Willing to Be for Her - Chapter 24

In early spring, the sunlight outside the airport was warm and jade-like. Ning Yiqing stood seven steps away from Luo Xuan, her fingers inside her sheepskin gloves turning pale from gripping too tightly.

“President Ning, you wanted to give Miss Luo Xuan the mint water?” The bodyguard hurried over with a water cup in an insulated sleeve, the water still warm.

“Thank you.”

Even with her thoughts adrift and her eyes shadowed, Ning Yiqing’s ingrained manners prevented any lapse in decorum. She nodded slightly to the bodyguard, her demeanor remaining elegant and gentle.

The commotion caught the attention of those ahead. Luo Xuan naturally turned her head, glancing over her shoulder. To Ning Yiqing, the scene resembled a soft, faded old film.

The girl’s profile was sharp and angular, her silver hair cascading down her slender, porcelain-white neck. Bathed in a hazy, ethereal glow, the light seemed to favor her, obscuring the deep, enigmatic eyes hidden in the shadows.

Suddenly, Ning Yiqing felt Luo Xuan was impossibly distant.

Yet they stood mere inches apart.

She felt like she was losing her grip.

“President Ning, what a coincidence!” Xia Zhiwan broke the silence first, greeting Ning Yiqing with a smile.

“Not by chance,” Ning Yiqing replied calmly, her gaze fixed on Luo Xuan. “I came to see Xiao Xuan.”

Xia Zhiwan’s gaze followed Ning Yiqing’s, and for a moment, it seemed as if all the spring sunlight had converged on Luo Xuan.

Beneath the narrow brim of her baseball cap, Luo Xuan tilted her chin slightly, her sharp, porcelain-white jawline resembling a blooming white camellia. “President Ning, is there something urgent?”

Ning Yiqing had never seen Luo Xuan like this. The girl she knew had been docile, rebellious, innocent, romantic, even willful and temperamental. But she had never witnessed this detached indifference, as if Ning Yiqing were merely an insignificant passerby, as if something had settled into place while something else had vanished like smoke.

She unconsciously forgot that the permanent mark within her body was gradually fading. Perhaps the lingering intensity of their last encounter—the deep pheromonal exchange, the kisses, embraces, tender entwinement, and the lingering taste of marrow—had led her to believe it would never change.

“Xiao Xuan, if you’re going out, you must take the doctor with you, and remember your mint water.”

The woman’s voice was gentle and even, carrying its usual elegant cadence. Luo Xuan glanced at the vibrant green mint leaves floating in the woman’s thermos and suddenly chuckled.

The laugh was unrestrained and innocent, like wild brambles overgrown yet glistening with clear dew.

“President Ning, we’re divorced. Even the last lingering ties will gradually fade away,” Luo Xuan said, pulling her backpack strap with one hand. Her collarbone, pale as frost, peeked out from beneath her hoodie, like a cold, flavorless frost flower.

Ning Yiqing froze for a moment, but she insisted, “Don’t be stubborn. I won’t feel at ease if you go abroad without a doctor.”

The woman’s voice always carried a husky, gentle sensuality that unconsciously captivated you, making you believe the moonlight shone only on you, like a lingering, incurable cold.

The smile on Luo Xuan’s face faded. Her raven-feather lashes veiled her enigmatic gaze, and her golden-green eyes made her appear mysteriously cold and otherworldly when she wasn’t smiling.

“I’ve already had the surgery. What more do you want?”

*Saying you’re worried about me? That’s the biggest joke I’ve ever heard.*

*I love you, but I’m going to marry her.*

She had dissected those words a hundred times, understanding the woman’s underlying logic.

To Ning Yiqing, love was worthless—just a heart, its joys and sorrows tied to another person. It was far more efficient and secure to negotiate a project and wield tens or hundreds of billions.

But Luo Xuan was different. She was willing to bear uncontrollable risks for true love, defying the so-called logic of business investment by pouring in resources relentlessly, regardless of cost.

And so, she lost everything.

Being abandoned by someone standing at the pinnacle of a business empire was inevitable.

But defeat was defeat. She dared to love, and she dared to lose.

“Xiao Xuan, I… I’m so worried about you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Don’t worry. I’m really fine. The surgery was a success, with no adverse reactions. You’ll soon reap the benefits and get everything you wanted.”

This was the arrogance and confidence of those in power. They could dictate whether you lived or died.

