When The Harem Novel’s Heroine Meets The Tragic Heroine - Chapter 9

Bei Qiuqiu’s expression shifted.

This was a “wet-body” temptation she hadn’t calculated!

However, the great beauty standing opposite her remained completely unfazed, showing not the slightest sign of being seduced.

Bei Qiuqiu was confident enough to say that it definitely wasn’t a problem with her own charm.

Therefore, this was a “straight-as-an-arrow” girl…

And by the looks of it, the kind that was extremely difficult to bend.

Bei Qiuqiu felt a bit defeated.

Yu Qingling’s gaze moved from the dripping hem of the skirt to Bei Qiuqiu’s small face. Seeing her looking somewhat pale with misty eyes—the very picture of a pitiful creature—her heart softened inexplicably. “Come to my place and change your clothes.”

As the words left her mouth, she sighed inwardly. The girls in this world were just like the pampered noble ladies of the aristocratic families she once knew; they were all so fragile, like delicate flowers that couldn’t withstand the wind and rain and required meticulous care.

Thinking this, she held a navy blue umbrella in one hand and effortlessly lifted her bicycle with the other, leading the way.

Bei Qiuqiu followed closely behind, clutching her own transparent umbrella. She noticed that the rainwater had inevitably soaked Yu Qingling’s forearm as she carried the bike.

The white shirt sleeve became semi-transparent once wet, clinging to her skin. Beneath it, a thin layer of muscle flexed slightly as she exerted strength, making one’s heart skip a beat.

Bei Qiuqiu looked down at her own skirt clinging to her body.

Her mind uncontrollably wandered into wild thoughts: could this matching “wet-body” temptation count as wearing a couple’s outfit?

Yu Qingling lived in a one-bedroom apartment. It wasn’t large; standing in the center of the living room, one could see the entire place at a glance.

The quilt on the single bed was folded with sharp, neat corners. Though there were many belongings, everything was organized perfectly without a hint of clutter. The table was covered with snacks—boxes and bags stacked neatly together—giving the place a very lived-in atmosphere.

It was unlike its owner, who looked as though she didn’t consume the food of mere mortals.

Bei Qiuqiu pursed her lips to hide a secret smile. Today’s unexpected gain: she now knows her “Sister’s” specific address.

It was only after opening the wardrobe that Yu Qingling realized the problem: she didn’t own a single skirt.

Ever since she first met Bei Qiuqiu, the girl had always been dressed in various beautiful skirts.

Yu Qingling hesitated. She tried hard to recall if the noble ladies she once knew ever wore anything other than silks and satins. Bei Qiuqiu walked over with her hands behind her back, leaning her neck toward Yu Qingling and giggling as she tilted her head, letting her hair intentionally or unintentionally brush against the other woman’s shoulder. “I can tell from Sister’s wardrobe that you are a very devoted person.”

There were only two colors in the wardrobe—black and white—and the styles were nearly identical.

As the distance closed, Yu Qingling caught a faint fragrance from the girl’s hair. It was a very special, pleasant scent, unlike anything she had ever smelled before.

The light fragrance teased her for only a second. A second later, as the girl stood up straight, it vanished. Bei Qiuqiu reached out, picked a set of long clothes and trousers, held them up against herself to measure, and then happily headed to the bathroom.

Seeing that Bei Qiuqiu had no resistance to wearing her clothes, Yu Qingling breathed a slight sigh of relief and involuntarily drifted into memories of the past.

The noble ladies of her world were high-born but also inexplicably arrogant.

They were raised from childhood in secluded courtyards and grand manors. Even though Yu Qingling’s own father held a high position and she herself held military power at a young age, they looked down on her from the bottom of their hearts. They despised a female general like her who showed her face in public every day, frequently stayed among groups of men, and dressed in a manner that was neither male nor female.

Bei Qiuqiu looked just as fragile and in need of protection as the noble ladies of the Capital, yet she was different from those pampered, delicate girls.

Yu Qingling could not see even a hint of haughtiness or contempt in her eyes.

At this thought, the light in Yu Qingling’s eyes softened.

Bei Qiuqiu didn’t stay in the bathroom for long and soon emerged having changed.

Standing at the bathroom door, she asked the cold beauty sitting by the window, dazed: “Sister, do I look good in this?”

Yu Qingling blinked, looked over, and then her eyelids jumped.

It was clearly a set of clothes almost identical to the style she wore, yet the girl wore them with a completely different flavor.

Yu Qingling’s gaze landed on the girl’s open collar. Although the buttons weren’t fastened, the two sides of the collar overlapped, revealing only a faint line of skin. It made one want to pull the fabric—which rose and fell slightly with her breath—aside to see the scenery within.

Yu Qingling blinked rapidly, repenting for the sudden “hooligan” thoughts that had popped into her head. It must be because she spent too much time with those rough, burly male soldiers in the past; she had been influenced by them.

Bei Qiuqiu walked over and stood in front of Yu Qingling with a radiant smile, waving a hand in front of her eyes. “Sister? What are you thinking about? I think your clothes fit me quite well.”

As she spoke, she raised both arms to admire herself.

Directly in Yu Qingling’s line of sight, a section of a slender waist—small enough to be held in one hand—was revealed.

Only then did she realize that Bei Qiuqiu had, at some point, tied the hem of the white shirt into a pretty little knot. As long as she moved her arms even slightly, more or less of her waist would be exposed.