Seduced Me into a Deep Fall - Chapter 52

Song Yi wasn’t privy to the details of Yun Fengzhi’s operation.

That evening, back at home, Song Yi and Ling Xi huddled under the blankets, anxiously awaiting news from Yun Fengzhi.

Tan Nijun, whose position differed from Yun Fengzhi’s, hadn’t accompanied them and was instead on a call with Ling Xi.

“You’re really going to wait? It might be very late,” Tan Nijun’s voice came through the screen.

Ling Xi, sketching drafts for Yun Fengzhi while replying, said, “We are. My sister and I already agreed—we’ll watch a horror movie later. Guaranteed to keep us awake.”

“You two are really something,” Tan Nijun remarked with a sigh.

“I have to get back to work now. I’ll let you know as soon as there’s any news.”

“Alright, good luck.” Ling Xi hung up, tossed her pen aside, and leaned against Song Yi with a long sigh.

“Nervous?” Song Yi was adjusting the projector.

Song Yi couldn’t deny it.

“Want me to make it worse? Like… blowing bubbles for you?” Ling Xi’s breath brushed against Song Yi’s ear.

Before Song Yi could refuse—

Only shimmering soap bubbles remained, landing on delicate skin, crushed repeatedly, leaving traces of light.

……

“Actually, I’m not mad that Mom said you resemble Mu Xie,” Ling Xi said after resting for a while. She had already requested time off for the afternoon and brought over snacks that Butler Zhao had bought earlier.

“It’s not true anyway. If she wants to say it, let her. I won’t get upset.”

Song Yi lay sideways on the sofa, watching her.

“I’m angry at her… for saying that Mother’s critical illness and coma were fabricated to hide from Mu Xie’s family. My mom was actually healed after being rescued.”

Ling Xi pulled Song Yi up, and the two leaned against each other, munching on cookies while Ling Xi vented.

“Can you believe this mess? My mom willingly went to prison, and my mother became half-vegetative just to hide.”

The more Ling Xi thought about it, the angrier she got, biting into the cookie with extra force.

“…It’s not entirely unreasonable,” Song Yi said, watching her bite down hard. Remembering the marks on her own body, she averted her gaze.

“Nervous. How can I not be when it’s about their safety?”

But right now, Ling Xi just wanted to act spoiled with Song Yi.

“Jiejie, are you scared of horror movies?” She remembered Song Yi had never been particularly brave.

“No. They look fake. Pretty much a sleeping aid,” Song Yi admitted honestly.

“You?”

Ling Xi burrowed into her arms. “Some scare me. The psychological ones, with heavy atmospheres—not just a ghost popping out suddenly.”

She recalled her university days, when she, Jiang Yuyang, and He Qingmo would huddle under blankets on weekends, watching horror movies on a tablet.

Usually, after the movie, she and He Qingmo would stay up all night.

Not because they didn’t want to sleep—but because they simply couldn’t.

Ling Xi patted her head. She felt her memory had improved lately; the sluggishness when recalling the past was gone.

“I haven’t seen many like that,” Song Yi said, now curious. She was looking forward to watching the movie Ling Xi had picked later.

“Others watch comedies for New Year’s—we’re watching horror.”

Only then did Ling Xi remember she was still live-streaming. She returned to her seat, sighed, and turned the mic back on.

“Gonna stream for a bit. Later, I’ll watch a movie with my wife.”

The chat instantly exploded with questions—some asking about the silhouette from earlier, others about what they’d be watching tonight.

Some fans even had the wild idea of wanting them to livestream watching movies together.

“…Not that kind of movie. A horror film. Livestreaming would ruin the atmosphere,” Lingxi explained while reading the extremely inappropriate comments.

“Why are your minds always in the gutter? Be serious for once. My wife and I don’t spend every day clinging to each other, nibbling away, and doing this and that in our daily lives.”

Even with this clarification, the barrage of comments didn’t settle down.

[Got it, you’re the one nibbling her]

[Got it, she’s the one nibbling you]

Song Yi was somewhat flustered. Fortunately, she had been in her position for over three years now.

These matters would have been troublesome if they’d occurred when she first took over as chairwoman.

But now, Song Yi had sufficient resources and personnel to handle them. The company’s upper management was almost entirely her people.

