Chapter 9: The Boss And Her White Little Lotus
Yu Liuxue let out a soft squeak of delight, trying to rein in her excitement but failing. "Finally… finally!" she whispered, giggling under her breath, cheeks flushed and eyes wide with an innocent, almost mischievous eroticism. Every movement, every flutter of her skirt, every playful tilt of her head radiated heat and intimacy, teasing Lin Qingyin with impossible precision.
Lin Qingyin's eyes followed her, tracing the sway of her body, the delicate curve of her neck, the soft angles of her shoulders beneath the fabric, the gleam in her eyes. Inside, a fire stirred, slow, deliberate, impossible to ignore. This little lotus… she undoes me every time. Every gaze, every movement, every breath.
Yu Liuxue, oblivious to the subtle storm she provoked, kept bouncing with excitement, brushing past Yao Yishu, yet her eyes flicked back to Lin Qingyin constantly, playful, daring, intimate. Lin Qingyin's chest tightened at the sight, a mixture of amusement, exasperation, and a deep, simmering desire she couldn't fully name.
And there, in that small, crowded space, tension and intimacy coiled like a living thing. Yu Liuxue's energy, the soft flutter of her skirts, the warmth in her eyes, the teasing little smiles — all of it pressed against Lin Qingyin's composure, whispering a promise of things unspoken, a heat neither could fully resist.
Even as Yao Yishu extended the bouquet, Lin Qingyin didn't so much as touch it. Her eyes never met his, her hand didn't move toward the flowers — her focus was entirely on Yu Liuxue, the white little lotus, whose presence made every serious moment crack with warmth, playfulness, tension, and desire all at once.
Lin Qingyin didn't even look at him.
She stepped past Yao Yishu as if he were nothing more than a misplaced prop on set, his stunned expression hanging awkwardly in the air behind her. Her long coat swayed with the movement, dark fabric brushing against her calves as she crossed the room with calm, decisive strides.
She walked straight toward Yu Liuxue.
Yu Liuxue's eyes were red. Not the delicate, theatrical red she could summon in seconds for a camera close - up — but real, glistening red, swollen slightly at the corners.
Tears slid silently down her cheeks, catching the light. She wasn't sobbing loudly. She wasn't dramatic. She was just… staring at Yao Yishu's back.
Her voice trembled with grievance. "Brother Yishu."
The words were soft, but they carried weight. The kind of weight that made the room feel smaller.
Yao Yishu's jaw clenched.
His entanglement with Qingwu had already stirred enough rumors. Enough gossip. Enough scrutiny. And now, with Lin Qingyin standing right there, he could hardly lose control.
His fingers clenched around the bouquet of roses, the stems bending slightly under pressure.
He looked back. "Voiceless —"
He didn't finish.
"Let's go." Lin Qingyin's voice cut through his call like a blade. Calm. Even. Absolute.
Yao Yishu blinked. "Voiceless?"
His tone rose unconsciously, disbelief clear in the single word.
Lin Qingyin's gaze flicked to Yu Liuxue's face.
Yu Liuxue lowered her lashes at just the right angle, fingers curling lightly into the fabric at her waist. The picture of fragility. The perfect white lotus.
System… she whispered inwardly, voice trembling in deliberate dramatics. Are you sure the heroine doesn't prefer women?
There was a brief pause in her mind.
Why are you asking? the system replied evenly.
Because look at her, Yu Liuxue continued, shoulders quivering just enough to sell the act. She didn't even look at Yao Yishu. She hates him. I can feel it. I really feel like I won't have a hard time in this world finishing my task.
The system gave a thoughtful hum. Remember, host, I already checked. There's nothing wrong with the heroine.
Yu Liuxue blinked internally. Nothing wrong?
Nothing abnormal in her settings, the system clarified calmly. If anything… perhaps it's simply your charm.
Yu Liuxue nearly choked on her own suppressed laughter. My charm?
Your performance has been consistent, the system replied. Your influence is measurable. It is possible the variable is you.
She almost preened, but forced her lashes to flutter weakly instead. So you're saying she might just like me?
I am saying, the system answered in its usual restrained tone, that your presence appears effective. Continue.
See? Yu Liuxue said smugly in her mind. I told you. I'm not even struggling. Maybe she really does prefer women. Or maybe she just prefers me.
Shameless, the system commented, though there was unmistakable approval beneath it. But efficient.
Outside of her internal theatrics, Yu Liuxue was crying without restraint now, breath uneven, shoulders trembling slightly. Yet she was trying to hold herself together, forcing her lips upward in a brave, bright smile whenever Yao Yishu looked her way.
The contrast — her obvious pain and her stubborn attempt to appear strong — struck Lin Qingyin directly in the chest.
An unnamed fire rose inside her.
Is he really that good?
Even after being bruised by him again and again?
Even when the entire industry knew he had distanced himself from her?
Even when rumors spread like wildfire across every platform?
And still — she wouldn't let go?
Lin Qingyin's expression cooled, affection and indifference layering together in a way that made her unreadable.
"I still have a photo shoot tonight," she said evenly. "Master Yao, you should head back."
Her tone wasn't loud. It didn't need to be.
She stepped closer to Yu Liuxue.
Then, without hesitation, she wrapped an arm around Yu Liuxue's slim shoulders and pulled her gently — but firmly — into her side.
The scent of Yu Liuxue's shampoo rose faintly between them, something soft and floral. Her body was warm. Delicate. Trembling.
Lin Qingyin felt it immediately.
The cold in her voice melted when it reached Yu Liuxue's ear, turning unexpectedly gentle, like spring water flowing over stone.
Yu Liuxue leaned into her instinctively.
Her little hands hovered uncertainly for a moment, tangling in the fabric of Lin Qingyin's coat, sliding up and down as if searching for permission. Her breathing was still uneven, cheeks flushed, lashes wet.
She smells so good… Yu Liuxue's mind drifted absurdly for half a second. Why is she always this calm?
Her heart swayed.
Finally, she gave in.
Her arms wrapped around Lin Qingyin's slender waist, tightening slowly at first, then more confidently. She pressed her face against Lin Qingyin's shoulder.
Her long lashes brushed against the delicate skin at Lin Qingyin's collarbone. The contact was light, almost accidental — but it sent a faint shiver through Lin Qingyin's spine.
Yu Liuxue glanced at Yao Yishu one last time, her gaze wounded, fragile, almost heartbreaking.
Then she turned her face fully inward and hugged Lin Qingyin tighter.
What's so good about a stinky man? she thought irritably. Still girly and delicious.
The thought made her cling just a little harder.
From his position, Yao Yishu stood alone, bouquet of roses bright and unnecessary in his hands. The red petals looked almost ridiculous now — vivid against the quiet intimacy unfolding in front of him.
Something in his chest ached.
This wasn't how it usually went.
Qingwu was supposed to soften when she saw him. She was supposed to hesitate. To waver.
Instead, she was wrapped around Lin Qingyin like ivy around a pillar.