Making Three Heartless Woman Go Crazy for Me - Chapter 34

From unzipping the dress to half-undressing, to embracing and kissing, it all happened within a few exchanged glances.

The air in the dressing room suddenly grew scorching hot. Luan Hua’s hands rested on Qi Lanshi’s shoulders, her chest rising and falling with each breath. Her shoulder straps slipped down, the hem of her skirt was lifted, and her cat-like eyes were veiled with a misty haze. Her lips were moist and crimson, and even her breath turned hot.

Qi Lanshi pinched Luan Hua’s chin, gazed into her dazed eyes, then gently adjusted her shoulder straps and lowered her skirt.

“I’m dressed. Let’s go out.”

Luan Hua’s mind felt sluggish. For a moment, she didn’t even grasp what Qi Lanshi meant. When she finally came to her senses, she realized she was the only one disheveled. Qi Lanshi had only briefly exposed her shoulder at the beginning; by the time they were intimately close, she had already fully redressed.

Qi Lanshi leisurely smoothed her hair, giving Luan Hua time to process the situation. She tilted her head back and asked, “What’s wrong? You’re not going to make that kind of request in broad daylight, are you?”

“That won’t do. One must have self-control.”

Luan Hua nearly laughed in exasperation.

She had just accused Qi Lanshi of being weak, and now Qi Lanshi was teasing her without going further, then turning around and accusing her of being insatiable.

This woman was truly… remarkably petty.

“Let’s go then,” Luan Hua said, reapplying her lipstick in the mirror. “I hope you can be just as… unexpectedly bold at the old manor.”

Qi Lanshi took this sarcastic remark as a compliment.

The Luan Family Manor stood in stark contrast to Luan Hua’s modern residence. Its architecture exuded a grand, antique charm, with traditional Chinese-style pavilions, terraces, bridges, and flowing water features. Instead of a swimming pool, there was even an artificial pond.

“Your parents have impeccable taste,” Qi Lanshi remarked. “It’s true what they say—the truly wealthy are understated. Otherwise, the design of this house could be textbook material.”

Luan Hua instinctively retorted, “You know about design and art styles?”

She immediately regretted the question, but the words had already escaped her lips. Qi Lanshi seized the opportunity to continue the conversation.

“I originally wanted to study design or fine arts, but my artistic talent was pitiful. Plus, I couldn’t afford it, so I gave up,” Qi Lanshi said flatly. “My understanding of art probably extends only to visiting art exhibitions and watching musicals.”

Qi Lanshi’s words abruptly shattered the previously harmonious atmosphere, leaving a palpable tension in the air.

Luan Hua finally realized, with belated awareness, that her earlier indifference and neglect had caused her to miss so much about Qi Lanshi.

Qi Lanshi had never explicitly mentioned that person, but she had never deliberately concealed them either. That person was inextricably linked to her past, and their shadow loomed large over her present and future.

This was something Luan Hua had never experienced before, and something she could never truly be a part of.

“Look, look, look, she’s getting angry again,” Qi Lanshi mentally remarked to the System. “What a fragile woman. Even back on her home turf, she still needs me to keep things under control.”

Breaking through Luan Hua’s defenses was effortless. Qi Lanshi strongly suspected she was already inwardly sobbing and whimpering.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” Qi Lanshi countered. “This is your house, after all. I already know your parents don’t welcome me. Shouldn’t you at least help me out a little?”

Luan Hua’s brow furrowed even deeper, her expression radiating displeasure. After a moment of tense silence, she reluctantly took Qi Lanshi’s hand.

Her voice dripped with reluctance as she said, “Let’s go.”

Luan Hua was the epitome of tsundere, her thought processes sometimes bafflingly eccentric. Yet Qi Lanshi had long since deciphered her temperament, understanding exactly how to handle her.

Knowing Luan Hua’s displeasure, there was no need for explanations or coaxing. A simple show of vulnerability, a demonstration of needing her, was enough to smooth her ruffled feathers.

