After Marrying the Villain with Seven Personalities [Transmigration into a Book]) - Chapter 42

How embarrassing…

Xu Linqiu lowered her head, letting the night veil the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she softly replied, “Mm.”

Her bashful act was so convincing that even Shi Ji couldn’t bear to watch any longer. “Alright, alright, you two. Hurry up and pitch the tent. I’ll help. I’m exhausted; let’s finish up so we can sleep.”

Thus, the five of them followed Yi Chenlan’s lead. Clad in her dark suit, her movements were crisp and professional. she organized the tasks with military precision, assigning roles to everyone. Xu Linqiu finally saw the serious, no-nonsense side of her work persona—it was undeniably attractive.

As the night deepened, the dark clouds drifted away, revealing a bright, full moon. On this hot spring island, stars appeared in clusters that were never visible in the city, dotting the night sky with mesmerizing brilliance. Under this canopy, beams of light from flashlights crisscrossed the grass. Aside from a lone cameraman and the director, the rest of the staff had moved off to pitch their own tents.

A cool breeze swept across the lawn, carrying the moist freshness of the nearby river. Even though it was pitch black and faces were barely visible in the livestream, a few stray sentences drifted through the audio.

“Here?” “Yes, prop up the support frame there.”

The comment section grew increasingly lively:

[User]: Little CEO Shi! Get it together! Look how proactive the others are.

[User]: I came for the hype of a new variety show, but I ended up watching a dating show. Humans really are suckers for beauty; when we see pretty sisters, we just want to ship them.

[User]: This show is so slow-paced, but the guests are so captivating. I can’t help wanting to know what happens next.

With an expert leading them, the three double tents were soon completed, lined up closely on the grass. Realizing they had forgotten to brush their teeth, Xu Linqiu negotiated with the director, successfully “borrowing” six disposable kits at the cost of three game cards.

After brushing, Xu was the first to kick off her shoes and crawl into the leftmost tent. She pulled clean clothes for herself and Yi Chenlan (whom she still addressed as ‘Qingqing’ in her head) out of her suitcase, intending to use them as extra blankets against the night chill.

Yi Chenlan watched her silently. Once Xu had retracted into the tent, leaving space at the entrance, the woman slowly removed her shoes and crawled in as well.

The remaining four stood outside in a brief, awkward silence until Xu Linqiu poked her head back out, smiling. “Just group yourselves however you like. Get some rest. Once we find more cards tomorrow, we can trade for better supplies.”

Though she said “however you like,” Xu Judong was determined not to repeat the hot spring incident. She knew Shi Ji and Yi Yanbai were married and wanted nothing more than for them to get along. Consequently, she tried to dive into the middle tent to be closer to her sister, only to be beaten to it by a surprisingly fast Shi Ji. Judong had no choice but to enter the rightmost tent.

Only two were left. Seeing Yu Shu naturally follow Judong into the rightmost tent, Yi Yanbai finally stepped into the middle one with Shi Ji.

The livestream viewers, sharp-eyed as ever, had already guessed the groupings based on silhouettes and clothing. Suddenly, the screen went black, replaced by a caption: See you at 8:00 AM tomorrow, or earlier. Be there or be square.

[User]: LMAO, the schedule is so random.

[User]: I really want to see what they’re doing in the tents. Will the romance heat up?

The second Shi Ji entered the tent, she regretted it. She should have let Xu Judong and Yu Shu have this one. If Xu Linqiu did “something” tonight and they heard it, maybe they’d finally give up. This whole “real and fake heiress” mess was like a ticking time bomb.

She was wallowing in frustration when Yi Yanbai silently lay down, fully clothed, with her back turned to her. Though it was a double tent, it could fit three. Shi Ji stared at the woman’s back, grew even angrier, and lay down facing the opposite direction.

In the leftmost tent, Xu Linqiu was suffering under Yi Chenlan’s silent, heavy gaze. That stare—cold and tinged with a dark, brooding intensity—made her extremely uncomfortable.

She picked up her long-sleeved shirt and offered it. “Go ahead and tie me up. I keep my promises. We don’t have rope, so we’ll have to use this.” She added in a whisper, “And keep your voice down. The tents are too close; any loud noise will be heard.”

