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Join the ServerAbout half an hour later,
Lin Shishi slumped softly against the small table.
Faint red marks adorned her wrists and ankles.
She now understood completely—
What “Golden Rooster Standing on One Leg” truly meant.
“Student Lin Shishi, do you understand the meaning of that phrase now?” Song Qinghuan’s voice drifted down from above, laced with amusement.
“Teacher Qinghuan, I understand… I truly do.”
Lin Shishi replied weakly.
“Excellent.” Song Qinghuan nodded, a satisfied expression on her face.
****
Throughout the entire weekend, Lin Shishi truly experienced what it meant to ‘attend a lesson’.
It was far more profound than anything she had learned in school.
The silly little girl felt that she truly ought to formally acknowledge Song Qinghuan as her teacher.
Of course…
Song Qinghuan was already her master.
There was no need for a formal apprenticeship; she could acquire a vast amount of knowledge directly.
And it was all practical, substantial content…
Filled with essential insights.
Even when she didn’t want to learn, she was compelled to absorb a multitude of facts.
Eventually, Lin Shishi developed a slight case of PTSD from the constant learning.
The moment she heard “learn idioms,” her pale, slender thighs would tremble uncontrollably, much like Old Wu Er.
****
Sunday afternoon.
Sunlight sliced through the blinds, casting long, thin strips of light across the wooden floor.
Lin Shishi lay sprawled across Song Qinghuan’s oversized bed, her cheeks sinking into the soft down pillow.
She was utterly exhausted.
Her small head, at last, could hold no more knowledge.
“Little sleepyhead—still asleep?”
Song Qinghuan’s voice, imbued with a hint of laughter, came from behind her.
She was kneeling beside Lin Shishi, her slender fingers slowly tracing down the girl’s spine.
“Master… I want to rest a little longer…” Lin Shishi’s voice was as faint as a mosquito’s buzz.
Her posture suggested a desire for rebellion, yet a fear of execution.
Lin Shishi swore that if rebellion came without consequence, she would revolt a hundred times a day.
She would overthrow Song Qinghuan, this damnable tyrannical master and wicked textbook tyrant.
And then she would stomp on her a thousand times.
****
“Not being obedient, are we? You wouldn’t want… your secret to be known by others, would you?” Song Qinghuan’s wicked smile returned.
“Master… as long as I don’t have to study, I’ll do anything… Can I help you with chores?” Lin Shishi sprang up in fright, then pleaded with a perfectly docile expression.
“Chores? Fine. You refuse to take it easy, insisting on doing strenuous tasks. You truly are a diligent worker!”
Song Qinghuan rolled her eyes.
She couldn’t help but toss the marker in her hand onto the floor.
Originally, Song Qinghuan had intended to write a few more English words on the small whiteboard.
However, considering how much she had already written, she refrained.
After all, constantly writing odd, unconventional words would seem peculiar.
“Since that’s the case, your punishment is to do the laundry. And the bedsheets, here—all these things are yours to wash.”
Song Qinghuan tossed a pile of dirty bedsheets to the girl.
Lin Shishi jumped in surprise.
“So many?”
“What, are you complaining about the quantity this time?” Song Qinghuan asked with a mischievous grin.
“Hmm… not really… it’s just, washing so much at once, won’t it seem a bit strange?” The girl’s face flushed crimson.
“It’s nothing, go on, silly girl. Just toss them into the washing machine!” Song Qinghuan chuckled.
As the beautiful little girl with twin pigtails gathered a large stack of bedsheets and clothes to leave, Song Qinghuan stopped her, whispering, “Don’t let Mom see—it might seem a bit odd.”
Lin Shishi’s face instantly turned scarlet.
She nodded.
Fortunately, Lu Wenli and Song Siyu were both in their bedrooms at the moment and hadn’t come out.
Lin Shishi shuffled in her slippers to the laundry room on the first floor.
She opened the washing machine and stuffed the bedsheets and clothes inside.
Only seven or eight pieces of underwear remained, set aside for handwashing.
Just then—
A soft cough suddenly broke the silence.
Without her noticing, Lu Wenli had already approached.
Lin Shishi gasped in fright, instinctively raising her hands as if caught in a clandestine act.
‘Ngh—’
The girl was almost scared to tears.
“Pfft—Shishi, what are you doing here?” Lu Wenli nearly choked on her laughter.
“N-nothing… just doing laundry…”
Lin Shishi’s face turned red.
“Oh, how diligent you are… But what’s the big deal, little Shishi? It’s just doing laundry—”
Lu Wenli couldn’t have been more touched.
This future daughter-in-law was truly virtuous.
However, her attention quickly shifted to Lin Shishi’s basin.
‘Huh?’
“Why are there so many?”
She was clearly stunned.
Lin Shishi’s face immediately turned red.
She stammered, “N-no… it’s not what you think.”
Lu Wenli covered her mouth.
She wanted to laugh but held it back.
“It’s fine, it’s fine… it’s not that many. When I was young, I often washed dozens of items at once…”
Lu Wenli forcefully concocted a past memory for herself.
Then, Lu Wenli’s gaze fell upon the washing machine.
It was also crammed full of… bedsheets.
‘Well, I’ll be.’
Lu Wenli laughed again.
As she laughed, she stepped back, saying with a smile, “You’ve worked hard, Shishi.”
Immediately after, Lu Wenli turned and quickly walked back to the living room.
The result was—
A few minutes later, Lu Wenli and Song Siyu ascended the stairs “aggressively” together, knocking on Song Qinghuan’s door.
Because Song Qinghuan had forced Lin Shishi to wash a large quantity of clothes, nearly exhausting their sweet and adorable future daughter-in-law, the two parents subjected Song Qinghuan to a ten-minute, “earnest and heartfelt” lecture.