For people like Luan Hua’s parents, their marriage was a business alliance, and their anniversaries weren’t just for celebration but elaborate business banquets attended by prominent figures.

Qi Lanshi, mingling among these elites, felt utterly out of place.

“Normally, this would be a scene where I’m being bullied,” Qi Lanshi whispered to her Livestream audience from a corner. “The NPCs are doing a great job—each one exudes the arrogance of the upper class.”

“In reality, the higher someone’s status and power, the more outwardly polished and polite they appear. Even when dealing with someone like me, they’d only look down on me inwardly, showing no outward signs of disdain.”

“They wouldn’t deliberately target me—that’s too crude… Of course, forced plot developments don’t count. But that doesn’t change the fact that someone with a hidden identity, when facing the upper class, can still feel their contempt and exclusion.”

“This subtle rejection is far more unbearable than direct hostility, because they’re not doing anything overtly. You could call it psychological warfare. For them, there’s no need for overt aggression; a mocking glance, a loaded tone, an ambiguous smile—that’s all it takes.”

Qi Lanshi clicked her tongue. “Only those who’ve experienced it firsthand can truly understand this. Those accustomed to being on top can’t even perceive it. And someone with Luan Hua’s… unique way of thinking would be even less aware. At this point, she might even think… the player is just being crazy.”

Lanlan’s words remind me of the days I was bullied at school.

I went through that too. I reported it to the teacher, but they told me to reflect on myself and asked why I was the only one being bullied.

When everyone in a group uniformly ostracizes someone, that’s violence. The higher up the social ladder, the more subtle and bloodless their violence becomes.

“But all this applies to the player’s role in the story. It won’t work on me,” Qi Lanshi said casually, helping herself to a small cake.

“What are you doing here?” Luan Hua turned around and, noticing Qi Lanshi’s absence, grew visibly displeased.

“I was hungry, so I came to grab a bite,” Qi Lanshi replied matter-of-factly. “So many people were trying to chat with you, and I didn’t know a single one. Why wouldn’t I take the chance to slip away? Do you want me to stand around like a monkey in a zoo, being gawked at?”

“Of course you’ll stay by my side. Why else would I bring you here?” Luan Hua struggled to understand Qi Lanshi’s hesitation. “With me here, what are you afraid of? Who would dare give you a hard time?”

Qi Lanshi’s response was simple: “That’s not necessarily true.”

Those five words infuriated Luan Hua, but she quickly realized Qi Lanshi was right.

Her own parents were the ones who would give Qi Lanshi a hard time.

Madam Luan had already interacted with Qi Lanshi before, so she had anticipated this. Though she was displeased that Luan Hua had brought her to their wedding anniversary banquet, she wouldn’t show it.

In contrast, Mr. Luan’s reaction was far more direct. He made no attempt to hide his displeasure toward Qi Lanshi, refusing to acknowledge her with a single word or even a glance throughout the entire evening.

He even vented his anger on his own daughter, Luan Hua, while keeping Bai Jiao by his side. To an outsider, it would have seemed as though Bai Jiao were his biological daughter.

“What do you think about me stirring things up a bit right now?” Qi Lanshi asked the System. “That would solidify my character perfectly. From Luan Hua’s parents’ perspective, I’d be practically a femme fatale who could bring down a nation.”

… The System remained silent for a long moment before finally sighing. How you play the game is your own choice. Do whatever you want.

The System’s attitude made Qi Lanshi frown. Her mind raced with doubts, a nagging sense that something was off.

Today was clearly a plot point. Yet the System, which usually used card trades to guide her through the story, was now completely silent, showing no intention of steering her at all.

Such a normal reaction was highly abnormal for the System.

Qi Lanshi instantly knew the System was up to no good, but she didn’t voice her suspicions or ask any questions. Instead, she observed the bustling banquet, scrutinizing every guest, trying to discern their hidden motives.

“What are you thinking about?” Luan Hua suddenly asked. “What, can’t you even stand being near me for a moment?”

Qi Lanshi silently rolled her eyes. “I’m just a country bumpkin. I want to see more of the world. Is that so wrong?”

