Chapter 9: The Boss And Her White Little Lotus
Her fingers brushed against the bouquet almost by accident, yet her eyes never left Lin Qinglan. The heroine hadn't even accepted Yao Yinuo's flowers — hadn't looked at him, hadn't acknowledged him at all — and Yu Zixue's chest swelled with a mix of delight and pride.
Look, look, her system whispered in her mind, brimming with approval. She's ignoring him completely. Host your the best. I bet she's thinking about you…
The tension was thick, almost tactile. Lin Qinglan felt it in the subtle tremor of Yu Zixue's hands, the curve of her shoulders beneath her peach - pink fabric, the playful tilt of her head, and the small bursts of laughter that rose like music through the space.
Every glance, every flicker of emotion, every teasing gesture was amplified in the intimate setting, Yu Zixue's heartbeat practically echoing in her chest as she soaked in every teasing, electric moment.
Lin Qinglan's pulse ticked faster, every careful breath and composed gesture layered with quiet awareness of Yu Zixue's presence.
Her little white lotus, so bright, so chaotic, had a way of unraveling her with a single glance, a single brush of skin, and she knew it too well. The room seemed to shrink until only the three existed — the bouquet between Lin Qinglan and Yao Yinuo, and the heat, the laughter, and the tension spiraling from Yu Zixue.
Yu Zixue let out a soft squeak of delight, trying to rein in her excitement but failing entirely. "Finally… finally!" she whispered, giggling under her breath, cheeks flushed, 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 Qinglan with impossible precision. The air around her seemed to ripple with her energy, subtle yet impossible to ignore.
Lin Qinglan's eyes followed her like a predator savoring the chase, 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 resist. This little white lotus… she undoes me every time. Every gaze, every movement, every breath. Lin Qinglan's chest tightened slightly, a feeling she barely acknowledged, but one that whispered at her pulse.
Yu Zixue, oblivious to the subtle storm she provoked, kept bouncing with excitement, brushing past Yao Yinuo, yet her eyes flicked back to Lin Qinglan constantly, playful, daring, intimate.
Lin Qinglan's pulse quickened at the sight, a mixture of amusement, exasperation, and a simmering desire she couldn't fully name. The room seemed to shrink around them, crowded with people and props, yet every eye in Lin Qinglan's world was locked on the small white lotus in front of her.
And there, in that small, crowded space, tension and intimacy coiled like a living thing. Yu Zixue's energy, the soft flutter of her skirts, the warmth in her eyes, the teasing little smiles — all pressed against Lin Qinglan's calm composure, whispering a promise of things unspoken, a heat neither could resist.
Even as Yao Yinuo extended the bouquet, Lin Qinglan 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 Zixue, whose presence made every serious moment crack with warmth, playfulness, tension, and desire all at once.
Lin Qinglan didn't even look at him. She stepped past Yao Yinuo as if he were nothing more than a misplaced prop on set, his stunned expression suspended in the air behind her. Her long coat swayed with her movement, dark fabric brushing against her calves as she crossed the room with measured, decisive strides. She walked straight toward Yu Zixue.
Yu Zixue'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 Yinuo's back, voice trembling with a fragile weight. "Brother Yinuo."
The words were soft, yet they filled the room with the gravity of unspoken history. Yao Yinuo's jaw clenched. His entanglement with Ruxue had already stirred enough rumors, enough scrutiny, enough whispers. And now, with Lin Qinglan standing right there, he could hardly contain himself.
His fingers tightened around the bouquet of roses, stems bending slightly under his grip. He looked back. "Voiceless —" He didn't finish.
"Let's go." Lin Qinglan's voice cut through the moment like a blade. Calm. Even. Absolute.
Yao Yinuo blinked. "Voiceless?" The disbelief in her single word betrayed him.
Lin Qinglan's gaze flicked to Yu Zixue's face. Yu Zixue lowered her lashes at just the right angle, fingers curling lightly into the fabric at her waist. Fragile, perfect, untouchable. The little white lotus.
System… she whispered inwardly, voice quivering with playful dramatics. Are you sure the heroine doesn't prefer women?
There was a brief pause.
Why are you asking? Her system replied evenly.
Because look at her, Yu Zixue continued, shoulders quivering just enough to sell the act. She didn't even look at Yao Yinuo. She hates him. I can feel it. I won't have a hard time finishing my task.
Her system hummed thoughtfully. Remember, host, I already checked. Nothing is wrong with the heroine.
Yu Zixue blinked inwardly. Nothing wrong?
Nothing abnormal in her settings, the system clarified. If anything… perhaps it's simply your charm.
Yu Zixue nearly choked on her own suppressed laughter. My charm?
Your performance has been consistent, her system replied. Your influence is measurable. It is possible the variable is you.
She almost preened but forced her lashes to flutter weakly. So you're saying she might just like me?
I am saying, her system answered in its usual restrained tone, that your presence appears effective. Continue.
See? Yu Zixue 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, her system commented, approval unmistakable beneath the tone. Efficient.
Outside of her internal theatrics, Yu Zixue was crying without restraint now, breath uneven, shoulders trembling slightly. Yet she tried to hold herself together, forcing her lips upward in a brave, bright smile whenever Yao Yinuo looked her way.
The contrast — her obvious vulnerability and the stubborn attempt at strength — struck Lin Qinglan directly.
An unnamed fire rose inside her. Is he really that good? Even after bruising her 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 Qinglan's expression cooled, a mixture of affection and indifference that made her unreadable. "I still have a photo shoot tonight," she said evenly. "Master Yinuo, you should head back." Her tone wasn't loud. It didn't need to be.
She stepped closer to Yu Zixue. Without hesitation, she wrapped an arm around Yu Zixue's slim shoulders and pulled her gently — yet firmly — into her side. The scent of Yu Zixue's shampoo rose faintly between them, soft and floral. Her body was warm, delicate, almost quivering. Lin Qinglan felt it immediately.