The Qin residence was a three-story Western-style villa with both front and back gardens, recently renovated in a style typical of the era—understated yet subtly luxurious.

The birthday banquet had long ended, and the lively atmosphere of the day had faded. Song Shixi pressed the doorbell, and soon a housekeeper came to answer. Recognizing her, the woman paused briefly before quickly opening the door, offering a polite, perfunctory question: “Comrade Song, when did you go out?”

“Just a while ago. Went out for a walk.”

Song Shixi knew that with so many guests today, no one would have paid attention to her comings and goings. So she brushed off the question vaguely.

Sure enough, the housekeeper didn’t suspect a thing, quietly following her inside before returning to the kitchen to clean up.

The living room was empty. Song Shixi glanced around indifferently, then headed to the dining room to eat. After finishing her meal, she leisurely had some fruit before making her way upstairs.

As she reached the second floor, a clear, bell-like laugh rang out. Instinctively, she paused and glanced toward the sound.

Through a slightly ajar door, she saw a young man and woman sitting on the carpet, unwrapping an assortment of gifts. Though they maintained a proper distance, their closeness was unmistakable.

The woman wore a soft lilac dress, her long, wavy hair cascading down her back. With an oval face, large eyes, and delicate features, she exuded an ethereal, gentle beauty—one that, upon closer inspection, bore a faint resemblance to Qin Yue.

This was the novel’s female lead, Qin Zhiyi. And beside her? None other than the white moonlight of her youth—the second male lead, Li Yanxing—also the scumbag husband of the original host in the book.

Admittedly, Li Yanxing had the looks to make women swoon. Tall and lean, with thick, ink-black hair falling over his forehead, partially obscuring his sharp phoenix eyes, which seemed to hold a world of tenderness when they fixed on someone—making it feel like you were the only person in his universe.

Like now.

As if sensing her gaze, he glanced toward Song Shixi. Their eyes met mid-air.

His brows furrowed slightly before his lips curved into a smirk. He mouthed something at her.

Song Shixi’s heart skipped a beat. She averted her gaze calmly, inwardly cursing, then continued upstairs without a word.

Hypocritical bastard.

With acting skills like that, he should’ve been an actor instead of conning innocent girls. Disgusting. If not for the original host’s sudden interference in the plot—using a desperate scheme to trap him—he might’ve kept up the act forever.

But now, with the storyline derailed and the pivotal moment of the original host “forcing” him into a relationship gone, would Qin Zhiyi ever see through his facade?

For a moment, Song Shixi worried. But then she shook her head. What could she do? Expose herself to Qin Zhiyi?

She wasn’t that crazy.

Sighing, she consoled herself: Qin Zhiyi is the female lead. Even without this drama, she’d find a way to overcome it. Besides, with Qin Yue around, how could she ever suffer?

This cannon fodder side character should worry about herself first.

Thinking of Qin Yue, Song Shixi couldn’t help but compare the two strikingly handsome men. Objectively speaking, despite Qin Yue’s domineering personality, she still preferred his looks.

Honestly, he was perfectly her type. That face of his in bed? Absolutely lethal.

Too bad she valued her life more than lust. Otherwise, she might’ve…

Realizing the direction of her thoughts, Song Shixi’s expression instantly cooled. Blank-faced, she stepped into her room.

The space was spacious—a full-wall wardrobe on the left, a king-sized bed in the center, followed by a vanity, bookshelves, and a study desk. Fully furnished, nothing lacking.

Song Shixi casually pulled open the wardrobe door—only to nearly faint at the sight.

Inside, clothes were neatly folded in rows. There were plenty, most of them bought by Qin’s mother after the original host arrived in Beijing.

And most of them were… questionable.

China had only recently opened up, and after years of suppression, people were eager to indulge in self-expression. Compared to the dull blacks, blues, and grays of the past, bright and bold colors were now in vogue—the more vibrant, the more fashionable.

But the original host’s looks leaned toward sultry charm, and her youth made it easy for flashy outfits to tip into tackiness if not styled carefully.

In terms of design, unlike the daring trends of Hong Kong, mainland fashion remained conservative—long sleeves, trousers, and maxi skirts dominated, while short skirts and half-sleeves were rare.

Song Shixi frowned as she rummaged through the wardrobe for pajamas, consoling herself: Sure, these clothes don’t suit me, but at least they’re expensive.

Still, she was short on cash. If only this closet full of clothes could be liquidated…

A spark flashed in her eyes as an idea struck. Mulling it over, she sat at the desk to sort through the original host’s belongings. By the time she finished, it was past midnight. Hurriedly grabbing her pajamas, she headed to the bathroom.

By the time she stepped out, her plan had taken shape, and a smirk tugged at her lips—

Until all her good mood evaporated at the sight of the figure in the hallway.