Foolishly Flirting with the White Moonlight Leads to Being Marked - Chapter 5

Yan Qingqiu sat up to check her body. Her skin was as fair as ever, without any new bite marks, but she felt… sticky.

She cupped her face and rubbed it hard, feeling too embarrassed to speak.

If she were alone, it wouldn’t matter, but Song Qingre had been lying right next to her. Did Song Qingre see everything when she woke up?

I’m losing my humanity, I’m losing my humanity.

Did they… did she sleep with Song Qingre yesterday? Why didn’t she have any memory of it?

Yan Qingqiu leaned back a bit to get a better look, touching and rubbing her neck with her fingers. She felt a small protrusion, but very little else.

She had no impression of yesterday’s events; she had slept very deeply. However, muscle memory vaguely told her that this spot had been incredibly hot—hot enough to burn.

Both of them were Alphas, so they were supposed to repel each other… but that repulsion felt way too “intense.”

Yan Qingqiu hurried to the bathroom to shower. While scrubbing, she felt something was off—she was too “slippery.” She found some clothes to put on, then squatted on the floor with a beet-red face to hand-wash her underwear.

Was it a mutual interaction between them yesterday? Or was it just her acting alone?

What a headache.

After washing them, she hung them on the balcony to dry. She then gathered the rest of the laundry for the servants. She asked, “Where are Song Qingre’s clothes? I don’t see them.”

“Miss Song’s clothes were taken out to be washed early this morning. We tried to insist, but Miss Song was too polite,” the maid said.

Yan Qingqiu pointed to the pajamas on top from yesterday. “Take these to be washed and dried. I want to take them with me. Can you have them ready in half an hour?”

“Yes, Miss.”

“Hurry up,” Yan Qingqiu urged. She had woken up early today. She still had three hours before the task deadline, so there was no need to rush. She called the butler over.

The butler wore a silver tailcoat today, with an added pair of glasses on the bridge of his nose. He respectfully handed Yan Qingqiu a piece of paper. “This is what I wrote yesterday. These are just the things I remember vividly; I can’t recall the rest just yet.”

“It must be the truth. Not a single word of lies,” Yan Qingqiu reminded him repeatedly.

“I know,” the butler said.

Yan Qingqiu originally wanted to read it first, but another matter was more important. She fished out her card. “I had a bad connection yesterday and entered the wrong PIN. I accidentally locked the card. Go unlock it for me.”

“That requires your ID and household register, and you must handle it in person,” the butler said.

“So much trouble?”

“If you’re not in a hurry, I can transfer this month’s pocket money to a new card for you first,” the butler offered.

Yan Qingqiu’s eyes lit up slightly. Pocket money. She had never had pocket money before. In the real world, she was a loner who grew up in an orphanage; the mere phrase “pocket money” was enough to excite her. “Is it more than usual this month?”

“No, it’s still one million.”

“!”

One million! A sugar mama, she was a sugar mama!

Yan Qingqiu huffed, her heart racing with excitement. “Why so little? The season is changing soon; I need to buy new clothes and bags. Tell them to send more. I’ll begrudgingly use this million for now.”

“Very well, I will inform the Master,” the butler said.

“Drive me to find Song Qingre. Confirm if she’s at her studio first.”

As the butler went to make the call, he added, “Will you be having breakfast at home?”

Yan Qingqiu’s mind whirred. “Pack it up. I’ll take it and eat with her.”

She would go straight to Song Qingre. Song Qingre might not necessarily want to see her, but if she brought breakfast, she’d have to let her in, right?

The household staff was efficient. Within twenty minutes, everything was ready, and she headed to the studio.

In the car, Yan Qingqiu opened the note the butler had given her. On the first read, her eyes widened slightly. On the second read, they widened even more.

She unfolded the paper and read it yet again.

[I remember it well: the snow was falling heavily, and the plum blossoms were in full bloom. Miss’s cheeks were burning red, and her eyes were moist. Miss Song sat beside her, coaxing her with candy, but Miss tilted her head away and refused to eat.

Miss Song tried to coax her twice more, but Miss still wouldn’t listen. In a fit of pique, she blocked her ears to ignore her. They sat under the plum tree—both adults now, yet looking small against the scenery, their cheeks reddened by the wind. Miss Song took off her scarf to wrap it around Miss, but Miss snatched it off and threw it on the ground.

Miss Song didn’t get angry. She picked the scarf up again, shook off the snowflakes, and helplessly wrapped it around her again. She gathered Miss’s freezing red hands into her palms and rubbed them gently. “Qiuqiu, don’t be like this.”