Now that she didn’t want you to be willful, it seemed your only path was to obey earnestly.

Sometimes, this woman treated “love” like a project, meticulously advancing each stage: marriage, flowers, tenderness, divorce, regret, and finally, remorse.

But emotions couldn’t be managed with such calculated precision. In this realm of profit, speaking of love was a profound insult to the very concept.

“Xiao Xuan…” Ning Yiqing was reluctant to discuss the marking, perhaps out of avoidance. In that moment, she hadn’t fully processed her feelings. “You haven’t been to the hospital for a follow-up in over ten days. Shall I accompany you?”

“Thank you for your concern, President Ning,” Luo Xuan said wearily, her eyes closed. “Life and death are predetermined; we can’t force fate.”

Ning Yiqing couldn’t bear to hear Luo Xuan speak like that. Her brow furrowed deeply as she said, her voice heavy, “I told you I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

Luo Xuan felt neither sorrow nor joy at these words. She could only laugh and cry uncontrollably, her heart pounding with exhaustion. The woman’s voice, low, gentle, and so full of affection, left her dazed.

She had always been like this, lost in illusions—mistaking her own importance, believing in Ning Yiqing’s love, imagining a future together.

If Ning Yiqing was at fault, it was only for being too gentle, even her words of parting sounding deeply affectionate.

But this was all perfectly normal—misunderstanding affection, loving the wrong person.

Luo Xuan had already told herself a thousand times not to hate her.

Hate was useless, so she had genuinely tried to forget her.

She was working hard to forget her. The process might be slow, but like riding a chestnut pony, once she set off, she wouldn’t look back.

“It’s okay. Those things… I’m almost over them. You don’t need to remember them either.”

*What should I forget?*

Luo Xuan had reached a point where she could speak these words with a calm, detached tone, as if advising herself. It was almost a form of liberation, a sense of release.

Ning Yiqing’s fingers trembled slightly as she gripped her thermos, but her innate elegance remained unshaken. Just as with her actions, no matter the turmoil within, her expression remained composed and serene.

“Drink some mint water,” Ning Yiqing said, handing Luo Xuan the cup. Her voice carried a measured, dignified cadence, neither hurried nor slow, as if everything were perfectly under control, without exception.

“No, thank you,” Luo Xuan replied, a sudden surge of anger rising within her. Beneath the brim of her baseball cap, her golden-green eyes flickered with a faint crimson. “President Ning must have more important people to care for and more pressing matters to attend to. Why waste your time on me?”

“It’s not a waste, Xiao Xuan. I’ll give you everything I can.”

Luo Xuan lowered the black brim of her cap, the pale, sharp corners of her lips curving into a blade-like angle.

This was Ning Yiqing: powerful, respected, and dignified, yet her affection came with boundaries. Her tenderness was a condescending act of charity from a position of superiority.

“President Ning,” Luo Xuan said, her anger subsiding into weariness and detachment, “when I said I would forget you, I wasn’t joking. You don’t need to feel guilty or try to compensate me.”

A fleeting flicker of impatience and displeasure crossed Ning Yiqing’s face, vanishing like mist at dusk.

Though her expression remained impeccably composed, the mere coldness of her presence, characteristic of someone accustomed to authority, was enough to freeze the surrounding atmosphere.

“Um, Chairman Ning, shouldn’t you be with your fiancée, Luo Wei? What brings you here to see Luo Xuan?” Xia Zhiwan interjected, her voice neither loud nor soft, yet it exploded between them like a thunderclap. “Surely you’re not here to ask Luo Xuan for a wedding gift, are you? I’m pretty sure she already gave you one.”

“Miss Xia, why ask the obvious? The engagement banquet has already been canceled.”

Ning Yiqing cast a barely perceptible glance at Luo Xuan, her cool, detached eyes seeming to harbor a flicker of hope she herself might not have acknowledged.

“But there will be another engagement banquet, Chairman Ning. You know it, I know it, and Xuanxuan knows it even better,” Xia Zhiwan countered relentlessly.

“We’re going to miss our flight, Wanwan. Let’s go.”

With that, Luo Xuan turned away, one hand tucked into her pocket. Her profile, as smooth as jade or porcelain, was sharp as thorns, bristling with hidden barbs.

Ning Yiqing gripped her gloves so tightly they crumpled in her hand.