Her White Moonlight persona had been so convincingly crafted that Luan Hua hadn’t even realized she was constantly plagued by anxiety and insecurity—hardly the behavior of a confident patron.

Luan Hua scoffed, “I’ve never seen you so curious before.”

Qi Lanshi was clearly reminiscing about her past with that dead person, lost in memories of days gone by.

Right in front of her, she was mourning her deceased lover.

Luan Hua’s face darkened, her cat-like eyes widening with anger, round and puffed up like an angry little ball—a sight that might have been considered adorable.

Though among the crowd, Qi Lanshi was likely the only one who thought so.

“Want a bite?” Qi Lanshi suddenly asked, scooping up a small piece of cake and holding it to Luan Hua’s lips. “Try it. It’s delicious. I tasted it first to make sure it was good before offering it to you.”

Luan Hua wanted to refuse outright, but Qi Lanshi pressed the spoon closer, until it was practically touching her mouth.

The woman was looking at her with such eager anticipation, as if her eating the cake meant the world to her.

A thought flickered through Luan Hua’s mind, and she swallowed the tiny piece of cake.

Qi Lanshi’s smile deepened. “Isn’t it delicious?”

Luan Hua stared at her radiant smile for a long moment before finally nodding.

She hadn’t actually tasted the cake at all. Her entire focus had been on Qi Lanshi.

The morning sunlight was warm and bright. Qi Lanshi, dressed in a white miniskirt, glowed under the sun’s rays. Her hair and the hem of her skirt shimmered with a golden sheen, while her skin appeared even more radiant and rosy, her smile warm and luminous.

At that moment, Luan Hua couldn’t recall why she had initially kept Qi Lanshi by her side. Now, she only felt…

Qi Lanshi was breathtakingly beautiful, truly stunning.

She wanted Qi Lanshi’s beauty to belong solely to her.

At the heart of the banquet, Mr. Luan mingled with the guests, raising toasts and exchanging pleasantries, but his attention remained fixed on Luan Hua.

His displeasure had begun when Luan Hua chose to sit with Qi Lanshi. As he watched his daughter’s emotions completely controlled by Qi Lanshi, his frustration nearly surfaced, threatening to be noticed by the guests.

How utterly pathetic.

A mere mistress, a plaything! And she’s wasting so much time and energy on this toy, now letting herself be led around by the nose.

For the head of a company to be so spineless—it’s utterly shameful!

Madam Luan glanced at her husband and immediately understood his displeasure. She patted the back of his hand with one hand while gently taking Bai Jiao’s hand with the other, smiling warmly. “It’s been so many years since we last saw you, Bai Jiao. You’ve grown into such a graceful young woman. No wonder Luan Hua has always been so fond of you.”

Bai Jiao, lacking the composure of the older couple, struggled to maintain her composure, but she still managed to respond politely to Madam Luan’s words.

“Must be dreadfully boring spending time with us old folks,” Madam Luan said with a gentle smile, nudging Bai Jiao toward Luan Hua. “You young people should have some fun together. Go on.”

Bai Jiao took a deep breath.

No matter how much Luan Hua favored Qi Lanshi, she had initially come as a substitute. In this situation, only Bai Jiao could break the deadlock.

This wasn’t just what Luan Hua’s parents believed; Bai Jiao herself had thought the same before returning to China.

But now…

Bai Jiao had no confidence she could outmaneuver Qi Lanshi, yet… she had no choice.

If she wanted to stay, she had to try, even though she knew her current moves were desperate.

“Miss Bai is here,” Qi Lanshi whispered into Luan Hua’s ear. “Should I make myself scarce?”

Luan Hua frowned. “Why are you talking so much? Sit properly.”

Qi Lanshi studied Luan Hua intently, observing her subtle expressions and unconscious gestures. A bold hypothesis formed in Qi Lanshi’s mind:

“I get the feeling you not only don’t want me to leave, but you also don’t want to be alone with Miss Bai, do you?”

