Foolishly Flirting with the White Moonlight Leads to Being Marked - Chapter 2

The thick heat of summer rushed toward her. The fierce sun hung high, making everything around her blindingly bright under the intense light. Standing at the entrance, a thin layer of sweat broke out on Yan Qingqiu’s forehead.

She desperately wanted to go back in time and slap herself awake.

But could she really be blamed for this? Who doesn’t pull some wild stunts when playing a game?

Clearly, the game had been “fishing” for a reaction—luring her in with a beauty first. She only let herself go and acted reckless because she’d fallen for the bait.

Afraid of wasting time, she didn’t dare dwell on her anger. She gave herself three seconds to adjust her breathing, then turned her head to look at the “knowing” butler.

At the very least, she had to figure out the situation to keep people from saying she’d gone insane. A simple case of “knowing one’s enemy”—if she was about to be killed, she needed to know which direction to run.

“What is my relationship with them?”

As the butler opened his mouth to speak, Yan Qingqiu interrupted, “Describe it at double your usual speed.”

The butler didn’t suspect her; the Young Miss had ‘gone off’ plenty of times before. He sped up his speech: “Fu Ye is your fiancé whom you are about to marry. He once had a special fondness for Miss Song Qingre and often confessed his love to her from afar. Today, without informing you, he actually met with Miss Song behind your back… You like him so much, yet he wants to hold both the ‘Rose’ and the ‘Moonlight’ at the same time. His lingering attachments are truly detestable.”

After speaking, the butler felt a bit puzzled. Why did the Young Miss want to hear this now?

He glanced over and saw her face tense, her fingers clenched into fists. It looked like she was gathering her rage.

The butler added, “Miss Song only returned to the country a few days ago…”

“Song Qingre…” Yan Qingqiu muttered the name. Even the name sounded like she was “not to be messed with.” (Note: Qingre sounds like “easy to provoke” in Chinese; she’s noting the irony).

“Wait here. I’m going in right now to kick his head crooked.”

“As far as I know, it seems Miss Song Qingre raises a Doberman,” the butler added, immediately imagining a scenario where Fu Ye had failed to hide the evidence and the Young Miss had caught some dog hair on his clothes.

The butler asked, confused, “Miss, what are you planning to do?”

Yan Qingqiu didn’t have much time left. She couldn’t afford to think.

As she walked, she asked the system: [Is there no shortcut?]

System: [Currently, no. It seems you didn’t consider taking a shortcut originally; you wanted to handle these two points personally.]

Well, wasn’t that the truth.

Beating up a scumbag and force-kissing a beauty—who would dare do that in reality? She just wanted to have some fun in a game. But now the game was reality, and her life was on the line.

The butler watched as the Young Miss marched inside, full of vigor and aggression.

Fu Ye had his back to her and hadn’t noticed her arrival, but the beautiful woman was looking straight at Yan Qingqiu. With every step closer, that peerless face became clearer in her eyes.

There was a big difference between reality and a game. A beauty in reality was alive; every glance and smile was vivid. A few hours ago, Yan Qingqiu had been lured by her beauty, wanting to see Song Qingre lose control, wanting to develop things further, wanting to play with her… Now, she was just thinking about the woman’s lips.

With every step.

A possibility flashed through Yan Qingqiu’s mind: How do I touch Song Qingre’s lips? Should she throw herself into her arms like a shy, cute girl and beg for a kiss? No, that was too out of character. Would Song Qingre push her away and then turn the tables by kicking her head crooked?

“Is that so? Then who do you think is better—me or her?” Song Qingre’s tone was indifferent, as if casually responding to Fu Ye, but it happened to be perfectly timed for Yan Qingqiu to hear.

Fu Ye, however, was stirred by her words. Without a thought, he looked into Song Qingre’s eyes with sincerity and deep affection: “You.”

“And her?”

