shouting and cheering, making the atmosphere even livelier. At 1888 yuan, they had to grab one! Not for anything else, just to see a beauty roll over eighteen oil-slicked models.
The models lying on the floor were stunned, completely frozen. Before coming, they were only asked if they could handle tough work. They hadn’t expected… Well, it wasn’t entirely wrong. It was physical labor…
But had they known it was this kind of physical labor, they definitely wouldn’t have come without a pay raise!
The trending searches went wild. These eighteen models were relatively new faces, each with stunning figures if not faces. Rolling over them and back again?
Who could even imagine that?
Those who wanted to return their purchases hesitated. If they missed this, they at least wanted to see the rolling first.
Yan Qingqiu wasn’t naive. She didn’t believe they could sell everything in one go.
As long as someone refunded, she’d move on to the next product, heh heh.
Then her assistant raised a finger. “Miss, link number 4 is sold out… number 3 is gone too, and number 6 has some stock left…”
Yan Qingqiu panicked a little.
She glanced at the comments, and good lord, they were flying by so fast she couldn’t read them.
“Wait, wait a second… I don’t think we need to rush. Let’s introduce the products first.” Yan Qingqiu grabbed an item from the table. “This is our new product, the Princess Series. The Blonde Princess Series has eighteen sets, with covers designed by modern artist Miss Song Qingre, complete with her signature… take a good look.”
“Link number 18 is sold out,” the assistant said.
Yan Qingqiu couldn’t continue. She saw the comments:
[“Are you kidding me? You think we care about skincare? We care about whether you’ll roll over eighteen oil-slicked models!”]
[“If it sells out today and you don’t roll, hah, I’ll never trust the Yan Corporation again. But if you do roll, I’ll buy it every day. I’m your fan!”]
[“Yeah, yeah, it’s just 1888 yuan. Buy it ≈ roll already!”]
[“Damn, this move made my vision go black. Good thing my eyes are big enough to blink it back.”]
[“Wahhh, are there any links left to grab? I want to contribute!”]
Yan Qingqiu swallowed hard. She almost wanted the models to stand up. She reminded them again, “This is a pre-order. Pre-orders don’t allow deposit refunds, and shipping takes a few days. Do you really need this? Don’t just place orders randomly. Refunding and rebuying is such a hassle.”
As she spoke, she caught a comment:
[“I’ll give you a hundred million. Is this how you play?”]
Was that from Song Qingre?
No way, that’s too precise!
Yan Qingqiu could barely stand. All the words she’d prepared were useless. She didn’t even dare ask her assistant how much had sold. She was panicking. Her secretary handed her a glass of water, and she took a sip.
The comments were relentless: [“She’s panicking! She’s really panicking!”]
[“Roll, roll, roll! I want to see it!”]
Meanwhile, Fu Ye, watching the live stream, was dumbfounded. He felt like the “roll” comments were aimed at him. What was Yan Qingqiu doing? Rolling over eighteen models? He didn’t mind her selling products under his name, but he did mind her rolling over others.
This move was abnormal.
Why didn’t she talk about their love-hate story instead…
Fu Ye wanted to play dirty and report her live stream, but since she hadn’t rolled yet, reporting wouldn’t get her banned.
Yan Qingqiu was also thinking that if everything sold out, rolling might get her live stream banned… heh, that’d be great. Then she wouldn’t have to roll.
While streaming, her bag hung on a nearby chair, and her phone kept vibrating. A staff member asked if she wanted to check it, not because they were worried about urgent matters, but because the sound was audible in the live stream. People were saying she was too scared to roll over eighteen models.
Yan Qingqiu shot them a look, signaling them to turn off the phone and keep selling.
Soon, the distraction was overtaken by new notifications flooding the screen with gifts.
Her assistant reminded her to thank the donors.
Yan Qingqiu cleared her throat. “Thank you to FY for sending five Love Cruise gifts…” She frowned. FY?
Fu Ye was trying hard. He had his entire company hyping the topic, even hiring trolls to steer the conversation toward their “love story.” But it was completely drowned out by comments like, “Wow, the oil is still so slick!” and “I’m different, I want eighteen oiled-up models doing push-ups over me.” He was fuming and gave up.