“You really do know quite a lot,” Song Yi said to Qi Zhen, finally understanding why Lingxi was so upset.

No one likes being kept in the dark. Especially by their own family.

After Song Yi prepared snacks and drinks and set up the projector, Lingxi ended her livestream and snuggled into the same spot, ready to be scared.

An hour later, Lingxi paused the movie, trembling as she pulled Song Yi to accompany her to the bathroom.

“Should I wait outside for you?” Song Yi felt nothing about the film, finding it mostly confusing and sleep-inducing.

“No, you have to come in,” Lingxi insisted, refusing to let go of Song Yi’s hand.

“Then… should I watch you?” Song Yi couldn’t help but laugh as she looked at Lingxi. “I told you we should have done that other thing instead.”

“That’s too physically demanding—we’d just fall asleep afterward. Don’t look at me, sister, turn around.”

Lingxi shooed Song Yi while still holding her hand.

“Does holding hands make you feel better?” Song Yi didn’t quite understand what Lingxi was afraid of, but she was happy to stay by her side.

“Having you here makes me feel safe,” Lingxi said, though she remained tense inside.

Still, with Song Yi nearby, she could at least enter the bathroom and walk down the dark hallway without complete terror.

“Sister, you’re my strength,” Lingxi said after quickly finishing up, immediately throwing herself into Song Yi’s arms.

“There, there, it’s okay. None of it’s real,” Song Yi gladly accepted Lingxi’s embrace.

“I know, but when I close my eyes, all I see is…” Lingxi felt like her sanity was slipping away.

“Want to keep watching?” Song Yi successfully guided Lingxi back to the living room, gently stroking her hair as she asked.

Lingxi was the type who couldn’t handle horror but was addicted to it anyway. Without hesitation, she pressed play. “Yes. With you here, why wouldn’t I?”

Half an hour later, Song Yi stopped the movie and turned on the lights.

Lingxi lay sprawled on the couch, looking completely drained.

“Now I really won’t be able to sleep,” Lingxi rubbed her eyes.

At least tomorrow was the weekend, so she wouldn’t have to drag herself to work.

“What about you, sister? Really not affected at all?” Lingxi had now become Song Yi’s little shadow, following her everywhere.

“Not really. I probably didn’t understand much of it,” Song Yi pulled Lingxi closer. “There’s a full moon tonight—want to go downstairs and admire it?”

“Can we bring a light?” Lingxi hesitated before compromising.

“Of course. As long as you don’t mind this… moth nightlight,” Song Yi teased, referencing something from the movie.

Lingxi let out a sharp, horrified scream.

“I’m not going, wuwuwu…” She clung haphazardly to Song Yi while fake-sobbing dramatically. “Let’s just stay here…”

Song Yi had merely mentioned it casually, never expecting to frighten Lingxi this much. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t mean to.”

Seeing Lingxi so terrified twisted Song Yi’s heart. She quickly pulled her into a tight embrace.

“Waa… You really didn’t do it on purpose?” Lingxi hadn’t even had time to get angry at Song Yi yet.

“No, I genuinely didn’t realize you’d be scared. I wasn’t trying to frighten you.”

Song Yi even found a blanket to wrap around Lingxi. “Feeling better now?”

Lingxi nodded vigorously. “Not going down.”

“How about watching from the balcony?” Song Yi pointed. “There’s light indoors. And I’ll be with you.”

“Okay…”

Only when seated on the balcony lounge chair did Lingxi begin to relax slightly.

She nestled against Song Yi’s shoulder, whimpering softly as she sought warmth.

“Hey—Xibao?” A voice called from downstairs after a while.

Just as Lingxi had calmed down, the intermittent voice nearly made her heart stop again.

“That must be your mom. Don’t be scared, sweetie.” This was Song Yi’s first time witnessing Lingxi’s unusually timid side.

Lingxi finally snapped out of it.

“Mom? You scared me to death.”

Leaning over the railing, she saw Qi Zhen below.

Along with Lingyue and Jiang Yuyang. Lingyue held her phone, apparently live-streaming.

“You’re the one who scared us! Was that your scream earlier? What happened?” Qi Zhen looked up at Lingxi exasperatedly.

She certainly didn’t seem distressed.

