Making Three Heartless Woman Go Crazy for Me - Chapter 38

Luan Hua appeared like divine retribution, catching Bai Jiao completely off guard. Qi Lanshi, however, remained composed.

She had long since discovered that Luan Hua’s control over her extended far beyond installing surveillance cameras at home. Her phone was bugged with eavesdropping and tracking software, and bodyguards followed her everywhere she went. From the moment she contacted Bai Jiao, Luan Hua knew who she was meeting and where they would meet.

Qi Lanshi hadn’t intended to uncover Luan Hua’s schemes so quickly, but the bodyguards in this game were simply too conspicuous. Every time she stepped outside, she couldn’t help but notice a group of “double-door refrigerators” trailing behind her. How could anyone miss that?

After Luan Hua’s arrival, Bai Jiao initially panicked, then realized this was all part of Qi Lanshi’s plan.

“You two… you planned this together, didn’t you?”

“Not exactly,” Qi Lanshi explained softly. “Do I really need to scheme to cause you trouble? You’re not worth that much effort.”

Bai Jiao’s character arc—transforming from a “White Moonlight” into a clingy nuisance—was a testament to the production team’s incompetence.

Qi Lanshi said earnestly, “Actually, in the beginning, I wanted to get along with you. Even if we couldn’t be friends, we didn’t have to end up like this.”

In Qi Lanshi’s initial vision, the White Moonlight character should have been aloof and proud, never compromising her dignity even in conflict with the player.

Bai Jiao’s initial petty schemes had barely registered with Qi Lanshi. The malice and targeting she faced in real life were far more severe than anything in the game. But after the drugging incident, she was utterly disgusted.

Yes, Bai Jiao was just a manipulated character, but what did that have to do with her? Did she have to endure such nauseating scenarios even while playing a game?

Her current feeling toward Bai Jiao was simple: Please leave my world immediately and gracefully.

And now, Bai Jiao had clearly lost her composure.

More than Qi Lanshi’s words, it was Luan Hua’s expression of undisguised loathing that Bai Jiao couldn’t bear. The woman who had once been her devoted follower now loved another completely and regarded her like discarded trash.

“I admit, I wronged you that day. But Luan Hua, it wasn’t entirely my fault.” Bai Jiao tilted her head back to look at her. “If your parents hadn’t tacitly approved, I would have struggled even to cross paths with you after moving out of your mansion. They looked down on Qi Lanshi and steered me toward you.”

Bai Jiao’s eyes reddened slightly as she glared at Luan Hua, who stood guarding Qi Lanshi like a knight. Clenching her jaw, she spat out, “And even I was just a delaying tactic for your parents. What they truly wanted was for me to fulfill your youthful fantasies, so you could then settle down like a normal person, find a suitable marriage partner, marry, have children, and produce a new heir for the Luan Family.”

Bai Jiao’s parents understood Luan Hua’s feelings better than she did herself. Madam Luan had recognized Qi Lanshi’s true influence the moment she met her, while Mr. Luan couldn’t bear the realization that Qi Lanshi controlled Luan Hua’s emotions.

Thus, Bai Jiao was pushed forward. She was right—she had simply seized the opportunity.

As Bai Jiao’s words hung in the air, Qi Lanshi looked up at Luan Hua and realized that the vulnerability hadn’t vanished; it had merely shifted. Now, it was Luan Hua who was breaking down.

It was clear that Luan Hua already knew everything Bai Jiao had said. In fact, this was one of the main reasons she hadn’t made Bai Jiao pay the price. She understood who truly held the power, and punishing Bai Jiao alone would have been self-deception, a mere display of her own incompetence.

The only person who hadn’t considered this was Qi Lanshi.

In the real world, she might have sensed the hidden complexities, but… this was just a game, a Lily Game.

Could a Lily Game really tackle such realistic issues? And heirs? Someone unfamiliar with the situation might think… Oh wait, the Luan Family’s assets could indeed be considered a throne to inherit.

Bai Jiao’s words silenced not only Luan Hua but also the entire livestream. Viewers flooded the chat, insisting their intentions were pure—they just wanted to enjoy a game, not get dragged into such a disgustingly immersive plot.

Ultimately, it fell to Qi Lanshi to break the silence.

She countered Bai Jiao, “So what’s the point of saying all this? Does it excuse your illegal act of drugging Luan Hua?”

“Trying to deflect or shift blame won’t work on me. I’ll only focus on you and your actions. Don’t even try to pass the buck—you’re far less skilled at that than I am.”

As she stood up, she turned to Luan Hua and demanded, “I want her gone from my sight. Can you make that happen?”

Luan Hua’s first instinct was to reply, but the words caught in her throat, refusing to form.

She knew perfectly well that she no longer harbored any lingering affection for Bai Jiao. The girl who had rescued her from the car crash on that rainy night had been completely replaced by Qi Lanshi on the day she was drugged.

The emotions she had once invested in Bai Jiao had become so fleeting that she herself struggled to recall them.

Yet, faced with Qi Lanshi’s simple request, she found herself unable to respond.

She watched as Qi Lanshi waited for her answer, her expression gradually cooling until she finally shook her head.

“It’s fine,” Qi Lanshi said, rising to leave.