Yan Qingqiu wanted to curse him out. Why was he showing off here? FY sent over a dozen more gifts. She was done. With that kind of money, just send it to her directly. Thanks, she wasn’t that noble. Give her five hundred million as a breakup fee, and she’d take it and say goodbye, friend.
Those Love Cruise gifts were infuriating.
Damn it, he kept sending them for half an hour.
Yan Qingqiu snapped, “Are you crazy? Still sending? Love Cruise, cruising your entire family of sixteen?”
After cursing, she quickly had her assistant ban the account. So annoying.
She glanced at the comments again and nearly broke down. Someone had added, [“She knows my family has sixteen people. She has me in her heart.”]
Soon, the comments exploded again, this time with sixteen Love Cruise gifts.
Yan Qingqiu was about to curse again but noticed a new name pop up.
She thought it over, money was still money. “Thank you to ‘Song’ for the Love Cruise gifts. You’ve spent a lot, everyone’s spent a lot. Let’s keep selling.”
She went to grab more products, and her assistant hinted at whether to ban the account.
“Alright, alright, thank you to Miss Song for the Love Cruise and Eternal Lover gifts. Hold on, Miss Song, let me introduce a product first.”
God, so embarrassing…
Maybe netizens just loved watching awkward moments, because more people flooded in. After introducing the product, the expensive package link went live and sold out instantly.
Yan Qingqiu’s heart raced. If this kept up, she might actually have to roll over eighteen models.
“Seriously, if it weren’t for you scumbags, I wouldn’t be out here selling. Now you’re sending Love Cruise gifts to disgust me? If you’ve got the guts, wire me five hundred million, no need to pay it back.”
After her rant, the viewer count spiked to eighty million. Was that number glitched? Yan Qingqiu was shocked.
Worse, everyone was shouting that she was scared, claiming they’d seen through her tricks.
Yan Qingqiu had the models stand up first.
The eighteen models stood together, a bit crowded, and the camera might not capture them all. A few formed a U-shape around her chair.
Yan Qingqiu leaned her arm on the armrest, strategizing.
She hadn’t made the models wear the same short tops and shorts as her. They wore short outfits designed by Su Xingjie, each style exuding a unique sexiness.
Her ambitions were big, not only was she selling products, but she was also advertising with her sisters.
“Are there any betas among you? If so, two or three step forward.”
The atmosphere was tense. No one could predict her intentions, and some were too shy to move. But a mixed-race Black supermodel stepped out, wearing a dark red tank top, black hot pants, and leather straps around her thighs, standing in front of Yan Qingqiu with a sultry vibe.
“I am.”
Another supermodel with golden-brown hair followed—both tall, mixed-race beauties.
“Okay! You two, come perform a live act.”
Yan Qingqiu pointed to the mat in the center. “You’re Miaomiao and Mo Andi, right?”
“Perfect for our product, and you’re gorgeous.”
Yan Qingqiu kept it professional, praising the models. As they lay down, new viewers in the live stream were baffled: Were they here for gossip, essential oils, or spicy models?
Yan Qingqiu rubbed her fingers. “Watch closely.”
She knelt on the ground, cracking her neck.
Then, with her hands on the Black model’s body, she did a push-up over her. Her blonde hair fell, brushing the model’s shoulder. Slowly, she shifted her arms to the other model’s body.
It looked effortless, her waist and back were taut, her movements fluid, her hips firm. The models beneath her were embarrassed, sensing a faint pheromone-like fragrance from her, their cheeks flushing.
The camera shifted.
Another push-up.
Her body barely touched the models, only her hair grazing them.
Everyone watched, stunned. She was really doing it.
Yan Qingqiu stood up, asking her assistant for a hair tie. She gathered her hair and tied it back, then extended a hand to pull the models up one by one, exuding confidence. People started frantically searching for her “third gender,” only to notice the “unmarried” status.
“See? No tricks. You order, I deliver. I said I’d roll, and here are the eighteen models. It’s up to who’s faster now.” Yan Qingqiu rubbed her face. “So moisturizing. Look at my face, all dewy.” She pulled the two models closer, who blushed at her touch. “Look at their skin, so smooth. Mmm, smells divine.”
The comments went wild: [“I want it too! I’m gonna buy!”]
The staff nearby could only gape.
Yan Fu’s emotions were complex, unsure whether to stop her. Was his daughter too precocious? No, she was already 24. He whispered to his secretary, “Go give her some water. Tell her not to push too hard. What if everything sells out? She’d really have to roll.”
