I Don't Want To Fall In Love With The Heroine [Quick Wear] - Chapter 36

After their latest clash, Bai Qian suffered another crushing defeat, once again proving that her skin was far too thin for this game.

The young girl now looked more like the elder of the two, offering a piece of earnest, “grandmotherly” advice. “Auntie, remember this: either don’t touch me at all, or if you’re going to start something, don’t chicken out halfway through.”

What could Bai Qian say? She was utterly speechless.

Fortunately, she had important matters to attend to, and in the whirlwind of work, the dining table interlude soon slipped her mind.

The weekend vanished in the blink of an eye. Though Bai Qian was technically a first-time “mother” without the labor pains, her lingering pity for Fu Siwan had turned her into an overprotective guardian. After only two days, she was fussing over the girl as if she were a newborn she had just brought home from the hospital.

Even though the school was only a ten-minute walk away and Fu Siwan was a perfectly capable eighteen-year-old, Bai Qian couldn’t settle her nerves. Tossing and turning in bed, she finally got up and knocked on the guest room door to announce her decision: she would be escorting her to school.

The girl rejected the offer without a second thought. “Auntie, I’m an adult. I can get to school by myself!”

“You’ve never been there, and they don’t allow phones. Let me take you on the first day, and I promise you can go solo after that.”

Fu Siwan grew impatient. “I checked the GPS. You just go straight from the complex. It’s fine! Don’t worry, I’ll get there in one piece.”

Before Bai Qian could argue, the girl hopped out of bed with a dark expression and slammed the door in her face, clicking the lock for good measure.

“…”

Defeated and helpless, the “heartbroken” woman slunk back to her own room.

The next morning, her first priority was to wake the little one up. After knocking for ages with no response, she tried the handle. Click. The door was unlocked.

Fu Siwan was nowhere to be found. Bai Qian searched all the way to the dining room, where she finally spotted a note pinned under a coaster. The handwriting was a bit hurried, unmistakably Siwan’s:

Gone to school. If you want me to actually study, don’t call me for the next few days. Bye.

Bai Qian felt a dramatic pang of unrequited devotion. Independent eighteen-year-olds are not cute at all!

She expected the next few days to be an agonizing wait, but the reality was quite the opposite. On the first day, she did struggle to adapt—she caught herself spacing out at work, worrying if the girl was adjusting to the new environment or if she was being shunned by the cliques at her new school.

By the second day, the sheer volume of work wouldn’t allow her the luxury of overthinking. Eventually, if it weren’t for the occasional glance at her phone, she might have almost forgotten she had a half-tame rabbit waiting at home.

*****

Friday arrived.

As Fu Siwan pressed her thumb to the fingerprint scanner, she braced herself for the barrage of questions she expected to receive the moment the door opened. Her head already throbbed at the thought of the nagging she’d have to endure all night.

The woman was only twenty-eight—how could she sound as tedious as someone in her fifties?

Fu Siwan knew she was acting out, testing the limits of the affection she was being shown. If it weren’t for Bai Qian, she would have been forced by Li Lanzhao to give herself to some balding old man with yellow teeth and acne scars. Instead, she had escaped the nightmare that had stifled her for eighteen years.

The darker side of human nature is innate. Once someone is pampered, they tend to push their luck. When someone is cherished, they easily become arrogant.

Fu Siwan knew she was being ungrateful. Bai Qian was her savior, yet instead of showing gratitude, she treated her with cold indifference. Anyone else would have called her an ungrateful “white-eyed wolf.”

She knew her flaws, but she had no desire to change. Bai Qian had spoiled her; with her gentleness and patience, she had personally rescued a “dodder flower” that was incapable of surviving on its own. And what can a dodder flower do but cling to the great tree that supports it, draining its nutrients?

The house was silent. A glance at the entryway told her Bai Qian wasn’t home yet. Fu Siwan squeezed herself a glass of juice and stared at the vibrant liquid, sipping it down until the glass was empty.

Thirst quenched, she went to her room. A large desk sat by the bed, and on the white wall above it, a sheet of A4 paper was taped. In the center, written in bold marker, were the words: Study Hard! Improve Every Day!

It looked childish and ridiculous.

During her days at school, Fu Siwan hadn’t actually studied. Habits aren’t changed by a few lines of “chicken soup” motivation. She had forgotten the last time she truly focused on learning. The only thing etched into her memory was a poisonous lecture from Li Lanzhao’s ugly mouth:

“What’s the use of good grades? I gave birth to a beauty, not a scholar. Use your looks. Capture those men’s hearts. The more money they spend on you, the more successful you are!”

Li Lanzhao had repeated that mantra every day. When Siwan had tried to argue as a child, her face had been slapped swollen with a slipper. Her mother had locked her in a room, starving her for a day and a night, before letting her out to ask if she knew her “mistake” and if she would finally learn how to lure men.