Miss ignored her, her eyes damp again.

Miss Song looked back at her.

In all the world, they could only see each other’s reflections in their black pupils. The snow, the plum blossoms, and the roses buried in the drifts were all just backdrops.

It was freezing outside. I figured Miss just had that kind of temper and prepared to call them inside. It wouldn’t be worth it if they got frostbite. As I walked over to speak, I heard Miss sobbing, saying aggrievedly: “Yesterday we clearly agreed on kissing on the mouth. Today it’s still just the cheek. Kissing the eyes is boring. I want to kiss on the mouth!”]

Yan Qingqiu: “!”

Kissing on the mouth! Based on the description, they must have been sixteen or seventeen at the time. By that age, they definitely knew the significance of a kiss. And Yan Qingqiu was the one demanding a kiss from Song Qingre? This…

Furthermore, the information she saw yesterday clearly pointed to a love triangle: Yan Qingqiu liked Fu Ye, and Fu Ye liked Song Qingre.

She asked the system: [Is there progress in the plot? Is this true or false?]

The cold, expressionless system was silent for a few seconds before saying: [According to the system’s judgment, this is not counted in the main plot. As for true or false… I’m not entirely sure either.]

The butler probably wasn’t lying. He had no reason to write such things for her. It couldn’t be that he was hallucinating from shipping them too hard, right?

Yan Qingqiu thought about messaging the butler but didn’t know how to ask. Shouldn’t she, the person involved, know best?

Moreover! The butler’s writing was actually quite good. Did they ever actually kiss?

Yan Qingqiu messaged the butler: [Bring me ‘Chapter 2’ when I get home tonight. Don’t write any nonsense and don’t use any filters. I want the truth. The raw truth.]

Butler: [Rest assured, I only write what I saw with my own eyes. But… didn’t we agree on one update per day?]

Yan Qingqiu: “!”

A miscalculation. I should have asked for ten updates a day.

Yan Qingqiu: [It had no beginning or end. Write more words next time.]

There was no traffic today, and she arrived in about ten minutes.

Yan Qingqiu folded the paper and tucked it in her pocket. Song Qingre’s studio wasn’t large; she currently rented one floor of an office building. Yan Qingqiu had researched this: Song Qingre had majored in art abroad.

But in the art industry, you usually make more money through social media. If you just stick to pure art without financial backing, it’s hard to establish a position. Song Qingre had been quite famous these past two years, but she lacked marketing. Her return to host an exhibition was likely to expand her network.

Walking in, Yan Qingqiu didn’t see many paintings. The studio looked quite sparse. As she stood at the entrance, an assistant invited her to the waiting room, saying Song Qingre was busy and asked her to wait a moment.

Sitting on the sofa, Yan Qingqiu looked up and saw a painting on the wall.

Plum trees and roses were twisted and entangled together. The thorns of the roses were dug into the bark of the tree, as if piercing its skin. It was a winter scene, which should have been pure and flawless, but it looked distorted and gloomy.

The assistant said, “This is one of Miss Song’s paintings. Not bad, right?”

Yan Qingqiu stood up to take a closer look, but the system in her head began to warn her: [Host, please take note: only one hour left!]

Yan Qingqiu withdrew her gaze. “I want to see her now.”

Inside the office, a secretary was talking to Song Qingre. Song Qingre leaned against her office chair, her brows slightly furrowed, her mood somber.

The secretary said, “The location for the studio is settled, but we’re stuck on the rent. That CEO Fu called last time and said he could help pay the one million.”

Song Qingre’s red lips moved, her voice extremely cold. “He certainly has high hopes.”

“If he really wanted to help, he would tell the other party to lower the rent. He insists on paying for us. If he pays, we would have to pay him back.”

The assistant knocked on the door. “Miss Yan is here.”

Song Qingre nodded slightly, her somber face gradually softening into gentleness.

The secretary asked, “He might call later. Should I put him through?”

Song Qingre flashed a smile. “Put him through.”

“Are you talking about the phone call, or Miss Yan?”

“Both.”

The secretary nodded.

Soon, the office door was pushed open.

A woman in black-and-white puff sleeves walked in. She carried a small pearl bag, and a rose-and-pearl chain hung from her waist. The long black fishtail hem elegantly covered her legs. Her hair was tied in a high ponytail. She entered with an air of untamable, pampered grace.

Her eyes carried a natural cold arrogance; her noble appearance made her look like someone not to be trifled with.

She sat on the sofa and waved her hand. The maid behind her placed a food container on Song Qingre’s desk.

Song Qingre leaned back in her chair and asked, “Is something the matter?”

