Making Three Heartless Woman Go Crazy for Me - Chapter 18

In the dimly lit room, Qi Lanshi opened her eyes as she felt the warmth behind her gradually fade away.

She hummed softly, genuinely drowsy this time, and drifted back to sleep.

Meanwhile, in the study, Luan Hua watched the surveillance footage, her expression darkening by degrees.

“I’ve been so negligent in managing my subordinates,” Luan Hua muttered, her voice tinged with disbelief, embarrassment, and anger.

The housekeeper and servants’ treatment of Qi Lanshi was, in essence, a reflection of their attitude toward her—the Master. It was her own lack of authority that had allowed them to feign compliance while secretly targeting the person she had brought home.

It was also her failure to provide Qi Lanshi with enough security and protection that had forced the girl to silently endure their mistreatment, never even complaining.

“So sharp-tongued with me, yet she’s learned to swallow her pride around outsiders,” Luan Hua sneered, reaching for the bell on her desk.

Within thirty seconds, the housekeeper entered, asking what she required.

“You’re fired,” Luan Hua declared. “Your final task is to inform everyone in the mansion of your dismissal.”

“Clear this place out in ten minutes. Anyone still here after that will be treated as a thief.”

“Now, get out.”

The butler stared in disbelief.

Realizing Luan Hua was serious, he frantically tried to explain, “Perhaps there’s been some misunderstanding between Miss Qi and me. Miss, I’ve watched you grow up. I genuinely care for you like my own child. Over all these years, even if I haven’t earned any praise, I’ve certainly worked hard…”

Luan Hua found his words utterly absurd.

Treating her like a child? She had both parents—why would she need an outsider to care for her like that? How dare a mere butler presume to act as the family’s elder and manager?

“First, caring for me is your job. You’re paid handsomely for it—it’s your duty. Second, you have nine minutes left.”

Luan Hua’s words left no room for negotiation. She was issuing orders, not making requests.

If these servants couldn’t grasp their place, she would make them pay the price.

The butler’s face turned ashen, as if struck by a bolt from the blue.

Not only the butler, but everyone in the mansion was stunned. They had merely given Qi Lanshi a mild, inconsequential lesson, causing her no real harm. Yet, overnight, they were all dismissed.

The mansion erupted into chaos. Sounds of protest, pleas for mercy, and desperate attempts to delay their departure filled the air as the staff clung to the hope that Luan Hua might change her mind.

But Luan Hua gave them no such opportunity. Her secretary, with ruthless efficiency, immediately brought in new staff—not enough to cover all duties, but sufficient to maintain essential operations.

Seeing this, the butler and the others finally realized there was no turning back. They had irrevocably lost their positions in the Luan Family.

In the interconnected world of the wealthy, their mass dismissal for deceiving their employer would quickly become public knowledge, effectively ending their chances of finding domestic work in any wealthy household.

“Boss, the basic staff has arrived. They’re all trustworthy individuals. I’ll have the remaining personnel ready within three days.”

“Mm, thank you for your hard work,” Luan Hua said.

The secretary was about to reply that it was her duty when her phone buzzed in her pocket: her overtime pay for the night had arrived.

Instantly, the secretary’s expression became even more sincere. Smiling, she said, “It’s my pleasure, Boss. Thank you.”

After the secretary left, the vast mansion felt even emptier. Luan Hua stood by the window, watching the newly arrived servants move swiftly and quietly as they worked. Suddenly, she felt… utterly bored.

This enormous house was boring, the group of meaningless servants was boring, and even the night itself had become boring.

She poured herself a glass of red wine, its low alcohol content bringing a faint burning sensation as it slid down her throat, sharpening her senses and calming her mind.

Swirling the glass, she drained the remaining wine in one gulp and returned to her room in the darkness.

Inside, Qi Lanshi remained sound asleep, unchanged since Luan Hua had left. Standing in the doorway, Luan Hua gazed at Qi Lanshi’s sleeping face, the burning sensation in her throat suddenly easing.

Outside was dull, and the company of unimportant people even more so. But with Qi Lanshi sleeping here and the warm glow of the lights, the house suddenly felt like a home.

The average rich second-generation heir differs greatly from the sole inheritor of a family fortune. As Luan Hua was the only daughter, her destiny as the heir had been sealed from birth. From childhood, she had been different from people like Gu Jingshu.

She never experienced a normal parent-child relationship. Her interactions with her parents resembled those of business partners rather than family members. After starting middle school, she moved out of the family home to live alone, eventually purchasing this house.

Luan Hua didn’t particularly care about the house, nor did she see any need for such a large residence. But her status demanded it, so she had to buy it.

In this cavernous, empty house, only now did she finally feel a sense of home.

And this feeling had been brought to her by Qi Lanshi.

By a mere stand-in she hadn’t even put much effort into finding.