The main concern was her secondary differentiation. What if rolling caused issues? He was worried about what would happen if everything sold out.
“Don’t worry… Miss added our entire warehouse to the links. She won’t sell out. To actually roll, she’d have to clear our entire inventory.”
Yan Fu nodded. The assistant reported, “Link 4’s 799 gift set is sold out. The 999 gift set has some refunds, with a hundred left to grab.”
Yan Fu sighed. “Qiuqiu’s working so hard.”
A staff member brought water, but something went wrong. A model ended up holding the water and accidentally spilled it on Yan Qingqiu’s chest, leaving it soaked.
The comments flew by, catching the moment.
Yan Qingqiu continued, “Life is about pushing limits. I’ll let you in on a secret: I also want to challenge my weakness, sleeping on the… nude bodies of eighteen models.”
“If we sell a lot this time, I’ll have my dad build me a giant bathtub, and they can carry me to bathe. Heh, that’s my weakness too.”
Yan Fu: “…”
“Ever since my daughter’s breakup, she’s been quite lively.”
The other executives understood: suppressed for so long, her true nature was finally out.
Yan Qingqiu had plenty of tricks. Her mouth could turn dry into “dewy.”
“We’ve got a ton of refunds in the backend. I’m not saying you guys are bad, but we were about to perform the ultimate stunt. It’s your buying and refunding that’s stopping me. Otherwise, I’d have rolled four or five times by now, streaming from their laps.”
A comment floated by: [“So bold. Aren’t you scared going home tonight?”]
Yan Qingqiu saw it.
Because the sender was her top fan, named: Song Song, the one who made out with me.
Damn.
“I’m taking a break. My dad’s calling me. I’ll be back.” So scary, terrifying.
Yan Qingqiu glared at the camera. This time, everyone could tell—no tricks, all real emotion. Yan Qingqiu genuinely wanted to roll over the models, just waiting for the right opportunity to be brave.
She shook her head and sighed, “Useless things.”
She meant the spending netizens, of course.
Stepping out of the live stream, she let others continue showcasing products. Her disdain somehow sold another link instantly.
Yan Qingqiu felt she’d only shown a fraction of her talent, yet two hours had passed, from 8 p.m. to 10 p.m.
“Dad… how’s the sales?” She had a sense but couldn’t resist wanting praise.
As they left the live stream, Yan Fu couldn’t hide his joy. “It’s selling great, better than our big shopping festival events. Customer service says we sold fifty products in two hours.”
Including the 1888 Blonde Princess set.
Yan Fu added, “But saying you’ll roll over the models, is that a marketing strategy? Why wasn’t I informed?”
Yan Qingqiu pursed her lips. “I came up with it myself.”
“Then you can’t actually roll over them.”
Yan Qingqiu frowned. “No way, Dad. You have to be honest, especially in business. If they clear out all our products with no refunds, I’ll roll! Honesty is key!”
Yan Fu was left speechless.
“Then… I’ll quietly take some items off the shelves…”
“Dad, go handle your work. I’ll keep streaming. Call if you need me. I know what I’m doing.”
Yan Fu did need to hold a meeting. With so many sales, they had to strategize, how many orders to fulfill, how to manage inventory, and what to do about potential refunds. It was chaotic.
He wanted to say more to Yan Qingqiu, but she was already back streaming.
A model handed her juice, another fanned her.
Yan Fu went to the meeting. If they hit a 70% payment rate, it’d be enough to turn things around. The only regret was the Blonde Princess set, priced at 1888, only brought in a hundred million. They should’ve aimed for two hundred million.
Such a missed opportunity with these sales.
But Yan Qingqiu could really sell…
Her perks were great too. The packaging featured oil paintings by Song Qingre, eighteen series in total, with the first five autographed, the first five thousand with printed signatures, plus gifts like cards, gold-threaded pendants, and a metal puzzle draw.
All things girls loved. Yan Qingqiu had the consumers’ hearts in her grasp. Their products were top-quality, and aside from her own creations, the prices weren’t even that high.
From a measly thousand in sales to a peak of three hundred thousand.
The secretary leaned in to Yan Fu. “The live stream team asked if we should list the essential oil, the one used on the models.”
Essential oil sales had been poor, with low stock.
