Chapter 27: Do not love

Liu Qiu’s injury wasn’t too serious.
After the doctor treated it and prescribed some medicine, she was fine.

Carrying a plastic bag with the medicine inside, Liu Qiu went to pay, only to be told that Song Ciyu had already covered the bill.

Blinking, Liu Qiu walked toward the entrance and saw Song Ciyu standing beside the car.
She stepped over and said softly, “Um… thank you.”

“I’ll transfer the money to you later.”

Song Ciyu turned around and looked down at Liu Qiu, who was more than a head shorter than her.
Her voice was calm. “No need. Just buy me a bottle of water sometime.”

Liu Qiu pressed her lips together, looking uneasy. “B-But that—”

“Liu Qiu, it’s only a few dozen yuan. I hope you don’t draw such a clear line between us.”

“Just occasionally… treat me as a friend, okay?”

Liu Qiu lowered her head and said nothing more.

Song Ciyu’s gaze shifted to the plastic bag in Liu Qiu’s hand.
Her fingers twitched slightly before she turned and opened the car door. “Get in. I’ll take you home.”

This time, the atmosphere inside the car was oppressively silent.

Song Ciyu stared ahead, her face devoid of expression, eyes dark, thin lips pressed together.

Liu Qiu felt nervous.
Ever since they left the pharmacy, Song Ciyu’s mood had felt off—she could see it in her expression.

It was a little like anger.
But she didn’t think she had done anything wrong.

The night deepened.
Liu Qiu took out her phone and called Bai Qingqing.

Just like the previous calls, no one answered.
The messages she had sent also went unanswered.

Suddenly, Song Ciyu’s voice sounded beside her. “Liu Qiu, we’re here.”

Liu Qiu lifted her head with a small “Ah,” glancing at the familiar street outside the window.
She thanked her softly and opened the door to get out, when Song Ciyu said, “Liu Qiu, sometimes you should be a little bad.”

Liu Qiu didn’t understand.
Confusion flickered in her eyes.

Song Ciyu turned her head to look at her, gaze settling on her pale pink lips.
She suddenly smiled. “Has anyone ever told you that your lips look very kissable?”

The heavy silence shattered completely with that teasing remark.

There was no ulterior meaning in Song Ciyu’s eyes, as though she were simply joking.

Liu Qiu didn’t feel uncomfortable.
Her eyelashes trembled slightly, a faint embarrassment coloring her face. “N-No.”

Song Ciyu hummed, the corner of her lips curving faintly. “It’s late. Go on inside.”
She returned to that distant yet considerate demeanor from before.

Liu Qiu nodded, got out of the car, waved goodbye, and walked into the residential complex.

Song Ciyu’s car did not leave.

She sat inside, watching Liu Qiu’s slender figure grow farther and farther away until it disappeared into the night.

Her expression faded entirely, turning cold and gloomy.
Everything was deviating from her plans.

Liu Qiu’s reactions.
And her own emotions.

Things had gone out of control.

Song Ciyu raised an arm to cover her eyes.
For the first time, she didn’t know what to do.

She was well aware that she hadn’t truly invested much.
If she pulled back in time and distanced herself from Liu Qiu, everything would return to its starting point, and she would lose nothing.

A businessperson always put profit first.

Song Ciyu lowered her arm and gripped the steering wheel, her fingers tapping lightly.

In her mind surfaced Liu Qiu’s tear-reddened eyes, her bleeding palm, and that shy smile.

Her fingers tightened abruptly.

With her privileged background and her own excellence, she had always been able to obtain whatever she wanted.

She also knew how to cut her losses in time, avoiding anything detrimental to herself.

But she couldn’t bring herself to give up on Liu Qiu just like that.

The faint trace of Liu Qiu’s pheromones still lingered in the car, though mixed with the scent of another omega, making it unpleasant.

A strong obsession surged in Song Ciyu’s eyes.
It was almost pathological—though she herself would never realize it.

---

When Liu Qiu returned home and turned on the lights, the pitch-black living room brightened instantly.
She set down her bag and walked to Bai Qingqing’s door, knocking gently. “Wife.”

No one answered.

The door wasn’t fully closed, leaving a narrow crack.

Pressing her lips together, Liu Qiu carefully grasped the doorknob and pushed it open.

Her gaze swept the room, and her brows knitted slightly.

Bai Qingqing hadn’t come home.

Her calls didn’t go through.
Her messages weren’t replied to.
Liu Qiu had no idea where Bai Qingqing could have gone.

[System, did I really go too far?]

The system comforted her. [No. She was wrong to hit someone without listening first.]

[Host, don’t worry. She might come back tomorrow morning.]

The system realized its consolation wasn’t working—its host still looked dispirited.

Though it didn’t fully understand the complexity of human emotions, its programming allowed it to analyze her mood.

Right now, the host was filled with guilt.

The system put down its game and changed the topic. [By the way, that slap you gave earlier should’ve caused a personality deviation. But since you’re fine, it seems the world consciousness is more tolerant than we thought.]