“Qingqiu…” Fu Ye’s tone trailed off. “She’s the same as always—willful, not mature enough. There has always been a place for you in my heart… actually, you are the unique one.”

The subtext was clear: the White Moonlight was once unattainable, but now that she was back, what did a “Rose” matter? He was looking at the moon while tending his roses.

Scumbag. “Unique” my foot.

Fu Ye was still talking when he suddenly felt a chill nearby. Before he could turn around, he was struck in the forehead by a high-heeled shoe. He hissed in pain, his head spinning. Yan Qingqiu gripped the shoe and hammered it against his shoulder. What an idiot; she couldn’t stand a word he said. Beating him didn’t weigh on her conscience at all.

“Yan, hiss… Qingqiu, let me explain…” Fu Ye raised his hand to block, his hand stinging from the blows. “Let go of me!”

Yan Qingqiu rained down blows frantically. Her body temperature surged from the exertion. Fu Ye’s neck remained stubbornly straight; his head wasn’t “crooked” at all. He reached out and grabbed her wrist with such force that she felt her bones might snap.

“You’ve misunderstood.” Fu Ye looked her in the eye, acting as if he had done nothing wrong and Yan Qingqiu was the one in error. “Stop making a scene.”

“I’m hitting you precisely because you’re a scumbag!”

Yan Qingqiu swung the heel at him again. Before she could strike, her movements were restricted. Fu Ye, seeing stars from the beating, pushed her away forcefully. He raised his hand as if to slap her. Yan Qingqiu, barefoot on the floor, stumbled back and almost fell. She grabbed the table for support. Her shoe fell to the floor. She looked up and caught sight of the woman opposite them.

Song Qingre had been acting as if none of this involved her. Her finger was hooked through the handle of her coffee cup, her thumb pressing against the white porcelain, tracing it idly. The interest in her eyes suggested she was watching a good show.

Thinking of Task #2, Yan Qingqiu took the opportunity to slump down right next to Song Qingre. A faint citrus scent drifted over, teasing her neck. It smelled so sweet.

Song Qingre didn’t move. After a few seconds, she tilted her head to look at her. She looked exactly like the description in the first question: “Eyes shimmering, red lips moist.”

So, she was even more beautiful in reality…

Yan Qingqiu steeled her heart. She pressed her body closer to Song Qingre, leaning right in.

At that moment, Song Qingre’s eyelashes fluttered slightly. She placed her fingers between them, blocking the further advance. Having held the coffee cup for a while, her fingers were warm.

Yan Qingqiu’s cheeks turned a violent red. How strange…

Song Qingre spoke, her voice curious: “Are you going to hit me, too?”

Even if it wasn’t as magically seductive as in the game, the voice didn’t lie. Yan Qingqiu realized instantly: the character in the game hadn’t used a voice actress—that was Song Qingre’s actual voice.

Her voice had a lazy, alluring quality that made Yan Qingqiu’s fever spike. She pressed against Song Qingre’s hand, saying in a slightly softer (but still tense) tone, “Move your fingers.”

To an onlooker, she looked like she was gritting her teeth, ready to devour the woman. Fu Ye, unable to stand her “willfulness,” shouted harshly, “Yan Qingqiu, stop! Who do you think you’re threatening?”

Yan Qingqiu ignored him, looking only at Song Qingre. The fingers were still between them. Yan Qingqiu leaned further; her lips could almost touch the fingers.

They touched.

Song Qingre arched an eyebrow slightly: “Hmm?”

Yan Qingqiu’s brow twitched. She couldn’t take it anymore; she was actually a bit afraid of Song Qingre. After all, this was a woman who could be a temptress one second and an executioner the next.

“My… my hand hurts,” Yan Qingqiu whispered.

“Oh,” Song Qingre nodded.

“…”

Yan Qingqiu bit her lip and leaned in again, intentionally rubbing her lips and jaw against that slender finger. Song Qingre’s eyes flickered. As Yan Qingqiu squeezed into the booth, her arm rubbed against the leather with a soft sound. She met Yan Qingqiu’s gaze steadily. Slowly, Yan Qingqiu’s ears turned red, then began to burn.