“List it!” Yan Fu nodded.
Soon, the secretary reported, “Miss had six models do single-finger planks over them, and it sold out instantly. They’re asking if there’s more.”
“None left, not a drop.”
The three hundred links didn’t all sell out, but the crowd cleared two hundred in three hours.
By 11:30 p.m., Yan Qingqiu was ready to end the stream, not before mocking the netizens and expressing regret for not challenging her “weakness.”
The netizens who spent money to see her challenge it: “Qiuqiu, come back tomorrow!”
It was late, and Yan Qingqiu felt a bit guilty. She looked at the models behind her. “Which ones haven’t I gone over?”
Eight stepped forward.
She nodded. “If anyone doesn’t want to come tomorrow, tell Director Su. I’ll have her swap you out. Thanks for your hard work.”
She secretly hoped for new models—more exciting.
After the stream, she didn’t let them all leave. It was late, so treating them to dinner seemed fair.
Miaomiao said, “Director Su just arrived. She’s been waiting for you.”
Yan Qingqiu looked toward the door, touched her nose, and waved at Su Xingjie. “Hey, Xingxing, sorry for doing bad things to your models.”
Su Xingjie, hands in her pockets, stared at her.
Then she reached out and pinched Yan Qingqiu’s face, nearly deforming it. Yan Qingqiu looked at her, stunned, but didn’t cry out. “What’s wrong?”
Su Xingjie withdrew her hand, looking down into her eyes seriously. “Qiu-bao, you’re not really going to roll over eighteen models, are you?”
Yan Qingqiu thought she was worried about the models. She hadn’t explained beforehand, so she whispered, “Don’t worry, I’ve got it under control. Haha, I listed my dad’s entire warehouse. They’ll never clear it out, especially with all the refunds. Sell out? In their dreams.”
Su Xingjie wasn’t asking about that. She just found it odd, how did Yan Qingqiu come up with this? It wasn’t her style!
“What if they do?” Su Xingjie asked.
Yan Qingqiu knew netizens well. She genuinely believed they couldn’t clear it. She’d listed three hundred links, and even with the Blonde Princess and essential oil sold out, there were refunds and tons of products left. No way they’d manage.
Su Xingjie also knew netizens. Three hundred links? If Yan Qingqiu had done pre-orders or said she’d take on eighteen models, they’d have emptied the company today!
The netizens were just late because of the clickbait title. Who cares about love stories these days? They wanted something spicier!
“Then I’ll roll. Not just one round, ten! Earn a few billion in one night. Why hesitate?” Yan Qingqiu felt these executives lacked her vision. With money to be made and the family business saved, what was rolling over some models? Why dawdle?
Packing up, Yan Qingqiu slung her beaded bag over her shoulder and left the lounge, not forgetting to call Yan Fu.
“Dad, I’m going to eat with Xingxing. She and her eighteen models worked hard today. My treat.”
Yan Fu was still in a meeting. The executives wanted a celebratory banquet and suggested inviting Yan Qingqiu, but Yan Fu didn’t want his darling in a booze-fueled scene. This was perfect.
“Go ahead. Bill it, and I’ll reimburse you. Call Butler Dong to pick you up after.”
“Got it. Don’t overwork yourself.”
Hanging up, Yan Fu set his phone down, feeling lighter. His once-not-so-obedient but lively, caring daughter was back.
Still uneasy, he called security to ensure her safety, in case Fu Ye showed up to harass her.
As Yan Qingqiu and Su Xingjie chatted and headed downstairs, Su Xingjie went to get the car.
Yan Qingqiu stood at the entrance, feeling like she’d made a name for herself today.
Downstairs, she saw a familiar car.
It wasn’t flashy, just a sleek black model with two overlapping “M” logos. She glanced at it for a second, and the headlights flashed with her gaze.
Clearly signaling someone was inside. Yan Qingqiu couldn’t pretend not to notice. Su Xingjie called, “Let’s go, I’ve booked a spot.”
Yan Qingqiu stepped forward, but the car horn blared. She took another step, and the car inched forward. Moments later, the door opened, and the person inside leaned out, locking eyes with her in silence.
“What, Miss Yan’s got such a big ego now?” The person inside looked out. Before Yan Qingqiu could speak, she said softly, “Your master’s here to pick you up, and you won’t even go home?”
