February 3, 2024, Lunar December 24, Saturday, Clear

"Smash—!"

A muffled thud.

Xu Qing rolled right off the bed and slammed her forehead into the thick carpet.

"Ow... that hurts..."

She lay there, hair disheveled, and only after several seconds did she stare blankly and lift her head.

Before her was the familiar bedroom of the Paris Grand Hotel Royal Suite,

no golden dome.

No multi-story ocean palace rising into the sky.

No manic Anne Kate brandishing a marker.

No elite inner circle in a flying fish suit.

No white judgment hall, no interrogation by a noble lady, no maid outfit and that hellish "go make the bed" scene.

Only the pale golden morning light sneaking through the curtain slit and the quiet, glowing digital clock on the bedside table.

7:30 a.m.

"Ha—"

She exhaled a long breath and collapsed limply onto the carpet.

"So it was just a dream..."

"Mm— that scared me..."

She murmured a couple things under her breath and patted her wildly racing chest.

But the next second, the image of the stockings she’d seen in the bathroom last night—the abnormal creases and pull marks near the top of the thigh, Ouyang Xianyue’s slightly flushed face, her loosened long hair, the overly glossy lips—rushed back into her mind.

Xu Qing’s expression froze.

She scrambled up, glanced left and right out of instinct.

The suite was quiet.

As expected, Tang Song wasn't there.

With his increasingly eccentric routine, he’d most likely already worked out, showered, perhaps even handled breakfast and his schedule for the day.

Relieved, Xu Qing allowed herself a small breath.

Thank goodness Little Song wasn't here.

If he saw the state she was in after that nightmare, he would definitely mock her mercilessly.

Wearing slippers, she hurried into the bathroom, clacking along.

The spacious, bright marble room was neat, as if nothing had happened last night.

Xu Qing, however, walked straight to the metal rack beside the sink.

Her heart pounded.

She’d panicked so much yesterday that she’d shoved that pair of stockings into a crevice on impulse.

Now she bent down and peered cautiously inside.

(000n)!

They were still there!

Really still there!

That thin, silky nude stocking lay quietly wedged deep in the slit, like a dangerous piece of evidence ready to detonate the plot at any moment.

Xu Qing felt a cold tingle crawl across her scalp.

The crisis was far from over!

She glanced around like a thief, squatted there holding her head, eyes wide.

"This is bad, this is bad, this is bad."

"We're going out to sea today..."

"How am I supposed to face Sister Xianyue?!"

She silently collapsed into despair for a few seconds but didn’t dare pull the stockings out. Pretending not to have seen anything, she backed out of the bathroom with nervous glances over her shoulder.

Back in the bedroom,

she clutched at her chest and collapsed back, sinking heavily into the overly soft bed.

But her mind wouldn't stop.

They were friends now, had contact so many times—given her curious nature she’d already secretly learned much about Ouyang Xianyue.

Her pristine reputation.

Her noble family background.

That she was a wealthy noblewoman and a widow.

That in recent years she single-handedly propped up things and pushed Tang Yi Precision step by step into a world-class industrial giant.

People mentioned her as dignified, composed, strong, restrained.

Like a statue of a revered white-robed Guanyin placed high above, never to be sullied by dust.

Even rumors assumed she mourned her late husband deeply,

guarding the family business, reputation, and propriety with unerring steps.

For the family.

For the company.

For the nation's manufacturing.

She naturally stood above public scrutiny, nearly flawless, with no one daring to ruin such a woman.

And yet...

she—Xu Qing—had discovered such a huge secret.

According to the novels and films, a minor character who accidentally uncovers such a secret rarely fares well.

At best, they get scolded.

At worst, they get recruited.

Worse still, they might be forced into some shameful, eye-closing subplot.

Thinking of that, a flood of scenes from her dream returned uncontrollably.

Noble lady.

Maid outfit.

Wealthy household battle.

Xu Qing tugged the blanket up and curled in slightly, only her dark eyes peeking out.

Her expression shifted, becoming oddly complicated.

She loved imagining scenarios and adding drama in her head; she often enacted melodramatic scenes mentally.

But she wasn't stupid.

What scared her was that now, looking back, she began to notice things she’d previously ignored.

Her close friend had vaguely warned her before.

