You Should’ve Said Earlier that you’re Such a Little Flirt! - Chapter 10
But the moment she turned around, the thought flashed by and vanished; Xu Qingqiong began to doubt if it had just been her imagination.
Lin Konglu showed nothing. She stared straight ahead with a cold expression, her face unreadable.
The reading light in the car wasn’t on. In the dimness, Xu Qingqiong stared at Lin Konglu’s profile, but she could only make out a blurred outline.
Feeling restless, she turned her head away and began to fiddle with her phone absentmindedly.
After arriving home, Lin Konglu went straight into the bathroom to shower without saying a single word.
Xu Qingqiong stared at the bathroom door, feeling an unnatural sense of awkwardness.
Lin Konglu already had the “iceberg” face of someone who seemed perpetually uninterested, but now that she was angry, she didn’t say a word—she just radiated a freezing aura that was enough to kill a person.
Humans have a natural instinct to seek pleasure and avoid pain.
A few days ago, Xu Qingqiong had ordered a set of live-streaming equipment. It just so happened that the property management called to ask if she wanted it delivered upstairs. After thinking it over, she decided to start a stream tonight.
The study was quiet and the computer specs were better there, but it was filled with company documents. Although Lin Konglu had never told her she couldn’t use it, Xu Qingqiong consciously kept her distance and had almost never stepped foot inside.
Just because Lin Konglu didn’t say anything didn’t mean she wouldn’t mind.
It was better to keep their relationship clearly defined and maintain a sense of boundaries.
Xu Qingqiong carried her things to the guest room alone. There was a computer there, too. She set up the equipment, logged into her account, and started the stream.
Her streaming ID was: Very Poor Today.
It fit the “spiritual state” of modern young people perfectly.
As soon as she went live, many fans flooded in.
She waited for a while, starting with a small casual game. About ten minutes later, the traffic was already quite high.
After one round, some fans began clamoring for her to turn on her camera and show her face.
Xu Qingqiong briskly turned on the camera and adjusted it to focus on her face.
The air conditioning made her skin feel chilly. Xu Qingqiong rubbed her arms and sighed.
Someone asked if she had moved, noticing the background had changed.
Xu Qingqiong stared at the screen and gave a casual “mm-hmm.” “I moved back to the country.”
She had disappeared for nearly three months this time. Many viewers jokingly asked why she hadn’t streamed in so long—had she secretly gone off to get married behind their backs?
This was a long-running joke in Xu Qingqiong’s stream. It started when she first began streaming and was matched in a game with a male streamer who acted as if he had a “shriveled brain.”
They were teammates. The start went well, and their cooperation was smooth enough.
However, Xu Qingqiong’s skills were better, her damage output was higher, and naturally, her end-game rating was higher than his.
The male streamer started nitpicking. One moment he said her positioning wasn’t good enough; the next, he accused her of using hacks.
Finally, he lost his cool completely. Dropping the act, he sneered passive-aggressively that women shouldn’t be playing games and should go get married instead.
Xu Qingqiong didn’t argue back at all. During the final round when they were about to win and the male streamer was triumphantly preparing to celebrate, Xu Qingqiong turned her gun on him. She riddled him with bullets right there, grinding him into the dirt while mocking him: “What’s a man like you doing playing games? Hurry home and go cook and do the laundry.”
That clip was edited with captions and became a viral video.
Over time, it became a meme in her chat. Whenever Xu Qingqiong took a break from streaming, they would jokingly ask if she was off getting married.
Xu Qingqiong glanced at the chat and said, “Yeah, I’ve been busy getting married lately.”
“Why would I lie? It’s true.”
“Is she pretty? You want to see her?” Xu Qingqiong chuckled. She propped her elbows on the desk, cupping her face in her hands, and teased, “She’s exceptionally beautiful. But what does that have to do with you? Why should I show you? Not happening.”
“If you have a wife to cuddle, why are you streaming at night?”
Thinking about tonight’s events, Xu Qingqiong dazed off for a moment. She sighed and said, half-truthfully, “I made her angry and got kicked out. I have to sleep in the guest room today.”
The bullet comments erupted in “Hahaha.” No one took her words seriously.
This was mainly because Xu Qingqiong had a “track record.” When she streamed, she usually spoke with three parts truth and seven parts jest, mostly to liven up the atmosphere.
At that moment, a comment floated across the screen, jokingly offering advice: “If there’s a problem, you need to apologize and make up quickly.”
Xu Qingqiong caught that comment and thought to herself: That’s a great idea, but I have no idea how I upset Lin Konglu.
Maybe she should just sleep in the guest room tonight and let Lin Konglu be alone for a bit to cool off?
Decision made. While thinking, Xu Qingqiong started a new game.
When she first started streaming, she played an FPS (First-Person Shooter). There were relatively few female players in this genre, and even fewer high-level streamers.
When she played, she rarely spoke. She didn’t swear and remained incredibly calm. Compared to the top-tier pros, she wasn’t purely a “technical” player, but she had a very distinct style.
Her shooting and movement were fast, accurate, and ruthless. Every move was crisp and full of charisma.
After a few more casual remarks, Xu Qingqiong stopped talking. She put on her headphones, stared calmly at the screen, and the game began.
She was always fully focused when playing. As the game reached its tense, high-stakes final stages, she completely ignored her surroundings.
She was so immersed that when the knocking on the door sounded—
“There should be someone in these bushes, everyone watch closely…”
A comment flashed: “It’s over, it’s over! Does the streamer live alone?”
What was “over”? Xu Qingqiong glanced at it but didn’t take it to heart.
