I Turned Out to Be the Dead White Moonlight of the Canary - Chapter 11

Everyone was stunned as they watched the man catch fire.

Before the flames could reach his face, Song Shi’an tapped his cheek with the lighter: “Be good now, don’t move.”

“You won’t burn to death.”

It had been a while since Song Shi’an last mingled in their circle, so some had forgotten the consequences of provoking her.

Zhu Yuandong and Yan Wuyou remained seated inside, lazily sipping their drinks. “I told you,” Zhu Yuandong said, “there’s no way Song Shi’an would tolerate anyone challenging her.”

“Even if Yan Sheng isn’t exactly her girlfriend, she’s still someone Shi’an brought here. Bullying her people? With Shi’an’s temper, did they really think she’d let that slide?”

Yan Wuyou chuckled. “After all this time around Shi’an, if they still don’t get that, they deserve what’s coming.”

“These male omegas all think they have a chance with her. But Shi’an’s never even said she likes men—where do they get this confidence?” Zhu Yuandong sounded genuinely puzzled.

Outside, the burning man tried to dive into the pool to escape the pain, but Song Shi’an just smiled. “Young Master Jiang, you’re drenched in alcohol. Jump in, and do you think the fire will grow stronger or go out?”

No one dared intervene. Terrified by her words, the man froze, too panicked to question whether she was telling the truth or bluffing.

“Shi’an-jie, I was wrong, I swear!”

“Idiot. Figure it out yourself. But whatever you do, don’t dirty the pool.” With that, Song Shi’an sauntered over to Yan Sheng and began the countdown.

“Five more minutes, sweetheart. Cold?” Yan Sheng stared at the wicked grin on Song Shi’an’s lips, suddenly feeling like she was seeing a stranger.

Little Yan Sheng, this is the real Song Shi’an. This is who she is—how else could she be the villainess? Shijiu’s voice echoed in her mind, trying to snap her out of her lovesick daze.

“Sister, I’m cold.” The manor was in the suburbs, and while the days were hot, nights grew chilly. Yan Sheng, unable to swim, had no choice but to stay submerged.

Of course she was freezing.

“Hold on a little longer.” Song Shi’an showed no intention of letting her out early.

Meanwhile, only after Song Shi’an gave the word did someone finally help extinguish the fire on Young Master Jiang.

By the time the flames were out, Yan Sheng’s time was up.

She climbed out of the pool, but no one paid her any attention now.

Song Shi’an stood on the steps, offering her a hand. Yan Sheng gripped it tightly as she was pulled up.

Her soaked dress clung to her body, outlining her delicate curves. Song Shi’an subtly shielded her with her own frame, pulling her into an embrace. “Still cold?”

Yan Sheng trembled slightly. She almost reflexively said no, but hesitated and admitted the truth. “Yes.”

She didn’t dare hug Song Shi’an back, afraid her drenched clothes would soak through Song Shi’an’s as well.

A few glances were cast their way, but after what had just happened, no one dared approach Song Shi’an again—not unless they wanted to provoke her wrath.

“Sis, that person…” Yan Sheng was still a bit worried. What if someone died? After all, they were setting fire to a person.

“He won’t die, just lose a layer of skin. Didn’t he love playing around? This was his own idea of fun,” Song Shi’an said nonchalantly.

Her gaze fell on Yan Sheng again, and for the first time, Song Shi’an felt she was being unusually polite—she actually thought it wasn’t right for Yan Sheng to be stared at like this by others, too invasive.

Suddenly, Song Shi’an picked Yan Sheng up in her arms.

Instinctively, Yan Sheng wrapped her arms around Song Shi’an’s neck. After a few steps, her frozen brain finally rebooted.

This felt a little strange. As an alpha, being carried by Song Shi’an, an omega, didn’t quite align with societal norms.

Yan Sheng couldn’t help but ask Shijiu internally: [Isn’t this a bit inappropriate? I’m the alpha, after all.]

What’s wrong with that? Can’t alphas be delicate too? Alphas are still girls.

