◎ Sounds of suppressed panting echoed ◎

The sun sank below the horizon as night gradually fell, leaving behind a dazzling sunset painted across the sky.  

Song Shixi lay on the ground, a sharp pain throbbing at the back of her head. Forcing her eyes open, she was met with the picturesque beauty outside the window—a sight so mesmerizing that she couldn’t help but stare. Yet, no matter how breathtaking the view was, it paled in comparison to the alluring male figure not far away.  

Under the dim golden light, a tall man leaned half-against the wall, his breathing heavy and restrained.  

His strikingly handsome face was flushed with an unnatural heat, his thick lashes casting shadows over his narrow, slightly hooded eyes, which now held a dazed, almost intoxicated allure.  

His tall, well-built frame exuded an air of aristocratic restraint—broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and firm hips, all accentuated by his crisp white shirt and black dress pants. Yet, the unrefined look in his eyes, combined with the unmistakable bulge in his trousers, added a wild, untamed edge to his otherwise composed demeanor.  

Song Shixi’s ears burned as she watched him. She felt both startlingly awake and strangely dazed.  

Hadn’t she died? Then why was her heart pounding so fiercely? And who was this man before her?  

She hardly believed the underworld was so considerate as to assign a drop-dead gorgeous husband to the deceased.  

A flood of questions surged in her mind, only to be replaced by a sudden rush of memories—no, not hers, but plotlines from a story.  

Once she finally sorted through them, Song Shixi understood what had happened.  

Minutes ago, she had been live-streaming in a car when an accident occurred. After her death, she had somehow transmigrated into a period novel that a fan had recommended in the comments—becoming the cannon-fodder supporting female character who shared her name.  

The original host had no family and was taken in by the female lead’s father at eighteen.  

Due to her upbringing, she was insecure and sensitive, yet stubborn and prideful. Unwilling to live under someone else’s roof, she ignored the Qin family’s warnings and obsessed over marrying early, desperate for a home of her own like other village women.  

She neglected her studies, dressing provocatively and focusing solely on snagging a good husband. This led to a heated argument with her best friend—the novel’s female lead—during which she pushed her down the stairs, fracturing her leg and leaving her covered in scrapes. The injuries nearly ended the female lead’s dancing career.  

Their friendship shattered, turning them into bitter enemies.  

Later, the original host set her sights on the female lead’s fiancé, engaging in a secret affair with him. In a desperate bid to marry him, she drugged him at the female lead’s birthday banquet, forcing them into a compromising situation.  

She got her wish but was disgraced, and the Qin family severed all ties with her.  

Unfazed, she believed married life would be better—only for the scumbag, seeing that the Qin family had abandoned her, to start cheating and abusing her without restraint. This led to a premature birth, massive hemorrhaging, and her death on the operating table—along with her unborn child.  

After her death, the female lead met the male lead, fell in love, and with the help of her powerful older brother, built a business empire, achieving success in both love and career.  

After absorbing all this, Song Shixi shuddered at the original host’s fate.  

This was the epitome of “play stupid games, win stupid prizes.” She had ruined a perfectly good hand—and now, that losing hand had been passed to her.  

But why had the drugged target changed from the female lead’s fiancé to *her brother*?  

That was the most ruthless, sadistic madman in the entire novel! If she fell into his hands, she wouldn’t survive even with nine lives.  

Feeling the icy, disgusted glare fixed on her, Song Shixi trembled. Maybe playing dead was the better option. But the moment she closed her eyes, his low, frigid voice cut through the silence.  

“Come here.”

Two simple words, yet they carried an oppressive weight—as if disobeying would result in him snapping her neck without hesitation.  

Swallowing hard, Song Shixi bit her lip and pushed herself up using the wall. But before she could steady herself, the door behind her suddenly rattled as someone tried to force it open.  

Startled, she gasped—only for a large hand to clamp over her mouth, silencing her.  

He moved swiftly, his body pressing flush against hers in an instant.  

His dominating presence enveloped her completely. She could feel the unnatural heat radiating from him, scorching and intense.  

His muscular arm locked around her chest, the sheer force of his grip pressing painfully against her softness through the thin fabric.  

A strange sensation spread from deep within her body, and soon, the tips of her ears burned red. Her legs weakened, threatening to give out—until another large hand seized her waist, holding her firmly in place against him.  

“Don’t move.”

His scorching breath brushed against her neck, sending shivers down her spine.  

Song Shixi had never been this close to a man before. Her eyes widened, her heartbeat spiraling out of control—but soon, embarrassment gave way to fear and anger. Breathing became difficult, and the suffocating sensation made her struggle instinctively.  

But the person outside was still trying to open the door. Perhaps thinking she meant to call for help, he tightened his grip. Desperate, she mustered all her strength and bit down hard on the fleshy part of his hand.  

Her teeth sank into his skin, the metallic tang of blood filling her mouth—yet he didn’t flinch, his hold unrelenting.  

Madman.

