Shen An had anticipated that Zhao Qingyu would tamper with the lock on his door, trapping him in the room.
But he hadn’t expected her to go so far as to reset the default password entirely.
Each room card was essentially a small chip programmed with the unique password for its corresponding door lock. These passwords were auto-generated in a random sequence, ensuring no two were alike.
With manual intervention, however, one could set a custom password—much like the electronic locks on home doors.
He let out a few cold chuckles, glancing downward. Zhao Qingyu flushed with even greater embarrassment and quickly tried to cover it up. “What are you standing around for? Hurry up and get inside.”
Hmph.
Shen An decided not to stoop to her level. Scooping Zhao Qingyu into his arms, he carried her back into his room.
He kicked off his wet shoes and peeled away his socks, rubbing his feet on the carpet until a sense of dryness finally returned to his soles. With a long exhale, he felt much more comfortable.
Zhao Qingyu, meanwhile, remained wrapped in her damp stockings, her high heels set aside by her feet. Hesitation flickered across her delicate face, as if she were debating whether to slip them back on.
After drying his own feet, Shen An sauntered over and teased her. “Senior Sister, why aren’t you taking those off? You’ll catch a cold.”
Zhao Qingyu blinked in surprise, shot him a glare, and then resolutely slid her high heels back on.
Ugh…
That sticky sensation…
She frowned instinctively.
Shen An knew full well she wouldn’t change clothes in his room. They’d had a blast on the beach, but they weren’t yet at the point of complete candor with each other.
Not by a long shot.
Still, her pointless fussing gave him an opening for more teasing. “Heading back to your room, Senior Sister? Want me to escort you?”
“Stay right there.”
Zhao Qingyu turned and headed for the door.
Shen An plopped down on the sofa with a grin, only to spring back up immediately. The cushion bore the clear imprint of his backside.
Damn…
He’d almost forgotten his pants were still soaked.
He pivoted as well, intending to take a shower.
But after just a few steps, he halted and called out to Zhao Qingyu. “Senior Sister, where’s my phone?”
“In my room,” she replied coolly.
“Come on… you have to give it back.”
“Oh?” Zhao Qingyu glanced back over her shoulder, her lips curving into a smirk. “Sorry, I must have forgotten to charge it for you. I’ll head back and plug it in now.”
Shen An: ?
He tilted his head. “Then how am I supposed to survive this endless night?”
A person could last without water or food for a while.
But without a phone…
That was true torment.
Zhao Qingyu’s smile brimmed with mischief and triumph, her voice light and playful. “Beats me. But with a bed that size, you can sprawl out however you like.”
The corner of Shen An’s mouth twitched. “So you’re telling me to hit the hay right now?”
It wasn’t even late—there was no way he could sleep!
Especially since he’d napped from afternoon straight through to evening. He wasn’t the least bit drowsy.
“You could always watch some TV,” she suggested. “Or count the stars before bed.”
Now it was Zhao Qingyu’s turn to grin mischievously as she waved at him. With a click, the door shut behind her.
“I…”
Shen An swallowed a curse and trudged toward the bathroom, deflated.
This long night—would he really end up counting stars?
Back in her own room, Zhao Qingyu immediately flung off her high heels.
Her sodden stockings squelched with each step, leaving distinct footprints on the floor.
She rushed into the bathroom and stripped away the drenched long skirt and clinging stockings in one frantic motion.
It was probably the fastest she’d ever undressed—no trace of her usual grace as she yanked at the buttons and tore downward.
Once the skirt and stockings were off, Zhao Qingyu breathed a sigh of relief. She was finally rid of that infernal stickiness.
Clad only in her form-fitting underwear, she turned to face the large bathroom mirror.
Her reflection revealed a sensually curvaceous figure. As she lifted a hand to tousle her short hair and delicately remove her earrings, subtle muscle lines emerged on her flat abdomen. They perfectly accentuated her tall frame and long, shapely legs—a vision overflowing with seductive allure.
Unfortunately, she was alone in the bathroom. Having admired her own body countless times, she felt not the slightest ripple of excitement.
Tucking the lone earring away, Zhao Qingyu loosely draped a bathrobe over herself and ambled back into the living room.
She retrieved her bag and slipped the earring into its case, alongside the lone gem from its mate.
Then, on impulse, she picked up Shen An’s phone.
A light tap on the screen brought it to life, fully charged.
Truth be told, Zhao Qingyu simply hadn’t wanted to return it to him so soon.
The sight of several missed calls reignited her playful curiosity.
She eagerly opened his messaging app, dying to see exactly how Wang Yuqiong and Song Rui had reacted.
Glaring red notification dots drew her eye first—both Song Rui and Wang Yuqiong had sent a flurry of messages.
Zhao Qingyu tapped open Wang Yuqiong’s chat first.
Hm?
Wang Yuqiong had bombarded him with messages, all urging him to hurry up, laced with threats and tough talk.