Oh no. Yan Qingqiu’s legs froze. All the words she’d prepared were useless.
Forget it, I’m going, I’m going.
She bent to get into the passenger seat, then hesitated, closing the door and moving to the back. Better not provoke Miss Song. If she got too annoyed during rush hour, it could be dangerous.
Su Xingjie, not seeing her come over, noticed
Song Qingre’s car and hurried to knock on the window. “Hey, Qiu-bao, you’re not coming?”
The front window rolled down, revealing Song Qingre’s profile. She said, “You drive ahead. My car will follow.”
Su Xingjie looked at Yan Qingqiu, who nodded subtly.
Yan Qingqiu rested her hands on her knees, sitting directly behind Song Qingre, who couldn’t see her, but she could see Song Qingre’s shoulders.
Regret hit, she should’ve sat in the passenger seat to see Song Qingre’s face and gauge her mood.
Neon lights streamed in. Yan Qingqiu glanced ahead, then back, finally pulling out her phone.
One look, and she shut it off. The media and business rivals were writing trash to sabotage her, disgusting!
What was this about her “battling eighteen oiled-up wild models, drenched in sweat”? Or “panting while planking over eighteen tender models”?
Has Song Qingre seen this?
—Wait, so what if she did? There was nothing between her and Song Qingre. At most, Qingre was her creditor.
—Please, this wasn’t just any creditor.
Her mind screamed. She slammed the power button. Fine, I won’t turn it on.
The car drove smoothly. Yan Qingqiu thought
Song Qingre might find an excuse to head back to the villa, but she actually drove to the Xitu Lanya restaurant.
Song Qingre parked and politely asked, “Can I join you for dinner?”
Yan Qingqiu nodded. “Sure, you’re…”
She closed the car door, noticing someone approaching. “You’re the sponsor.”
Song Qingre nodded. “Not bad. Sponsored a bit too much, though.”
Her words carried weight. Yan Qingqiu bit her tongue.
A hundred million, Song Qingre was the VIP guest tonight, the no-strings-attached sponsor.
Yan Qingqiu pocketed her phone. She was gonna treat them, and if Song Qingre had driven back, she’d have been mortified.
Luckily, Song Qingre was considerate.
At Xitu Lanya, Su Xingjie tried to stand by Yan Qingqiu, but the vibe was off. Yan Qingqiu seemed hyper-aware of Song Qingre’s mood.
At the round table, the models chatted lively, but the three others were silent, lost in thought.
During dinner, Yan Qingqiu overheard a call, not hers, but Su Xingjie’s. A partner had seen the news and asked if Su Xingjie had sent eighteen models to Yan Qingqiu.
The call went on, and Yan Qingqiu heard a familiar voice angrily say, “That blonde b1tch is at it again. Cost me another half a million.”
Yan Qingqiu frowned, leaning toward Su Xingjie.
“Why’s that voice so familiar?”
“It’s Luo Xi, Fu Ye’s childhood friend who fought us for that painting,” Su Xingjie said. “Hold on, I’ll curse her out.”
“No need,” Yan Qingqiu shook her head. “Why argue with a customer? Think about it, sister. My products combined don’t even hit ten thousand, yet she’s spent hundreds of thousands. That’s my number-one fan. Can’t offend her. We need to think bigger.”
She spread her thumb and forefinger wide,
grinning. “Let her curse. She’s just calling me a blonde b1tch.”
Su Xingjie was shocked. Before, if Luo Xi insulted her, Yan Qingqiu would’ve gone off, ready to bash her head in. Now she was so magnanimous, stepping back for money?
No, that’s too low-class.
She was earning money standing tall, making
Luo Xi scream in frustration.
Su Xingjie hung up, puzzled. “Is Luo Xi crazy? Why’s she spending in your live stream?”
Yan Qingqiu didn’t say it, with Song Qingre sitting nearby.
She figured Luo Xi also wanted to see her roll over eighteen models.
But Luo Xi’s appearance was a turning point. Yan Qingqiu said, “It’s because I helped Song Qingre sell that painting last time. Pissed her off, so we’ve got beef. She’s probably trying to mess with me, but her brain’s fried from anger, haha.”
Yan Qingqiu stuffed food in her mouth, noticing Song Qingre wasn’t eating much, just cutting her meat.
