After Becoming Roommates with an Obnoxious Wealthy Heiress - Chapter 18

Don’t Drive Me Away

Qin Shuyue lowered her eyes, her expression returning to normal in an instant.

Eating spoiled food was nothing; back when she was starving with nothing to eat, she had survived on the slops left behind by others.

Yes, it was disgusting. Even she found herself disgusting. But she had to survive first before she could talk about living with dignity.

She opened the food container, picked up the chopsticks inside, and was about to eat with an indifferent expression. But a second before the food reached her mouth, Zhu Lingyi suddenly struck the chopsticks out of her hand.

With a sharp “snap,” the white porcelain chopsticks hit the ground, making two crisp sounds.

Qin Shuyue’s hand stung from the force of Zhu Lingyi’s strike. She silently withdrew her hand and placed it on her knees, keeping her head low in a posture of complete submission.

“Won’t you resist? Why do you do whatever I tell you to do? You’ll even eat spoiled food just because I let you?”

Seeing that Qin Shuyue still ignored her, a surge of nameless fire rushed to Zhu Lingyi’s heart. She wished she could grab the woman’s shoulder and shake her just to see if she was even listening. Instead, she frustratedly clawed at her own hair until it was a mess.

“Qin Shuyue, when did you become like this!”

Zhu Lingyi was rarely this exasperated. Even she didn’t know why she was so angry.

Qin Shuyue, on the other hand, was unsettled by the way Zhu Lingyi had come in demanding answers. But after Zhu Lingyi spoke those words, Qin Shuyue’s heart suddenly became exceptionally calm.

She had always been this kind of person—weak, incompetent, the kind of person a stray rat on the street could step on.

“I’m sorry.”

Qin Shuyue stood up calmly. The chair behind her let out a harsh creak, making Zhu Lingyi’s eyelid twitch involuntarily. She bowed solemnly to Zhu Lingyi. “I am sorry, Miss Zhu. I made things difficult for you that night. Please forgive me. Don’t drive me away.”

Zhu Lingyi had imagined ten thousand ways she might apologize, but she never expected the content to be this. Was she truly stupid or just acting?

It was infuriating. She wasn’t even angry because of that night. It felt like punching a soft persimmon, only for the persimmon to worriedly stroke her hand and ask if she was hurt.

A nameless fire burned in her chest, demanding release. But looking at Qin Shuyue’s innocent expression—standing there trembling like a small boat in a vast ocean, tossed about by violent waves and ready to be swallowed at any moment—Zhu Lingyi felt a sudden surge of irritation at herself.

Damn it! Am I really that scary?

She pressed a hand to her forehead and closed her eyes helplessly. “Now, get out of my sight… before I change my mind.”

She wanted to move past the incident, but her words always came out twisted and awkward, leading to Qin Shuyue’s misunderstanding.

Qin Shuyue naturally didn’t want to stay and annoy her further. Without a second thought, she turned and hurried upstairs, treading softly so as not to make a sound, and immediately shut herself in her room.

The moment the door closed and she realized the woman downstairs hadn’t pursued her, Qin Shuyue finally exhaled. The exhaustion of the past two sleepless days hit her like a tidal wave. She sank to the floor against the door, staring blankly at the window, her eyes filled with a weary, lifeless drain.

She looked down at her hands, turned pale from washing dishes. Something flickered in her eyes for a split second, unseen by anyone, before she let her arms drop limply to her sides.

The bruise on her arm began to itch, scratching at her heart. She sighed and rolled up the long sleeve covering her right arm.

Even in the sweltering heat of midsummer, she wore long sleeves, never switching to short sleeves even when drenched in sweat. Song Jiajia used to mock her for this. Once, to see what Qin Shuyue was hiding, Song Jiajia had ordered several girls to pin her down and strip the sleeves from her arms.

In that moment, Song Jiajia’s expression shifted from schadenfreude to something far more sinister—disgust, revulsion, arrogance, and contempt. She looked at Qin Shuyue as if she were a monster.

Then, covering her mouth with a mock expression of shock and pity, she pointed a finger at her and burst into laughter.

“Look at this, what a pitiful lapdog.”

“If you’re like this, why are you even still alive?”

Song Jiajia had leaned down condescendingly, lightly slapping Qin Shuyue’s face with a mocking smile. “Then just go die already.”