Song Yi, standing behind Lingxi, knowingly shielded her nervous back.

“I was watching a horror movie. Didn’t fall.”

“Oh—coming down then? We’re moon-gazing.”

Having dodged Song Yi’s invitation, Lingxi couldn’t escape Qi Zhen’s.

She was practically carried downstairs—half-escorted, half-carried by Song Yi.

“Sis, you’re live-streaming moon viewing?” After greeting Jiang Yuyang, Lingxi glanced at Lingyue’s screen—how familiar. Just two hours ago she’d been chatting with fans in her own stream.

“Not exactly. I’m discussing relationship advice with them.”

The livestream chat was exploding.

[Host’s sister sounds familiar]
[The horror movie thing too]
[Are we all following the same CP?]

Lingyue subtly pointed out the comments to Lingxi.

Lingxi made a throat-slitting gesture.

She absolutely didn’t want her identity revealed now.

But her distinctive voice had already given her away—fans were screenshotting and sending messages to her streaming account.

“Alright, since we’ve got two more guests joining, let’s switch to casual chatting.”

Lingyue’s stream successfully distracted Lingxi.

Now less frightened, she slightly distanced herself from Song Yi.

Song Yi closed the gap, embracing her as they sat in the garden.

“Not scared anymore?” Song Yi whispered.

“With more people around, it’s not so bad,” Lingxi murmured back.

“But that doesn’t mean I can’t hold you, right?”

Mid-sentence, they suddenly noticed the microphone that had somehow appeared right before them.

Both froze, turning to stare at Lingyue.

Lingyue hastily withdrew her phone, pretending nothing happened.

Meanwhile, the livestream’s popularity instantly doubled.

Even though it was approaching midnight, the original CP fans of Ling Xi and Song Yi were still pouring into Ling Yue’s livestream with full force.

[“I knew it was them! Yue Da and her wife!”]

[“Their voices are so recognizable ahhh! Host, what’s your relationship with them?”]

[“You guys missed it earlier—I heard Yue Da shout ‘sister’ really loudly. So need I say more? They must be sisters!”]

[“Biological sisters?”]

[“Obviously? The host just mentioned her mom’s here tonight too. Must be a family outing.”]

Ling Yue offered no explanation, letting the barrage of comments surge to boost the livestream’s popularity.

“Alright everyone, get your snacks and tea ready. Little sis, have you and your wife ever fought?” She deliberately chose topics she knew would pique the audience’s interest.

“Hmm? I thought you two should be the ones chatting.” Ling Xi was focused on peeling tangerines for Song Yi, not particularly keen on joining Ling Yue’s livestream.

“Since you’re here anyway. If you don’t want to answer that, how about this next one—how many times a week?”

Ling Xi and Song Yi simultaneously looked up at Ling Yue.

This one truly knew how to play the algorithm.

“Questioning us is boring.” Before Ling Xi could react, Song Yi swiftly responded.

“You two… just started dating, right in the honeymoon phase. Why don’t you tell us how many times a week?”

“Or should I ask—how many times a night?”

Song Yi knew Ling Yue and Jiang Yuyang were just pretending to be a couple for clout. Throwing the question back would leave them squirming for a while.

Jiang Yuyang indeed froze up.

Having crushed on Ling Yue for years, she’d only ever had one erotic dream about her. Actual intimacy was out of the question—Ling Yue didn’t even like her that way.

But Ling Yue, ever the seasoned pro, had anticipated such questions and rehearsed responses beforehand.

“We’re planning to right after the livestream. As for frequency, we’ll know after we’re done.” She smoothly deflected the awkward inquiry.

She seemed to have moved locations. When she spoke again, Ling Xi noticed the background noise was gone. “Things went suspiciously smoothly.”

“How so?”

“We seized enough evidence to guarantee the organization leader’s death sentence, arrested a large group without letting a single one escape.”

“All their hideouts were raided. We even captured Song Lian.”

Ling Xi frowned upon hearing this.

This wasn’t part of their projections.

Today’s operation was supposed to be minor—merely a prelude. Someone of Song Lian’s caliber shouldn’t have been caught.

“Did the plan get leaked at some point?”

Tan Nijun sighed. “That’s what I’ve been wondering too. But apart from me, Yun Fengzhi, and our direct superior, no one else knew the mission details.”

