Foolishly Flirting with the White Moonlight Leads to Being Marked - Chapter 7

What if she was just scaring herself? Yan Qingqiu balled up the handbook, preparing to throw it away. But after a second thought, what if she actually needed it?

As she stood there agonizing over her choices, the driver walked over and said softly, “Miss, Brother Chen just called. He asked if you’re heading back for dinner. If you are, you can catch a ride with Miss Song.”

Oh, right! She still had to sleep in the same bed with Song Qingre tonight!

It was way too hot to be standing outside. The blazing summer sun felt like it was tearing the sky wide open. Knowing she’d lose a layer of skin if she stood out there for another minute, she practically dove back into the car.

The driver asked, “Miss, are you feeling alright?”

Physically fine, but mentally on the verge of a breakdown.

Yan Qingqiu shoved the booklet deep into her bag. “Let’s go home.”

Once inside the car, she pulled out her phone to search for information on a Beta turning into an Omega. No wonder the doctor hadn’t prescribed her anything; here is what the internet had to say:

[If an Alpha changes into an Omega, there’s still hope—you just need to take some meds to suppress it. But if a Beta changes into an Omega, there is absolutely nothing you can do. In medicine, it’s called ‘secondary development.’ To put it simply, you’re just a late bloomer. Word on the street is that these kinds of Omegas are incredibly rare, potentially even SSS-rank!]

[If I remember correctly, the last SSS-rank Omega was a legendary diva from the last century. But it was later proven that the SSS title was just a marketing gimmick, and she was actually only an S-rank.]

[An SSS-rank combined with secondary development? That is a brutal stack of buffs. How are they supposed to survive their heat cycles later on?]

That doctor lied to me! He said it was common!

Yan Qingqiu suddenly remembered one of the questions she had answered in the questionnaire: She was supposed to differentiate into a super rare SSS-rank Omega right in front of the White Moonlight.

Differentiating right in front of Song Qingre?

Just as she was about to demand answers from the system, her attention was completely hijacked by a trending topic on social media.

Trending Topic: #Fu Ye Gets His Dog-Head Kicked Crooked by His Ex

Clicking into the tag, a video of Fu Ye with a severely tilted neck immediately popped up. It was spectacular. Yan Qingqiu couldn’t help but snort, bursting out into a fit of laughter in the backseat.

Fu Ye’s face was practically purple with rage in the video. Helpless and not knowing what to do, he just clenched his fists and slammed them onto a table—a textbook definition of impotent fury.

The comment section was even more hilarious:

“I always thought that as long as a guy is handsome, I can tolerate anything he does—good or bad, loyal or scummy. But seeing Fu Ye with a crooked neck? I am officially turned off.”

“Can’t look at it. If we’re talking about the most off-putting image of the year, it’s definitely Fu Ye’s crooked neck.”

“Ahhh, someone pass me some eye bleach!”

Yan Qingqiu was thoroughly enjoying the drama when her phone began to ring frantically. She was bombarded with messages from tons of people, all asking if the trending topic was true.

Afraid of inviting trouble, she didn’t reply to any of them. However, she took special notice of a contact pinned at the very top of “her” chat list. This person was most likely her best friend.

By the time the car pulled up to the estate, she was still staring at her phone. The butler came over to open the door for her, lowering his head slightly as he said, “The Master called today.”

“Hmm?” Yan Qingqiu tore her eyes away from the screen to look at him. “Who?”

“The Master—your father. He called about half an hour ago.” The butler bowed slightly. Yan Qingqiu lifted her skirt and took his hand to step out of the car.

For some inexplicable reason, a wave of panic washed over her. Was it because she had grown up in an orphanage without parental love, and suddenly having a father terrified her? Or was she afraid of blowing her cover? It was too complicated to untangle.

“What did he say?”

“It’s about the situation online. It seems Fu Ye called the Master to complain that you beat him up.”

“He actually tattled like a child?!” Yan Qingqiu furrowed her brows in anger. She had been out in the sun for too long, and tiny beads of sweat were forming on the tip of her nose.

The butler chimed in, “Indeed. It was quite unexpected. He completely lacks gentlemanly grace. What’s wrong with hitting him a couple of times? He’s the one who was playing fast and loose between you and Miss Song.”

These words hit the right note with Yan Qingqiu. She glanced at him and asked, “Did you say that to my dad?” It felt incredibly bizarre that the word “dad” slipped out of her mouth so naturally, and an image of a man’s face even flashed in her mind.

“I did. I pointed that out quite sharply. However, the fallout from this incident seems to be massive, and it’s tied up with business matters. The Master will probably call you directly,” the butler said.

The Yan family ran a cosmetics business. The industry was fiercely competitive, and since their brand was an old-school name, they were struggling to compete against the newly rising influencer brands. Fu Ye’s family business, on the other hand, was an absolute giant in this world, with operations covering almost everything. He had invested heavily in Father Yan’s projects, so a sudden divestment would deal a heavy blow to the Yan family.