At those words, Luan Hua’s body stiffened completely.

She didn’t know how to explain it, but… she now felt genuinely uneasy around Bai Jiao.

In her mind, a voice repeatedly told her she should like Bai Jiao. Bai Jiao was supposed to be the anchor of her emotions, the benefactor who had extended a hand to her in her darkest hour.

She understood the logic, yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that the Bai Jiao before her was entirely different from the person in her memories.

Luan Hua couldn’t articulate it; she simply felt an instinctive repulsion toward Bai Jiao.

During the time Bai Jiao had moved away, Luan Hua hadn’t missed her as she had in previous years. Instead, she felt a sense of relief.

See? This is the kind of forced affection you try to instill, Qi Lanshi mocked the System inwardly. White Moonlight, my ass. How fragile.

I told you, Bai Jiao’s downfall is that she’s still alive.

Only a dead White Moonlight could truly be invincible.

In just a few words, Bai Jiao had already approached, her voice filled with gentle warmth. “Luan Hua, Miss Qi, it’s been a while.”

Qi Lanshi nodded, about to return the greeting, when her phone suddenly vibrated twice. It was a message from Gu Jingshu.

Come to the garden pond immediately. Something urgent I need to tell you.

Qi Lanshi frowned, exchanging pleasantries with Bai Jiao while rapidly typing a reply:  What’s so urgent that you can’t just type it out? Why do we need to meet in person?

It’s a matter of life and death! You’ll understand when you get here. Would I ever lie to you?

After sending the message, Gu Jingshu, still worried that Qi Lanshi—who valued money over people—might ignore her, immediately transferred ten thousand yuan.

Qi Lanshi pondered the situation, her eyebrows arching in realization.

Today’s plot is indeed about to unfold, and it’s happening right now. Her continued presence would disrupt the story’s natural progression, so she needed to leave.

But Qi Lanshi was inherently rebellious, not only delighting in provoking Luan Hua but also refusing to cooperate with the System. After several failed multiple-choice scenarios, the System had learned its lesson. Instead of giving her agency, it had arranged for an NPC to lure her away.

In the end, the task was assigned to Gu Jingshu, the Troublemaker. The reason was simple: she was the only NPC who had private dealings with Qi Lanshi.

Qi Lanshi had figured out the Game’s strategy, but instead of exposing it, she decided to play along with the System.

She wanted to see what kind of dramatic plot they would concoct after all this effort. If it wasn’t sufficiently over-the-top and melodramatic, she’d give it a bad review.

“I won’t interrupt Miss Bai and CEO Luan’s reunion,” Qi Lanshi said, standing up. “You two carry on. I’ll just wander around. Don’t mind me.”

Luan Hua, of course, refused. She frowned, her first instinct to stop Qi Lanshi, but Qi Lanshi moved too quickly, turning and walking away.

“You—!” Luan Hua was genuinely angry now.

“Why do you care so much?” Bai Jiao pressed Luan Hua’s hand. “Miss Qi is an adult. She just wants to take a walk. Does that threaten your need for control? Or… are you just trying to avoid being alone with me?”

With Bai Jiao putting it so bluntly, what could Luan Hua possibly say?

“Of course not! How could that be?” Luan Hua tried to maintain her usual composure. “I brought her here. She’s unfamiliar with this place, so I’m just worried about her.”

Worried.

Bai Jiao suddenly wanted to ask: If Luan Hua couldn’t even let Qi Lanshi walk around the Luan Family Manor without worrying, then what about all those years she spent abroad? Did Luan Hua, who claimed to love her so deeply, ever worry about her then?

But asking that would be too humiliating. Bai Jiao swallowed her emotions.

Meanwhile, Qi Lanshi had followed Gu Jingshu’s directions to the pond.

“This pond is… remarkably pond-like,” Qi Lanshi remarked.

If the property were larger, she suspected Luan Hua’s parents would have built an artificial lake.

“You got here quickly,” Gu Jingshu said, stepping out from the shade of a tree with a smile. “What excuse did you use to slip away from Luan Hua? She’s been keeping an even closer eye on you since we last met.”