“I can!” Luan Hua blurted out, grabbing Qi Lanshi’s hand. “Whatever you want, I’ll do it.”

Her words might have sounded touching at first glance, but they came too late. Qi Lanshi didn’t like it.

“It’s fine. You don’t need to force yourself,” she said, gently pushing Luan Hua’s hand away. “I have no right to ask you to force yourself.”

With that, she turned and walked away. Luan Hua tried to follow, but Qi Lanshi’s sharp words pinned her to the spot: “Don’t bother me. I need to be alone.”

Still hesitating? You’re really pushing your luck, Qi Lanshi thought. I’m still a bit rusty. This round of “dog training” didn’t go as smoothly as I’d hoped.

If Luan Hua didn’t deal with Bai Jiao completely by the end of the day, this game would be buried.

Qi Lanshi immediately logged off. Checking the bullet comments, she saw the livestream chat was indeed dissatisfied with Luan Hua’s recent reaction.

Lanlan gave her a chance to make up for the past, and she hesitated! How dare she!

I used to feel sorry for her, but now I want to apologize for that.

Lanlan, punish her! Hurry! Punish her hard!

I thought the CEO had finally fallen for Lanlan and would be different this time, but… ha!

“Does Luan Hua like me?” Qi Lanshi asked with a sly smile. “I wouldn’t know.”

On the day they officially became a couple, Luan Hua hadn’t uttered a single coherent word. Instead, she’d just blurted out about liking Qi Lanshi’s face and body. Could that even count as genuine affection?

“My standards for mutual affection are far higher than that. Even if I misunderstood Luan Hua’s intentions, it’s her fault, not mine.”

Brilliant! Only Lanlan could make me feel so satisfied with just a few words.

Looks like Lanlan’s going for the bad ending. That way, even if they break up, all the blame will fall on Luan Hua. Tsk tsk tsk.

To that, I can only say: good riddance.

Am I the only one who noticed? Lanlan’s attitude suggests she’s about to quit the game.

Quit if you want! The next game will be even more exciting! I’m already looking forward to what other ridiculous plot twists this dumbass game has in store.

“But I’m not really looking forward to it anymore,” Qi Lanshi said, yawning. “If it weren’t for the Holographic Pod being so rare and the Closed Beta paying me, I wouldn’t have tolerated this brain-dead plot for even a minute.”

“There are countless fun games out there, and livestreaming is just a side hustle for me. I’ll just find another one I like.”

Before the drugging incident, Qi Lanshi had merely considered quitting the game. Now, she had no desire to play it at all.

What a brain-dead game. Not even a dog would play this garbage. And they actually want to release it? If they don’t fix the plot, it’ll flop harder than a turd in a toilet.

Does that mean we’ll have fewer chances to see her play? Honestly, the game’s character models are really beautiful!

I suggest Lanlan experience a few more high-fidelity holographic DOIs before quitting. You might not get another chance like this!

Qi Lanshi: “…You guys really get me.”

Though she had grown weary of the game, Qi Lanshi remained committed to finishing what she had started. After completing her real-world work, she logged into the game as usual for her livestream.

Her logout point was her school dormitory. By the time she returned, it was already evening, and her phone was flooded with unread messages, all from Luan Hua.

Luan Hua had started messaging ten minutes after Qi Lanshi left. At first, she maintained a semblance of composure, simply asking normal questions. But after half an hour without a response, her tone grew noticeably anxious.

By the end, she seemed to be bragging, claiming she had “taken care of” Bai Jiao.

This phrasing sent a chill down Qi Lanshi’s spine. She replied:  You… killed Bai Jiao?

Luan Hua, who had been waiting all afternoon for a response, typed:  Of course not. We live in a society governed by law.

Didn’t you want to never see Bai Jiao again? She’s been living abroad for years; she must be used to foreign life by now. I simply sent her back.

This time, it was Qi Lanshi who typed the ellipsis.

Luan Hua had grown heavily dependent on her. An entire afternoon was more than enough time for Luan Hua’s imagination to run wild. Just as Qi Lanshi was considering it might be time to visit Luan Hua again, a WeChat notification popped up.

Troublemaker: Long time no see! Let’s meet up? Luan Hua isn’t keeping you on such a tight leash, is she?

Qi Lanshi hesitated, not immediately agreeing. Instead, she asked Gu Jingshu what she wanted.

Troublemaker: Can’t I just want to see you?

Qi Lanshi: No.

Troublemaker: ……

Fine, fine. Actually, there’s something I wanted to ask you about—about you and Luan Hua.

After sending the message, she shared her location and transferred 10,000 yuan.

Qi Lanshi accepted the money and screenshotted her balance.  Luan Hua said if you show up with only 8,000 or 10,000 yuan next time, she’ll tell you to stop embarrassing yourself.

Troublemaker: ???

Then why did you accept it?

Qi Lanshi: Why wouldn’t I take free money? Wait there. I’ll be there in half an hour.

With that, she screenshotted the conversation for Luan Hua, explaining she was meeting Gu Jingshu and would likely be back after dinner.

“Gu Jingshu, what a true friend,” Qi Lanshi remarked sarcastically.

So eager to help her advance the plot.

Setting goals also had another purpose: making me feel guilty when I failed to meet them, leading to sporadic bonus chapters.

Like today.