“Are you really that busy?” Yan Qingqiu countered.

Song Qingre looked at the food container. Seeing the food inside, she said, “Thank you, Qiuqiu. I’ve been so busy with the exhibition that I truly have no free time.”

There was another knock on the door. The secretary pushed it open and whispered, “CEO Fu’s call is coming in…”

“I thought he was going to help us negotiate the price down, but I see he just wants to use this to pressure you, earn a good reputation for himself, and then use the money to restrict your freedom. If we negotiated ourselves, we could lower it by at least ten thousand. If we tighten our belts, it’s not like we can’t scrape the money together…” Sheng Huajian (the secretary) frowned deeply as she spoke. “He also said he wants to see you this afternoon.”

“See me?” Song Qingre’s brows furrowed. She let out a light breath. “Let me think…”

Yan Qingqiu frowned, staring at Song Qingre. Song Qingre let out a soft sigh, her expression looking helpless. She picked up the phone, leaning forward with her hand propped under her chin. Her naturally gentle nature now looked exhausted, making one’s heart ache for her.

Yan Qingqiu politely didn’t interrupt the business talk, but her ears were practically standing up to listen. Hilarious. Let’s hear what this crooked-necked dog-man wants to do.

Fu Ye’s voice was clear: “Do you have time to meet this afternoon? I asked around about that venue you mentioned. If you want to secure it, aren’t you short on funds?”

“Qingre, how about I pay for you first?”

His tone was gentle, but it contained a hidden, urgent pressure.

Song Qingre said, “No rush. I’ll wait a bit longer. The current price is too high…”

“If you wait any longer, someone might snatch it.”

“Really, no rush. I’ll wait. If you pay for me, what will I have left to use as collateral if I run out of funds later? Let’s leave it at that for now. I have a guest here. Talk later.” Song Qingre put down the handset, but as it fell, her finger lifted it slightly—preventing the call from actually hanging up.

“He’s coming to see you with that crooked neck?” Yan Qingqiu snorted. She understood now. Wasn’t this the standard ‘overbearing CEO’ move?

Wait until someone is in trouble, then jump in to interfere. Trip them up behind their back while acting like their savior in front of them. She was certain that if Song Qingre took Fu Ye’s money, she’d be jumping into a pit and would be easily manipulated by him forever.

She really couldn’t understand why so many smart female leads lose their IQ the moment they encounter a male lead.

Yan Qingqiu sat on the sofa opposite her. She adjusted her skirt and asked, “How much are you short?”

“Not much.” Song Qingre seemed to not want to mention it. She glanced at the food container; everything inside was stuff she liked to eat. “The food is still hot. Shall I take you out to eat?”

“Speak!”

“How much money do you need?” Yan Qingqiu asked.

Song Qingre’s fingers hovered. She closed the container again, her fingers pushing the lid back and forth until the remaining warmth turned cold. She said, as if it were hard to say, “One million.”

Yan Qingqiu’s heart skipped. One million. That wasn’t a small amount. In her original world, she had worked herself to death to save maybe ten or twenty thousand.

“You’re not going to sell yourself for a million, are you? Fu Ye is not a decent man.”

“You can’t say that. If it’s a million, once the exhibition opens, selling a few paintings should cover the cost,” Song Qingre said.

“What if they don’t sell?” Yan Qingqiu said, then felt she was being a jinx. She corrected herself: “What if Fu Ye goes back on his word? That guy never keeps his promises.”

Song Qingre arched an eyebrow. “Hmm… it’s not like I haven’t considered what you’re saying.”

The secretary added, “It’s just that we are very short on funds right now. If the venue doesn’t open and we can’t invite any socialites, we’ll lose even more. We already lost money abroad—”

“Huajian,” Song Qingre scolded her.

Yan Qingqiu bit her lip. “I’ll give it to you…”

“You’ll give it?” Song Qingre frowned and shook her head. “No need. Keep it for yourself.”

Yan Qingqiu pulled out her card—her freshly transferred pocket money, all one million of it. She stood up and slapped the card onto the desk. “Take it and spend it.”

She was generous with the slap, but when she turned around so no one could see, she squeezed her eyes shut. Her heart still ached. The card even had a “sweet kiss” lipstick mark on it.

Song Qingre’s eyes showed obvious surprise. Yan Qingqiu was determined to interfere—if for no other reason than to prevent Song Qingre from falling into the scumbag’s hands.

Even though she wasn’t exactly a “good” person herself.

“What do you want in return?” Song Qingre looked at her directly.

