Chapter 94: There will be no next time

Liu Qiu truly felt that Duan Fan was a little inexplicable as a person.

Running into her room in the middle of the night instead of sleeping, making those obscene sounds, and even calling out Fu Jinyin’s name—

It was like a blatant provocation toward the original host, Fu Jinyin’s lawful wife.

Or perhaps it was that she could no longer suppress her desire for Fu Jinyin and had rushed over to make it known.

Still, Liu Qiu felt somewhat relieved.

From the way Duan Fan acted, it was obvious she was deeply infatuated with Fu Jinyin.

The plot hints had said the two had already been in contact for a while, so Liu Qiu wasn’t surprised that Duan Fan had brought Fu Jinyin home.

What surprised her was that someone as silent and reserved as Fu Jinyin would actually get drunk.

Thinking of that, Liu Qiu pulled up her pajama pants and walked out.

She glanced at the tightly shut door across the hall and hesitated over whether she should knock.

Fu Jinyin most likely wouldn’t open it.

It was almost three in the morning—she might already be asleep.

Just as she was thinking that, the door opened.

Fu Jinyin’s tall, slender figure appeared in her line of sight.

Liu Qiu greeted her dryly, “Good evening, Jinyin.”

[Host, you’re not being cold at all. You should question her about where she went. That’s what the original host would have done.]

Liu Qiu had never been a cold person.

Even maintaining a blank expression required long practice, let alone directly interrogating someone.

She clenched her fingers, pressed her lips together, and let a frosty chill settle between her brows.

“Why did you come home so late tonight?”

“And why did Duan Fan bring you back?”

Her tone was low but not quiet—she was certain Fu Jinyin could hear it.

Fu Jinyin didn’t respond.

She merely glanced at her, her cold pale face tinged with a faint flush, her light-colored eyes calm and rational—half-drunk, half-sober.

“You said you wouldn’t interfere with where I go,” she said, her expression even colder than Liu Qiu’s.

Liu Qiu frowned and fell silent.

The original host had agreed to something like that?

Holding a change of clothes, Fu Jinyin walked past her toward the bathroom.

Liu Qiu turned and watched her tall, thin back.

She really shouldn’t pay too much attention to Fu Jinyin.

Fu Jinyin clearly resisted any contact with her.

Perhaps treating each other like strangers was the best way to coexist.

She only needed to wait patiently.

Fu Jinyin hated the original host.

Duan Fan liked Fu Jinyin.

The two already had contact.

Completing the mission was only a matter of time.

All she had to do was be a silent wife.

Yet Fu Jinyin reminded her of someone she knew in her own world—someone equally quiet, rarely speaking, tall and thin.

Liu Qiu’s lashes trembled.

“Fu Jinyin! Do you want to go back to school?” she suddenly called out.

Fu Jinyin seemed not to hear and walked straight into the kitchen.

Liu Qiu’s lips parted, then she swallowed the rest of her words.

This house had no private bathroom in Fu Jinyin’s room; aside from the original host’s bedroom, the only bathroom was the shared one in the kitchen.

Liu Qiu exhaled slowly.

She had acted impulsively.

The original host had forced Fu Jinyin to drop out and trapped her at home for two years—she obviously had no intention of letting her return to school.

But then Liu Qiu reconsidered.

She was the protagonist now.

In the first world she had already learned that as long as she didn’t act too far out of character, the world’s consciousness wouldn’t do anything to her.

After all, as the female lead, she was favored.

[Host, why would you let her go back to school? You don’t even have money to support her studies.]

The system’s words jolted her awake.

Right—there was no money.

The company was on the brink of bankruptcy, and everything that could be poured into it had already been spent.

Forget it.

She would wait in the living room.

Drunk people could easily get into accidents while bathing.

If Fu Jinyin didn’t come out after half an hour, she would knock.

Liu Qiu sat on the sofa and opened the original host’s laptop, reviewing financial reports.

Inside the bathroom, Fu Jinyin undressed and stepped into a bathtub filled with cold water.

She curled up, letting herself sink completely beneath the surface.

An inexplicable heat burned inside her body.

She didn’t understand why Liu Qiu hadn’t gone to sleep.

She had never stayed up this late before.

It was irritating.