Her heart raced. Song Qingre caught her gaze, took a bite, and said, “Thanks.”
Thanks for what?
Yan Qingqiu couldn’t figure it out. After dinner, she put the bill on her dad’s tab and rode back with Song Qingre, this time in the passenger seat, stealing glances at her.
Song Qingre, gripping the wheel, asked,
“Streaming again tomorrow?”
“Yeah, we haven’t sold out. Tomorrow’s peak time.”
She hummed, saying no more. The car stopped at the gate, and the house’s sensor lights came on, but the yard was empty.
Yan Qingqiu wondered if a surprise was waiting.
Entering the house, she looked around as her phone buzzed. Su Xingjie texted, asking if she got home and if they needed the eighteen models tomorrow.
Reading the message, Yan Qingqiu walked in. Song Qingre turned on the light, and as Yan Qingqiu reached for it too, they bumped. The light didn’t turn on, and her phone fell.
The phone’s light illuminated their faces.
Yan Qingqiu froze, not daring to pick it up.
Song Qingre looked at her, saw she didn’t move, and bent to retrieve it, brushing off the screen’s dust.
Before she touched anything, a news alert popped up: [“Yan Qingqiu and Eighteen Oiled Models in Action…”]
Song Qingre stared at it. Yan Qingqiu stared at the phone, wishing she could retract the screen. The real-time trending topics kept scrolling, dancing on the edge of danger.
[“Will Yan Qingqiu react by rolling over eighteen models? Not me, I’d lose it after one.”]
Yan Qingqiu: “…”
Buddy, put your pants on, I’m tripping over you.
She knew the calm night was about to become a storm.
Song Qingre saw the comments too. She turned on the light, brightening the living room, their shadows cast on the floor. She sat on the sofa, and Yan Qingqiu silently followed.
Song Qingre read aloud, “Rolling back and forth, chest to chest, that kind of rolling? Can you pause for a minute during the face-off? Women’s bodies fit so well together, so thrilling.”
“…Stop reading.” Yan Qingqiu’s toes curled.
“I’m different. I want to roll over Miss Yan.”
Song Qingre’s voice was warm as she continued,
“Ah so exciting, I love it. Can Yan Corp hold a lottery for a chance to roll over the models? I want to roll over eighteen too.”
That “ah” was a bit seductive. Yan Qingqiu went numb.
“Sure,” she blurted, then wanted to slap herself. Loose lips!
Song Qingre paused, not reading further, and said, “Watching Miss Yan do single-finger push-ups over the models, I wondered how long you could hold one over your master.”
Tough question.
The living room was vast, yet silent. How did Song Qingre clear everyone out? The maids and butler should’ve been there, fawning over her like before, but no one was around. Someone save her!
It was autumn, not cold, but she felt a chill.
Song Qingre seemed to read her mind. “I told them you were tired and needed rest. The genius who saved the Yan family deserves it. I’ll give you a massage tonight so you can sleep early.”
Yan Qingqiu looked up slightly, emboldened by “genius who saved the Yan family.” “You’re not criticizing me?”
“Why would I? You sold so much, breaking records.”
Yan Qingqiu didn’t know that. She thought she’d just passed. Being praised felt good.
Song Qingre countered, “Did you think I’d threaten or scare you?”
Yan Qingqiu’s lips parted. Wasn’t that the case?
“Am I that kind of person to you? That’s a bit sad.”
Song Qingre sighed, smiling helplessly and setting down the phone. “All my kindness for nothing.”
Yan Qingqiu thought, if she were the master, the creditor, and her little slave challenged eighteen models, she’d be furious. She’d call the models over or storm the scene to drag the slave away.
Then… deal with them harshly.
Of course, that was her brain’s spicy warning. She didn’t dare act on it.
Studying Song Qingre, whose expression was calm, she handed back the phone.
Song Qingre asked, “So, Miss Yan, may I throw a fit now?”
Maybe it was the “Miss Yan” that made her oversensitive, but every time Song Qingre said it, her body tingled, nerves buzzing from her neck to her spine.
Yan Qingqiu wasn’t dumb.
She knew Song Qingre wasn’t as gentle as she seemed.
How did she blend gentleness and threat so seamlessly?
Yan Qingqiu could’ve been defiant, but that gentleness drowned her. If Song Qingre had scolded her, she could’ve snapped back, even burned bridges—I sold it for my dad, who are you to judge? I’ll pay you back a hundred million!
