I Don't Want To Fall In Love With The Heroine [Quick Wear] - Chapter 39

“Mom, she’s not my girlfriend! I tried to tell you yesterday, but you hung up so fast I didn’t get the chance. She’s just a younger friend. I brought her home for the holidays, that’s all.” Bai Qian spoke in a single breath, desperate to clarify the situation before the misunderstanding spiraled any further.

Mo Qingqing processed the words, seeing the utter seriousness on her daughter’s face. She realized she had indeed jumped the gun.

The joy on her face vanished like a wildfire losing its fuel. Her expression turned despondent, and she asked one last time, hoping she was wrong, “Truly? There’s nothing going on between you?”

Bai Qian nodded vigorously. “Truly. We are strictly friends.”

Mo Qingqing forced a polite smile and turned to Fu Siwan with an apologetic look. “I am so sorry, dear. This old auntie got ahead of herself.”

She was a quintessential Southern woman—every movement was as gentle as flowing water. In the presence of such a woman, Fu Siwan instinctively retracted the “porcupine” quills she usually reserved for Bai Qian. Her response was surprisingly docile and sweet. “It’s… it’s alright, Au—Auntie. You can call me Fu Siwan.”

Bai Qian heard the slight hitch in the girl’s voice as she addressed Mo Qingqing and felt a sudden urge to laugh. Look at this little brat—let’s see if she still insists on calling me ‘Auntie’ now that she’s met my mother!

The villa had guest rooms, but because of the misunderstanding, Mo Qingqing hadn’t had the housekeeper prepare them. Bai Qian gently pushed her mother toward the master bedroom. “It’s late, Mom. Go to sleep. We can handle the rooms ourselves.”

As she pushed, she noticed the master bedroom was empty. “Where’s Dad? Is he not home?”

Just then, a man’s voice boomed from behind them.

“Your dad is right here! I tried calling you earlier but you didn’t pick up. I thought you were still on the road.”

Bai Qian turned to see Bai Anjun lugging a bucket of fish. She stared in shock. “Dad, it’s almost midnight. Don’t tell me you just got back from fishing?”

“Your mother gave me the green light! Otherwise, would I dare stay out this late?” The man walked over to Mo Qingqing, his tone a mix of flattery and habitual spoiled charm. “Wife, I caught a huge haul today. I guarantee Xiao Qian and her partner will have a full fish feast tomorrow. Your husband is pretty impressive, right?”

Mo Qingqing, currently in a foul mood over the “friend” revelation, shot him a rare look of disdain. “Go shower. You stink of pond water.”

Bai Anjun ignored her, his eyes snapping to Bai Qian. His handsome, mature face was alight with excitement. “Where’s the partner? Is he tall? Handsome? Your mother told me the news yesterday and I haven’t slept a wink. If I don’t meet him tonight, I definitely won’t get any rest!”

Mo Qingqing let out a soft huff. “It’s a girl.”

Failing to notice his wife’s uncharacteristic coldness, Bai Anjun froze for a second before his grin returned. “A girl? Well, girls are sweet. Girls are good. Xiao Qian is always busy with work; it’ll be good to have someone at home to look after her.”

Bai Qian couldn’t get a word in edgewise, especially as Mo Qingqing followed up with: “The girl looks young. Like a student.”

Bai Anjun paused again, but then waved it off. “An age gap is fine. Our Xiao Qian managed to snag a college girl? Her charm must be greater than I thought! So, Qian, did you chase her, or did she chase you?”

Mo Qingqing’s brow furrowed in that gentle way that made it impossible to be annoyed by her. “Your daughter just said they are only friends. There is no relationship.”

Bai Anjun’s smile died instantly. He stared at the innocent-looking Bai Qian in disbelief. “You managed to lure her all the way home and you haven’t even secured a title yet? It only took me a week to win your mother over! Can’t you learn a thing or two from me? I gave you a whole company to manage and you did fine—how can you not even manage to chase down one little girl?”

He grew more indignant by the second. “What’s the use of making all that money if you can’t even get a girlfriend?”

Bai Qian: “…”

Suddenly, Bai Anjun’s tone shifted. “How far have you two gotten? Holding hands? Hugging? Look, since you’ve brought her home and your mother and I are here, we can play wingman for you.”

Bai Qian: Wait, what?

Realizing the man’s imagination was even more terrifying than the woman’s, Bai Qian quickly gave a concise, edited version of her history with Fu Siwan. She omitted the darker details of the transaction, framing it as a rescue of a girl in a dire situation.

Mo Qingqing’s final bit of disappointment vanished, replaced by a deep, maternal pity for Fu Siwan. She nodded approvingly at Bai Qian. “If you’ve decided to look after her, you should spend more time with her. Poor girl, having a mother like that at such a young age. Honestly.”

Bai Anjun, however, didn’t share the women’s soft-heartedness. He was a stubborn, one-track-minded man who refused to let the issue go. “Qian, I still think there’s something off. Even if Siwan is pitiable, there are millions of pitiable people in the world. Why did you only reach out to her? Be honest with your old man—you’re interested in her, aren’t you?”