She wanted to tear Liu Qiu apart.

Why wouldn’t she sleep?

Why did she have to be seen at night?

Fu Jinyin’s eyes gradually turned pitch-black.

Purple veins surfaced across her skin, spreading like tangled vines.

The skin on her legs darkened to a deep violet-black as her human legs began to distort and elongate.

One tentacle.

Two.

Until six thick tentacles filled the bathtub entirely, forcing all the water out.

Her breathing grew heavy.

Half her cheek was covered in purple veins that looked like tattoos, lending her a strange, eerie beauty.

‘Subject 112 has brain damage. Hearing impairment present. Unable to reach complete form. Dispose of this failed product.’

Fu Jinyin gripped the edge of the tub as her tentacles writhed, lifting her upper body.

Staring at the grotesque appendages below her, she murmured, “I am not a failure.”

Transparent, sticky secretion began to coat the tentacles, making the entire tub slick.

She stared at them blankly.

Perhaps she really was a failure.

She couldn’t even resist alcohol.

A knock sounded at the door.

But she couldn’t hear it.

Outside, Liu Qiu knocked repeatedly with no response.

The kitchen was completely silent, which was why she had come to knock, yet there was still no movement.

Maybe she had fallen asleep.

Or worse—fallen asleep in the bathtub.

The thought made Liu Qiu’s back turn cold.

That could kill someone.

“Fu Jinyin!”

She called three times with no reply.

She tried the handle, but it was locked from the inside.

[System, is the person inside still alive?]

[Host, don’t panic. Her vital signs are very healthy.]

The system could not spy on human privacy, only scan bodily metrics.

Liu Qiu let out a small breath of relief.

Alive was enough.

[Host, hurry and go to sleep. It’s almost four. You have to be at the company by ten.]

[No. I’ll wait for her.]

She stood by the bathroom door.

Five or six minutes later, she knocked again.

This time there was movement inside, and the door opened.

Fu Jinyin’s hair was dripping wet, droplets falling steadily.

Even soaked, she didn’t brush her bangs aside, letting them cling to her face.

Her pale eyes shifted to Liu Qiu, deep disgust surfacing within them.

“What do you want?”

Her hoarse voice was low, laced with anger.

“I was worried you fell asleep,” Liu Qiu explained.

Fu Jinyin opened the door wider.

“Come in.”

Liu Qiu hesitated, then followed.

The bathroom was divided into dry and wet areas.

Fu Jinyin’s T-shirt was soaked, clearly pulled on without properly drying herself.

“Jinyin, you need to dry off after bathing.”

Fu Jinyin suddenly grabbed Liu Qiu’s collar and dragged her to the edge of the tub.

“Why were you standing at my door?” she asked slowly, each word clear and sharp.

“Were you trying to watch me bathe?”

Liu Qiu’s face cooled.

“I told you, I was worried about you.”

Fu Jinyin released her.

“You were strange today.”

“Strange is you,” Liu Qiu replied evenly.

“You’re drunk.”

Without answering, Fu Jinyin picked up the showerhead and turned it on over her head, water cascading down.

“I’m drunk. I’m drunk.”

Liu Qiu was stunned.

So she really was drunk.

She reached up to grab the showerhead but underestimated Fu Jinyin’s height and had to stand on tiptoe.

“Give it to me.”

Water splashed onto her face and chest, soaking her thin pajama top.

Fu Jinyin’s gaze dropped to the fabric clinging to Liu Qiu’s chest, outlining everything clearly.

Her eyes reddened.

“Disgusting.”

“So disgusting.”

“I won’t sleep with you.”

Liu Qiu focused on the showerhead but answered gently, “We won’t. We won’t sleep together.”

Fu Jinyin repeated it twice—she clearly rejected the idea deeply.

“Jinyin, give me the showerhead first.”

With a loud clang, it fell into the tub.

Fu Jinyin swayed and collapsed.

Liu Qiu caught her just in time.

Though she looked tall and slender, Fu Jinyin was heavy in her arms, completely enveloping her.

“Fu Jinyin!”

No response.

She carried her out to the sofa.

After changing her into dry clothes, Liu Qiu froze upon seeing the scars covering her waist and abdomen.

They were deep, ugly, countless.