Fu Siwan didn’t want to die, and she feared pain. So, from that day on, she changed.

She had imagined her ending many times: caught in a hotel room with some married man, his wife bursting in, blinded by rage, trying to kill her. And the man, who just moments before had been whispering “I’d die for you” with his filthy mouth, would cower in the corner, watching as she was choked and beaten.

If she didn’t die the first time, there would be a next time, and a time after that, until finally, she’d end up like a pile of mud, rotting away on a pair of sour, cheap bedsheets.

She had prepared for that end, but she never guessed that on the threshold of hell, a “kind soul” named Bai Qian would appear.

The woman called herself a “kind soul.” It was hilarious. How could she be so dense? She was clearly a god—how could she settle for being just a “kind soul”?

But why did God come so late?

Siwan felt she had already been chewed up and ruined. To restore her to something clean… that would be nothing short of a miracle.

Lost in these thoughts, she fell asleep at her desk. When she woke up, it was pitch black. She fumbled for the light, and as the room brightened, it finally dawned on her: Bai Qian still wasn’t back.

She checked the phone Bai Qian had left for her. It was already past 7:00 PM. Her finger hovered over the screen before she pressed the only number in her contacts.

The phone rang several times before a man’s voice answered. “Are you looking for Boss Bai? She’s in the restroom, but she should be back soon. Could you wait a moment?”

Fu Siwan hung up immediately, her expression turning icy.

******

Xie Chao said “Hello?” a few more times, but when there was no reply, he checked the screen. The call was dead.

Just as he was about to head back into the private dining room, Bai Qian appeared. “Was that a call for me?”

Xie Chao handed the phone over. “I was worried she’d get anxious waiting, so I took the liberty of answering.”

Bai Qian checked the call log. The name “Little Rabbit” made her heart sink. She had been so caught up in treating her team to a celebratory dinner that she’d forgotten she had a rabbit at home waiting to be fed.

“Did she say anything?”

“Not a word. Just hung up.”

Bai Qian sighed. “I’m heading home. If they want more food, cover the bill for now and I’ll reimburse you later.”

Xie Chao was shocked. “But you haven’t even started eating! You’re leaving now?”

“If I don’t get back soon,” Bai Qian said helplessly, “the rabbit at home is going to start biting people.”

******

As it turned out, the rabbit didn’t bite—she simply ignored her.

Bai Qian spent ages outside the closed door, trying to coax her out, but the sulking girl wouldn’t even grant her a single “Go away.” Left with no choice, Bai Qian played her final card: the spare key.

The door clicked open. Even before stepping inside, the heavy, low-pressure atmosphere nearly suffocated her. The room was dark, the curtains drawn tight, giving the space a gloom that felt like a scene from a horror movie.

Bai Qian couldn’t see her. Standing by the door, she called the girl’s name. No response.

She flicked on a lamp. Finally, she spotted her on the floor by the bed, her entire body tucked into a small ball with her head buried in her arms. Under the overhead light, she looked incredibly small and helpless.

Bai Qian approached silently and sat down beside her, reaching out to pull the “little rabbit” into her arms. The girl, who had looked as though she was sleeping, suddenly twisted away, dodging her touch.

Relieved that she was at least reacting, Bai Qian didn’t play the cat-and-mouse game; she moved in and firmly pulled her into an embrace. Fu Siwan struggled like a trapped animal, resisting the proximity. “Don’t touch me! Get out!”

Bai Qian absorbed the girl’s agitation and fear, holding her tightly, repeating “I’m sorry” into her ear over and over again.

After a long time, the girl’s strength finally wavered. She looked up, glaring at Bai Qian with a mix of resentment and grievance, before leaning in and biting the woman’s shoulder.

The bite didn’t hurt. But the way the girl started sobbing immediately afterward… that hurt.

The sound of Fu Siwan’s muffled crying broke Bai Qian’s heart. She held her even tighter, her own voice cracking as she continued to apologize.

Eventually, the girl cried herself into exhaustion, fading into unconsciousness in Bai Qian’s arms. Before she slipped away, she murmured a final, sorrowful plea:

“If you don’t want to take care of me… don’t rescue me. I’ll believe you… I’ll really believe you.”

Bai Qian didn’t go back to her own room that night. She stayed in the guest room, cradling the tear-stained “little rabbit” until morning.

******

The next day, Fu Siwan woke first. She tried to pull away from the woman’s embrace, but as she went to climb out of bed, her hand was caught. With a gentle tug, she was pulled back down.

Bai Qian’s eyes were open. She released the girl’s hand only to reform it into a pinky-promise gesture, hooking her finger with Siwan’s. Her voice was raspy with sleep, low and alluring.

“I swear… if I ever make you sad like that again, may I meet a miserable end.”

Just as their thumbs were about to touch to seal the vow, Fu Siwan broke the link. Without warning, she leaned in—and before Bai Qian could react—pressed her lips against the corner of the woman’s mouth.

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