Wang Qi didn’t take the bait.
For Zhang Yemiao, a deeply troubling realization had taken root: her feelings toward Wang Qi might be… off.
Especially after what happened a few days ago. Now, whenever their eyes met, panic would seize her—a strange mix of wanting to hide yet secretly hoping he’d look longer.
So she’d tested him. Just a little.
*Why was I so smooth lifting my skirt just now?* The thought made her cringe. She’d actually planned to hike it all the way up if he didn’t hand over the item, just to see how long he’d endure it.
A traitorous whisper flickered in her mind: *Even if he couldn’t resist… being pushed down by Wang Qi wouldn’t be so bad.*
*Am I broken?* she wondered. *Hormones? No—I’m not that shallow.* Though… hadn’t that philosopher Marx written about matter shaping consciousness? Maybe her physical changes *were* warping her thoughts.
But that was only half the problem. The real issue? Wang Qi had backed down.
It made no sense.
Zhang Yemiao remembered clearly: back on the grasslands, when Zou Moan tried luring Wang Qi with her bare thigh, he’d grabbed it without hesitation. Bold Zou Moan had been so startled she’d stopped teasing him, terrified he might actually push her down.
So why was he holding back *now*?
He’d been so… eager that night when she’d helped him. Just recalling it made her cheeks burn. *What was I thinking, making that choice?*
Regardless of that night—he shouldn’t have just handed her the item so obediently. At the very least, he should’ve pinned her against a wall, crushed her resistance, shattered her pride, and forced her surrender. *That’s* what Wang Qi would do.
And he’d seen Li Pingtian… A jolt of unease shot through Zhang Yemiao. Wang Qi and Li Pingtian were inseparable—always duo queuing for ranked matches.
She was just a lowly jungle support.
*What if they did something in the city?* Li Pingtian was unpredictable… Zhang Yemiao’s imagination spiraled:
*Inside the hallowed church, a silver-haired maiden in pure white nun’s robes finished her prayers. As the last worshipper left, a man stepped from behind the altar.*
*Li Pingtian turned to Wang Qi, serene yet commanding: “Since becoming a woman, I’ve yet to fully explore this body’s secrets. Help me uncover them.”*
*Wang Qi’s grin turned wicked as he began his “exploration.” The ever-composed maiden’s cheeks flushed crimson, her mind drowning in shame and forbidden thrill—*
*STOP!*
*No more fantasies!* Zhang Yemiao slammed mental brakes. *I’m losing it. Acting like an NPC with corrupted code.*
*It’s that bead’s fault.*
Ever since the blood-red bead absorbed her energy once, her thoughts had twisted. *Did it suck out my virtue? Is that why I’m like this now?*
She flopped onto her bed, rolling until her head thudded against the wall.
Minutes later, she sat up, clarity striking.
*Why overcomplicate it? I like Wang Qi. That’s it.*
As roommates for four years, their baseline goodwill was at least 30 or 40—solid friends, maybe even bros.
Then, stranded in this world, clinging to each other as burdens… that closeness added another 10 points. Especially after those… intimate moments. (Wang Qi didn’t know, but Zhang Yemiao felt it.)
Waking to find him caring for her after she’d nearly died? *Thirty points, easy. Twenty at minimum.*
And that promise they’d made? *Ten more points. No argument.*
Seventy, eighty points total… *Wasn’t that called “liking” someone?*
She’d been unconsciously route-locked. If this were a galgame, Wang Qi could’ve already triggered the lewd CGs to max her affection.
*No wonder I don’t mind… those things with him.*
*Galgame logic never lies.*
So she was a pervert. Accepting that, the choice was simple: walk away from Wang Qi? Impossible—not as a Level 2 cripple.
Stay and pretend nothing happened? Wang Qi’s retreat today suggested he wanted exactly that.
Or… get closer?
*Who cares if strangers judge?* Only Li Pingtian, Zou Moan, and Wang Qi knew her past. To outsiders, a couple was just a couple. And since they’d split from the others… *If we “accidentally” reunited…*
The real question: *What does Wang Qi want?*
*Do I… confess?*
*No—first-mover disadvantage in romance is real.*
Only one option left: grind his affection points.
Zhang Yemiao glanced at her body, then studied her reflection.
*Ah. Simple.*
*Just keep serving fan service.*
*He’ll crack eventually.*
*Once he cooks the rice, I’ll hold all the cards. A little manipulation… and Wang Qi becomes my loyal dog.*
*Purified into “Wang the Simp.”*
*Nice.*
She’d forgotten her original dilemma entirely, already drafting her next move.
---
Over the next days, Wang Qi and Zhang Yemiao forged iron together. Finally, a lump of metal transformed into a proper hoe.
“Perfect!” Zhang Yemiao nodded, satisfied. “This’ll sell. I checked the city merchants—their stock’s no better.”
Her XP bar confirmed it. Earlier failed attempts hadn’t granted a single point, frustrating her. *Making a slingshot gave XP easily. Why’s blacksmithing so strict?*
Their eyes met. Zhang Yemiao’s gaze burned; Wang Qi looked away. “I’ll check the fields,” he muttered. “Pests might be lurking.”
He fled.
Zhang Yemiao’s lips curled. “Hmph~ Not long now.” She looked utterly pleased.
---
In the fields, Wang Qi breathed in the earthy scent of soil and crops, calming his racing thoughts. Zhang Yemiao was acting suspicious. *Way too careless.*
Sure, they’d shared a dorm—but would anyone strip naked in front of a roommate? *Obviously not.*
Not that she’d done *that*… but the “coincidences” piled up.
Like that morning he’d entered her room to wake her—only to find her completely bare, blankets kicked aside. He’d nearly lost control right there. *But crossing that line would’ve gutted my conscience.*
Or during blacksmithing: she’d “accidentally” flash skin while fanning herself, complaining, “So hot!” *Seriously?*
When he’d scolded her, she’d smirked: “You wouldn’t *actually* have weird thoughts about your Dorm Leader, would you? Do something like that, and I’ll expose your beastly behavior to the others. Publicly.”
*That Dorm Leader… so treacherous!*
Wang Qi finally saw her scheme. Humiliated by past losses, she couldn’t overpower him physically—so she’d weaponize temptation. Lure him into a mistake he’d never dare escalate, then seize total control of their household. His dignity would vanish.
*This ends now.* He’d reclaim his manhood. Make his Dorm Leader cry “Daddy.”
As he inspected the crops, a voice hissed in his ear: “You’re an idiot.”
Wang Qi whirled—no Zhang Yemiao. He pulled out a blood-red bead. “I said: no talking without permission.”
“But you must feed me,” the bead whispered. “Or my life force fades.”
Wang Qi’s voice turned icy—a tone Zhang Yemiao had never heard. “Remember your place. I keep you only to uncover certain truths. Cross me, and I’ll seal you in a molten iron sphere. Bury you deep. Even if you sleep for centuries, you’ll die. Obey, or perish.”
“…You’re so sharp when speaking to me.” Silence followed.
Wang Qi pocketed the bead, scratching his head. *Aren’t I always this sharp?*
