I Don't Want To Fall In Love With The Heroine [Quick Wear] - Chapter 34

The dim room was suddenly flooded with light as the overhead lamp flickered on.

The moment Bai Qian hit the switch, she turned and calmly pressed her palm against Fu Siwan’s pink lips—just as the girl was about to lean in for a kiss.

Bai Qian looked down. A thin layer of mist had gathered on her lenses, veiling whatever emotions were swirling in her eyes. Her voice was cool and melodic, devoid of any hint of reproach.

“I only wanted to celebrate your birthday. In the literal sense. Just a birthday.”

As she spoke, her gaze caught the cake sitting on the table. Her gentle smile deepened. “The cake is here. Perfect timing—I’m actually quite hungry. Let’s cut it together.”

Fu Siwan didn’t pull her hand away. Remaining in that position, Bai Qian led the young girl toward the table. The girl, whose attempted “sneak attack” had been thwarted, seemed to have settled into a daze, her thoughts unreadable.

As a Guardian of the Quick Transmigration worlds, Bai Qian had never been taught how to celebrate a protagonist’s birthday. She had a fleeting, vague sensation that she might have done this for someone once before, but when she searched for the memory, it vanished like a mirage.

Bai Qian didn’t waste time pondering whether it was a trick of the mind. Clearly, there were more important things to attend to. Just because she hadn’t done it before didn’t mean she didn’t know the protocol.

Recalling scenes from films she’d seen, she remembered the routine: you put candles on the cake, place the birthday hat on the guest of honor, sing “Happy Birthday,” and watch them make a wish.

Following that script, Bai Qian unpacked the cake and pushed two candles—an ‘1’ and an ‘8’—into the frosting. Finally, she gently settled the paper birthday hat onto the girl’s head.

She sang the song alone to the silent girl. Then, using a lighter, she sparked the two candles. Amidst the flickering orange glow, Bai Qian’s eyes softened into something as tender as spring water.

“Close your eyes and make a wish.”

Fu Siwan looked as though she had been struck. The vacant, “soul-departed” look in her eyes shattered, replaced by a complex, indecipherable expression. The candlelight danced in her dark pupils.

“Why?” the girl whispered, her voice trembling with caution. “Why go to all this trouble for me?”

Bai Qian gazed at her. “What if I told you there was no reason?”

Fu Siwan’s eyes began to rim with red. Her voice rose slightly, sounding like the desperate cry of a cornered animal. “There has to be a reason! In this world, no one is ever this kind without a motive!”

“The candles are going to blow out. How about I make the wish for you instead?” Bai Qian redirected the conversation smoothly.

She reached out, folding her hands over the girl’s, lifting them between them. She looked at her earnestly. “I wish that from this day forward, little Fu Siwan meets a kind soul who will give her whatever her heart desires.”

Whoosh.

The candles were extinguished. The light in the girl’s eyes faded into the dark, and she heard the woman’s gentle murmur.

“This is the gift Bai Qian is giving to Fu Siwan—a kind soul named Bai Qian.”

She reached up and brushed away two crystalline tears that had escaped down the girl’s cheeks. “In this world, there is one kind of reason that needs no further logic. It’s called: ‘Because you are Fu Siwan.'”

“Happy birthday, my little one.”

******

In the end, only half the cake was eaten. Bai Qian finished most of that half herself; Fu Siwan had picked at it with her fork, distracted, unable to stomach more than a few bites.

Just as Bai Qian was about to ask her something, the girl’s carefully restrained emotions finally snapped. Within seconds, she had dissolved into a sobbing mess. Startled, Bai Qian didn’t hesitate. She coaxed the girl into bed, staying by her side.

She didn’t lie down herself. Instead, she knelt by the bedside, patiently and rhythmically patting the girl’s back through the duvet. It took a long time for the “little rabbit” to finally grow quiet.

Bai Qian looked down. The corners of the girl’s eyes were stained a pathetic, heartbreaking red.

…

When Bai Qian woke up the next morning, the first thing she saw was the unmade bed beside her. Looking down, she saw the hotel slippers were still there, but Fu Siwan’s shoes were gone.

She sat up, rubbing her temples as she scanned the room. Half a cake remained on the table. The backpack that had been sitting by the cake box was gone, along with the school uniform jacket that had been draped over the chair.

Bai Qian called her assistant, Xie Chao. A few minutes after she finished a breakfast wrap she’d bought in the alley across from the hotel, he pulled up in his car.

As she got in, Xie Chao was practically bursting with eagerness to show off. “Boss Bai, I stayed up all night getting the apartment ready. Everything I bought is in pairs! I guarantee you and your ‘little rabbit’ will love it the moment you walk in.”

“Thanks for the trouble. Take me to the office.”

“Sure thing! So, are we going to pick up my future—wait, the office? We’re not picking up the future lady of the house?”

Bai Qian bit into her wrap just as he spoke. A piece of the crispy filling popped out of the bag and landed on her lap. Her face darkened as she pulled out a tissue to clean it up. “Don’t get the wrong idea. She’s just a kid I know. It’s not that kind of relationship.”

Xie Chao hissed through his teeth. “Oh no. What do I do? I specifically bought everything in matching couple sets. If the girl sees that, isn’t she going to think you’re some kind of perverted ‘sugar mommy’ who doesn’t respect her elders?”

Crunch. The sound of Bai Qian crushing the tissue-wrapped debris in her fist echoed sharply in the car.

“Xie Chao, are you looking for a pay cut?”

The young man immediately shut his mouth, eyes fixed forward, trying his best to disappear into the driver’s seat. After dropping her at the office, he poked his head out the window. “Boss, should I go back to Lanmei Court and redo the place?”

“No need. I’ll handle it myself after work.”