But after the fireworks began at eight o’clock, not a single message from her.
Not one.
Zhao Qingyu narrowed her eyes, a cold smirk playing on her lips. “Looks like she caught on. The girl’s as perceptive as ever. But it doesn’t matter—no one was going to be fooled for long anyway. Just a question of time.”
She was far more concerned about Shen An’s reaction once he found out.
Before they headed out that evening, she’d agonized endlessly over his feelings, her concern plain as day.
And upon their return, that worry hadn’t faded in the slightest. If anything, it had skyrocketed.
Sigh.
Zhao Qingyu sighed to herself. There was no point dwelling on it now. What was done was done—why torture herself over it?
That guy wouldn’t explode at her, would he?
I… I’m his senior sister!
His boss, no less.
Yeah, at worst, he’d sulk a little, like before.
Zhao Qingyu could only reassure herself this way, mustering her own encouragement. Otherwise, she’d spiral into melancholy.
The more sensitive the girl, the more her doubts and worries crowded in.
She backed out of Wang Yuqiong’s chat and opened Song Rui’s.
The very first message stopped Zhao Qingyu cold.
It was a photo of the night sky adorned with fireworks.
Captioned simply: “Tonight’s fireworks were beautiful~”
No elaborate flourishes—just a straightforward share and a touch of wonder.
What left Zhao Qingyu stunned was the timestamp: precisely one hour earlier.
Right at the fireworks’ finale.
She furrowed her brow, muttering under her breath. “This girl… did she wait there all alone until they ended?”
The realization hit her with utter certainty.
A self-mocking smile tugged at her lips as she thought to jeer inwardly: “Talk about stubborn. She knew he wouldn’t show, but waited anyway. Not an ounce of flexibility.”
Yet that mockery dissolved into something far more complex.
Sarcasm, after all, was just a subconscious shield for inner guilt.
Wang Yuqiong was sharp as a tack. The instant she sensed Shen An wouldn’t appear, she turned on her heel without a second thought.
The fireworks’ beauty? Irrelevant.
She’d only wanted to watch them with him.
Without Shen An, even the grandest display held no meaning for her.
Her swift adaptability spoke volumes about her cleverness.
Song Rui, by contrast, was a fool.
Knowing full well he wouldn’t come, she’d waited like an idiot until the very end.
But when it came to matters of the heart, was the clever one’s quick pivot more compelling—or did the fool’s dogged persistence cut deeper?
Zhao Qingyu stared blankly at the photo, at the words.
Guilt unlike any she’d felt before welled up inside her.
Yes, Song Rui’s utterly foolish persistence had shattered Zhao Qingyu’s mischief and smug satisfaction.
All her enthusiasm evaporated in an instant. She set Shen An’s phone down silently and pressed her hands to her face in weary exhaustion.
After a moment, she murmured with a self-deprecating laugh. “This girl’s something else… Way more than Yuqiong.”
She could already picture it: when Shen An learned of this, his heartache over Song Rui’s foolish devotion.
The deeper his pain, the greater her own unease.
The harsher his blame toward her.
Yet she couldn’t summon even a flicker of resentment. It felt like a penalty she fully deserved.
With Wang Yuqiong, she could at least mock her smarts.
But Song Rui’s brand of foolishness? It left her with nothing but guilt—overwhelming guilt.
Fine, then.
Zhao Qingyu rose and made her way back to the bathroom.
She’d shed the skirt and stockings, but Shen An’s splash of seawater had soaked her from head to toe.
She couldn’t bear that discomfort for much longer—especially without him there to distract her.
Roughly an hour later, Zhao Qingyu stepped out of the shower, vigorously toweling her damp hair.
She pushed open the door to her room, intending to grab her pajamas and change into something dry and clean.
But the moment she did, Zhao Qingyu froze in the doorway, rooted to the spot.
Although it wasn’t the first time she’d seen it…
Although she’d already seen it many times that afternoon…
Still…
Zhao Qingyu stared at the wreckage in her room, unable to hold back her surging anger and the disgust that threatened to overwhelm her.
This room was beyond saving!
She had to switch to a new one—absolutely!
She didn’t even have the slightest urge to clean it up.
It wasn’t mere laziness on her part. No, it was the sheer revulsion she felt toward the one responsible for this mess—a revulsion so powerful that she wanted nothing more than to erase every trace of it from existence.
Sleeping here tonight? Unthinkable.
Impossible…
Absolutely impossible!
Just the thought made Zhao Qingyu’s stomach churn.
Yes, she couldn’t stay here.
She needed to find somewhere else to sleep.
The idea came to her with effortless clarity, carrying along another thought in its wake.
It felt like more than just her hatred for the culprit who had trashed her room. It also seemed to fulfill some deep-seated expectation buried in her subconscious.
That was why the notion struck so swiftly, without the slightest resistance.
In that instant, Zhao Qingyu made up her mind.
Tonight, she would sleep in a different room.
