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Qin Xiao watched her.
The stage lights were dazzling, shifting in a kaleidoscope of colors, transitioning into the scene he had been anticipating the most.
The young girl sat on a swing, her oversized shoes slipping off, revealing her delicate, snow-white feet.
She was only nineteen—a full eight years younger than him.
Everything about her exuded youthful innocence.
Su Ling tilted her head slightly, resting it against the swing.
As the swing swayed gently, his expression remained calm, but his heartbeat raced.
This play, Childhood Sweethearts, was his creation. Crafted according to his preferences, revisited in countless dreams.
The woman he longed for, performing actions enticing enough to lure him in.
It was even more overwhelming than he had imagined.
Qin Xiao raised his hand to his lips, covering his Adam’s apple as it bobbed.
Beside him, Guo Mingyan was also stunned, stammering after a long pause, “This… this is just too…”
Too beautiful. Like an absurd yet enchanting dream.
Dong Xu lowered his head, lost in thought.
Qin Xiao suddenly felt a flicker of displeasure.
But he was a man of depth, his face cold and unreadable, revealing nothing.
The evening event soon came to an end.
Since the organizers were well aware of the situation, and Childhood Sweethearts had been performed exceptionally well, it received the highest score.
Z University was holding a celebratory banquet.
Guo Mingyan grinned. “Xiao-ge, heading back?”
“After dinner.”
No one objected. Everyone assumed he was staying for his “little girlfriend,” Tang Weiwei.
So they called Tang Weiwei over. She had already removed her makeup, her heart filled with both anticipation and jealousy.
Everyone thought the Young Master Qin treated her differently, but she knew the truth.
Young Master Qin didn’t see her as his girlfriend.
Most of the time, they were at the entertainment club across the street, where Qin Xiao would watch the busy girl in the distance. That beauty was always smiling—soft and delicate, yet full of warmth.
When she smiled, it was radiant and sweet.
And Young Master Qin would curve his lips in response.
Tang Weiwei’s only use was to report: “Su Ling got confessed to again today, but she rejected him. Actually, not many people in our year confess to her because she’s hard to approach—her personality is quite aloof. The boys who’ve confessed to her? She won’t even speak to them afterward.”
“They all say Su Ling is cold.”
So Qin Xiao merely watched, his gaze filled with obsession—three parts the playful appreciation of a beauty, seven parts something far deeper.
During the celebratory banquet that night, Tang Weiwei sat among the group of young masters, gnashing her teeth in frustration.
No one in that room understood Qin Xiao’s preferences better than she did.
But bearing the title of “Qin Xiao’s woman” had brought her too many benefits—she couldn’t bring herself to give it up so easily.
Their group was on the second floor; Su Ling and her peers were on the first.
Someone teased, “Tang Weiwei, that girl with bare feet—she’s from your department, right? What’s her name?”
Before Tang Weiwei could respond, Qin Xiao set down his glass with a sharp clink. His icy expression silenced the room.
Among these wealthy heirs, some were downright vile.
It was Dong Xu who finally spoke up. “She seems like a very proper girl. Don’t go provoking her. If anything happens, none of us will look good.”
Qin Xiao lowered his gaze.
Dong Xu glanced at him. “Remember that recent case of the female college student’s suicide? Let’s all be more mindful.”
Qin Xiao pressed his lips together, downing glass after glass of alcohol.
No one dared to stop him, nor did anyone understand where this sudden mood had come from.
He drank heavily.
His steps were unsteady. When Young Master Qin drank, everyone drank with him—even the lightest drinkers were tipsy.
Guo Mingyan slurred, “Damn… Dong Xu, why do you have three heads… hic…”
The hotel rooms had been booked upstairs. Tang Weiwei’s eyes gleamed as she moved to support Qin Xiao. “Young Master Qin, let me help you. Are you alright?”
The man was drunk. He pinched her chin, studying her for a long moment before coldly uttering, “Get lost.”
Tang Weiwei paled. She hadn’t expected him to still recognize her in this state.
This man was ruthless. She didn’t dare provoke him now, no matter how unwilling she was. She didn’t dare follow him upstairs.
Qin Xiao swayed slightly, steadied himself, and returned to his room.