Even her chest bore surgical stitch marks.

Her legs were the same.

How could one body have so many scars?

Had she grown up abused?

Her heart ached.

She dressed her carefully, dried her hair, and carried her back to her room.

By then it was nearly six.

Dawn was breaking.

Fu Jinyin’s face was burning hot, her breathing heavy.

Liu Qiu pulled up a chair and sat beside the bed.

In the original host’s memory, Fu Jinyin was an orphan with no family.

But that might not be the whole truth.

Otherwise, how could those scars be explained?

Liu Qiu sighed deeply.

What could she even do?

The only thing she could do was treat Fu Jinyin better.

But Fu Jinyin didn’t want that.

Overwhelmed, Liu Qiu rested her head by the bedside and fell asleep unknowingly.

A loud thud woke her.

Fu Jinyin had fallen to the floor.

Liu Qiu rushed forward, but her numb legs gave out and she fell on top of her instead.

It must have hurt.

“Don’t touch me,” Fu Jinyin said coldly, shoving her away.

“Sorry, I—”

“Get out.”

“I can’t feel my limbs,” Liu Qiu muttered.

Fu Jinyin didn’t respond.

She left the room.

Liu Qiu lay there until sensation returned.

Her head spun.

Her cheeks burned.

[System, I think I have a fever.]

[Yes, your temperature is elevated. You should rest.]

[No. I have to go to the company today.]

She changed into a suit and left quietly.

She could never truly be angry at Fu Jinyin.

On the bus, she bought breakfast and fever medicine.

Back home, Fu Jinyin submerged herself again, tentacles filling the tub with slick mucus.

She remembered letting Liu Qiu into the bathroom.

That hadn’t been rational.

Her last memory was the soaked fabric clinging to Liu Qiu’s chest.

Full.

Firm.

The rest was blank.

When she woke, Liu Qiu had been sleeping by her bed.

For a moment, killing intent surged.

But she felt no discomfort.

Liu Qiu hadn’t touched her.

Disgusting.

No matter what tactics she used, she would never succeed.

Memories echoed in her mind—

‘Fu Jinyin, you’re beautiful. Marry me.’

‘If you refuse, forget about going to school.’

‘We’re married. We should sleep together.’

‘It’s your duty to satisfy me.’

Fu Jinyin shot upright in the water, retching violently.

Her eyes burned with murderous cold.

At two in the afternoon, Liu Qiu sat at the head of the conference table, head spinning from fever.

“The new product is ready, but no one is willing to invest.”

“Lifang Group intends to acquire us and let current shareholders retain three percent.”

“We’ve been losing money all quarter. We can’t even pay salaries next month.”

“Liu Qiu, you’ve been investigating for half a year. Any clues? If we don’t solve this, we’re done.”

Before she could answer, a teasing voice sounded.

“Oh? Having a meeting and not informing your new shareholder?”

Liu Qiu’s expression turned colder.

“What are you doing here?”

Duan Fan leaned at the door, smiling.

“I’m part of the company now.”

In her hand was a share transfer agreement.

The room erupted in shock.

Duan Fan wore garish colors—green shirt, purple tie, red trousers—like a flamboyant butterfly.

“May I join the meeting, President Liu?” she asked playfully.

“Meeting adjourned for ten minutes,” Liu Qiu said, striding toward her.

“Come with me.”

In a vacant room next door, she released Duan Fan’s wrinkled tie.

“President Liu, so rough. Are you this rough with your wife too?”

“I don’t have time to play with you,” Liu Qiu said.

“No one will help your company,” Duan Fan replied lazily.

“You can’t sell your stock, yet you’re launching new products. Where will funding come from?”

“I offered thirty million just to buy your wife. No one’s more generous than me.”

Liu Qiu felt dizzy from fever.

She stepped closer, bracing her hands on the armrests of Duan Fan’s chair, leaning down.

“You think everyone is as heartless as you?”

Her dark eyes shone like polished obsidian.

“I don’t like others coveting what belongs to me.”

Heat radiated between them.

A strand of Liu Qiu’s hair fell against Duan Fan’s collarbone.

Duan Fan’s smile stiffened.

“Duan Fan,” Liu Qiu said firmly, “there won’t be a next time.”

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