Had Luo Xuan… truly let go?

So quickly, so decisively.

After passing through airport security, a girl with a backpack walked alongside another person. She casually flicked the bell on her cat-eye glasses, her silver hair cascading loosely around her shoulders, her expression both languid and innocent.

A faint smile curved her pale lips as she listened attentively to Xia Zhiwan’s rambling, seemingly completely focused.

The waiting area was sparsely populated, with small groups scattered far apart.

“Little Luo Xuan, if you really want to go with her, I wouldn’t mind. There’ll be plenty of other fashion shows to attend anyway,” Xia Zhiwan said after taking a sip of bottled water, carefully choosing her words.

“You saw through me. I’m sorry,” Luo Xuan murmured, lowering her head with a soft laugh. The brim of her cap couldn’t contain her soft hair, which tumbled messily across her forehead.

Xia Zhiwan’s heart stirred slightly. She couldn’t shake the feeling that the girl before her was as delicate as jade bamboo, poised to shatter at any moment.

She said, her words betraying her true feelings, “Just like fish can’t live without water, it’s only natural you can’t live without her.”

*Can fish really not live without water?* Luo Xuan tilted her head back, revealing a face so pale it was almost translucent. “If I were a fish, I’d rather die of thirst than drink a single drop of her water again.”

“She’s already called off the engagement. Maybe you still have a chance,” Xia Zhiwan ventured cautiously.

“People who know their place don’t entertain such fantasies,” Luo Xuan said, turning her face into the shadows. “I happen to be someone who understands my place.”

Ning Yiqing was like the moon in the sky, the snow on the mountain peaks—a celestial body forever beyond her reach.

Luo Xuan lowered her gaze, her voice barely audible even to herself. “Millions admire her. I’m just the smallest, most insignificant one among them.”

“But can your body handle it?” Xia Zhiwan sighed softly.

“It can,” Luo Xuan replied, though a sharp pain pierced her chest. She lifted her head to gaze out the window, letting the sunlight warm her face. “I want to see more of this world, so I have to cherish every opportunity.”

Perhaps she was still sad, simply because she hadn’t seen the ocean yet.

A trace of regret lingered, but she would find her own way to make up for it.

This was about the ocean, not about Ning Yiqing.

The sunlight danced across the young woman’s pale, delicate skin. Her slender frame moved with the grace of a white crane wading through water, its majestic presence tinged with a hint of melancholy.

Airplanes took off and landed on the airport runway, their constant motion mirroring the cycles of meeting and parting.

“I’m so sorry I’m late! The meeting ran long,” a man in a color-blocked cashmere sweater said cheerfully, his long hair tied back in a stylish, handsome manner. “Hello, Luo Xuan. I’m He Ze. I’ve heard so much about you. Finally, we have a chance to talk properly.”

“President He, you flatter me,” Luo Xuan said, rising to shake hands with the refined man before her.

They had met briefly before, introduced by Xia Zhiwan, and he had even invited Luo Xuan to model for his company. But with their busy schedules, she hadn’t expected to see him again.

Xia Zhiwan composed herself, her smile radiant as she said, “Let me reintroduce you. President He has been immersed in the global fashion industry for over a decade, maintaining close personal relationships with numerous brand designers and founders. The prestigious fashion magazine *Lure* is also under his company’s umbrella.”

“You’re too kind, Xiaxia. I’m just a wayward son who strayed from the family path. But Luo Xuan, your woodcarvings have rekindled my desire to follow in my father’s footsteps,” He Ze said with a charming smile. “Luo Xuan, would you consider becoming our woodcarver—for both Xiaxia and me?”

“And a model too,” Xia Zhiwan added with a flirtatious wink.

“I’m not sure I’m up to the task,” Luo Xuan replied, unaccustomed to such warmth and enthusiasm. She lowered her gaze and said, “You know my health isn’t good.”

“Xuanxuan, you were just telling me you wanted to see more of the world. Why are you backing down now?”

He Ze leaned his suitcase against the bench and sat down, chuckling softly.

“Good wood is rare, and skilled sculptors even rarer. Light and shadow, blade and mark—they all need a storyteller to weave their tales. You, Miss Luo Xuan, are precisely such a person, capable of carving profound experiences into the hearts of many.”

From their first meeting, He Ze sensed something different about Luo Xuan—something deeper than mere physical appearance.