A woman who could sit where Ouyang Xianyue sat did everything with intent.

Many little details she had let pass suddenly seemed strung together by a single invisible thread.

The initial warmth.

The expensive antique gifts.

Those casual-seeming lines that always let people drop their guard.

And this Monaco trip.

She had really thought she’d simply been lucky, appreciated for her writing, and gifted a gorgeous "luxury yacht, Mediterranean, sweet romantic trip" side story.

But now...

Was that really all it was?

She stared at the ceiling with a cold feeling building in her chest.

From the start, Ouyang Xianyue had been consciously approaching her, soothing her, bringing her along, taking care of her.

Yesterday she had even blocked Anne Kate outside, clearly stating the sea trip would only be the three of them: Ouyang, Tang Song, and herself.

At the time, she’d been moved, thinking she’d finally returned to the main heroine track.

But from another angle,

this wealthy noblewoman wanted to go to sea with Little Song, wanting a cleaner, more private environment without outsiders.

And she...

had been brought along as a human shield, to deflect outsiders’ eyes.

Tang Song's girlfriend, suitably matched, a bit dim-witted... kind-hearted.

On the boat, she wouldn’t stand out, she wouldn’t interfere, yet she could naturally cover many things.

The darker the thought, the colder the back of her neck felt.

Four words slowly surfaced in her mind:

Too frightening!

No wonder she dreamed that dream last night.

Her subconscious had already sensed it.

This Monaco trip was never the cute "extra sweet romance" she had pictured.

She was the pitiful extra who’d stumbled into the script.

Thinking of the upcoming sea itinerary,

her little face fell.

First there was Anne Kate’s crazy, overwhelming energy,

and then Ouyang Xianyue’s line, suddenly sliding from "noble godmother/understanding sister" toward "dangerous noblewoman."

The dream images sprang back unbidden.

No way...

Would they really make her participate in some bizarre things once on the ship?

The thought made her jolt; she stuck her head out of the pillow and shook it frantically.

"Ugh ugh ugh! How could I think that of Sister Xianyue!"

After all, Ouyang Xianyue had been genuinely kind to her, affectionate like an older sister.

Such a person was gentle, dignified, measured; even her smile was textbook elegance.

She would never do something like that.

Those things were clearly the kinds of antics Anne Kate and Xiao Jing would pull!

Enough, don't think about it.

Instead of scaring herself to death with fantasies, she’d better get ready for the sea trip.

She truly looked forward to Tang Song’s private yacht.

Six hundred and fifty million dollars!

No matter what, she had to experience it firsthand!

Wash, skincare, blow-dry, makeup, change clothes...

After the whole routine, Xu Qing finally returned to the "delicate, adorable urban heroine" look.

She clicked into high heels and opened the bedroom door, following the scent to the dining room.

The long table was set with steaming breakfast.

Freshly baked croissants, homemade jam, savory butter, Greek yogurt...

Sunlight poured in and caught on the fine white porcelain with a gentle shine.

Xu Qing brightened and pulled out a chair.

She tore off a piece of croissant and popped it into her mouth—crispy on the outside, soft inside, butter melting on her tongue.

She sighed with satisfaction.

She felt alive again.

Stockings, noble ladies, big secrets—eat first, think later!

Halfway through breakfast,

the familiar sound of footsteps came from outside the dining room.

Xu Qing paused and looked up.

Tang Song walked in.

A light casual shirt with one button undone at the collar, sleeves half rolled, paired with neatly tailored dark trousers—he gave off that seaside-morning relaxed aura.

Stunningly handsome.

"Morning, little maid."

He pulled out a chair and sat opposite her, smiling.

Hearing that nickname made her ears burn.

The chaotic images from last night popped into her head and she quickly lowered it, eyes flickering.

"Good... morning..."

Tang Song raised an eyebrow. "Hm? You seem off today."

"O-off? What do you mean I'm off?" Xu Qing straightened reflexively, but her voice came out shaky.

"You didn't immediately tease me," Tang Song observed as he leisurely lifted his coffee cup, bemused. "That's unusual."

"I'm just in a good mood and don't want to pick a fight," Xu Qing tried to sound confident. "We're going on a trip today; I'm too lazy to quarrel."

"Is that so." Tang Song took a sip and asked lazily, "How did you sleep last night?"