Liu Qiu patted her cheeks. [Stop thinking about it. Bai Qingqing will definitely come back. I’ll apologize properly.]

But two days passed, and Bai Qingqing still hadn’t returned.

Liu Qiu hadn’t slept well at all, exhaustion written across her face.

The weather today was terrible.
Heavy rain poured down in thick drops, oppressive and overwhelming.

Liu Qiu’s heart began to panic.

What if something had happened?

Bai Qingqing was very beautiful, and the people in this world were generally tall and imposing.
She had gotten into a taxi that day—and there had been no news since.

With that thought, Liu Qiu suddenly stood up from the sofa, grabbed an umbrella, opened the door, and ran out.

The rain veiled the entire world.
Everything she saw was blurred.

The rain was heavy, the wind fierce.
Even with an umbrella, the wind-blown rain soaked her clothes.

Few pedestrians and vehicles were on the road.
The sky was a dim gray, steeped in loneliness.

Liu Qiu gripped the umbrella handle tightly, her slender fingers pale and almost sickly.

Her thin frame was battered by the wind, clothes whipping against her body, looking frighteningly fragile in the rain.

She searched for a long time.

As the sky grew darker, she pressed her lips tightly together.

Maybe Bai Qingqing had checked into a hotel.
Maybe she had gone to someone else’s place.

But Liu Qiu couldn’t stay home peacefully.

If something truly had happened to Bai Qingqing, she would be the culprit.

“Bai Qingqing!” she shouted, but the rain swallowed her voice before it could travel far.

[Host, go home first. The rain is too heavy.] The system felt helpless. It had never seen this stubborn side of her.

It had only been two days.
Bai Qingqing was an adult—she would surely find somewhere to stay.

[System, I can’t. I made her angry. I hit her and scolded her.]

[Bai Qingqing must feel wronged.]

The system couldn’t bear it. Its mechanical voice fluctuated. [The one who should feel wronged is you!]

[She didn’t answer your calls or messages. What is she, some primitive human without communication tools?]

Liu Qiu trembled slightly and called Bai Qingqing again.

This time, the automated voice informed her the number was out of service.

Her eyes reddened. [System… Bai Qingqing isn’t in a place with signal.]

Her face was flushed red, but her lips were pale.

The system had already scanned her body temperature.
She had a fever.

[Host, let’s go to the hospital first. Then we can call the police to help look for her. Bai Qingqing will be fine.]

If this continued, the host would collapse first.

Liu Qiu stared at her phone, tears blurring her vision.

Where had Bai Qingqing gone?

She remembered the words Bai Qingqing had said in anger.
‘If I don’t let you kiss me, you’ll go find someone else?’

Bai Qingqing had always been sensitive about her contact with others.

Maybe it was just because she was her partner.

No one wanted their partner being intimate with others—even if they didn’t love them.

“I should’ve paid more attention…” Liu Qiu’s murmur dissolved into the rain.

A call suddenly came in.

She answered. Her voice was hoarse. “L-Liu Xia.”

Liu Xia’s confused voice came through. “Liu Qiu, what’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing… Liu Xia, did you need something?”

“I was wondering when we could set a time. I want to have dinner with you and your wife.”

“I’ll be back next month.”

“Okay…” Liu Qiu’s mind was hazy. “Maybe in a few days.”

[System… my head feels so dizzy. My body feels awful.]

[Host, you have a fever! Hurry and call a taxi to the hospital!]

Liu Qiu took a few steps forward.

Her legs suddenly gave out, and she collapsed heavily onto the ground.

Her phone and umbrella fell beside her.

A dull thud came through the phone.

Liu Xia frowned. “Liu Qiu? What happened?”

Rain poured over Liu Qiu without the umbrella’s protection.

“So… dizzy…”

The world went silent around her.

She weakly lifted the phone. “Liu Xia… I’ll hang up… I’m… a little tired.”

Fatigue and cold spread through her body.

Her eyes slowly closed.

The scab on her palm split open again, blood seeping out.

Bai… Qingqing—

“Boom!”

Thunder roared.

Bai Qingqing raised her serpent body, crimson vertical pupils staring at the storm-dark sky.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Don’t tell me you’re thinking about that human?”

“Why were you so angry? Don’t tell me you’ve fallen in love with her?”

“What’s the difference between a rabbit falling in love with grass? Heh.”

The teasing voice echoed endlessly in her ears.

“Kneel down!” Bai Qingqing’s eyes filled with murderous intent, dark energy swirling faintly within.

“Give me your body. I’ll go kill her for you. That human is shaking your mind.”

“You’re already bored enough staying in this spirit-depleted world. And now you’re being emotional over a human? How pathetic.”

The voice shifted left and right, constantly assaulting her sanity.

Lightning flickered across the sky—this was the first time she had seen lightning infused with spiritual energy since arriving in this world.

If she absorbed it all, she could break through and eliminate this damned heart demon.