Throughout, Song Qinghuan leaned against the doorframe, still in her silk nightgown, barefoot, her long hair slightly disheveled. With an expression of “humble acceptance,” she nodded repeatedly, “dutifully” receiving the “criticism” from the two parents.
Afterward, under the “supervision” of Lu Wenli and Song Siyu, Song Qinghuan walked to the entrance of the laundry room downstairs.
Facing Lin Shishi inside, who was vigorously scrubbing small fabric items, her face as red as an apple, Song Qinghuan offered a solemn, clear “apology”:
“Shishi, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have made you wash so much at once. You’ve worked hard.”
In response, Lin Shishi dared not lift her head.
Lin Shishi could only accept Song Qinghuan’s apology with a flushed face and a voice barely audible.
However, the girl’s heart was frantically praying for this awkward charade to end quickly.
****
Night fell.
“My good girl, I won’t bother you tonight.”
Song Qinghuan’s voice indeed became exceptionally gentle. “We’ll rest well.”
Lin Shishi’s face was slightly flushed, yet she felt an indescribable warmth.
She nodded obediently.
Song Qinghuan turned off the main light, leaving only a warm yellow bedside lamp glowing softly.
In the dim light, Song Qinghuan slipped under the covers and embraced Lin Shishi from behind.
“Sleep.”
Song Qinghuan whispered, her lips lightly brushing Lin Shishi’s earlobe.
Lin Shishi closed her eyes, a swirl of complex emotions rising within her heart.
She thought of the novel she had written—how freely she had penned it then, and how much she was now “suffering the consequences.”
But…
She secretly leaned back further, allowing herself to sink deeper into Song Qinghuan’s embrace.
Song Qinghuan’s scent—a blend of fresh shower gel and a unique body fragrance—enveloped her.
Yet, if given another chance, she would still write this character as beautiful, as alluring, as she had.
She would still name her “Song Qinghuan” and bestow upon her the identity of a dominator.
For Song Qinghuan was simply too perfect:
A delicate face, a tall figure, waist-length hair, eyes always holding a faint smile, and those captivating… trembling hands.
As Lin Shishi pondered these thoughts, she gradually drifted into sleep.
The dream came abruptly and vividly.
She stood in a vast, empty hall, the polished marble floor gleaming beneath her feet.
At the far end of the hall sat a magnificent chair, upon which a woman was seated.
The woman appeared to be around thirty, her beauty astonishing.
She possessed long, dark chestnut hair, styled into an elegant chignon, adorned with a delicate golden crown.
She wore a deep crimson gown, its skirt fanned out around the chair like a blooming flower.
The woman beckoned Lin Shishi forward, her movements graceful and composed.
Lin Shishi noticed her hands—long and pale, with nails painted dark red, every detail exuding nobility.
“Come, my daughter.”
The woman’s voice was soft and melodic.
Lin Shishi involuntarily stepped forward.
She looked down to see her bare feet, her toes curling nervously.
The marble floor was cold, but her soles were sweating.
“I… I’m not…”
Lin Shishi’s voice trembled. “I’m just a writer of trashy romance… with a dirty heart… an ugly duckling…”
The woman rose from the chair, her long gown sweeping the floor.
She walked over to Lin Shishi, standing half a head taller than her.
She reached out, cupping Lin Shishi’s face, her fingertips warm and soft.
“No, you are my long-lost daughter.”
The woman’s gaze was firm. “The current princess, and the future queen of the Kingdom of Lanfang.”
“Princess? Queen?”
Lin Shishi felt as if she might faint.
“But I’m shy, introverted, and I faint at the sight of strangers…”
The words were out before she could stop them, and her face instantly flushed scarlet.
The woman, however, laughed, her laughter as clear as a silver bell.
She embraced Lin Shishi, her hug warm and firm, carrying a faint scent of roses.
“You will grow into it, my little princess.”
The woman whispered in her ear.
Lin Shishi tried to say more, but the dream began to blur.
The last thing she saw was the woman’s gentle gaze and the crown faintly glowing in the darkness.
“Ngh…”
Lin Shishi uttered a soft whimper, waking from her dream.
The bedroom was still dim, with only a sliver of morning light peeking through the curtain gap.
“Had a nightmare?”
Song Qinghuan’s voice was husky with sleep.
Her hand, still resting on Lin Shishi’s waist, gently patted her.
Lin Shishi turned to face Song Qinghuan.
In the hazy light, Song Qinghuan’s face was unrealistically beautiful—her skin fair and smooth, her eyelashes long and curled, her lips slightly parted, a naturally moist pink.
“What did you dream about?”
Song Qinghuan asked again, her fingers gently combing Lin Shishi’s slightly disheveled hair.
“N-nothing… nothing at all.”
Lin Shishi instinctively lied.
She didn’t know how to explain that absurd dream—
The Kingdom of Lanfang?
Princess?
Queen?
It was too far removed from her real life.
Song Qinghuan didn’t press further, merely leaned in and placed a soft kiss on Lin Shishi’s lips.
The kiss was brief, yet utterly gentle.
“Go back to sleep.”
Song Qinghuan said, simultaneously reaching out to caress Lin Shishi’s wrist.
Faint red marks still lingered there.
Lin Shishi felt a surge of inexplicable warmth.
She snuggled deeper into Song Qinghuan’s embrace.
Their legs re-entwined, Song Qinghuan’s instep pressed against Lin Shishi’s calf, the skin smooth and cool, a pleasant sensation.
They remained intertwined, drifting back into sleep.
You’ve got to see this next! The Moon Reflected In The Water will keep you on the edge of your seat. Start reading today!
Read : The Moon Reflected In The Water
