That night, Ji Yunxi sat by her window, moonlight spilling across her desk like silver threads. The campus outside was hushed, but her mind was anything but calm.
The System's warning echoed:
"Affection level: dangerous. Category—obsession."
Her chest tightened. Mo Liancheng's unwavering gaze, his words—"She is everything"—were still fresh in her memory. Too much, too soon. She didn't dare let herself fall into the illusion of permanence.
He doesn't belong to me. None of this does.
The knock on her door shattered her thoughts. It wasn't gentle—it was sharp, deliberate.
"Who?" she called, voice steady.
The door creaked open and a maid entered, bowing respectfully. "Miss Ji, you are invited to the Qin family's banquet tomorrow evening. Attendance is mandatory."
Her lips curled faintly. "Mandatory?"
"Yes," the maid whispered, eyes flickering with unease. "The mistress herself insisted."
The moment the maid left, Ji Yunxi leaned back in her chair. She didn't need the System to tell her what this was. A banquet wasn't an invitation—it was a battlefield.
And Qin Yuxi was sharpening her knives.
Meanwhile, in the Qin family mansion, laughter and the clinking of glasses echoed in a lavish hall. Qin Yuxi reclined on a velvet sofa, swirling her wine lazily, her expression one of false serenity.
"Everything is ready," her confidante reported, kneeling beside her. "Tomorrow night, Ji Yunxi will step into a pit she won't crawl out of."
Qin Yuxi's smile was cruel. "Good. Let her taste what it means to steal my place, to bask in Brother Liancheng's gaze. By the end of the night, she'll be ruined before everyone."
She tilted her head, eyes gleaming with malice. "And if she doesn't fall? Then we'll make her."
The hall filled with cold laughter.
Across the city, Mo Liancheng stood on his balcony, wind tugging at his dark hair. His phone buzzed with an invitation from the Qin family. He didn't bother reading it. He already knew what they planned.
His hand clenched on the railing. His gaze was distant, dangerous.
"Yunxi," he murmured, voice low and possessive. "Do you think I'll let them touch you?"
The moonlight cast his shadow long and sharp. For the first time, a faint, chilling smile curved his lips.
"Let them try."