His mind was foggy. He groped his way to the bed and collapsed onto it.
A moment later, his eyes snapped open.
His hand touched another body.
Qin Xiao turned his head and saw her.
The room was dimly lit. Her eyes were closed, her cheeks slightly flushed, her breathing even.
Long lashes cast faint shadows on her face.
Breathtakingly beautiful.
His hand rested on her waist.
Ever since meeting her, sleepless nights were often filled with dreams like this.
Tonight was no exception.
He kissed her. She remained unconscious, the sweet fragrance of her youth intoxicating him.
His body felt weightless.
Perhaps it was the alcohol, but tonight’s dream was especially vivid—more thrilling than any before.
He stripped off her clothes.
His hands roamed freely over her body, licking and biting. His heartbeat spiraled out of control.
Here, she was a sleeping beauty, entirely at his mercy.
Only in moments like this could he get so close to her.
When he entered her, she let out a soft whimper, but the drugs kept her from waking.
For a moment, the dream felt too real—the pleasure so intense it made his spine tremble, spreading to every limb. He hovered over her delicate frame, fingers trembling as they brushed her face.
Fuck.
Every intimate touch was pure ecstasy.
He came once, regained some clarity, then buried himself inside her again.
By then, Qin Xiao had already begun to suspect something was wrong.
Dreams always ended at a certain point, leaving him emptier upon waking. But this—this was pure, unadulterated satisfaction.
Back then, he was far from a good man. He figured since she was already in his bed, what difference did it make if he took her once, twice, or three times?
That night was one of the most despicable acts of his twenty-seven years of life. He was a beast—but it was also the most exhilarating, pleasure-filled night he’d ever experienced.
He couldn’t sleep afterward, afraid it was all a dream, yet equally afraid it wasn’t.
Dawn came. The lingering effects of alcohol finally lulled him into a brief doze.
Deep down, he wasn’t entirely at ease.
But coldly, he reasoned: If not for this night, he might have spent his whole life watching her from afar. Or worse—confessing like those boys at her school, being rejected, and then never speaking to her again.
Tch. What a wicked opportunity.
He didn’t dare sleep longer than her, afraid she’d wake and make a scene.
Though it had started with him being drunk, the subsequent rounds had been fully conscious.
Dong Xu’s words were like a needle, forcing him to face the severity of the consequences.
When daylight came, she woke.
She seemed dazed, taking a long moment to process what had happened.
Her face paled. Her body was covered in marks—all from his initial excitement.
Instinctively, she slapped him.
The sharp crack left a red imprint on his cheek, but he didn’t even flinch. His eyes darkened as he said coldly, “What? You climbed into my bed yourself, and now you regret it?”
Inside, a frost spread. So it was the worst-case scenario—she hadn’t come willingly.
Su Ling was terrified, on the verge of breaking down. She started crying.
Soft, pitiful sobs. She looked utterly devastated.
He watched for a while, then suddenly laughed. “Hey, wouldn’t it be good with me? I’ll treat you well from now on, alright?”
Even he couldn’t tell how much of that was sincere.
He knew he was obsessed with her—to a somewhat pathological degree.
But a man’s obsession with a woman? Sometimes, that was perfectly normal.
It wasn’t until countless nights of loving and losing her that he finally understood: Love was buried deep in his blood, woven into his every breath. Each heartbeat was laced with pain.
If he could do it over, he would never have started things this way.
Su Ling left. She dressed herself and walked out, still crying.
Young Master Qin sat with a red slap mark on his face, smoking irritably.
Goddamn it!
He stubbed out the cigarette and drove off.
If she didn’t want him, fine. He’d never begged anyone in his life.
Forget it. Stop thinking about her. Didn’t you already have her?
But even he couldn’t fool himself with such beastly thoughts.
He still missed her. After work each night, he’d still take the long way to the small shop where she worked.
But she hadn’t shown up in a long time.
He missed her even more when he slept. It was like an addiction. If he’d never experienced it, he could’ve lived without it. But once he knew how it felt, the craving was unbearable.
He completely forgot his earlier resolve to let her go. He started investigating her again.
What he found made him frown.
Su Ling wasn’t doing well. Somehow, rumors of their night together had spread.