Yan Qingqiu gave a noncommittal hum. Sitting down on the living room sofa, she noticed a few roses arranged in a vase on the coffee table nearby. Finding the butler’s handling of things quite to her liking, she thought for a moment and asked, “What do you think my dad will say?”

“I cannot be sure. But your actions today—beating someone up and then force-kissing Miss Song—were indeed a tiny bit excessive. By any standard of logic, it seems your behavior was in the wrong.”

Yan Qingqiu huffed twice. “When is the Master coming back?”

“Probably in about a week.”

Father Yan was currently abroad negotiating a project and wouldn’t be back anytime soon. “We’ll deal with it then. One day at a time…”

“However, he did instruct me to freeze your cards,” the butler added.

Yan Qingqiu bolted upright, only to slump right back down a second later. She examined her smooth, polished fingernails. “I’ve already spent all of it.”

“Huh?” The butler looked utterly shocked. “That quickly?”

“I told you one million doesn’t go very far. I just bought some jewelry and clothes, and it was gone in a flash.”

“And where are those items?”

“I left them in Song Qingre’s office. Ugh, stop asking, it’s so annoying!” Yan Qingqiu stood up from the sofa and bolted upstairs, clutching her phone. She immediately fired off a message to Song Qingre, telling her to transfer that one million out of the account right away.

She strongly suspected that Fu Ye had found out about her arrangement to “keep” Song Qingre, deliberately snitched to her father, and had her cards frozen just to ruin the arrangement and sabotage Song Qingre’s work. What a despicable man.

Yan Qingqiu paused on the stairs and shouted down to the butler, “Go get a guest room ready for Song Qingre to stay in tonight. If the two of us sleep in the same bed… it’ll be too crowded.”

Clutching her bag tightly, she knew the “too crowded” excuse was a complete lie. The real reason was that she was about to turn into an Omega. If the two of them couldn’t control themselves and things went that way, it would be a disaster.

Once inside her room, Yan Qingqiu pulled out the two items from her bag. The “sugar baby” contract didn’t matter anymore; what mattered was the handbook.

She flipped through the pages over and over. The more she read, the more miserable she felt.

She typed another query into her search bar: [Will an Omega die if they cut out their glands?]

The Answer: Yes.

Yan Qingqiu’s eyes instantly welled with tears. Sob, sob.

8:00 PM. The courtyard lights were dutifully lit, with tiny glowing insects buzzing around them.

Yan Qingqiu was lying in bed after finishing her dinner when she heard the sound of a car outside. She scrambled up to look out the window. They had agreed to have dinner together tonight, but Song Qingre had stood her up, claiming she had to work.

It looked like someone had driven Song Qingre home. She stared intently at the vehicle, and the moment she saw the assistant she had met earlier get out to open the door for Song Qingre, she instantly pulled back inside.

Song Qingre walked upstairs quickly. Just as her hand hovered over the door to knock, the butler came up and said, “The guest room has been prepared, Miss Song. Please stay in the room next door for tonight.”

Song Qingre tilted her head to look at him.

In a very soft, quiet tone, she murmured, “Qiuqiu… doesn’t want me anymore?”

“Miss Son—” The butler’s voice cut off abruptly.

“Alright. It really is quite inconvenient today anyway. I also drank a bit of alcohol; she probably wouldn’t like that.” Song Qingre blinked, her eyes looking a little damp. She agreed easily and asked, “Which room is it?”

The butler pointed down the hall, and Song Qingre turned to push open the door to the guest room.

Yan Qingqiu pressed her ear flat against her door, catching the sound of somewhat staggering footsteps. She opened her door a tiny crack, catching the faint scent of alcohol.

Even though it was suppressed by her citrus pheromones, the smell was still unpleasant enough to make her knit her brows.

Yan Qingqiu extended her foot, preparing to go over and check on her. But as she hesitated and started to pull back, she caught sight of the butler. He hadn’t left yet and was still standing in the hallway. Sensing her gaze, he offered her a respectful nod.

No wonder the butler knew about them kissing back when they were sixteen or seventeen. He was practically a ghost.

Yan Qingqiu shrank back into her room. Lying face down on the bed, she opened her chat history with Song Qingre. The original “her” used to text Song Qingre quite often, but the messages were almost exclusively demands for Song Qingre to stay away from Fu Ye and stop seducing him—she had been just a hair’s breadth away from pointing at Song Qingre’s nose and screaming insults.

“Her”: [You better stay far away from Fu Ye. We are engaged now. If you don’t want to be a homewrecker, you better stop meeting him. If you insist on being a third wheel, don’t blame me for getting nasty.]

“Her”: [I’ve seen plenty of green tea btches like you. Stringing men along might be your talent, but don’t blame me when I turn on you and beat you so hard your own parents won’t recognize you.]*

Song Qingre hadn’t replied with so much as a single punctuation mark.