"Great!" she answered reflexively. "Really great! Slept straight through—so refreshing!"

"Really?"

"Yup, yup, yup." She nodded and hungrily gobbled another bite to mask her own guilt.

Tang Song watched her and a faint smile tugged at his lips. "I thought you might have had another strange dream."

Xu Qing froze. "What... what strange dream?"

"Around three or four a.m., you suddenly shouted for help. Then you called for your mom, then your master."

"Cough, cough, cough—!"

She choked on her croissant, coughing violently until tears came to her eyes, her face bright red.

"You're lying! I didn't do that!"

"Did you not?" Tang Song propped his chin on one hand and studied her slowly. "Maybe I misheard."

Xu Qing hung her head in shame, feeling like her toes might dig through the floor. "Maybe I was plotting a new book scene and said some lines and you misheard!"

"Maybe." Tang Song pinched her cheek, stood up smiling. "Alright, finish eating. Pack after breakfast. We leave at ten. Don't bring too much—just a change of clothes and chargers; the rest is on the ship."

"Oh—"

Tang Song walked a couple steps then stopped as if remembering something.

"By the way, did you bring any cosplay outfits?"

Xu Qing blinked, then tensed.

"No! I'm traveling abroad, why would I bring that weird stuff! What are you thinking?"

"No problem." His tone was casual. "I stocked a few sets on my private jet for you, brought them here too. I'll bring them to you later."

"...?"

Xu Qing widened her eyes. "How do you even have that stuff?!"

"I took it from your friend; the size should be fine."

After saying this, Tang Song strode off.

Xu Qing angrily bit into her croissant, nearly puffing up like a pufferfish.

"That scheming Yuyan—selling out her friend for gain!"

Wait.

She remembered leaving a few cosplay sets with her friend... and one of them was probably a maid outfit?

Could it really have been brought along?

∑ (mouth-wide; )°

∑(mouth-wide; )°

Ten a.m.

The Maybach pulled away from the Paris Grand Hotel and drove toward the Port of Hercules.

Monaco that morning was clear and bright.

Sunlight hit the buildings and refracted into a clean, almost unreal glow.

The distant harbor looked like a blue sapphire,

sparkling and merging into the sky—so beautiful it held your gaze.

Xu Qing tried to remain calm, but as the sea drew closer her heart raced uncontrollably.

She bit her lip and quietly asked, "Tang Song, um... where's Sister Xianyue? I haven't seen her."

Feeling guilty, she hadn’t dared contact Ouyang Xianyue or Secretary Chen today.

When she left she didn’t see anyone. Now she couldn’t help asking.

Tang Song blinked. "Ms. Ouyang? She’s not coming with us."

"Huh?" Xu Qing froze. "What do you mean?"

"I mean she’s not going on the ship." Tang Song turned to her, speaking matter-of-factly. "She's busy with work and can't make it. This trip is just the two of us—basically a couple's honeymoon getaway."

Xu Qing went blank, mind empty, only slowly processing the news.

She’s not coming? Sister Xianyue not coming?!

That meant the dangerous noble-lady scenarios and wealthy household clashes she’d imagined wouldn’t happen at all?!

Fantastic! Amazing!

She nearly wanted to set off fireworks in the car, her little hips twisting with glee, the smile almost breaking through her face.

She forced a disappointed look and murmured, "Oh, that's a shame... I thought I could go out to sea with Sister Xianyue and learn from her."

Tang Song saw through her half-hearted act; a playful glint crossed his eyes.

With his perceptiveness, Xu Qing's small feelings were practically transparent.

He had long suspected she’d discovered his private relationship with Ouyang Xianyue.

Honestly, that was expected.

From the start he hadn’t planned to hide it forever.

Otherwise he wouldn’t have let her smell Ouyang's perfume on him that night.

If something is going to come out sooner or later, better to give her some psychological buffer before boarding.

Besides, once they were on the ship and the String Moon Drifting event officially began, what would happen next even he couldn’t predict.

Xu Qing had been brought along as a decoy.

A shield and a smokescreen.

With her there, many things would appear natural.

So she would know eventually.

...

The car drove along the harbor perimeter and entered a private passage.

Ordinary vehicles couldn't drive right up to the yacht's gangway, but with Tang Song's status they used an internal route.