After an unknown amount of time, Xu Qingqiong cleanly shot down the last player. The game ended, and the victory settlement screen appeared. Only then did she finally sense the atmosphere was off. She turned around and jumped in fright.
Lin Konglu was standing right behind her. Her voice was cold, suppressing some emotion. “Still not sleeping? You really want to sleep in the guest room?”
“…” Xu Qingqiong patted her chest, still shaken. Hearing this, she froze. Her first instinct was to ask, “How did you know? Were you secretly watching my stream?”
She had clearly made up her mind to sleep in the guest room, but with the words at the tip of her tongue, she inexplicably lost her nerve. It turned into: “…I’m coming now.”
As a result of those two sentences, the bullet comments exploded like a dynamited fish pond, scrolling past at lightning speed. Moreover, these netizens were particularly mischievous:
“It’s real?! I thought the streamer was lying.”
“Unfollowed. The streamer doesn’t value the lives of her viewers at all, actually feeding us dog food! (munch munch munch).”
“The person above is right! You have a partner and didn’t tell us beforehand! I’m disappointed! Unfollowed! P.S. Give me a handful of that dog food too.”
Just then, Lin Konglu leaned in to glance at the screen.
The comments became even more frantic—
“Holy crap! The ‘family member’ is here!”
“Reporting to the family member: please don’t be angry! Our Little Poor is about to strip down and warm the bed to apologize!”
“The voice sounds like a dominant older sister (Yujie). Holy crap! Little Poor is finished! She’s gonna get scolded! Teehee.”
Xu Qingqiong: “…” What is this mess!
Xu Qingqiong made a move to cover the screen, but the screen was so large that covering it was futile.
In a moment of desperation, she stood up abruptly and covered Lin Konglu’s eyes with both hands, whispering urgently: “Don’t look, don’t look…”
No reaction?
She immediately made a decisive move to soften her tone, pleading: “Please.”
The air felt momentarily still and thick. Xu Qingqiong was half-hugging her from behind, their bodies pressed firmly together. Her soft breath fell continuously against Lin Konglu’s ear.
“…” Lin Konglu bit her lip, struggling to restrain herself and her emotions.
Xu Qingqiong was oblivious; in any other situation, she might have noticed how stiff Lin Konglu’s body had become.
Lin Konglu braced her fingers against the edge of the desk. Her voice was somewhat muffled and husky, yet she lowered Xu Qingqiong’s hands with feigned composure. “I’ll wait for you in the bedroom.”
After she left, Xu Qingqiong quickly ended the stream and shut down the computer. She checked to make sure Lin Konglu hadn’t shown her face. Feeling a bit more relieved, she sat in the chair and thought with zero confidence: I moved pretty fast; Lin Konglu shouldn’t have seen those comments, right?
Even if she did… she probably didn’t see much?
This is seriously awkward.
How should she put it?
If she had to define her relationship with Lin Konglu, they were probably partners of convenience who each got what they needed…?
And now, to have her partner see those “off-color” teases… it was devastating.
After washing up and returning to the bedroom, Lin Konglu was leaning against the headboard, looking calm. Unusually, she was holding her phone, browsing through something unknown.
It wasn’t until Xu Qingqiong lay down that Lin Konglu turned off the screen and set the phone aside.
After the “accident,” Xu Qingqiong felt awkward. She lay silently in her spot, keeping her distance from Lin Konglu.
She prayed silently: She didn’t see it, she didn’t see it.
A few seconds later, her wish was shattered.
In the darkness, Lin Konglu suddenly spoke:
“Come over here.”
“Huh?”
“Didn’t you say you were going to warm the bed?”
“…” The weight in her heart finally dropped—to the floor. Xu Qingqiong felt so embarrassed she wanted to curl up into a ball and disappear.
She said sheepishly, “You saw that?”
Lin Konglu didn’t speak.
Xu Qingqiong felt even more awkward. She couldn’t gauge Lin Konglu’s attitude, and since Lin Konglu had seemed angry earlier, she silently shuffled toward her. She poked Lin Konglu’s waist and whispered:
“Hey, say something…”
Halfway through her sentence, she was forced into silence.
Lin Konglu suddenly grabbed her mischievous hand and kissed her.
Xu Qingqiong was used to her kisses by now and instinctively reached out to wrap her arms around Lin Konglu’s neck.
But she didn’t expect Lin Konglu to be so aggressive this time—she was very forceful and even bit her lip.
Xu Qingqiong whimpered softly, “It hurts, hurts…”
Lin Konglu paused for a moment and silently let go.
Sensing that Lin Konglu wasn’t that angry anymore, Xu Qingqiong wrapped herself in the quilt, rolled across the bed, and poked her head out. She suddenly asked with mock seriousness, “Little Puppy, what did you have for dinner tonight?”
Without waiting for Lin Konglu to answer, she lunged forward slightly, her arms perfectly circling Lin Konglu’s neck. Her fingertips lightly touched Lin Konglu’s nape, sliding down inch by inch as if counting her vertebrae. She answered her own question: “You must have eaten vegetarian again. Eating vegetarian every day makes people turn into ‘perverts’…”
Look at that, she almost bit my lip open.
Lin Konglu: “…”
The remark was meant to tease Lin Konglu for kissing her so fiercely just now—like a little dog treating her like a piece of meat to gnaw on.
Xu Qingqiong blinked, hugging her and looking back with an innocent face, intentionally teasing: “Am I wrong? Puppy, puppy, little puppy…”
Lin Konglu turned her head away, refusing to talk to her.
In the quiet atmosphere, Xu Qingqiong pressed against her chest and suddenly asked, “Are you still angry?”
Then, with a conflicted tone, she added: “And… you didn’t cry just now, did you?”