Scrolling further up, the messages were filled with even more of the same—telling Song Qingre to have some self-respect and stay away from Fu Ye, painting the poor female lead in a thoroughly wretched light.

Yan Qingqiu propped her chin in her hands and pulled out the paper written by the butler. Reading it now brought a faint wave of melancholy. She slipped back out of her room. The butler was still patrolling the living room downstairs with a lamp in hand. She clapped her hands, and he carried the lamp back upstairs.

Yan Qingqiu said, “Go wake up the head chef. Have him prepare some rock sugar pear water and send it to Miss Song’s room. Um… if there’s any other hangover soup that tastes good, make some of that and send it over too.”

The butler agreed. Yan Qingqiu quickly added, “Don’t tell her I ordered it. Just say it’s leftovers from the kitchen. Got it?”

“There doesn’t seem to be much point in telling a lie like that,” the butler remarked. “Aside from you, there is no one else in this house who would treat Miss Song well.”

“Just—just go!”

Yan Qingqiu darted back into her room and slammed the door shut.

She kept her ears strained for any sound from next door. She heard the butler deliver the soup, but she didn’t hear Song Qingre speak. As she lay there listening, she drifted off to sleep before she knew it.

She slept terribly. Her body felt like it was on fire—a scorching heat that burned from her neck all the way down to her ankles, leaving her completely drenched in a clammy sweat.

“Mmh…”

Twisting and turning against the sheets, she kicked the blanket off.

In her feverish state, Yan Qingqiu fell into a dream. In the dream, she seemed to walk into a strange room. She caught the sound of barely suppressed, shallow pants—sounding far more choked and strained than her own groans.

Her feet seemed to float forward. The dreamscape was hazy and indistinct, but the voice drifted continuously into her ears:

“Qiuqiu, don’t come near me. Be a good girl.”

“Silly girl, how could I die? I’m just in my susceptibility period.”

“Alright, don’t be scared. Even if it’s my susceptibility period, you can’t sneak-kiss my mouth.”

“Why are you crying?”

The woman on the bed… or more accurately, a young girl of about seventeen or eighteen, was wearing a very thin, cool nightgown. Her skin was flushed a pale pink from the burning fever.

Yan Qingqiu stood there completely at a loss, but the other girl was far more mature than her. A smile always lingered in her exhausted, dry eyes, and her words were always telling her not to be sad.

Yan Qingqiu rolled from the right side of the bed straight onto the floor. The impact with the hardwood floor woke her up. The hem of her nightshirt had ridden up, exposing her fair legs and pink lace underwear. The cool touch of the floor brought her back to her senses for a brief moment. She cracked her curved eyes open slightly, only to close them again.

Yan Qingqiu touched her eyelashes with her fingers; they were wet with tears.

She still felt incredibly sad.

That dream just now… it felt so real, as if it had actually happened.

Yan Qingqiu lay on the floor for a long time. The heat was becoming absolutely unbearable, so she went into the bathroom to take a cold shower, soaking herself in the cool water for twenty minutes. But the moment she stepped out, she instantly regretted it. Her body, freshly shocked by the cold water, felt even hotter than before. The entire room felt like it was ablaze.

There was nothing she could do. The doctor hadn’t prescribed her any medication, stating that because of her Beta constitution, standard suppressants would be useless. If she truly was changing into an Omega, using suppressants prematurely would cause severe long-term damage to her body.

Yan Qingqiu pulled back the curtains and stepped out onto the balcony to let the night breeze cool her down. Her gaze was instantly drawn to the view below—someone was standing beneath the plum tree in the courtyard.

She was wearing a black slip dress, leaning against the dead branches of the plum tree. Right beside it, the rose bushes were blooming in full fury, their green leaves and crimson petals completely blanketing the entire wall. The brown vines snaking across the ground crept forward, coming just a hair’s breadth away from touching the withered roots of the plum tree.

In the dead of night, if they dared to grow just a bit more wild and unbridled, they would look exactly like the twisted entanglement in Song Qingre’s painting.

Yan Qingqiu had specifically asked the butler about it during dinner. He had mentioned that the plum tree in the yard hadn’t bloomed in years. Previously, “she” had constantly demanded to have the tree chopped down, but the butler had been too tied up with other matters to get around to it.

You can always tell when someone is heartbroken. Song Qingre stood there completely motionless, looking the absolute picture of sorrow. In the middle of it, as if sensing that someone was watching her, she turned her head. Yan Qingqiu instantly dropped to a squat to hide.

Her heart went into a frantic, chaotic frenzy.

By the time she dared to stand back up, there was no longer anyone below. The plum tree and the rose bush remained exactly as they were. If the rose bush just tried a little harder, it would surely be able to reach those withered roots.

A heavy, suffocating ache settled into her chest.

Over all these years… did “I” treat her terribly?