Luan Hua found the irony amusing. She slowly walked over to Qi Lanshi, took off her coat, and was about to lie down beside her when the sleeping woman suddenly stirred in protest.

Qi Lanshi was even more temperamental asleep than awake, her brow furrowed as she grumbled and pushed against Luan Hua’s chest. Every movement radiated resistance, yet it wasn’t… quite so forceful.

Her attitude didn’t resemble a firm rejection; it was closer to playful teasing.

Luan Hua gripped her hand and asked, “What’s wrong?”

Qi Lanshi had indeed suffered a grievance today, so Luan Hua was willing to be more accommodating.

“You smell like alcohol,” Qi Lanshi mumbled, leaning in to sniff Luan Hua’s neck. “When did you learn to drink? Go take a shower.”

The faint smile that had been playing at the corner of Luan Hua’s lips froze at her words.

Qi Lanshi’s intimacy was something Luan Hua had never experienced before. Nor did she believe that this unconscious closeness and reliance revealed in her sleep were meant for her.

Realizing this, shock and anger surged through Luan Hua’s chest. She pressed down on Qi Lanshi’s shoulders, intending to shake her awake forcefully, but the moment she saw her drowsy, half-closed eyes, she abruptly raised her hand to cover them.

“Who am I?” Luan Hua asked, her voice carrying a subtle caution she herself didn’t realize.

In her palm, she felt Qi Lanshi’s eyelashes flutter twice before the woman slowly replied, “Luan Hua, what’s wrong now?”

Luan Hua could clearly hear her own heartbeat. In her palm, beside her arm, she felt Qi Lanshi’s body warmth.

This woman was right beside her, within her control, her chosen pet, her substitute for comfort.

Qi Lanshi belonged entirely to her.

With this thought, Luan Hua slowly exhaled, a sense of relief she couldn’t quite explain washing over her.

“Nothing, I think I woke you,” Luan Hua said, offering a simple explanation. “Go back to sleep. I’ll take care of everything.”

Qi Lanshi murmured in agreement, rolled over, and drifted back to sleep.

Though her face still wore the drowsiness of someone not fully awake, her mind was remarkably alert, even active, engaged in a mental conversation with the System.

“Acting, that’s what this is—acting,” Qi Lanshi thought, thoroughly pleased with her performance.

System: When exactly did you wake up?

“Luan Hua stood at the door like a guardian deity, staring at me for ages. Anyone would have felt their skin crawl under that gaze, let alone someone as vigilant as me. Isn’t it natural that I’d wake up?”

“Today’s timing and atmosphere are perfect for crafting a new persona. This is going to be so much fun!”

Qi Lanshi’s fresh persona for herself was that she, too, had a White Moonlight.

Competition fuels the market. Gu Jingshu had been Qi Lanshi’s tool to inflate her own value, but it wasn’t enough. Gu Jingshu was more of a Troublemaker, mildly interested in Qi Lanshi but nothing more.

She might enjoy seeing Luan Hua squirm, but she’d never risk offending Qi Lanshi to compete for a mere trifle.

At best, Gu Jingshu could instill some anxiety in Luan Hua and set the mood when necessary, but her usefulness ended there.

Creating a White Moonlight known only to Qi Lanshi, one she could freely fabricate, would have a completely different effect.

You have your White Moonlight, and I have mine. Who’s more noble now?

Qi Lanshi was, after all, a young, innocent college student. Her descent into her current predicament was entirely orchestrated by Luan Hua. The love hidden in her heart was genuine, true love.

“For now, let’s just sleep,” Qi Lanshi said to the System. “Tomorrow, I’ll think carefully about how to flesh out this White Moonlight character. In short, she needs to be completely different from Luan Hua—someone conventionally worthy of love, possessing all the admirable qualities that would make Luan Hua feel ashamed of herself.”

As Qi Lanshi drifted off to sleep, she vaguely sensed someone lying down behind her, gently placing a hand on her waist. The movement was cautious, almost furtive, as if afraid of being discovered.

Her eyelashes fluttered, but she paid no attention.

The next morning, Qi Lanshi woke up to find breakfast laid out on the bedside table, fresh slippers by the bed, and a faint aroma of aromatherapy wafting through the air. It took her a moment to process what she was seeing.

Having spent several days in this luxurious mansion, this was the first time she had experienced such meticulous and thoughtful arrangements.

Those who worked for Luan Hua were undoubtedly highly capable, but they had simply disdained to treat Qi Lanshi with such care.

“Did they manage to train her in just one night? No matter. These cannon fodder characters are all pre-programmed. As long as they keep running, they’ll repeat their patterns again and again…”

Before Qi Lanshi could finish her thought, there was a knock on the door. She called out, “Come in,” and fell into an uncharacteristic silence as she gazed at the row of unfamiliar faces.