System: [Three minutes left. Friendly reminder: A kiss usually needs to last about two minutes to count as ‘breathless.’]

Time was flowing away like water. Yan Qingqiu couldn’t figure out a “pretty” way to do this.

Looking at the female lead now, she felt a bit miserable. She wanted to cry. Forget breathless—she’d never even kissed anyone before, let alone been in love.

Yan Qingqiu glanced at the woman’s nose.

Instead of acting like a “green tea” girl, she might as well be aggressive. She’d just pinch Song Qingre’s nose to stop her breathing and then force a kiss. That way, she’d definitely be breathless.

“What are you thinking?” Song Qingre saw through her little scheme. She pressed her palm against Yan Qingqiu’s forehead and pushed her back with some force.

In Fu Ye’s eyes, Yan Qingqiu’s expression looked distorted and terrifying. He stood up, trying to pull Yan Qingqiu away and toss her aside, positioning himself as Song Qingre’s protector.

Yan Qingqiu swung her hand again.

“Again?” Fu Ye turned to her, frowning, his tone cold. “Yan Qingqiu, my patience has limits.”

The café was upscale and elegant, with a grand piano in the center. Because of Yan Qingqiu’s arrival, the music had stopped long ago. The drama caused everyone to hold their breath.

Yan Qingqiu tilted her head slightly, her beautiful face full of mockery. Combined with her previous actions, she looked like a spoiled, unreasonable brat doing whatever she pleased.

In reality, she was panicking inside.

Fu Ye, having been hit, clearly couldn’t let it go. The system’s warning rang in her head again, urging her to try again.

Fu Ye said in a low voice, “Don’t force me to call off the—”

“Engagement!” Yan Qingqiu cut him off.

Fu Ye froze. It took him a long time to react. “Do you know what you’re saying?” His brow furrowed deeply. “Think carefully. If you beg me later, I won’t marry you no matter how much you throw a tantrum.”

Yan Qingqiu wasn’t listening. She kept looking at his face. In novel terms, he was a rare handsome man—the kind who made “overbearing CEOs” have a face.

Truly a scumbag. His head was like iron, his neck like stone. No matter how she hit him, it wouldn’t tilt. Yan Qingqiu’s hand hurt; her palm was burning.

Fu Ye took a step forward, intending to grab her hand and drag her away so she wouldn’t keep embarrassing herself. Yan Qingqiu’s body instinctively revolted at his touch; she hid her hands behind her. “Don’t touch me.”

Fu Ye’s face was dark. He turned to Song Qingre and said, “Regarding the art exhibition, I’ll contact you later. I’m truly sorry about today.”

He then glanced at Yan Qingqiu. “I will have a good talk with your parents. I was right—you are simply unreasonable.”

He adjusted his suit cuffs, turned coldly, and said, “And Yan Qingqiu, there will come a time when you beg me. As for your family’s business… just wait.”

Yan Qingqiu was furious. Cheating was one thing, but now he was threatening her?

Her ears were filled with the system’s warnings.

[Sorry, Host has not passed Task ①.]

[Countdown initiated!]

[100s]

She didn’t need the system to tell her. After all… as Fu Ye walked away, his head was perfectly straight.

What a blockhead!

Yan Qingqiu was fuming at the scumbag. She still had some logic left; she hadn’t truly tried to kill him. If she killed him, she’d just end up in prison.

System: [Host can try a chop to the shoulder. Fu Ye’s weakness seems to be right there.]

“Why didn’t you say so earlier?”

Every woman for herself.

Yan Qingqiu caught up to him in a few steps. Hearing the noise behind him, Fu Ye stopped, striking a pose as if waiting for her to beg him to change his mind. Yan Qingqiu gathered all her strength, stood on her tiptoes slightly, found the point the system mentioned, and brought her palm down in a sharp chop.

