Su Qianqian pushed back the covers and sat up, momentarily dazed before her delicate face flushed crimson again.
She tightened her abdomen slightly, then stepped barefoot onto the soft carpet, her fair feet sinking into the plush fibers.
Moving toward the full-length mirror, she gazed at her reflection.
The girl in the mirror had seaweed-like hair cascading messily over her bare shoulders, accentuating her jade-like skin.
Yet her body was littered with vivid, ambiguous marks—like crimson plum blossoms scattered across snow—both startling and alluring.
Her slender, fragile neck led to delicate collarbones, then downward to soft, snow-white curves.
Utterly ravaged.
Even her straight, porcelain legs bore traces of his fervent kisses.
The crown prince of the wealthiest conglomerate had acted like an inexperienced boy last night, exploring every inch of her with insatiable curiosity, utterly enthralled.
None of the arrogance he’d shown during their last encounter remained.
She turned slightly, revealing the elegant dimples of her lower back—now marred by faint bruises from his grip.
Su Qianqian’s cheeks burned pink, her tiny earlobes flushing scarlet.
Fragmented memories from the night flooded her mind unbidden:
His scorching breath, husky praises, the taut muscles of his abdomen, and those dark eyes that seemed intent on devouring her whole.
Just recalling it made her legs wobble, her lower abdomen tingling with phantom soreness.
She steadied herself against the cool mirror frame, her body still weak-kneed.
In the reflection, her eyes shimmered with a newly awakened allure—innocent yet unconsciously seductive.
The system hadn’t lied.
The gifts from the chosen one of fortune truly nourished her body, mending the dissonance between her soul and this vessel.
Her once-frail form now radiated a dewy, blooming vitality, as if thoroughly quenched.
Beyond the physical glow, she sensed an energy akin to the spiritual forces in xianxia novels, subtly healing her.
Last night, she’d nearly fainted from exhaustion.
Yet today, she could stand unaided.
That alone spoke volumes.
Timidly, Su Qianqian stretched before the mirror, her movements equal parts naive and coquettish.
To an observer, she’d resemble less a celestial maiden and more a beguiling flower spirit.
Her damp eyes flickered with complex emotions before settling into docile reliance.
She needed him.
His presence, his strength, his sustenance—like a dodder vine instinctively twining around the mighty oak that ensured its survival.
...
Dressed now, she no longer wore her old, drab T-shirt and pants but a brand-new dress.
The blush-pink spaghetti-strap gown, crafted from flowing chiffon, draped softly over her delicate frame, tracing the lines of her slender shoulders and gentle curves.
The hem stopped just above her knees, revealing calves as smooth and pale as polished jade.
Gu Chengyu had left the outfit for her before departing, neatly placed atop the bedside table.
It was the first time in weeks since arriving in this world that she’d worn something so refined.
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, the screen flashing "Lin Shu."
Su Qianqian’s heart lurched.
Oh no—she’d overslept. It was already afternoon.
She grabbed the phone, took a deep breath, and answered.
"Su Qianqian! Where the hell are you?"
"Do you have any idea what time it is? No calls, no texts—do I even exist to you? Or are you done with this job?"
Lin Shu’s shrill voice crackled through the speaker, sharp with fury.
Su Qianqian flinched at the barrage, guilt twisting inside her.
But she had messed up. No excuse.
"Sorry, Sister Shu! I’m so, so sorry!" she pleaded, her voice honeyed and contrite.
"I—I felt really sick this morning. Dizzy, feverish... I just woke up. I didn’t mean to..."
She tiptoed to the sofa, set the phone on the coffee table, and tapped the speakerphone button.
Then, covering her ears with her hands—leaving just enough gap to hear—she braced for the storm.
"Sick? More like lazy! A few days in, and you’re already slacking? Do you know how much you’ve screwed up today?"
"A country bumpkin like you should be grateful I hired you out of pity!"
"Know your place! Who do you think you are?"
Lin Shu’s tirade raged on, each word harsher than the last.
Su Qianqian kept her ears half-covered, lashes fluttering as she murmured tiny apologies into the phone:
"Mhm... Sorry, Sister Shu..."
"I won’t do it again..."
"Mm... mm..."
She looked equal parts obedient and pitiful, like a scolded kitten too afraid to flee—just huddling in place with muffled whimpers.
Too focused on placating Lin Shu, she didn’t notice the suite door quietly open and shut.
Gu Chengyu had returned.
His tailored suit jacket hung loosely over his arm, leaving only the black dress shirt beneath, its top buttons undone to reveal a slash of pale collarbone.
Fresh from disciplining the board of directors, his expression still carried a trace of irritation.
But now, his gaze locked onto the girl in the living room.