Xie Chao hesitated, looking like he wanted to say more, but ultimately kept quiet and went to park the car.

******

The workday ended. The clock on her lock screen showed it was nearly 6:00 PM.

Bai Qian grabbed a pack of crackers from her drawer to stave off hunger and headed to the parking garage. She didn’t call Xie Chao; she drove herself. Following the GPS through a maze of turns, she finally pulled up in front of a dilapidated housing complex.

The road between the buildings was narrow. Bai Qian eyed the distance from the gate and decided to go in on foot. Fu Siwan’s home was on the third floor.

By now, the sky was pitch black. The voice-activated lights in the stairwell were long overdue for repair; every step Bai Qian took caused the bulb to flicker neurotically three times, a dizzying sight.

When she reached the door, she pressed the doorbell—a grime-streaked, yellowing button she found thoroughly repulsive. After waiting a few minutes with no response, she pressed it again. Still nothing.

She tentatively knocked. The battered, odorous door gave off a dull thud. About thirty seconds later, a woman’s shrill voice screamed from inside: “Fu Siwan, are you deaf?! Didn’t you hear someone knocking? Get out there and open the door!”

Hurried footsteps approached. The lock clicked, and as the door swung open a fraction, Bai Qian saw that stunningly beautiful face.

The girl’s cold expression shifted the moment she recognized her visitor. She quickly masked her emotions, her hand tightening on the knob as if to slam the door shut.

Bai Qian, anticipating this, pushed the door open first. The girl stumbled back, losing her balance. Bai Qian reached out with practiced reflexes, catching her by the waist.

Fu Siwan had no meat on her bones; she was as light as a breeze. With one sweep of her arm, Bai Qian easily pulled the girl into her embrace.

“Fu Siwan, why aren’t you saying anything? Who is it?”

The woman’s voice snapped the girl out of her daze. She shoved Bai Qian away, taking a sharp, distant step back.

“What are you doing here again?”

Bai Qian looked down at her clothes. A few suds of dish soap from the girl’s hands had rubbed off onto her. She frowned, her expression darkening. “Didn’t your mother say she wouldn’t make you do this kind of work at home?”

Fu Siwan stated flatly, “She thinks I’ve already slept with you.”

The subtext was clear: since she no longer had the “value” of her first time, there was no need to treasure or protect her anymore. In just one day, the “little rabbit” had regrown her prickly, defensive thorns.

“I’m not selling myself to you anymore,” Fu Siwan added icily. “You should leave, Auntie.”

From the living room, the woman began screaming again. “Are you a mute, Fu Siwan? I asked who’s at the door!”

The girl ignored her, returning to the kitchen with a numb expression.

Li Lanzhao scrambled off the sofa, cursing under her breath. But when she saw the woman standing in the entryway, her face underwent a theatrical transformation.

“Miss Bai! It’s you!”

As the woman approached, Bai Qian caught a scent—not a physical odor, but the metaphorical stench of a soul rotted to the core.

“I’m here to take her away,” Bai Qian said.

Li Lanzhao’s smile brightened, but then her eyes flickered with a greedy calculation. She put on an air of feigned distress. “Miss Bai, your timing is really unfortunate. Just half an hour ago, a Mr. Wang called. He said it was a shame he missed Siwan’s birthday yesterday and wants to give her twenty thousand to make up for it today. So, you see…”

“Is a million enough?”

The woman froze. Her voice shook with greed. “You… you said… a million? Just for today? Our Siwan, after serving you last night—”

Bai Qian cut her off, her voice cold as ice. “A million. For her.”

Li Lanzhao’s attitude did a complete 180-degree turn. When it came to “trading” Fu Siwan, she was always sharp. “Miss Bai, a million is a lot of money to us, certainly. But to buy our Siwan outright… aren’t you undervaluing her a bit?”

Bai Qian sneered. “One million. Take it, or I guarantee you won’t even see ten thousand when the regret sets in.”

Li Lanzhao puffed herself up with the bravado of a street-smart shrew. “We live in a society of laws! I might be a commoner, but I won’t be bullied.”

“Zhao Yinghao was arrested yesterday for child molestation,” Bai Qian said calmly. “The police found quite a few things in his possession. Among them was an audio recording of his transaction with you. Ms. Li, under the new laws passed earlier this year, I wonder if you know how many years you get for ‘procuring and coercing’ others into prostitution?”

Panic finally set in. “That’s impossible! I’m her mother! I just told her to make some friends—how could that be prostitution? You’re lying!”

Bai Qian’s laugh was cold. Even though she knew this woman had raised Fu Siwan, she felt not a shred of sympathy. “Ms. Li, I’m giving you one chance. Take the money and sever all ties with her forever, or I submit the evidence and let you enjoy some ‘tea’ behind bars for a few years.”

…

In the kitchen, the girl’s oversized sleeves were rolled up, but they kept slipping down with every movement. Fu Siwan constantly had to stop to push the sodden fabric back up her arms, only for it to slide down again and get soaked by the dishwater.

With a frustrated click of her tongue, she went to set down a soapy bowl, but a pair of hands reached out from behind her. They caught the rebellious sleeves before she could.

She smelled that scent again—a clean, gentle fragrance that had no business being in a house like this. It was an addictive scent.

Bai Qian had pulled her hair back into a simple ponytail, a youthful style that softened the sharp, corporate edges of her persona. She leaned down, folding the girl’s sleeves properly. With a single fold, she took the girl’s hands and held them under the running water.

Their fingers—both pairs equally fair—intertwined intimately. Bai Qian was meticulous, her expression focused as she gently washed away the white suds from the girl’s skin.

Finally, she turned her head, offering that intoxicating, exclusive tenderness to the girl.

“Little Fu Siwan,” she whispered. “From this day on, you belong to me.”

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