Those voices echoed through time, ringing so clearly in Qin Shuyue’s ears that she often woke up in the middle of the night. It felt as though she had never truly escaped Song Jiajia’s circle.

The cold moonlight seemed shrouded in a thin veil; when thin clouds hide the moon, even the brightest light grows dim. The room was unlit, dark and silent. The pale moonlight touched Qin Shuyue’s features, making her look calm and gentle—an illusion of tranquility.

But her injured arm, lying lifelessly by her side, and her dull, vacant eyes added a sense of deathliness to her peaceful face. She looked like a broken rag doll.

As the clouds shifted, the moonlight moved down to her arm. Beyond the bruise, the light revealed thick, dense scars covering her entire arm like ugly centipedes, stretching all the way to her wrist.

This was the real reason she refused to wear short sleeves.

New wounds were layered over old ones. Her arm was red and inflamed from the stifling heat, and several scabs were itching intensely. Yet, Qin Shuyue seemed accustomed to it. She no longer felt the pain. She sat paralyzed on the floor, staring blankly, unmoved.

The World of Zhu Lingyi

Zhu Lingyi always chose to bathe when she was frustrated. The rising steam wrapped around her body, and the flowing water seemed to soothe her mind. Once her emotions stabilized, she wrapped herself in a robe, went to the sofa, and began to read while handling company contracts and projects.

She never allowed herself to stay angry for more than a minute; if she did, she took a bath.

After finishing a video conference, another call came in. Hearing the voice on the other end, Zhu Lingyi didn’t want to hear excuses and cut her off.

“I don’t care what method you use; I only want results. If you can’t secure that plot of land, all of you can leave.”

Her tone was cold and unyielding. When it came to business, Zhu Lingyi was ruthless and decisive.

After a silence, the woman on the phone promised, “President Zhu, if I don’t get that land, I will submit my resignation myself before you even have to ask.”

Zhu Lingyi replied coldly, “If you get it, the positions of GM of the D-City branch and Vice President of Xingyu are yours. I will prepare two letters: one for a promotion and raise, and one for termination. Regardless of the outcome, you will receive one of them.”

“Yes, President Zhu. I won’t disappoint you.”

Zhu Lingyi hung up. At her level, it was move up or fall down. She only moved forward. She kept no useless people around her.

She set down her phone and focused on finishing the last page of Principles of Economics. After reading the final paragraph and the concluding mathematical formulas, she closed the book.

Her eyes were slightly sore. She rubbed them and walked toward the south side of the hallway, entering the second room on the left. The office inside was immaculate. She walked to the bookshelf and slotted the book perfectly into the “Economics” section.

She then turned to the “Management” section. Her profile was sharp, like a charcoal sketch—a high bridge of the nose and eyes that looked like eternal frost. Her bone structure gave her a noble air; she looked cold when silent, but her smile provided a warm, striking contrast. She was like a serious ragdoll cat.

Her study was filled with bookshelves. She had read many of the books multiple times, yet she still returned to them. She didn’t quite know why she loved reading so much; perhaps it was because someone once told her as a child, “Your mother truly read ten thousand volumes… why are you nothing like her?”

As she picked a new book, her phone screen lit up.

“President Zhu, the acquisition of Shanxing Company is successful. We can start the first batch of products.”

Zhu Lingyi replied with a simple “Mhm.” A moment later, another message popped up.

“President Zhu, we’ve finalized these magazine covers but can’t decide which one to use.”

Images of a woman with flaming red lips in various provocative poses filled the screen.

“She’s a rising star in the entertainment industry, her popularity is surging…”

Zhu Lingyi handled so much work every day; looking at these photos made her head ache.

“Let the designers decide. Don’t ask me about such trifles. If the data is bad, fix it yourselves. Ask me for resources, but give me results.”

Zhu Lingyi was there to manage, not to micromanage.

More messages flooded in. An old business partner thanked her for a previous favor and invited her to dinner. She wasn’t a philanthropist; she was a merchant who prioritized profit. This “favor” involved a group of college students whose design firm was failing due to a lack of capital. Zhu Lingyi had seen their potential, provided the startup funds, and integrated them into a complete production line under her subsidiary. It was a strategic move to win their total loyalty.

She typed out a reply: “Fine. Send me the time and location. I’ll arrange my schedule.”

January 9th, 6:00 PM, Yuxing KTV, Room 1201.

The reply came instantly. They knew Zhu Lingyi hated procrastination.

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