Afraid once wasn’t enough, she did it again. She chopped, and she chopped hard.

Everyone in the café saw the usually spoiled Little Princess of the Yan family looking like she was trying to chop Fu Ye to death, swinging her hand violently at his shoulder.

Other couples fight with “little fists hitting your chest.” For the Yan Princess, it was “I’ll chop you to death!”

Vicious.

Even Song Qingre, who had been a bystander, felt her lips curl into a slight smile at the sight.

The chop didn’t work, so Yan Qingqiu threw a punch.

Dammit, she was so angry, the adrenaline from hitting the scumbag was taking over.

Fu Ye, who was standing straight, didn’t move at first. But when he tried to turn his head to look back, his waist buckled. Fortunately, he caught the table next to him, but he still couldn’t hold himself up. Then, his neck began to tilt, inch by inch.

Not only did his cervical spine hurt, but his lumbar spine seemed to give way too.

Under everyone’s watchful eyes, his neck just… tilted.

He tried to lift it, but the pain was too much.

“?”

No matter how handsome a face is, it can’t survive a “crooked neck.” Fu Ye looked at Yan Qingqiu with his tilted head in disbelief. He wanted to say something, his lips moved, but he realized everyone was staring at him in shock.

Yan Qingqiu was breathing heavily. Her mind was full of the system’s [Congratulations] and [Keep up the good work].

Song Qingre seemed to have finished watching the show. She got up from the booth to leave. Yan Qingqiu hurried over and grabbed her arm.

The two of them brushed past Fu Ye.

When Fu Ye looked at them, he tweaked his neck and winced.

He blinked and watched them while maintaining his crooked-neck posture. Yan Qingqiu didn’t take more than a few steps before she “lost her balance” and fell backward. Song Qingre’s reaction was swift, reaching out to catch her waist.

But as Song Qingre supported her, Yan Qingqiu took the chance to shove Song Qingre against the wall. She grabbed her shoulders and leaned in. Under dozens of astonished gazes, she leaned forward and kissed Song Qingre’s lips with desperate urgency.

Because Fu Ye’s neck was tilted, his vision was diagonal.

The light from outside hit the café entrance. The two bodies were bathed in sunlight—Yan Qingqiu’s white dress brushing against Song Qingre’s black velvet.

Because of the white dress’s intrusion, Song Qingre had to step back; her long legs were caught in Yan Qingqiu’s flowing white hem.

The scene was indescribably beautiful.

It looked great.

But that wasn’t the point.

The point was, Yan Qingqiu was going too far!

She actually kissed Song Qingre?

Yan Qingqiu also felt she was going too far. Her heart was racing so fast the vibration made her chest hurt. If she left Song Qingre, she felt like she might drop dead any second.

She didn’t want to die; she was using this kiss to extend her life. If their lips parted, she might die.

Fortunately, Song Qingre didn’t push her away.

The citrus scent grew more intense. That kind of thirst—the urge to bite and let the juices flow—rushed up.

Even in the face of death, a person can still feel shame.

Yan Qingqiu was crying on the inside, her face was red and her ears were burning, but her mouth gave the feedback: So sweet.

She breathed deeply, her breath warming Song Qingre’s nose. Song Qingre’s eyes didn’t move until her breathing slowed slightly. Then, Song Qingre’s long, curled lashes fluttered gently.

Kissing the White Moonlight until she was breathless was much harder than kicking Fu Ye’s head crooked.

Song Qingre’s fingers slid up from Yan Qingqiu’s waist, landing on her chest and slowly pushing her back. When they were slightly apart, her voice was very soft, her lips brushing against the peak of Yan Qingqiu’s upper lip.

It was as if she inhaled a little of her as she spoke.

It was itchy and tingly. Song Qingre asked, “Aren’t we going to stop yet?”

Yan Qingqiu’s heart ached. She pressed forward again. “Don’t stop.”