“Then the opposition must have anticipated it.” Song Yi, listening nearby, interjected.

As the tactical advisor for the operation against the Tiancan Organization, Tan Nijun was curious about her reasoning.

“I clashed with Song Lian not long ago. Perhaps since then, she’s been secretly preparing this contingency plan behind Mu Xunzhi’s back—sacrificing these assets to protect the core operations and Mu Xunzhi herself. What’s the highest numbered reagent signal in the evidence you collected?”

Tan Nijun checked the records. The team had already completed the mission and were resting at headquarters.

Beside her, Yun Fengzhi was wiping sweat and changing clothes, his heartbeat still racing from the adrenaline.

Tan Nijun kept her gaze professional. “We’ve got up to Theta.”

“Then I’m afraid you haven’t reached the core yet.” Theta was only the eighth in sequence.

The Gamma reagents were discovered at least five years ago.

It took them five years to develop just five types of medication—Song Yi would somewhat look down on this organization.

“Anyway, capturing Song Lian will make things easier. Tomorrow we’ll interrogate her and hopefully get some useful information.”

After hanging up, Ling Xi was still somewhat dazed.

“Is the matter with the Tiancan Organization… over just like that?” Her expression was vacant, not just from exhaustion.

“I’m afraid it’s not that simple. Even with Mom’s intel, and Song Lian and Mu Xunzhi frequently making public appearances lately, finding their weak points shouldn’t be hard. But…”

Song Yi shook her head. “It’s just a gut feeling. I need to keep an eye on the media to prevent any sensationalism.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Ling Xi also had a bad premonition.

But with this matter temporarily settled, she and Song Yi returned to their room.

Qi Zhen also urged Ling Yue to take her “girlfriend” upstairs.

The next morning, Qi Zhen received an anonymous message.

She opened it and saw Ling Jingqiu lying in a hospital bed.

The glass in Qi Zhen’s hand fell to the floor and shattered.

“Mom? Mom? What’s wrong?” Hearing the noise, Ling Xi followed Song Yi downstairs and saw Qi Zhen standing frozen amidst the broken glass.

“Did you assign bodyguards to Jingqiu?” Seeing Song Yi, Qi Zhen didn’t even care about stepping on the glass—she rushed forward.

“Yes. Wait a moment.” Seeing Qi Zhen like this, Song Yi guessed something had happened to Ling Jingqiu.

She called the bodyguards assigned to protect Ling Jingqiu, but no one answered.

Watching their reactions, Ling Xi’s heart sank.

“Mom, what happened?” Ling Xi quickly pulled Qi Zhen away from the glass shards.

Qi Zhen showed her phone.

Song Yi took out her walkie-talkie. Though the call didn’t go through, she managed to locate the bodyguards’ positions.

She looked up and was startled by the image sent from the unknown number on Qi Zhen’s phone.

In the corner of the photo, lying on the ground, were unmistakably the bodyguards she had sent.

And according to the tracking, all four red dots were inside the hospital.

“This is bad…” Without caring about appearances, Song Yi grabbed her bag and prepared to leave.

“Wait, sis! I’m coming too.” Ling Xi ran a few steps, then turned back to look at Qi Zhen.

“Mom, don’t worry. Stay home. We’ll bring Mommy back.” With that, she hurried after Song Yi.

“Sweetheart… I really think it’s better if you don’t come.” Song Yi tried to dissuade her while changing shoes.

“Because it’s dangerous? But sis, if you go alone, do you think I won’t worry about your safety?” Ling Xi firmly gripped Song Yi’s sleeve.

In this whole mess, she was the only one who couldn’t do anything.

Because she was young, because she knew too little.

Because everyone protected her.

But she didn’t want to stay like this anymore.

“If there really is trouble, I can face it with you. Like using pheromones to disrupt the enemy. Two heads are better than one, right?”

Song Yi’s heart ached with conflict.

She didn’t have time to waste and wanted to push Ling Xi back home.

But Ling Xi clung tightly to her arm. “Let’s go, sis. We can’t afford to waste time.”

Song Yi closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“If we really run into danger, don’t worry about me.” It was as good as accepting Ling Xi’s decision.

Ling Xi pinched her. “Do you really think that’s possible?”