He believed that the quality within her—a kind of beauty—could transcend time and space, striking people’s hearts in a single moment.

Like cherry blossoms dancing in a deathly gale, though lost and uncertain of their path, they unleashed their full essence with violent abandon, hurtling toward self-destruction.

Perhaps mad, perhaps unacceptable to the world, but by expressing oneself with fierce sincerity, one could live through death.

He Ze said meaningfully, “You are a true wood sculptor, not just carving decaying wood but also sculpting yourself. You are the one we’ve been searching for.”

Out of courtesy, Luo Xuan had already removed her baseball cap. Her striking beauty constantly drew envious or covetous gazes.

“It would be rude to refuse again, but I’m not a very stable person,” Luo Xuan said earnestly. “My body is unstable, and sometimes my emotions are too.”

She understood herself well. At times, she had to deliberately suppress the violent, rebellious monster within her to live a normal life.

But in the end, she always failed.

Luo Xuan shook her head with a bitter smile. The line between monster and deity remained distinct.

“Many of your mother’s wood carvings have ended up overseas. Don’t you want to reclaim them through your own efforts?”

Suddenly, He Ze glimpsed a fleeting ambition in the girl’s mismatched eyes, so quick it might have been an illusion. Luo Xuan was clearly just a delicate, beautiful girl, occasionally revealing flashes of rebelliousness and sharpness.

“I’ll think about it carefully,” Luo Xuan nodded, her expression earnest and sincere.

“I knew I hadn’t misjudged you…” He Ze grabbed a bottle of mineral water, about to take a smiling sip, when he heard someone calling out behind him.

“Second Brother, why didn’t you wait for me? Running off to a fashion show overseas by yourself—I’ll be so bored!”

A lively female voice, brimming with the confidence and cheerfulness of someone pampered and spoiled, made He Ze frown. He thought he’d finally shaken off his little sister, only to be cornered by this little devil again.

“Qiu Yue, I’m going to work, not play. Why don’t you go shopping with Mom? I’ll transfer you 500,000 yuan, okay?” He Ze said, his face full of helpless affection as he gazed at his youngest sister, his eyes shining with fondness.

“Hmm, 500,000 yuan is too little. Double it,” He Qiuyue pouted, shamelessly wheedling her second brother. Noticing the silver-haired girl beside them out of the corner of her eye, she immediately scowled and huffed, “Luo Xuan? You’re here too?”

Hearing her name, Luo Xuan’s wandering gaze snapped into focus, landing on He Qiuyue’s openly displeased expression.

“Miss He, long time no see.”

“It has been a while,” He Qiuyue said, planting her hands on her hips and stepping in front of Luo Xuan. “Do you know why Sister Yiqing called off the engagement?”

Luo Xuan tilted her head to look at her, then lowered her lashes, replying with feigned indifference, “I don’t.”

“Rumor has it that Old Master Ning wants to arrange a better match for Sister Yiqing. The Luo Family simply isn’t good enough, inside or out.”

Xia Zhiwan frowned and shot He Ze a warning glance, but he couldn’t restrain He Qiuyue.

“You probably don’t know what kind of Alpha Sister Yiqing likes, do you?” He Qiuyue’s expression was serious and earnest, as if she were revealing a profound truth. “I heard her say it herself: she prefers Alphas who are elegant, intellectual, and refined, preferably someone she shares common interests with, like neurobiology.”

“He Qiuyue, shut up and go home right now!” He Ze’s anger flared, his dark brows furrowing into a menacing glare.

“You don’t understand her at all,” He Qiuyue said, pushing away He Ze’s hand. “Marrying you only made Yi Qing realize how mismatched you are. If it’s not right, it’s just not right.”

“He Qiuyue, have you lost your mind? Are you all going crazy over Ning… over her?”

He Ze glanced apologetically at Luo Xuan, knowing his sister had always harbored feelings for Ning Yiqing.

But the king desired, while the goddess remained unmoved. They had tried countless times to dissuade He Qiuyue at home, only to have their efforts backfire.

Ning Huan, a subsidiary of the Ning Group, had several business dealings with them.

To put it bluntly, the Ning Family was far beyond their social reach. Even a few words from Ning Yiqing to his younger sister could be considered a condescending gesture.

“Let’s board,” Xia Zhiwan said, grabbing Luo Xuan’s arm and pulling her toward the boarding gate as the boarding process began. She glared at He Ze, her face darkening with displeasure. “He Ze, hurry up and board too.”