Besides, Song Shi’an’s enjoying this—she’s having fun pretending to be an alpha.

Yan Sheng was both amused and exasperated but had to admit it made sense.

The others weren’t as conflicted. Ignoring the Jiang family’s fool who insisted on courting death, they simply watched as Song Shi’an carried Yan Sheng away.

“Is Miss Song actually serious this time?” someone asked curiously.

“No way, right? Since when does she take things seriously?”

“Come on, Shi’an-jie isn’t like you guys, swapping lovers left and right.”

“And what do you mean ‘this time’? She’s never toyed with anyone’s feelings before.”

A girl defended Song Shi’an, disliking how they were badmouthing her.

“Does Song Shi’an even know you’re simping for her? She wouldn’t spare you a second glance,” a male alpha taunted.

“It’s called admiration. Why doesn’t anyone admire you? Oh right—because Young Master Zhuang is good at nothing. Failed every exam, can’t even outrun Song Shi’an in sports. She’s an S-rank alpha, after all, while you’re just a B-rank. Without your family’s money, you’d be nothing,” the girl retorted sarcastically.

The guy flushed with anger, nearly raising a hand.

“Ooh, wanna fight? Bring it on.” The girl rolled up her sleeves, revealing toned muscles.

“Take your brawling outside,” Zhu Yuandong drawled as she stepped out. “Are we here to wreck the place today?”

Her words silenced the crowd.

Someone called for the party to resume, and the onlookers drifted back.

These people were hollow and callous, chasing nothing but thrills.

To them, Song Shi’an’s actions today were just another spectacle—as long as no one died, no one cared.

Even the guy set on fire would become nothing more than a joke over tea.

Having seen enough, Yan Wuyou waved at Zhu Yuandong. “You guys have fun. This is boring—I’m out.”

Watching her leave, Zhu Yuandong suddenly felt empty.

Over the years, she’d noticed Yan Wuyou and Song Shi’an changing. They no longer lingered in this circle, preferring to pursue other interests, rarely mingling with the old crowd.

Yan Wuyou loved painting, often traveling to sketch landscapes.

Song Shi’an didn’t have any particular preferences—she’d impulsively pursue whatever caught her interest at the moment.

From boxing to shooting to fencing, even piano and opera.

If something sparked her curiosity, she’d learn it.

Zhu Yuandong suddenly realized she might be the only one still drowning in this artificial revelry.

She sighed deeply, abruptly feeling bored.

Lighting a cigarette, she watched as the card game resumed at the table.

After finishing the smoke, finding it all rather dull, she claimed drunkenness and left.

Outside, she texted Yan Wuyou: [Where are you?]

Yan Wuyou: [Archery.]

Scratching her head, Zhu Yuandong decided to head to the archery range too.

“What brings you here? I thought you were tired and resting?”

Yan Wuyou rolled her eyes. “Just found your crowd too boring.”

“Years pass, yet no growth—same old games without any updates.”

“Can’t even compete in arrogance. They talk big about excitement, but get utterly crushed the moment Song Shi’an shows up. Tsk, pointless.”

Yan Wuyou had once been just like them in her naive youth.

But eventually, the endless cycle of intoxication and reversed sleep schedules grew tiresome, so she gradually withdrew.

Following her family’s advice, she attended university properly. Spending years among ordinary art students turned out far more interesting than her former life.

Zhu Yuandong fell silent at her words, then picked up a bow herself—though the alcohol severely compromised her aim.

Meanwhile, Yan Sheng was carried back to the suite by Song Shi’an.

The entire way, Yan Sheng studied Song Shi’an intently—the woman seemed genuinely tireless.

Back in the room, Yan Sheng leaned in for a kiss. “You’ve worked hard, sister. Aren’t you tired?”

Song Shi’an appraised her. “Too light.”

“Sign up for a gym class when you have time. No alpha should be this delicate.”

Song Shi’an’s words always carried this cutting edge.

But Yan Sheng was growing accustomed to it—even detecting hints of concern beneath the brusqueness.