Song Qingre stood from the sofa, heading upstairs. Their footsteps were light. When she stopped, Yan Qingqiu stopped.
“I’m not scared. I’ll follow you in.”
“Are you sure, Miss Yan?”
…
“Are you here?”
Why was she suddenly asking that?
Pushing open the door, a faint scent of essential oil filled the air.
The company’s essential oil inventory was depleted, so this must be the last batch at home.
Song Qingre turned on the light, which wasn’t very bright. The two stood by the bed, talking. Song Qingre gestured for Yan Qingqiu to sit, but Yan Qingqiu chose to stand.
She looked at her, fingers clutching a tissue. Yan Qingqiu opened her palm, unsure what Song Qingre was up to, and extended her fingers.
Song Qingre wiped her fingers meticulously, cleaning each one thoroughly, even tracing the lines of her palm.
Yan Qingqiu knew it was because those two fingers had touched the floor.
“Want me to wipe down your whole body?” Song Qingre asked.
Yan Qingqiu’s legs nearly gave out. Luckily, she was tough as nails, or she’d have dropped to her knees in a dramatic slide. She shook her head, muttering, “No need. I didn’t touch them. I haven’t rolled over the eighteen models yet.”
“Then after you roll over them, shall I clean you inside and out?” Miss Song asked gently, her fingers teasing the blonde hair falling over Yan Qingqiu’s chest.
Her hair had touched the models’ bodies.
Yan Qingqiu mumbled an agreement, then instantly regretted it. Too late, Song Qingre said, “You’re really planning to roll over eighteen models? Impressive.”
Yan Qingqiu wanted to cry. Wasn’t this entrapment? A textbook setup?
Seeing her dejected silence, Song Qingre comforted her, “It’s fine. I’m looking forward to it too.”
Yan Qingqiu caught the implication, Song Qingre was looking forward to her rolling and to cleaning her up afterward… Deadly.
Thankfully, she’d cleverly set an impossible task for the netizens. She wasn’t doomed yet. She quietly breathed a sigh of relief.
“I’m about to get angry,” Song Qingre said, gripping her fingers.
“Huh?” Yan Qingqiu let out a startled yelp as she was pulled into Song Qingre’s embrace. She struggled, but Song Qingre didn’t rush to restrain her. Instead, she stood up, and when Yan Qingqiu tried to stand, Song Qingre grabbed her wrist, flipping her over. Yan Qingqiu landed face-down on the bed, her forehead against the sheets.
“What are you doing? Careful, I’ll scream.”
“Go ahead and scream. It’ll only excite me more,” Song Qingre said. Yet Yan Qingqiu could sense that it wasn’t just excitement, Song Qingre seemed to be hiding her face.
Was it that scary?
Was there something in her eyes…?
Smack—
“Mm…”
Yan Qingqiu tilted her neck slightly. Song Qingre’s hand pressed against her nape. She’d actually spanked her.
This jerk…
“I was actually a little upset today,” Song Qingre said, her gentle voice cutting like a knife against Yan Qingqiu’s ear.
“You can say if it hurts…”
“Or you could say, ‘Sorry, sister, I shouldn’t have talked about rolling over other models.’”
Yan Qingqiu bit her lip, forehead pressed into the sheets, her fingers gripping so tightly they nearly tore the fabric. She whispered, “I was naughty… I deserve it.”
She said it obediently, her fingers clenching the sheets, breathing heavily, her back arching slightly as if to say, “Wait till I get back at you”.
Her current submission seemed to also say: Do whatever you want to me, hit harder if you like, but I won’t admit defeat…
Song Qingre’s grip noticeably softened. Yan Qingqiu squirmed twice but didn’t seize the chance to escape. She knew her dad would be home today, Song Qingre wouldn’t dare go too far.
Yan Qingqiu turned her head to look at her, though she couldn’t see clearly, her blonde hair sticking to her cheek.
Song Qingre thought she was about to curse—after all, Miss Yan had a sharp tongue.
Yan Qingqiu turned, her breath blowing the hair off her cheek, her chest heaving, her breathing growing warmer.
Her mouth was indeed sharp and stubborn, refusing to admit fault. Instead, she provoked, “If you’re mad, hit me a couple more times… Go ahead, make me bloom.”