A Sweet Soft Alpha and a Psycho-Beauty Go Viral Online - Chapter 15

After arriving at the 10th-level escape room, Qiao Sanghe and Yu Wanyin received a new script from the staff. This level’s theme was based on a Chinese supernatural tale titled “The Ghost Bride.”

The backstory went like this: A noblewoman from ancient times tragically died on her wedding day. Her spirit, consumed by resentment, turned into a vengeful ghost sealed away in a tomb steeped in dark energy.

Hundreds of years later, a young archaeologist arrives to excavate the site, unknowingly becoming entangled in a series of strange and terrifying events involving the ghost.

The staff handed them each a character card for this scenario.

Qiao Sanghe would play the role of the ghost bride—the noblewoman who died full of grief and hatred centuries ago.

Yu Wanyin was cast as the archaeologist haunted by the ghost. In this escape mission, Qiao Sanghe would be “trapped” in the tomb (escape room), and Yu Wanyin had to solve all the puzzles to rescue her. Once the mission was completed, they could both exit the 10th level.

After reading the story’s background, both of them found it more immersive and intriguing than the previous two levels. Even the character cards were rich in detail, making it easy to step into their roles and emotionally connect to the scenario.

As they were still studying the story, the production crew brought in a prop that immediately raised red flags for both of them: a pair of locking wristbands that required password input to unlock.

These were A-B model wristbands. Only the B wristband restricted movement. The A wristband wearer had full freedom. To unlock the B wristband, the A wristband wearer would need to input an 8-digit password—each digit revealed only after solving a puzzle. In other words, the freedom of the B wearer depended entirely on the A wearer.

This round would test not only puzzle-solving but also emotional cooperation—one person had to work to free the other.

Yu Wanyin received the A wristband, and Qiao Sanghe was given the B wristband—meaning Qiao was now the one restricted. Only when Yu Wanyin completed all eight puzzles could Qiao be freed.

The game also included a costume change: Qiao Sanghe would don a traditional red bridal gown. With help from her makeup artist and stylist, she transformed into a stunning ancient bride.

When she emerged, Yu Wanyin couldn’t take her eyes off her.

Qiao was breathtaking.

Clad in vivid scarlet, she looked like she had stepped straight out of a classical painting. Her naturally striking features were enhanced by red lipstick that made her porcelain skin glow. Her eyes were long and narrow, their corners accented with seductive eyeliner—an ethereal, dangerous beauty.

She looked exactly like the devastatingly beautiful ghost bride described in the script. Her stunning appearance was beyond words, and her cool, detached aura only added to her mysterious charm.

Yu Wanyin stood frozen for a moment before snapping out of it and rushing to her side.

“You’re… really beautiful.”

Qiao glanced down at her costume with mild dissatisfaction.

“It’s beautiful, yes—but so heavy. I’m going to have to wear this for a long time. It won’t be easy.”

Yu Wanyin could tell at a glance that the gown, though ornate, was oppressively heavy. The elaborate accessories—headdress, necklace, earrings—easily weighed dozens of pounds. And all that burden was on Qiao’s slender frame.

Without thinking, Yu Wanyin stepped forward and scooped her up into her arms, testing the added weight of the costume.

She had carried Qiao before, and it had been effortless. But this time, the weight was significantly greater—still manageable, but noticeably heavier.

Qiao gasped slightly at the sudden lift, her heart skipping a beat.

“W-why did you suddenly pick me up?”

Yu Wanyin replied calmly,

“I needed to feel how heavy this costume actually is. It’s no joke. Lean on me—I’ll carry the weight for you.”

She realized that unless she experienced it herself, she couldn’t truly understand how difficult it was for Qiao to wear the gown. Carrying her like this made it clear just how uncomfortable it must be.

Qiao didn’t hesitate to lean against her. The moment she did, her whole body relaxed.

The production team really knew how to torture their guests. The costume might look good on camera, but it was exhausting to wear. Now that she was leaning on Yu Wanyin, she had no intention of getting up again anytime soon.

Yu Wanyin’s build was strong yet elegant, her tall frame and toned muscles exuding quiet strength. Her scent—an aromatic hint of orange blossom—was clean and comforting.

“This was a good idea. I approve.”

Even with the weight of the costume, leaning against Yu Wanyin made things feel bearable.

Yu Wanyin smiled softly. Making Qiao Sanghe happy was more than enough for her.

The first puzzle the crew presented was a jigsaw challenge.

Only Yu Wanyin was allowed to assemble it, and she had to do so blindfolded. Qiao couldn’t touch the pieces but could offer verbal hints from a close distance.

“You have one minute to memorize the complete image before your eyes are covered,” the crew instructed.

The puzzle image was an intricate painting of an ancient noblewoman. It had over 100 wooden pieces, each etched with delicate carvings that could be identified by touch—but solving it blind was still a formidable task.

Compared to previous puzzles, this one was easily the hardest.

Even the livestream viewers felt the tension:
【Can they even do this?】

【This is way too hard.】

【Only works if they have really good chemistry.】

【If anyone can pull it off, it’s them.】

【They’re mysterious but oddly in sync. It’s comforting.】

After Yu Wanyin memorized the image and was blindfolded, everything went pitch black. It was worse than the other levels—even darker than the dance hall stage from before. There, at least, faint outlines were visible. Here, it was absolute blindness.

Qiao waved a slender hand in front of her eyes—nothing. She really couldn’t see.

The puzzle-solving all fell on Yu Wanyin. Qiao could only offer vocal guidance and couldn’t move more than a meter due to the wristband.

Yu Wanyin blindly reached out and found Qiao’s hand, squeezing it gently. Her fingers were soft and cool, and the contact grounded her.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got this. We’ll make a great team.”

Qiao returned the squeeze with a small smile. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

Yu Wanyin’s memory wasn’t bad, but no one could memorize 100+ pieces in just a minute. And the puzzle pieces, while beautifully made, were small and hard to manipulate by touch.

She managed to place a few based on vague memory, but mistakes quickly piled up.

Qiao saw one of the pieces being placed incorrectly. She wanted to help but was bound by the wristband’s distance limit. Yu Wanyin was about two to three meters away.

So Qiao moved to the very edge of her tether, as close as possible. She needed Yu Wanyin to come toward her so she could offer tips.

Though blindfolded, Yu Wanyin’s hearing had become incredibly sharp. She clearly heard Qiao moving toward her and turned, reaching out tentatively—

Her arms landed around something soft and warm.

“Qiao… what’s wrong?”

A sweet scent flooded her senses, and a cool, gentle voice whispered at her ear:

“You misplaced the third piece—it belongs on the shoulder.

Piece six should go in the hair.

Piece seven is just slightly off—move it one block to the right.

Be sure to confirm before placing.”

“Got it,” Yu Wanyin replied.

With Qiao’s help, her speed improved dramatically.

She stopped placing pieces unless Qiao confirmed the position, and began turning around frequently to ask her for direction.

But during one such moment, Yu Wanyin reached out blindly again—this time, her hand landed somewhere particularly… soft.

Qiao flinched and quickly shifted position, a soft flush rising in her cheeks.

Now half-leaning into Yu Wanyin’s embrace, she whispered near her ear, a breathy, slightly indignant murmur:

“Do you even know where you just touched?