“I moved the tents close on purpose,” Yi Chenlan said bluntly. She sat over and used the shirt to tie Xu’s hands together, then used her own dress shirt to bind Xu’s feet. She tied them tightly, her eyes devoid of emotion throughout the process.

When she finished, Xu Linqiu looked at her with confusion. “Why?”

“Because I want them all to hear your humiliated cries. I want you to taste the flavor of being violated.”

She pinned Xu down directly. The flashlight lay in the corner, its solitary beam casting a harsh glow inside the small space.

Xu Linqiu stared at her for a long moment, then curled her lips into a smile, masking the sudden bitterness flooding her heart. “But I think, deep down, you’re willing. You enjoy it too, don’t you? How can that be called violation?…”

“No. I find it disgusting.”

Those words sent a shock through Xu Linqiu’s entire body. She looked at the woman in disbelief, met with an icy, unmoving gaze. For the first time, she felt utterly powerless, as if she were being drowned by a tidal wave of sorrow until she couldn’t breathe.

“Qingqing… that’s too much,” she whispered hoarsely after several seconds.

Yi Chenlan remained unmoved, a mocking smile touching her lips. “I am not her. I think the one you like is only ‘Yi Chenqing.’ But clearly, once I merge them or drive them out, ‘she’ will loathe you just as much as I do.”

She placed her hand on Xu’s waistband and continued, “You should remember your place. You are just a substitute. Stop overstepping your bounds and making me loathe you more.”

As her clothes were pushed down to her knees, the woman leaned in cruelly. Xu Linqiu’s mind was in chaos, gripped by the words “disgusting” and “loathe you.” She stared blankly, her eyes growing hot and stinging. She gritted her teeth, her voice trembling with a hint of humbleness: “Can we… can we kiss for a while first?”

“No. You don’t deserve it.”

That cold voice was the final blow to Xu Linqiu’s defenses. A thread of sharp pain pierced her heart, leaving her suffocating and parched.

Does this personality represent her true, subconscious thoughts? As long as it’s not the person she loves, she’ll be cold-hearted and find it ‘disgusting’? Once she recovers her memory, will she feel disgusted because she mistook me for her lover and slept with me so many times?

Yi Chenlan was retaliating with a vengeance, desperately denying her own momentary softening and the heart-flutter she felt under Xu’s touch in the hot spring. She was hardening her resolve—her heart belonged only to that one deep love.

But the woman beneath her was too dry, too unresponsive, which sparked a surge of irritation and restlessness in Yi Chenlan. That was until she looked up and saw Xu Linqiu’s eyes brimming with tears—vibrant, red-rimmed, and seemingly endless. A trace of blood was visible between her tightly pressed lips.

Xu’s gaze was one of total devastation and surrender. Then, she suddenly smiled through the falling tears. “Don’t worry. I won’t pester you anymore whenever you appear.”

“I will leave.”

“I will leave.”

Those words were like an explosion in Yi Chenlan’s brain. The face of the woman before her suddenly overlapped with the girl in her memories. She was crying—crying with despair—yet her lips were curved in a smile as she said: “Let’s break up.” “I will leave.”

Yi Chenlan froze. In that instant, every memory of that girl, every detail of that face, became vividly clear. The crescent-shaped smiling eyes, the mole on the tip of her nose… and how she looked when she cried, utterly disappointed.

It was her. It was her all along. How could she have been so stupid? This was something all the other personalities had already recognized. And yet, she had just treated her like that—so brutally and cruelly.

How do I fix this?…

Yi Chenlan reached out a hand, wanting to touch her face, but Xu turned her head away with heartbreaking decisiveness. A sharp pain gripped Yi Chenlan’s heart. She clutched her chest, her vision blurring, but she struggled to stay. Finally, she lost consciousness.

The woman collapsed onto her, but Xu Linqiu remained unmoved, her grief only deepening. Her once-firm resolve was shaking. She couldn’t take it; she couldn’t take being told she was “disgusting.” She couldn’t force her anymore. Trying once was enough.

