Chapter 50.2

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Honestly, Ji Yun wasn’t. Not even a little. But for the sake of conversation, she humored her. “Alright, where are you hiding?”

“You know how she loves playing mind games with me? Well, I played one right back at her! But listen, you cannot rat me out.”

Ji Yun sighed. “…Wouldn’t dare. I fear you more than I fear her at this point.”

Deciding to trust her one last time, Qiao Ziman lowered her voice. “The most dangerous place is actually the safest, right? She’d never expect that I didn’t actually leave. I’m still inside—I’m hiding in the wardrobe. Genius, huh?”

Ji Yun: “…” How old are you again?

“Yeah, uh… definitely unexpected. But, Qiao Qiao, have you considered something?”

“What?”

Ji Yun sighed. “What if Boss Chi doesn’t leave the room? Are you planning to hide there forever? Other people might go for a ‘hurt the enemy a thousand, suffer eight hundred’ strategy… but you? You’re going straight for ‘die in front of her’ mode.”

Qiao Ziman: “…”

She perked her ears up, listening carefully. From the kitchen, the sound of a knife rhythmically hitting the cutting board echoed through the apartment. It seemed like Chi Yin had no intention of leaving anytime soon.

Right on cue, her stomach let out a loud grumble.

…Maybe Ji Yun had a point. Dragging this out forever wasn’t exactly a winning strategy.

As Qiao Ziman racked her brain for a new plan, Ji Yun finally lost her patience.

“Listen, we’re all adults here. Just be honest—are you making all this fuss because you want to flip the script? If that’s the case, why not ask me? Maybe I can help.”

Qiao Ziman’s face instantly heated up.

“Nonsense!” she blurted, utterly denying it. Sure, getting back at Chi Yin was one reason, but not the whole picture!

After a moment of hesitation, she muttered, “But… I do have a question.”

Ji Yun bit back a laugh, waiting for her to continue.

Qiao Ziman cleared her throat awkwardly. “I have this… friend.”

Ji Yun: “…” Oh, here we go.

“This friend’s girlfriend is acting a little weird.”

Ji Yun: “… How so?”

“Well…” Qiao Ziman stumbled over her words. “She thinks her girlfriend has no desire.”

She quickly added, “Not that she’s not attracted to—uh, I mean—not that she’s not attracted to my friend, but that she just doesn’t seem to have any, you know, needs herself. You get what I’m saying?”

Ji Yun let out a knowing ohhh. “So, you’re saying Boss Chi has no biological urges?”

Qiao Ziman’s voice shot up. “Who said anything about Boss Chi?!”

In her panic, she smacked her head against the top of the wardrobe.

Groaning, she clutched her head and gritted her teeth. “I’m talking about my friend’s girlfriend!”

“Alright, alright, give me a sec,” Ji Yun said, setting her phone down. She ran to the office door, laughed uncontrollably for a full five minutes, then came back as if nothing had happened. “Okay, my bad. Go on.”

“So basically, her body doesn’t react. She only takes the lead but never actually wants anything herself,” Qiao Ziman explained.

Ji Yun raised an eyebrow. “Have you—uh, I mean, has your friend ever tried switching things up?”

“Of course! Brought it up, even tried making a move once.” Qiao Ziman rolled her eyes. “Do you think I’d be asking if I hadn’t tried?”

Ji Yun: “…”

Qiao Ziman voiced her suspicions. “I looked it up online. Some people just like being in control but don’t like being touched. What’s that called? ‘Iron T’? Or—” She cleared her throat awkwardly. “Or do you think my friend’s girlfriend might have some kind of past trauma? Like PTSD or something?”

Ji Yun: “…”

So, Qiao Qiao had considered every possible explanation… except the possibility that her skills were just bad.

“Maybe you should, I don’t know, watch some videos? Learn a thing or two?”

Qiao Ziman scoffed. “Please. I might not have eaten pork, but I’ve seen plenty of pigs run.”

Just then, she heard footsteps approaching. Panic flashed across her face. “Not talking about this anymore, hanging up.”

She ended the call and held her breath. Chi Yin entered the room, grabbed a change of clothes, and left just as quickly. The front door creaked open, and at the same time, her phone vibrated with a new message.

[I made your favorite dishes. They’re on the table. Come home early.]

[I’m heading out now to meet a business partner. Might have a few drinks. I’ll be back before nine.]

Drinks!!!

Just seeing those two words sent a shiver down Qiao Ziman’s spine.

No way in hell was she staying in this house any longer!

She scrambled out of the wardrobe, grabbed her notebook from the drawer, and clutched it tightly to her chest as she made her way toward the door. But the moment she passed by the dining table, the rich aroma of freshly cooked food drifted into her nose.

Her legs betrayed her. Before she knew it, she had plopped down into a chair.

Well… Yin Yin’s not home anyway.

No point in being mad at herself and her stomach.

With zero hesitation, she picked up her bowl and dug in, devouring the meal with enthusiasm. As she ate, she messaged Ji Yun.

[Little traitor, I’m giving you three extremely important tasks to make up for your betrayal.]

Ji Yun: [???]

Qiao Ziman smirked and continued typing.

[1. Explain to Yin Yin that I am not trying to break up with her. Use your own words, but make sure you guide her in the right direction. You know what I mean. (evil grin.jpg)]

Then, she quickly switched to her online shopping app, purchased an identical safe, and returned to the chat. 

She had plans.

[2. My finger condoms have arrived. Tell Yin Yin to pick them up and then put the box under my bed into my safe—make sure she knows it’s mine.]

Qiao Ziman had full confidence that someone as smart as Chi Yin would pick up on the meaning behind that little instruction.

[3. Keep tabs on Yin Yin’s movements at all times. If anything happens, I want to know immediately.]

Ji Yun responded with a long string of ellipses.

[When will you two finally stop dragging me into your play?]

Qiao Ziman sent a voice message, her tone sweet and mischievous. “Muah~ Mission: Impossible.”

Ji Yun: [(smile.jpg) I feel like I’m a damn sandwich in all this.]

With her tasks delegated, Qiao Ziman locked her phone. She flipped open her notebook, grabbed a pen, and carefully wrote down her battle declaration in bold, determined strokes:

I want Yin Yin to cry! I want her to beg for mercy!! Absolutely!!!

Snapping the notebook shut, she grinned like a villain foreseeing their inevitable victory.

Then, moving with the stealth of a seasoned spy, she snuck into Chi Yin’s bedroom, grabbed a large, overstuffed suitcase, and bolted out the door—heading straight for her mother’s house.