I Don't Want To Fall In Love With The Heroine [Quick Wear] - Chapter 1

Slender, tapering fingers with joints as distinct and pale as white jade.

A face so beautiful it seemed meticulously sculpted by the gods themselves.

A crystal goblet, cradling a deep crimson, mellow liquid.

A pair of enticingly thin lips, coated in vivid red lipstick, drawing closer to the rim.

As she swallowed, her eyes—clear as polished glass—narrowed slightly, giving her the look of a sated kitten.

Bai Qian was just a second too late.

She could only watch from a distance as Shao Zizhi drained the spiked glass of red wine.

The “stuff” sourced from America lived up to its reputation; the effects were not to be underestimated. In less than a few minutes, that pristine face was flushed with an unnatural, feverish glow—a shade deeper and more intense than the most vibrant begonia in bloom.

Shao Zizhi’s delicate brows knitted together, a sign that she, too, sensed something was wrong.

Waiting in the wings, a man who had been lurking for his opportunity checked his reflection in his phone screen. He smoothed his hair and donned the signature, charming smile that had won him countless fans. Like an

unclean serpent fixated on its prey, he began to make his move toward the woman he was certain he’d claim.

But another figure beat him to it. Just as the seemingly intoxicated woman groaned, clutching her forehead as her body went limp, a hand reached out. With a swift hook, Bai Qian caught her, firmly steadying her by her slender waist.

“Are you alright?”

Shao Zizhi felt as though her entire body was smoldering. It was as if tiny flames were licking against her skin, searing and parching. It was a sensation she had never experienced before—an nameless yearning clawing for a release it couldn’t find.

The hand supporting her waist and the sweet, cool breath of the person whispering in her ear were utterly foreign. Normally, she couldn’t tolerate such proximity to a stranger, yet because of her body’s abnormal state, she found herself uncontrollably wanting to press closer to that icy touch.

Bai Qian made a split-second decision. “I’m taking you to the hospital.”

She had barely taken a step with the swaying woman when a voice, thin as a mosquito’s hum, reached her ear: “No… don’t.”

Shao Zizhi knew she was at her breaking point. She didn’t know exactly what was plaguing her, but she was certain she wouldn’t last the trip to the hospital.

Bai Qian turned to look at her, startled by the fine beads of sweat breaking out on her forehead. Seeing her face flushed to its limit and her eyes trembling with piteous distress, she cursed that lecherous director again in her mind.

“The… the penthouse suite… my fingerprint… it’ll let you in… Th-thank you.” Her consciousness fraying at the edges, Shao Zizhi knew she couldn’t let anyone see her like this. She gritted her teeth, forcing the words out in ragged breaths.

Bai Qian was relieved they were in a secluded corner; there was a door right behind them, shielded from the crowd’s view. If they left now, they wouldn’t be spotted. Given Shao Zizhi’s status and her current condition, any attention would lead to a disaster.

“Hang in there. I’m taking you up.”

Shao Zizhi looked thin, but she was even lighter than she appeared. Bai Qian carried her to the top floor with almost no effort.

The entire floor was occupied by a single presidential suite. Propping the woman against her, Bai Qian took Shao Zizhi’s elegant finger and prepared to press it against the scanner—

“Mmh—”

Unable to endure the torture of the drug any longer, a pained, stifled moan escaped the woman’s throat. It sounded like the mewl of a nursing kitten, scratching at Bai Qian’s nerves like a playful claw.

Shao Zizhi’s body was now pressed flush against Bai Qian’s. The heat coursing through her was slightly soothed by the coolness of the person she was touching. Her logic had been all but incinerated; guided by pure instinct, she leaned into the person who now felt like her only antidote. She shrugged off the hand holding hers and swung her arm around, firmly seizing Bai Qian’s waist.

Before Bai Qian could protest, she was slammed back, pinned firmly against the cold wall.

Shao Zizhi’s burning lips searched blindly like a lost creature until they brushed against soft skin. Instantly, like a pathetic stray finding a home, she refused to let go.

This was the first time Bai Qian had been so brazenly “accosted.” She froze for a half-second, only snapping back to reality when she felt the hands around her waist tighten and the kiss on her neck grow more desperate and unrestrained. She struggled to push the woman away, noticing a smear of red lipstick already staining her skin.

She barked a low command: “Shao Zizhi! Look at me. Who am I?”

Hearing her name, the woman forced her heavy eyelids open a fraction.

The face before her was clean and pure. In an entertainment industry overflowing with beauties, Bai Qian’s looks weren’t necessarily the most striking, yet for some reason, they were incredibly soothing to look at.

Bai Qian.

The name surfaced sluggishly in Shao Zizhi’s mind. She remembered her now.

Technically, Bai Qian was her senior, having debuted earlier and being older in years. However, she’d never signed with a good agency. In all her years in the industry, she’d only played supporting roles in a few web dramas that failed to make a splash. Aside from that, she had no notable works to her name.

They had no scenes together in this production, and Shao Zizhi hadn’t really noticed her until earlier that evening. When the director had called everyone for a group photo, Bai Qian had been tucked away in a corner eating. The director had called her over in passing, and only then did Shao Zizhi spare her a glance.

She never expected they would speak, let alone that this woman would be the one to save her.

But her mind was in no state for complex thought. Soon, she suffered the “consequences” of overtaxing her drug-addled brain. Her remaining reason was burned to ash by the rising heat. She let go of everything, leaving only a pair of parched, feverish lips to once again invade her “benefactor.”

Bai Qian could handle a Shao Zizhi who still had a sliver of logic. But the beauty before her now, driven entirely by desire, possessed a strength that was truly difficult to fight off.

Lipsticks of different shades collided. Due to one person’s abandon, the other’s clean lips were soon smeared with irregular patches of vivid red.

A waist held tight by an uncompromising grip.

Slender fingers threading through silk hair.

The air grew thick and sweltering.

Then, a soft, coaxing voice—the kind that makes one’s heart melt—murmured:

“Sister… help me.”

“I need you, Sister.”

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