“There was no reason. I just stood up and walked away. She didn’t have time to stop me,” Qi Lanshi said earnestly. “You’d better tell me quickly, or Luan Hua will be here to drag me back any minute now.”

Gu Jingshu was speechless.

She knew Qi Lanshi was a bit wild, but this was beyond what she’d imagined.

“Turning your back and walking away right in front of Luan Hua? You’re probably the only one who would dare to do that.”

Qi Lanshi’s tone was flat. “Now you know the price I’m paying, so you’d better have something important to tell me.”

“Would I ever betray you? Of course I have something big! I overheard Bai Jiao’s plan—you wouldn’t believe what she’s about to do…”

Gu Jingshu trailed off abruptly, the gossipy glint in her eyes fading like a suddenly disconnected connection.

It was as if… she had suddenly lost her connection.

Qi Lanshi had always known this was a game and the people around her were just NPCs. But seeing Gu Jingshu like this still sent a chill down her spine.

After a long pause, a string of data flowed through Gu Jingshu’s eyes. She suddenly snapped back to herself and said, “Sorry, I really don’t have anything important to say. I just wanted to chat with you to kill time. You know I’m just a troublemaker—do I really need a reason to do things?”

As she spoke, she finally noticed Qi Lanshi’s odd expression. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing,” Qi Lanshi replied, shaking her head. “I just think you’re incredibly boring. I shouldn’t have trusted you.”

Gu Jingshu burst into laughter. “The story might be fake, but the money’s real, right? Even just for the money, it’s not unreasonable for me to want to chat with you, is it?”

In the real world, Qi Lanshi would have agreed. But this was just a game—everything was fake, including the money.

Without hesitation, Qi Lanshi turned and headed toward Luan Hua’s direction.

What Gu Jingshu had been about to tell her was undoubtedly related to the upcoming plot. The troublemaker hadn’t even realized what she’d seen; she’d simply treated the information as gossip to share, which ultimately led to the System forcibly altering her data.

Qi Lanshi loathed this feeling. She hurried back, only to arrive one step too late: Luan Hua and Bai Jiao were gone.

“I really hate this feeling of being forced to follow the plot,” Qi Lanshi said to the System. “But this time, it’s my fault, so I’ll let it slide for now.”

She had been too confident, believing she could control the plot’s development. That’s why she found herself in this situation.

Qi Lanshi’s panic lasted only a few minutes. She quickly regained her composure and began mentally reviewing what typically happened in such scenarios.

The “white rabbit heroine” suffering cold violence was no longer possible. Qi Lanshi simply didn’t care, and with Luan Hua by her side, the others would restrain themselves.

That left only one remaining factor capable of disrupting the protagonists’ relationship: the White Moonlight.

In an instant, Qi Lanshi’s mind cleared. She turned and headed toward the bedroom. As she approached the door, servants surrounded her, clearly intending to block her entry.

Without so much as a glance at them, Qi Lanshi veered sharply and circled back to the pond she had just left.

She had already confirmed that the area was unguarded. Perhaps because… no one could have imagined she would attempt to climb through a window while wearing a tight white dress and high heels.

“I’m doing this in a game, and only because I have no other choice. Please, everyone, don’t try this at home. Thank you,” Qi Lanshi said, still clinging to the window frame, not forgetting to remind her livestream viewers.

After landing, Qi Lanshi brushed the dust off her hands and asked with a smile, “You must be wondering what I’m going to do now, right?”

“I’m going to catch someone cheating.”

“This is another classic trope in CEO novels: the villainous female lead will always try to seduce the male lead and leave evidence for the female lead to find. Of course, you don’t need to worry—double purity is all the rage now, so nothing will actually happen between them. But…”

Qi Lanshi didn’t finish her sentence, but her expression spoke volumes.

The System asked:  You seem very angry.

“Yeah, you noticed?” Qi Lanshi tilted her head. “Forcing me through this kind of plot—the entire production team makes me sick.”