The story of “Su Ling climbing into someone’s bed” had become a scandal at her university.
Thinking of her soft, delicate demeanor, his heart sank. He feared she might do something drastic.
This kind of verbal abuse was too much for a nineteen-year-old girl to bear.
But after observing her for a few days, he realized she was surprisingly resilient.
She attended classes as usual, seemingly deaf to the gossip. When people whispered behind her back, she’d just press her lips together and ignore them.
Like a flower blooming through cracks in stone—fragile yet unyielding.
He scoffed.
Seemed like she’d forget that night soon enough.
A girl this soft yet strong—nothing could leave a lasting mark on her heart.
He was no good, and he knew it.
He never denied it.
He wanted her—more desperately with each passing day.
He was despicable, making no effort to suppress the rumors.
See how cruel these people are to you? Come to me. No one would dare bother you again.
But he was a beast accustomed to lurking in the shadows. His fangs were bared—he just needed the right opportunity.
That opportunity came with Su Ling’s grandmother.
Qin Xiao had investigated everything. So when her grandmother fell ill, he knew before she did.
He changed into a fresh shirt, leisurely tying his tie.
The girl’s face was streaked with tears.
He smiled. “Be with me, and I’ll save your grandmother. Deal?”
He knew she’d agree.
And so, with a heart full of wickedness, he finally had her.
In the early days at his villa, she both resented the man who’d ruined her and felt grateful to the man who’d helped her.
She’d call him “Mr. Qin” in that sweet, soft voice.
“Mr. Qin, you’re back?”
“No, Mr. Qin, you promised not to…”
“You don’t need to give me these things, Mr. Qin. Thank you.”
Later, when he gave her an anklet, she shook her head. ”I don’t like this, Mr. Qin.”
He chuckled lowly. ”Well, I do.”
Her lips pursed in a pout. They put chains on cats and dogs, she thought.
He knelt and fastened the anklet himself.
Her jade-like feet were exquisite, mesmerizingly beautiful.
Cradling her foot in his palm, beyond the surge of desire, he felt something unexpected—tenderness.
For the first time, he recognized his feelings for her. It was stranger than mere possession.
He began to crave more.
He wanted her eyes on him—only him. He wanted her to rely on him, to love him.
So one night, when she tearfully begged him to stop, he held back and coaxed, ”Lingling, say you love me.”
He searched her eyes. For a fleeting moment, her gaze wavered—then cleared.
Her lips pressed together, tears welling, but those words never came.
Not even in the year she died did she ever say them.
He hadn’t realized her resilience could be so infuriating when turned against him.
At first, he’d approached her just to soothe his restless heart. But somewhere along the way, everything changed.
Auntie Ding once said, ”The young miss likes gentle men. She says it’d be nice if they could cook.”
It sounded absurd.
Yet he found himself in the kitchen.
When she scrunched her nose in distaste, his heart melted even as he scowled. ”Don’t you dare spit it out. Eat.”
Even his dead father hadn’t gotten this treatment.
Another time, he took her to see the sunrise.
Of course, their luck was terrible—the car got a flat tire.
This delicate girl—he couldn’t bear to make her walk.
“Get on.”
“Mr. Qin, maybe we should skip the sunrise.”
“Stop arguing. Hurry up.”
Her soft body pressed against his back, her slender arms lightly circling his neck. Despite her curves, she weighed nothing.
With every step, his heart grew warmer.
It was a complicated feeling, slamming into his chest—sweet yet aching.
She clung to him obediently, full of trust.
He didn’t feel tired. In fact, he wished the road would stretch longer—he could walk like this forever.
When the sun finally rose, its warm red hues painted half the sky, casting her face in radiant light.
Watching the sunrise, she smiled softly.
“When we’re old, I’ll bring you to see the sunset, alright?”
She tilted her head, looking adorably confused. ”Mr. Qin, what did you say?”
“...Never mind.”
“Oh.”
That was the first time he realized how terrifying love could be. It crept into his subconscious without warning. What began as obsession grew into something far greedier.
Even having her in his bones didn’t feel like enough.
Coldly, he thought: This thing—it’s made me weak. What the hell have I been doing all this time?
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