Yan Qingqiu thought: My demands are definitely simpler than Fu Ye’s.

“Are you ‘keeping’ me for a million?” Song Qingre asked, her tone questioning.

With Song Qingre’s education, she could probably earn a million a year. One million to “keep” her for a year probably wouldn’t work. What about one million a month?

Yan Qingqiu actually did want to keep her. Song Qingre was so beautiful, and she had the “wicked heart” for it. In reality, she’d never have this chance. She thought about it, observing Song Qingre’s expression.

Song Qingre sat behind her chair, neither cold nor laughing. Her expression was calm, carrying an air of effortless authority, yet there was a hint of pampering provocation in her eyes.

It was impossible to tell what she was thinking.

Yan Qingqiu asked, “If I ‘keep’ you, will you… be resentful, and then… just…” Kill me!

“Hmm?”

“I’ll ‘keep’ you for one day, okay!” Yan Qingqiu raised her voice, her courage suddenly mounting. “My demand is simple. Besides, am I not better than him? You’ll take a smelly man’s money, but you’re afraid of a fragrant woman’s money?”

Song Qingre didn’t agree, but she didn’t show any emotion either.

“Think carefully. Once this chance is gone, it’s gone.” Yan Qingqiu added fuel to the fire. As long as Song Qingre agreed, her task would be cleared.

A million was worth it to buy a life.

“Tell me your demand.”

Yan Qingqiu said, “As long as you can kiss me until I’m breathless, this money is yours.”

“Hmm?” Song Qingre raised an eyebrow slightly. “That’s all?”

Her gaze was suspicious. “You’re spending a million just for a kiss?”

Her suspicion was justified; their relationship in the past hadn’t been that good. Yan Qingqiu knew that spending a million for a kiss clearly didn’t add up.

She had the “wicked heart,” but she was afraid.

Song Qingre asked, “Just a kiss? Don’t others usually play with the ‘flesh and soul’? You’re so strange. What’s the reason for doing this? Is it because someone deliberately told you to do this? Setting a trap for me?”

Her question made Yan Qingqiu panic. Song Qingre propped her chin on her hand, leaning forward slightly to look directly at Yan Qingqiu. “Qiuqiu, it’s not good to lie.”

Yan Qingqiu felt as if her inner self was being seen through. She was shocked. Song Qingre was so smart.

Cough. No other way, then. She could only “play” along a little.

Yan Qingqiu cleared her throat and looked up. “Fine, you saw through me. I indeed… well, I have my eye on you. Then, then I’ll ‘play’ with your ‘flesh’ a bit, too.”

Song Qingre said nothing.

Yan Qingqiu thought: Cleverness is your own undoing. Song Qingre, you’re too foolish. I only wanted a kiss, but you insisted on dragging the rest of yourself into it.

“Think it through for yourself.”

Yan Qingqiu said suggestively, “Like last night…”

Song Qingre raised her hand, seemingly to refuse, but the secretary nearby misunderstood and immediately swiped the card from the desk. Song Qingre’s brow moved slightly as she told the secretary to draw up a contract: Paid in full, kissing included.

Then she looked at Yan Qingqiu and asked, “Shall we start with the kiss?”

Song Qingre’s long legs parted slightly, the tips of her black leather shoes tapping the floor. “Then come over here. Sit on my lap and kiss me. Today… you can do whatever you like with me.”

Yan Qingqiu’s eyes widened, looking at the secretary who was tidying things nearby. The secretary was equally shocked. Song Qingre can be this ‘slutty’ too?

It was happening so fast; she wasn’t prepared.

Yan Qingqiu said, “There are people here! Have you no shame?”

“Ah… I saw you talking so happily just now, I thought you liked it when people were around. Huajian, you go out first. Bring the ‘keep’ contract in later,” Song Qingre said gently. As she pushed the documents over, her arm brushed the handset from earlier.

Huajian finished tidying up. She was too curious; she glanced at Yan Qingqiu, her mouth twitching.

Yan Qingqiu looked at Song Qingre’s legs—slender and very long. She was wearing a white shirt today with black trousers, her ankles visible and straight.

Yan Qingqiu stood up, then sat back down. She’d spent a million; she had to enjoy it. She also parted her long legs slightly, leaning back a bit, her eyes narrowing slightly with that “insufferably arrogant” vibe. She said:

“Come over here. Sit on my lap and kiss me.”

After thinking it over, her gaze landed on the back of Song Qingre’s chair. She added, “Put on your suit jacket. Fix yourself up to look more ‘decent.’ And from now on, you have to call me ‘Sister’.”

Hmm. And better be with tongue.