Xu Linqiu was weeping uncontrollably, a picture of fragile misery.

The moment Yi Chenqing (the main personality) woke up, she was hit by this scene. Her heart constricted with every falling tear. She frowned and reached out to wipe them away, but as her physical awareness returned, she realized the awkwardness of their situation.

She quickly scanned her surroundings: a tent, dim light, and Xu Linqiu pinned beneath her with her hands tied high above her head. Did I have another episode? But how could I treat her like this? She’s crying so hard.

Chenqing wanted to pull her into an embrace, but she was stopped by Xu Linqiu, who looked back at her. Xu’s eyes sparkled with fragmented light, and her bloodied lips parted: “Don’t move. Kiss me.”

The coldness was gone; in its place was a profound, aching tenderness. Xu Linqiu knew—She was back.

Yi Chenqing was different from the other personalities. Though she appeared cold on the surface, there was always a surge of warmth in the depths of her eyes when she looked at Xu. Just like now, she cupped Xu’s face, gently wiping away the tears with her thumb, then leaned in to kiss her lips.

She slowly kissed away the blood, coaxing her with a voice that was tender to the core: “Don’t cry. I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…”

Xu Linqiu tilted her head back slightly, returning the kiss with a lost intensity, sucking gently. They kissed passionately, tongues dancing, breaths intertwining. In the quiet of the tent, the wet sounds of their kiss were exceptionally intimate.

Yi Chenqing gradually lost her strength, collapsing entirely into Xu’s embrace. Only now did she realize—she had fallen completely in love with this woman. Perhaps it was love at first sight.

Furthermore, she didn’t seem to be the “dominant CEO” type at all. Every time they kissed, she felt like a lamb that didn’t want to resist. The lamb had fallen for the wolf, unable to control itself, wanting only to huddle in her arms and be the passive one. Because she loved her.

With a slight shift of her body, Xu Linqiu managed to flip their positions. Even with her feet tied, even in this awkward situation, she was addicted to the kiss. She needed more to drown out the panic in her heart. She was terrified that what Yi Chenlan said might become the truth.

She paused, her lips lightly brushing Chenqing’s. Chenqing adjusted her breathing, her warm breath fanning across Xu’s lips as she whispered, “Do you want to?…” If you want to, I can…

Xu Linqiu propped herself up on her elbows and knees, pulling back slightly to look at her, her eyes misty and fragmented. “I want you…”

“Let me untie your hands and feet first—”

“No need.” Xu smiled, though the smile looked a bit pale. “Let’s just keep it simple…”

The temperature in the tent seemed to rise as they locked eyes. Sensing the depth of that gaze, Yi Chenqing seemed to understand. She propped herself up to meet her, kissing the mole on the tip of Xu’s nose. “Was I very mean earlier? Did I scare you? I’m sorry…”

She didn’t know what had happened, but it had to be her fault. That was why Xu was crying so miserably.

“When I have an episode, I seem capable of anything. Don’t feel bad for me. If I tie you up or force you again next time, just slap me twice… Does it still hurt?”

Her eyes were overflowing with heartache, her brows furrowed in a way that made Xu Linqiu’s heart twitch. Xu’s strength gave out, and she collapsed back down, kissing Chenqing the moment they touched. She kissed her with deep, lingering passion, the faint taste of blood making her want to melt the woman into her very bones.

“Qingqing.” “Qingqing.”

She murmured the name repeatedly between kisses, her heart still aching with a hidden bitterness. If only she never recovered her memory. If only we could stay like this forever. If only we had met and fallen in love sooner.

“Mm~” Yi Chenqing responded softly. She lowered her gaze to look at Xu’s red-rimmed eyes. Even tied up, the woman was kissing her so urgently, wanting her. Even just like this, Chenqing felt comfortable—full of joy. Because it was her.

If only I didn’t have this illness. Then I wouldn’t lose so many memories of being with her. I wouldn’t accidentally make her angry or sad.

In the future, she decided, she would consult other experts. Yi Yanbai was becoming increasingly unreliable—it felt like she was hiding a lot of things.