She laughed coldly. “What nonsense are you spouting? How could I ever love a human?”

The heart demon giggled. “Isn’t my existence proof enough?”

Bai Qingqing shut her eyes and began circulating her cultivation method.

A faint green glow surfaced over her serpent body as clouds gathered thickly above her.

Lightning struck down again and again.

Her skin, organs, bones—all felt as though they were being scorched.

The heart demon’s voice vanished.

Her snow-white scales turned charred black.

Only her crimson pupils glowed coldly.

She was a demon.

How could she possibly fall in love with a human?

She had only ever used humans.

Once she passed this lightning tribulation, she would return to her own world.

Until then, Liu Qiu still had some value.

She shouldn’t have been angry.

Why had she gotten angry because of a human?

Once she finished absorbing the spiritual energy in the lightning, she would return to Liu Qiu and put on that gentle mask again.

Liu Qiu’s palm had been injured.
She would buy medicine for her.

She would tell her she wouldn’t hold those matters against her—as long as it didn’t happen again.

If Liu Qiu wanted a kiss… she could try.

---

By the time Liu Xia arrived at the hospital, an hour had passed.

The call had never disconnected.

Liu Qiu had collapsed on the roadside.
A passerby had explained everything to her.

After asking the passerby to help send Liu Qiu to the hospital, Liu Xia hurried over.

Thanking the person who had helped, Liu Xia went to the hospital bed.

She sighed softly at the sight of Liu Qiu lying there, small and pale.

“How did you end up like this?”

Just days ago, she had seemed fine.

Liu Xia pressed the back of her hand against Liu Qiu’s forehead.

Burning hot.

Her hair was still damp—who knew how long she had lain in the rain?

Liu Xia pulled up a chair and sat beside her.

Picking up Liu Qiu’s phone, she noticed it had no password.

After hesitating, she unlocked it.

Perhaps she should inform Liu Qiu’s wife.

The contact list was pitifully sparse.

Only a few names.

The pinned contact at the top was labeled simply: Wife.

Liu Xia raised a brow.

How straightforward.

She called.

After a long ring, an automated voice responded: “The number you have dialed is out of service…”

Looks like she’d be the one staying tonight.

Time passed slowly.

One IV bottle after another was changed.

Outside, rain lashed against the windows as black clouds pressed low.

The wind howled, blurring the line between day and night.

With only her and the unconscious Liu Qiu in the room, it felt like the end of the world.

Liu Xia rubbed her dry eyes and stood up, dampening a tissue to wipe Liu Qiu’s face.

When she reached her chin, she noticed her eyelashes fluttering.

She was waking up.

“Liu Qiu, awake?”

Liu Qiu opened her eyes.

Her mind was foggy.
Her vision blurred.

She looked toward the voice.

Seeing a hazy yet familiar face, she slowly smiled. “Wife… you’re back.”

Liu Xia froze. “What?”

Liu Qiu struggled to sit up.

“Don’t move! You’re still on an IV!” Liu Xia hurriedly supported her, noticing how frighteningly thin her arm was.

After settling her back, Liu Xia realized—

Liu Qiu wasn’t fully conscious.

Her pupils were unfocused.

“Liu Qiu, who am I?” she asked, leaning closer.

“Wife,” Liu Qiu answered firmly.

“Wrong guess.”

She was about to call her wife again when her wrist was suddenly grabbed.

Liu Qiu’s pale fingers rested lightly against it.

Their eyes met.

Before Liu Xia could react, Liu Qiu lifted her hand and pressed her cheek against it obediently.

“Wife… I made you unhappy. Hit me, okay?”

The soft, burning warmth against her palm sent a shock straight to Liu Xia’s heart.

“I love you the most,” Liu Qiu murmured, eyes misty and overflowing with affection. “I didn’t kiss anyone else. I only want to kiss you.”

Liu Xia jerked her hand back.

The warmth lingered on her skin, spreading to her chest.

Was this how Liu Qiu and her wife interacted?

“Don’t you forgive me?” Liu Qiu’s brows furrowed.

“I’m not your wife,” Liu Xia said softly.

Before she could say more, Liu Qiu suddenly leaned forward.

Soft.

Wet.

Rain-scented breath.

Liu Xia’s eyes widened in shock.

All thought ceased.

Liu Qiu straightened, dimples faintly visible, cheeks flushed red.

“Wife… forgive me. I love you the most.”

“Bang—!”

A loud noise came from the doorway.

[Green Hat Value +10]

Liu Xia stiffly turned her head.

A woman stood at the door—bearing a five-part resemblance to herself.

The woman smiled.

Enchanting.

She stepped closer, eyes glinting red.

Placing a finger to her lips, she signaled Liu Xia not to speak.

Then she looked at Liu Qiu.

“Qiuqiu,” she said softly.

“Do you love someone named Bai Qingqing?”

Liu Qiu’s mind was blank.

Her dry lips parted slowly.

“I… don’t love Bai Qingqing.”