Song Yi looked at her and saw a determined fire in those eyes, filled with unwavering love.

“I get it… Sweetheart, I’m just scared.”

The two got into the car, with Lingxi still trying to calm Song Yi’s nerves.

“What are you afraid of when I’m not even scared? Mu Xunzhi sent that message to my mom, right? She must have something to say to her. Otherwise, she would’ve just acted directly—why go through the extra trouble? If she has something to say, she won’t kill her outright.”

“Then I’ll ask Tan Nijing…” Lingxi also relaxed a little. Knowing her mother’s whereabouts made things much simpler.

Song Yi stopped her. “In situations like this, involving Yun Fengzhi and the others isn’t the best solution.”

What followed was Lingxi witnessing Song Yi’s absurdly extensive connections.

With just one call from Song Yi, the highways out of Yanjing were temporarily slowed down.

Even though it was rush hour, the number of people entering or leaving the city wasn’t high, so the impact was minimal.

But it effectively prevented Mu Xunzhi from escaping with Ling Jingqiu.

Another call from Song Yi, and the surveillance footage from that stretch of road was instantly synced to her device.

Lingxi then focused intently on analyzing the footage, trying to identify the vehicle carrying her mother.

“Sis… what would we do without you?” she murmured in admiration.

“It’s nothing. We’re family. I’m also helping my past self.”

Helping the powerless version of herself who could only watch as her mother suffered, pulling herself out of the shadows.

Mu Xie gave a bitter smile. “This is how my mother taught me. The people who bullied me also demonstrated it firsthand. Besides, even if love is forced… isn’t it still love?”

At this point, Mu Xie still couldn’t understand Lingxi’s perspective.

Lingxi locked eyes with her for a moment before sighing.

There was nothing more to say to someone who believed imprisonment was a form of love.

“I have nothing left to say.” Mu Xie had been sentenced to over a decade. Who knew if she’d even survive it?

“Wait. I still have something to ask you.”

Lingxi paused.

“You… why did you hide your pheromone level?” Mu Xie pressed against the window.

“Sit down!” the guard barked. Reluctantly, Mu Xie complied.

“What hiding?”

“Your pheromone level. You’re clearly an S-rank, so why pretend to be a B-rank inferior? What drugs did you use? Did your mother give them to you? I know she used to work under Mu Xunzhi.”

Lingxi turned, staring at Mu Xie in shock before enunciating each word clearly.

“I didn’t hide anything. Until recently, I genuinely thought I was a B-rank inferior. Only later did I find out that my mother had given me suppressants to keep my level at B-rank inferior so I wouldn’t be taken for experiments by people like you.”

“Found it. This is the one—I can see the hospital gown.” Lingxi screenshotted the image and sent it to Song Yi.

“Got it. I’ll have someone slow them down first, then pull them over for a traffic violation.”

With that handled, Lingxi finally had a moment to call Ling Yue.

Her phone was already flooded with dozens of missed calls.

“Hey sis, I was busy earlier. We’ve located Mom and are handling it,” Lingxi cut in before Ling Yue could start lecturing.

“…Fine. Mom just got another call. I told her not to answer, but the sender followed up with a second photo. Sent it to you—see if it helps.”

Lingxi hung up and opened the image Ling Yue had sent. It was the same vehicle she had identified earlier.

Seeing her mother lying in the trunk made Lingxi’s heart ache. She wished she could fly to her side immediately and drag Mu Xunzhi away.

Ling Xi studied the photo again.

“Sis…do you think Mu Jie followed them?”

She didn’t see anyone in the passenger seat.

Song Yi frowned. “You make a good point. I’m afraid this might be a diversion. I did instruct the media in advance, but…”

Ling Xi understood her meaning. Such things were impossible to completely guard against.

In the end, they might really have to let Mu Xunzhi succeed—pushing Mu Jie, that pristine heir, into the spotlight.

At this very moment.

In a central square in Beijing.

Mu Jie clutched her speech draft, her gaze dull and unfocused, as if she were being controlled by someone.

She looked exhausted and humiliated, yet she had no choice but to pick up the microphone beside her and start the live broadcast.

Following the instructions Mu Xunzhi and Song Lian had given her earlier, she began her speech for the day.