I used every bit of my hypothetical deduction skills and pulled off this reversal therapy. I leveraged Jiang Muqing’s ignorance of law and some priming and thought control. I cleanly led her out of the dead-end thoughts I’d steered her into.

She wanted to use sex to prove I liked her. I saw through that ages ago.

As long as I exaggerated the simulated scary consequences of having sex and spooked her, the problem wasn’t big.

The simulation sealed off the path where a girl uses sex to prove love.

It looks like this sudden emergency treatment worked. But it hurts: from how she acted, she no longer believes I like her.

Getting her to believe I like her is the base for stabilizing her mood, and the core of conservative yandere treatment.

...

We sat side by side on the bed in silence. She kept glancing up at me. When she saw my grim face, she lowered her head, a little lost.

“Fan, my head’s a mess.”

Her voice was hollow, unusually weak.

“What’s wrong?”

I asked uneasily.

What stunt is she cooking up now?! What will it take for her to just go to sleep?

“I’m scared. I want to trust Fan, but my feelings poke me again and again. They tell me Fan is lying to me.”

She hitched up her slipping towel a little and kept her head down, heavy.

“Your feelings?”

Women’s intuition is terrifying.

Yeah. I really am lying to her.

“Fan says he likes me and admits we’re dating, but I can’t feel any of it. My heart feels empty. I can’t sleep every night.”

She lifted her head, looking at me, aggrieved.

“I thought if I gave Fan my first time, I’d leave an indelible mark. Fan would take responsibility because he got my first time. But the consequences are too scary…”

She spoke, dazed.

Naïve.

Way too naïve.

In a fast modern society, morals are loose. What guy cares about ‘first times’? Most wives aren’t virgins. And if they are, there’s a chance it was restored later.

Women who try to trap a man with their first time are foolish.

Do girls care about a boy’s first time? Even less. A boy’s ‘first time’ usually went to his left or right hand.

At least she now knows the serious fallout. If she listens to me, she’ll become a normal, good girl.

“It’s so messy. What should I do? I can’t put my mind at ease about Fan. I’m scared Fan doesn’t like me. I’m scared he’ll leave me one day.” She got more and more worked up, clutching her head with both hands, looking in pain. Her eyes even reddened.

“I really do like you! What do you need me to do for you to believe it?”

I held her shoulders, turned her to face me, and tried to look at her as gently as I could.

But my gentleness didn’t help. She still looked extremely uneasy.

I have no way. I’m already trying hard to look like I like her, yet she keeps seeing through me.

“That… that feeling. When Fan kissed me last time. That indescribable feeling.”

She looked at me, very serious.

“Last time…”

I thought back a little.

...

Last time, the kiss…

I think I steeled myself, gulped orange juice, then forced a kiss on Jiang Muqing when her mind was on the brink.

Her lips were moist and soft, and grew hotter with the kiss. I was physically excited, yeah, but inside I was calm.

Until her tears fell onto my face.

The memories carried by those tears suddenly stabbed into my head. I couldn’t keep kissing.

My heart pounded hard. My chest hurt faintly. I could barely breathe.

So… is that the love she wants?

...

Jiang Muqing saw I wasn’t answering. She bit her lip, just a little, then leaned in, cautious.

“Can you hug me tight first?”

She stared up at me.

“If we do this, what will happen? Didn’t I make it clear?”

You do know you’re still naked under that thin towel, right?! Idiot!

“I know. If we do it, Fan will die, I’ll die, and our child will suffer misfortune. Believe me. I want to live happily with Fan for a lifetime. I won’t let that happen.”

Her tone was very sincere.

“Then… alright.”

I stiffly wrapped my arms around her, gently.

She wore only a towel and threw herself against my chest. Because it was thin, the almost direct contact cranked up my pressure.

She didn’t seem to mind. Her face looked calm.

“Do you like me?”

She asked that same question for who knows the how-manyth time.

“I do.”

I answered on reflex.

“Am I pretty?”

She stared into my eyes.

“Very pretty. Any guy who sees you would be moved.”

That part was true.

I still remember Guo Tong slobbering during that speech. And he wasn’t the only guy drooling after.

“I don’t care who gets moved. I only need Fan to be moved.”

Her cheek pressed to my chest, tighter and tighter.

“How could I not be?”

I held her, awkward.

“Then compared to Xiao Xue, who moves Fan more?”

Her lips opened and closed. She said the one thing she shouldn’t.

“…”

Words stuck in my throat.

Then my heart raced. My whole body shook. Something clogged my throat. I couldn’t speak.

They aren’t even comparable!

Why bring her up again? Even Mom doesn’t dare mention Xiao Xue in front of me.

“Don’t bring her up! I’m begging you, okay? Didn’t you hear me?!”

I planted both hands on Jiang Muqing’s shoulders and shook her hard.

I forgot I shouldn’t be harsh with her. Doing this, her emotions would spike in unimaginable ways.

She made no sound. She let me shake her. Her body went rigid, head tilting back, eyes a little blank.

“I get this feeling now…”

Suddenly, she pushed me away.

“So that look Fan had back then wasn’t for me at all, but…”

“Fan’s heart is haunted!”

She brushed my hands off, coldly, left my room, and went to Dad’s study.

The door slammed. Then the lock turned.

“Aaah!”

Soon, her terrifying sob-scream came from inside.

I clamped my ears with my hands in my own room, trying not to listen. But just pressing my ears did nothing; I could still hear it.

This girl is so annoying!

I rolled on the bed, scratched my head. Her heaving cries kept me from settling down.

Why? Does she care that much? I admitted I like her. Isn’t that enough?

To feel better, I closed my door. But the plastic door barely blocked sound.

I pulled the blanket over my head.

Besides heat and darkness, I could still hear her crying.

I tossed and turned, couldn’t settle no matter what. After a while, I heard someone knocking at the front door.

Must be Mom back. Pretty late.

Jiang Muqing had locked herself in and had zero intention of opening up. I dragged my tired body and went to open the door.

Mom rushed in, road-worn, and immediately heard Jiang Muqing crying her lungs out in the room.

“Did you bully my little Qing?”

She demanded.

“No.”

I snapped back.

“You little punk, go apologize! Now!”

Mom tried the study door. It was definitely locked from inside.