Chapter 6: I, Ling Qiong, Send Money! (6)
She had rushed out of the engagement banquet so quickly that her phone was still with someone else.
Lu Wenci nodded, his fingers searching his pants pocket, but after a long while, he still hadn’t produced his phone.
Ling Qiong noticed his repeated attempts and scratched her head, seeking his opinion: “Shall I help you?”
Lu Wenci’s gaze was unfocused; he nodded absentmindedly.
Ling Qiong reached out to find the phone, her fingertips brushing against the thin fabric. Lu Wenci felt as if he could sense the chill of her touch.
The delicate fragrance unique to young women drifted toward him, softly striking at his heart.
Through his blurred vision, he could clearly see the girl’s exposed slender neck, her skin fine as sheep-fat jade, glimmering with a lustrous glow.
His breathing grew hurried, and he swallowed hard.
Fortunately, Ling Qiong soon found the phone and headed toward the restroom.
Lu Wenci gripped the cushion beneath him, his fingers turning pale with the effort.
…
“Are you sure it’s here?”
Ling Qiong pointed at the building before them, uncertain, and asked Lu Wenci, who was still somewhat conscious.
Lu Wenci nodded.
Ling Qiong forced a small smile, exhaled slowly, and looked up at the obviously old building.
She helped Lu Wenci upstairs. The concrete stairs were thick with dust, plastic trash bags strewn about, and the walls were bare of paint.
Children’s scribbles and various advertisements crowded the cement walls.
With some effort, Ling Qiong got him upstairs, unlocked the door, and helped him to the sofa.
She shook out her arms, massaging them as she complained, “You’re really heavy—exhausting. Do you actually live in a place like this?”
Lu Wenci was in no state to answer, his face flushed as he lay on the sofa.
[Dear, if you change the target character’s residence, you can draw a card~]
Ling Qiong: “…”
She suspected this so-called AI customer service existed solely to trick her into spending money.
So…
Daddy would never fall for it!
Scram!
[…]
Ling Qiong surveyed the apartment: one bedroom and one living area, sparsely furnished, everything a little worn.
From the living room, she could see into the bedroom, where a bed and a fabric wardrobe took up most of the small space.
After her inspection, she turned around—only to see Lu Wenci unbuttoning his shirt, revealing a large expanse of pale skin.
Ling Qiong’s eyes widened with excitement.
How thrilling!
“Hot…”
The young man, half-undressed, lay on the narrow sofa, his long legs stretched out awkwardly, murmuring incoherently.
The scene was anything but suitable for children.
…
Lu Wenci woke from the heat, pressing a hand to his aching head and forcing his eyes open. The light was fuzzy at first.
Halos of light spread out above him, and gradually he recognized the ceiling.
It was his own familiar environment…
The clock by the bed read 7:20 a.m.
Morning?
How long had he slept?
Lu Wenci sat up with a start, but the sudden movement made his head spin again.
He lifted the thick blanket to check—and immediately turned pale.
He wasn’t wearing anything!
The events from before…
Lu Wenci quickly checked himself; there were no marks. Apart from some weakness, he felt no discomfort. He gradually calmed down.
“Bang—”
A sound came from outside.
Lu Wenci’s heart skipped a beat. Someone was here!
Who had brought him back?
With his mind racing, he hurriedly dressed and opened the bedroom door.
The moment he did, a delicious smell wafted to his nose, and hunger struck him.
In the living room, a girl in a white gauzy dress sat on the sofa, her chin in her hands, watching the electric hotpot bubbling on the coffee table.
The fragrance came from within, the broth gurgling with bubbles.
Hearing the door open, the girl turned, her eyes lighting up instantly.
“You’re awake,” she said softly, her voice sweet and soothing.
Lu Wenci’s hazy memories surged back—the girl before him overlapped with the one from the hotel, dressed to the nines.
It was her…
So it hadn’t been a dream.
Her dress was still the same, but the hem had been torn off and tossed aside on the sofa.
Now, the gauzy dress reached just to her calves—neither short nor long.
Her hair, once pinned up, now fell in soft waves behind her, and the silver princess crown rested on the table.
Even so, she looked every bit the princess—delicate and flawless.
In such a rundown room, the scene felt almost surreal.
Lu Wenci’s voice was low and hesitant: “Was it…was it you who took me from the hotel?”
“Mm-hmm.” The girl nodded.
Lu Wenci clutched his shirt hem. “Then my clothes…”
“You weren’t feeling well. I had to put you in cold water,” she replied obediently. “I did see everything, but don’t worry, I didn’t touch you!”
Lu Wenci’s ears turned beet red, his cheeks flushing.
“But you have a really nice body.”
The girl cupped her face, as if reminiscing, her eyes filled with genuine appreciation—without a hint of lewdness, as if it was simply honest praise.
“Stop it,” Lu Wenci protested, embarrassed and shaken. “And don’t even think about it!”
…
It took Lu Wenci a while to come to terms with reality.
Of course, compared to what could have happened…
While the situation was a shock, it wasn’t entirely unbearable.
The girl seemed utterly at ease. “Are you hungry? Come eat something first.”
Lu Wenci touched his stomach, feeling hungrier than ever.
He hesitated, then slowly sat down, his face still burning. “Instant noodles for breakfast?”
“It’s all I could find at your place. What else could I do?” she shrugged innocently.
Lu Wenci was speechless.
His cheeks grew even hotter.
She had cooked instant noodles with egg, sausage, and a little green vegetable.
The girl divided it into two bowls, handing one to him.
She cradled her bowl, sighing softly. “Once upon a time, I dined on delicacies from land and sea. Now, look at me—reduced to eating instant noodles. Such is fate!”
With a deep sigh, she began to eat.
Lu Wenci: “…”
When you’re hungry enough, even instant noodles taste heavenly.
Very soon, they finished the whole pot.
With his hunger sated, Lu Wenci sized up the girl who had rescued him. “I…still don’t know your name.”
“Ling…”
[Dear, in-game, please use your character’s name.] The system flashed, cutting off Ling Qiong.
Ling Qiong pouted. What was her character’s name again?
“Su…”
Lin Su?
Lu Wenci pieced together a name on his own.
“…Miaomiao.” Ling Qiong patted her forehead. “Right, Su Miaomiao.”
Lu Wenci: “…”
Did she really need to think about her own name?
He suppressed his doubts. “My name is Lu Wenci.”
The young man sat upright across from her, hands neatly on his knees, the picture of propriety.
Ling Qiong had no such image, half-lounging on the sofa arm, drained but relaxed.
Because of her looks, though, it didn’t seem improper—rather, there was a touch of lazy nonchalance.
Lu Wenci looked away. “In the hotel, were you the one who hit Mr. Wang?”
The girl puffed her cheeks, asking innocently, “Who’s Mr. Wang?”
“The man in the hotel room,” Lu Wenci replied, his distaste tangible even as he avoided the subject.