“…” Bai Qian sighed helplessly. “I really am not. She’s a high schooler who just turned eighteen. If I actually had ‘intentions,’ that would be the problem.”

The man, who had become a devotee of melodramatic soap operas since retiring, wagged a finger at her. His gaze was sharp enough to pierce a soul. “Your mother and I have already accepted the ‘same gender’ factor; age means nothing. I trusted my eyes when I handed the company to you, and I was right. I’m trusting my eyes again now—this is not that simple.”

Bai Qian couldn’t win an argument against him, so she outsourced the job to her mother. “Mom, I need to shower. Can you please take Dad to bed?”

Bai Anjun tried to protest but was grabbed by the arm by Mo Qingqing. “Enough. It’s not enough for you to ‘ship’ couples on TV? You have to do it in real life too? Give it a rest. Xiao Qian will handle her own heart.”

“Wife, trust me! Some fires are ready to burn, but if we don’t give them a little spark, they might never start. What Xiao Qian needs is that spark from us!”

“…” Bai Qian was speechless as she turned back toward the guest rooms.

*****

She had been talking with her parents for about half an hour. When she had left the room, Fu Siwan had been standing by her suitcase; now that she was back, the girl was in the exact same spot. Her back was still straight, though her shoulders had slumped slightly.

Sensing the girl’s hidden unease, Bai Qian said softly, “Just think of this as our other home. My parents really like you.”

Fu Siwan looked up. She ignored the sentiment. “Why did your mother think we were a couple?”

Bai Qian didn’t hide the truth. “Probably because this is the first time I’ve ever brought a friend home.”

Fu Siwan’s eyes widened, her surprised expression looking quite adorable. “You… don’t have any friends?”

Instead of being offended, Bai Qian leaned in and mirrored her curiosity. “And you, little Fu Siwan? Do you have friends?”

“…” For once, Fu Siwan was at a loss for words. She shot Bai Qian a look of pure, blushing indignation.

Her watery eyes were full of unsaid emotions, and her pouting expression made Bai Qian’s heart skip a beat. Her hand twitched, rising halfway as if to pat the girl’s head, but she stopped herself. She asked earnestly, “Little Fu Siwan, may I pat your head?”

Fu Siwan took a decisive step back. “Don’t even think about it. Don’t touch me. I told you, I don’t like being touched.”

Predicting the result, Bai Qian wasn’t disappointed. She retracted her hand calmly. “This room hasn’t been cleaned yet. Go shower in the guest room. It’s late; go to bed once you’re done.”

Accustomed to being looked after, Fu Siwan nodded. She grabbed her suitcase and headed for the door, but paused at the threshold. She looked back. “What about you?”

Bai Qian smiled, heartened by the question. “I’m sleeping here, of course. Unless… you’re willing to let me sleep with you?”

The girl’s eyes flickered. She gave an awkward huff. “In your dreams!”

“Go shower. Goodnight.”

Bai Qian did a quick job of making her bed and headed into the bathroom. While showering, she thought she heard movement in the room. She turned off the water and called out, “Fu Siwan?”

There was no answer. She figured she was hallucinating and finished up. A few minutes later, she emerged in her pajamas.

She looked at the bed—which was now soaking wet—and felt a vein throb in her temple.

There was only one person in this house capable of such a childish stunt: Bai Anjun, the man determined to matchmake them at any cost.

A thought struck her, and she ran to the living room. Sure enough, the spacious sofa had been “contaminated” as well.

The culprit didn’t even try to hide. He stood outside the bedroom door, clutching a basin of water, and gave her an unrepentant wink. “Qian, on a cold night like this, it’s much safer to sleep in your own room.”

“…” Bai Qian ground her teeth. “Dad! We are really not like that!”

The man nodded agreeably. “If you’re ‘really not like that,’ then it’s even simpler, isn’t it? You’re both girls—what’s so strange about sharing a bed? Or is it that you’re refusing to sleep with Siwan because you actually do have a guilty conscience?”

Bai Qian: “…”

It’s not that I’m unwilling to sleep with her—it’s that she won’t let me sleep with her!

Bai Anjun made a move toward the guest room door. “Your old man has thick skin. If you’re too shy to ask, I’ll do it for you.”

Bai Qian rushed to stop him. “No, no! I’ll do it myself!”

If she let that man say another word to Fu Siwan, she’d have to move to the other side of the planet to hide her shame.

Knock, knock.

Fu Siwan opened the door quickly. “What?”

Behind her, Bai Qian could feel her father’s intense, expectant gaze burning into her back. Left with no choice, she opened her mouth.

“There’s been a… bit of an accident with the other room. Would you… be willing to put me up for the night?”

The request was absurd—the owner of the house asking a guest for “shelter.” Neither of them seemed to notice the irony. Bai Qian spoke with a pleading tone, only to be met with a cold rejection:

“What about the sofa?”

“Unusable.”

Fu Siwan looked at her as if she were a common con artist. Bai Qian, playing it smart, didn’t bother explaining. “If you don’t believe me, go see for yourself.”

Fu Siwan went. She checked and a moment later, she came back.

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