“Luo Xuan, I dare you to bet with me,” He Qiuyue challenged, her voice sharp. “I bet Sister Yiqing will marry me.”

The mechanical voice calmly announced boarding instructions, while the flight attendants smiled sweetly and gently urged them forward.

“Miss He, I’m not interested in betting,” Luo Xuan replied, adjusting her baseball cap. The small bell on the brim jingled softly as she turned her porcelain-white profile against the light. “But you’re right. I wish you courage in pursuing your love and hope your dreams come true.”

He Qiuyue stood frozen in anger, completely unprepared for Luo Xuan’s unwavering indifference. It was as if Luo Xuan had completely let go of Ning Yiqing, no longer caring or paying attention.

When she had first learned of Luo Wei’s engagement to Ning Yiqing, He Qiuyue had retreated home, heartbroken and convinced all hope was lost. But when she heard that Ning Yiqing had broken off the engagement, she felt as if she had been resurrected.

Though she still couldn’t capture Ning Yiqing’s attention, she clung to the hope that an opportunity would arise.

One thing puzzled her: Luo Xuan had suffered a crushing defeat, yet it was Ning Yiqing who now appeared utterly devastated.

What did Luo Xuan possess that warranted such special treatment from Ning Yiqing? Her pheromone level was pitifully low, and her family background was utterly unremarkable.

What exactly had allowed Luo Xuan to earn Ning Yiqing’s favor? He Qiuyue felt both resentful and helpless, realizing her frantic efforts only made her look like a fool.

She resolved to call Ning Yiqing.

The Gulfstream jet roared down the runway, gradually lifting into the clouds and vanishing into the wind.

Inside the soundproof business car, the ride was eerily silent, the air subtly scented with an elegant fragrance. Ning Yiqing usually relished such tranquility and privacy, but today the silence felt unbearable.

She adjusted her cuffs, occasionally touching the cool Buddhist prayer beads on her wrist. Her expression was dazed, her eyes half-closed, her usually composed and refined face now showing signs of fatigue and distraction.

Following her usual routine, she woke up at 7:30 a.m. daily, spending half an hour in quiet meditation. Before breakfast, she drank a cup of boiled water that had cooled to room temperature. During her commute to the office, she read twenty minutes of classic detective novels.

This routine had remained unchanged since she joined the company at eighteen, starting from the bottom and working her way up. Neither wind nor rain had ever disrupted it.

These were her rare moments of peaceful reading, sitting in the clean, orderly car compartment, free from utilitarian motives.

Driven purely by passion, it was her only refuge from the endless, monotonous official duties and social obligations—a rare taste of freedom.

However, due to her late night yesterday, the plain water had been replaced with oolong tea, and the half-read novel remained unopened beneath her icy, jade-like fingers.

Even her beloved novel couldn’t hold her attention.

Her phone, resting on the seat, rang repeatedly. She glanced at the unfamiliar name with a flicker of anticipation, yet, unusually, she didn’t want to answer, not even to feign politeness.

“Return to the garden villa,” she instructed.

The driver immediately turned the car around, inwardly puzzled by the president’s decision to skip the office after working tirelessly 365 days a year. But he wisely refrained from asking questions.

For the next hour, the persistent caller refused to give up, ringing every few minutes with unwavering persistence.

The next day, at the Ning Group headquarters on the 31st floor of Ningyi Building, the woman sat upright in her leather chair after washing her hands, meticulously wiping each of her jade-like fingers.

A mountain of documents lay before her. Ning Yiqing held a fountain pen, her gaze occasionally drifting to the potted asparagus fern on the corner of her desk. She rubbed her temples from time to time, as if suffering from a headache.

After knocking, Lan Leren entered to replace the cold tea on the hardwood tea table. She quietly arranged several plates of crispy tempura, lychee rose cakes, and milk shortbread.

According to Ning Yiqing’s strict habits, every aspect of her life—walking, sitting, eating, and resting—followed rigid rules. The office was for work, meetings, and lectures, never for eating or drinking.

This discipline and etiquette were ingrained in the Ning Family’s very DNA.

But Ning Yiqing had barely eaten properly in the past two days, and Lan Leren worried she would fall ill from hunger.

“President Ning, it’s almost lunchtime. The Old Master sent the master chef from the company cafeteria to prepare medicinal tonic soup for you.”