Song Shixi cursed inwardly, her stubbornness flaring up. If he wouldn’t let go, then she wouldn’t either. The two of them remained locked in a silent standoff—but the difference in strength between men and women was undeniable. Just as she was about to yield from lack of oxygen, the person outside seemed to finally give up, and the noise ceased.  

Almost simultaneously, they released each other, taking half a step back.  

Song Shixi gasped for air, her chest heaving. As soon as she caught her breath, she noticed the man wiping his hand on his shirt with blatant disgust, as if he’d touched something filthy. The sight nearly made her explode with rage.  

In her over twenty years of life, this was the first time a man had ever recoiled from her like she was repulsive!  

Hadn’t men always fawned over her, groveling for her attention? She was used to being the center of admiration.  

The stark contrast made her expression turn frosty, and she glared at him with undisguised resentment.  

Little did she know, her fiery gaze only fueled his misinterpretation.  

Qin Yue watched as Song Shixi’s expression shifted several times before finally settling into what he perceived as a deliberate, sultry look—her peach-blossom eyes shimmering with a provocative allure. His brow furrowed.  

Her ink-black hair had come loose at some point, cascading messily down her waist, framing her small, porcelain-pale face in a way that was almost dazzling. A few strands even tangled around his arm, weaving an unspoken tension between them.  

Her skin was like snow, her eyes glistening, her plump lips the color of spring peaches—radiant and delicate, like a seductive fox spirit from the mountains, one that feasted on men’s souls.  

Where was the timid caution she’d shown when they first met?  

Now, she was outright audacious.  

From the moment he’d first seen her today, he’d known she was beautiful—but her demeanor had been meek, almost pitifully submissive, the kind of woman who couldn’t command respect. And after what she’d done to Zhiyi, his disdain for her had only deepened.  

When Zhiyi had been hospitalized with a fracture, he’d been abroad on business. By the time he returned, it was too late—his father had already taken Song Shixi under his wing, shielding her. He’d had no choice but to suppress his fury, planning to deal with her once they returned to the capital.  

Yet who could’ve guessed that beneath her timid facade, she’d dare to use such underhanded tactics against him?  

First, drugging his drink. Then luring him to this storage room, locking the door, and throwing herself at him. When he shoved her away, she still didn’t learn her lesson—instead, she’d tried to call someone in, hoping to trap him in a compromising situation so she could force her way into his life.  

When all her schemes failed, she resorted to seduction.  

Shameless. Vixen. Brazen beyond belief.

Qin Yue’s eyes darkened, his gaze growing even more contemptuous.  

Still, no matter how much he despised her, she was technically half a ward of the Qin family. If word of this got out, it would bring nothing but scandal. The only option was to suppress it.  

With that thought, Qin Yue clenched his jaw, struggling to suppress the heat coiling inside him. His voice was icy when he finally spoke:  

“Climb out the window. Find my secretary in the front hall. Otherwise—”  

He left the threat unspoken, but the implication was clear.  

Song Shixi, still fuming, ignored him completely, focusing instead on smoothing out her clothes.  

When no response came, a vein pulsed at Qin Yue’s temple. His breathing grew heavier with irritation as he lifted his gaze—only to find her leisurely combing her hair with her fingers. Her sleeve slipped down as she raised her arm, revealing a slender, jade-white wrist.  

He frowned and looked away—only for his eyes to land on the delicate curve of her waist where her clothes had ridden up.  

The more he tried to avoid looking, the more his gaze snagged on places it shouldn’t. In frustration, he raised a hand to block his vision—but with sight gone, his other senses sharpened unbearably.  

The rustle of fabric. The soft sound of her lips pressing together as she tied her hair. The faint, sweet fragrance lingering in the air…  

Every little detail amplified, gnawing at his self-control.  

Qin Yue dug his nails into his palm, drawing blood.  

Song Shixi noticed instantly, and a smug smirk curled her lips. Normally, she wouldn’t dare provoke this madman—but right now, he was drugged. What could he possibly do to her?  

As for whether he’d seek revenge later…  

Even without this incident, he’d never have let her off easy. She might as well vent her anger first and figure out the rest later.  

But as she watched his condition worsen, a flicker of concern cut through her satisfaction. She didn’t want him losing control and doing something irreversible—but she also didn’t want him dying here. After all, the drug the original host had bought was meant for livestock breeding!  

Without further delay, she darted past him, dragged a chair to the window, and climbed up. Once she confirmed she could escape safely, she glanced down at him and asked coolly:  

“What color is your secretary wearing today?”  

By now, Qin Yue was barely coherent. His eyes burned crimson as he stared at her, movements sluggish.  

The last rays of sunset spilled into the room, gilding her hair in a warm, fiery glow.  

His vision blurred slightly, and for some reason, his mind fixated on the bite mark she’d left on his hand—shallow but vivid, not painful, yet itching deep beneath his skin.  

“Black,” he gritted out.  

With that, she slipped out the window and vanished.  

The dim room was silent again, leaving him alone.  

Qin Yue could hold back no longer. His legs gave out, and he slumped to the floor, breathing raggedly.  

A breeze drifted through the half-open window, carrying traces of her scent—but instead of cooling him down, it only stoked the fire inside him.