The Maybach finally stopped by a closed VIP access near the berth.

Beyond lay the port area reserved for shipowners and core guests, heavily guarded, quiet and private.

A valet respectfully opened the door.

The sea breeze hit them, salty and gentle.

The harbor was calm and lavish, sunlight reflecting off the water in flowing sheets of gold.

Xu Qing hopped out with her small bag, trying to maintain her urban heroine poise.

But when she looked up and saw the white giant ship ahead,

she involuntarily held her breath.

Her jaw dropped.

Huge, pristine, luxurious, serene.

She craned her neck to follow the tiers of deck rising above.

Morning light washed across the smooth white hull.

High glass, metal, the infinity pool, helipad and decks shimmered quietly in the sun.

So clean it seemed unreal.

Like a white continent sliced from a dream and dropped into reality.

It carried an overwhelming, suffocating grandeur and beauty.

Both the sharp order of top-tier industrial craftsmanship and the romantic imagination unique to wealth and power.

This was... Little Song's $650 million private yacht?

More shocking, more dazzling, more exaggerated than the photos she’d seen online or the fantasies from novels.

She stood there dumbfounded, mouth slightly open, speechless for a long time.

She hardly had time to keep dazing.

A dark-uniformed chief steward and more than a dozen crew waited respectfully at the gangway, split into two lines.

"Welcome aboard, sir, madam."

Xu Qing’s head buzzed and she felt lightheaded.

She’d even forgotten to take the "must post this photo to my feed" note mentally.

She followed Tang Song onto the gangway without thinking.

She lightly softened her steps as she ascended.

Then her senses were overwhelmed by a cascade of details.

Underfoot, an ultra-soft, almost soundless carpet.

The air carried a faint blend of fresh flowers, sea salt, and an expensive fragrance.

Her view opened to an astonishingly transparent seascape, flawless white walls, metal lines refracting morning light, and staff who paused and quietly greeted Tang Song as he passed.

Not a hint of noise.

When Xu Qing finally regained a sliver of composure, she realized she’d already followed him through the main reception area and a long, quiet corridor.

Ahead was a semi-open small sea-view sitting room.

Compact, yet exceptionally quiet and private.

A curved wall of floor-to-ceiling glass offered a glittering view of the harbor outside.

At that moment,

a soft sound came from the other side of the sitting room.

She turned and froze.

Ouyang Xianyue was standing there.

She wore an extremely simple yet high-end light-colored suit, makeup immaculate, hair slightly pinned up.

Sunlight streamed in through the curved glass behind her, outlining her with a faint halo.

Lush, elegant, splendid.

There was even an indefinable hint of sultriness.

It felt strange.

Compared with yesterday and usual appearances, nothing obvious had changed,

yet she seemed different somehow.

Like a prized white blossom that had always been displayed properly, now tinged with a damp, dangerous color.

"You're here?"

Her voice was as gentle and composed as ever, with no hint of difference.

Xu Qing opened her mouth and managed to stammer out, "Xi... Sister Xianyue? I thought... you weren't coming?"

She glanced at Tang Song covertly.

He looked at the noble lady with undisguised admiration and warmth in his eyes.

"Some parts of my schedule are inconvenient to make public, and not suitable for many people to know about," Ouyang Xianyue said gently. "My sea trip needs to be kept confidential. Even on the ship, only a very few people know."

She paused and the light fell across Xu Qing’s face.

"Qingqing, you will keep this for us too, right?"

Xu Qing shivered and nodded frantically as if on autopilot.

"Yes, yes! I’ll keep it secret! I have the tightest lips! I swear!"

She nodded so quickly she nearly made herself dizzy.

Ouyang Xianyue found her reaction somewhat amusing.

She stepped forward and smoothed some stray hair from Xu Qing’s ear.

"Why so excited? This trip is mainly for me to relax and enjoy. Don't overthink it, just have fun."

"I— I will! I'm just so happy," Xu Qing's voice cracked.

Ouyang Xianyue looked at her and a slight curve lifted the corner of her lips.

That smile was gentle, appropriate, and flawless.

But to Xu Qing it inexplicably recalled the dream of the noble lady seated in the white judgment hall.

For a brief instant, the two images silently overlapped.