“How has Xiao Xuan been lately?”

Lan Leren guessed that the tonic soup, infused with thousand-year-old ginseng, would end up in her and the assistant’s stomachs again. It tasted good, but drinking it left her feeling guilty.

“The bodyguards you assigned have been with them constantly. They seem to be doing well these past few days, living quite comfortably.”

The office fell silent again. A gentle breeze drifted in through the half-open bay window, causing the delicate, emerald-green fronds of the asparagus fern to sway softly.

Seeing Ning Yiqing’s gaze lowered, her expression focused as she reviewed documents, Lan Leren began to back out slowly. Suddenly, the woman’s cold voice cut through the air.

“Having a good time?”

“Yes, Miss Luo Xuan seems to be enjoying herself immensely. President Xia has posted numerous photos on Weibo and WeChat: them watching fashion shows, exploring night markets, and visiting amusement parks. Miss Luo Xuan appears to be in excellent health in the photos.”

To be honest, Lan Leren’s description was simple and dry, yet vivid images inexplicably formed in Ning Yiqing’s mind.

A foreign land after the rain, its skies clear and bright, teeming with tourists admiring peach blossoms and savoring local delicacies. Spring had just arrived, and the sunset’s golden glow bathed mountain trails in breathtaking beauty.

Ning Yiqing took a long, measured breath, her restless desires igniting like sparks. “I feel like having a drink.”

“You haven’t eaten yet, and drinking on an empty stomach is bad for you,” Lan Leren advised softly. “Besides, you rarely drink alcohol.”

“Let’s have some tea first.” Lan Leren brought over a warm cup of tea and a plate of cold snacks and pastries. “I specifically instructed the kitchen to use less sugar. It should suit your taste.”

“No steamed egg custard?” the woman murmured to herself, her voice barely audible, like a dream.

“What did you say?” Lan Leren asked, surprised that Ning Yiqing would mention such a simple dish. She had never seen the woman order it before.

“I’ll have a plate of candied cherries,” Ning Yiqing said, holding a saucer in one hand while stroking the handle of her white porcelain cup with the other. Her ink-black eyes were filled with a distant, ethereal quality, and the cuff of her white shirt revealed a glimpse of her pale wrist, adorned with a snow-blue bracelet.

“Cherries?” Lan Leren’s heart jolted with alarm. She wondered if her suspicions were correct: the disappearance of the permanent mark was having a far greater impact on Ning Yiqing than she had imagined.

She had assumed the mark’s fading would gradually diminish its influence, but now it seemed as though some kind of storm was intensifying.

The woman lowered her gaze, picked up the teapot, and refilled her cup, her tone as calm and detached as ever. “Yes, to pair with the tea.”

“President Ning, why don’t you call Miss Luo Xuan?” Lan Leren suggested, her thinking straightforward. *If you miss her, take the initiative now. There’s still time to turn things around.* “Or Miss Luo Xuan might be back in a few days. It shouldn’t be hard to arrange a meeting.”

“Never mind, Le Ran. No wine, and no cherries.”

Lan Leren stared, dumbfounded. Her expression shifted from confusion to shock, then back to deeper bewilderment.

Having followed Ning Yiqing for so long, the woman had always been decisive and efficient. This uncharacteristic hesitation and indecision made it clear that something was truly different.

“It’s not like I can’t live without her,” Ning Yiqing murmured to herself, savoring the lingering cherry pheromone in the air.

A dull, damp ache seemed to lurk deep within her heart, faint and indistinct, like fine sand stirring slowly and gently in the calm depths of her mind.

Because it was hidden beneath the surface, silent and dark, she had almost convinced herself it was nothing serious.

Just then, Qin Shiyi rushed in, barging through the office door without hesitation. “Yi Qing, you’re already losing people to poaching? I heard Luo Xuan might be leaving the country and planning to never return with Xia Zhiwan?”

Ning Yiqing’s head snapped up, her eyes freezing over like snow-covered frost.

Undeterred, Qin Shiyi continued her wild speculations, rambling on as she guessed:

“If this were a third-rate novel, Xia Zhiwan would propose to Luo Xuan. They’d have an Alpha-Omega union, pop out twins within three years, bring their genius babies back to shame everyone, and climb to the pinnacle of success! Haha, wouldn’t that be hilarious?”