[The Coffee Shop — September 16, 10:01 AM]
"Zhang Tingting."
Lin Feng said the name plainly, without hesitation or any attempt to hide it.
Both women went still.
Lin Weiwei's eyes narrowed first, and her grip on his hand tightened as recognition flickered across her face. "Su Qingxue's lapdog?" Her voice sharpened with contempt. "The matchmaker?"
Xiao Yue's expression went flat and cold. "The one who helped you chase that woman for four years?"
For one brief moment, both women found themselves united in hostility toward this enabler of his wasted years.
"What does she want?" Lin Weiwei's voice cut sharp. "To set you up with another gold-digger?"
"Block her." Xiao Yue's tone left no room for discussion.
Lin Feng's thumb hovered over the screen, but before he could respond, Xiao Yue moved. She reached across and plucked the phone from his hand in one smooth motion, then placed it firmly on the table with the screen facing down—like she was disposing of something unpleasant.
Her eyes met his.
You came here for me. You are sitting here with me to be with me—not to send some texts from other women.
Her fingers curled around his wrist, and she leaned into him just slightly—close enough that the warmth of her shoulder pressed firm against his arm.
-------------------------
LinWeiwei's eyes narrowed as she watched Xiao Yue's move, tracking every detail—the way Xiao Yue's fingers curled around his wrist, the subtle press of her shoulder against his arm.
So that's how you want to play it, stalker.
The morning light filtered through the café windows, catching the steam rising from abandoned coffee cups. Around them, phones were still angled in their direction, and she could feel the weight of curious stares pressing in from every corner of the shop.
This woman… This stalker… she thinks she could monopolize Big Brother's attention? In front of me?
Just because Big Brother was kind enough to bring her food like she is some dog!
Hmm… If you think you can get your way with him...
No! No way. Not a chance in hell.
Lin Weiwei's hand began to move—slowly, deliberately—sliding up from where it rested on his stomach. She felt the warmth of him through the fabric of his shirt as her palm traveled higher, finally flattening over his heart.
The beat pulsed steady and strong beneath her touch, and something in her chest tightened.
She leaned in closer until her breath ghosted warm against his neck, her lips hovering just shy of his ear.
"Big Brother..."
The words came out barely above a whisper, soft enough that he had to tilt his head toward her—but loud enough for Xiao Yue to hear every syllable.
Forget the phone. Forget that matchmaker. Forget this stalker beside you. Just focus on me.
Just Weiwei.
Across from her, a muscle feathered in Xiao Yue's jaw.
You think you can steal this moment from me?
She'd waited five years for this. Five years of watching from the shadows, of memorizing his schedule and learning his habits, of loving him from a distance while he chased a woman who didn't deserve him.
And now this stepsister—this woman who'd had daily access to him all along, who'd slept under the same roof and shared meals at the same table—thought she could swoop in and take everything?
The coffee machine hissed behind the counter, and somewhere a spoon clinked against ceramic, but Xiao Yue barely registered any of it. Her focus had narrowed to the space between them, to the battle being waged in inches and whispers.
Her hand moved from his thigh, sliding higher into dangerous territory. She leaned in from the other side, matching Lin Weiwei's proximity inch for inch until her cheek nearly brushed against his.
"You came here for me." Xiao Yue's voice dropped low, her breath warm against his jaw. "Remember?"
Her fingers splayed across him, claiming space that Lin Weiwei hadn't dared to touch yet. Not quite inappropriate, but close—so close that one wrong shift would cross every line of public decency.
-------------------------
Lin Weiwei's hand slid higher on his chest, her thumb tracing his collarbone through the fabric of his shirt—light, teasing, deliberate.
Xiao Yue matched her without hesitation, pressing closer until her grip on his other hand tightened and her knuckles went white.
Both women were whispering now, their voices barely audible beneath the soft jazz playing from the speakers. The other customers had given up any pretense of minding their own business—phones were out, conversations had stopped, and every eye in the café was fixed on the corner table.
"You promised me..." Lin Weiwei breathed against his neck.
Her thumb continued its slow trace along his collarbone as she leaned in closer, her lips barely brushing his ear.
"Last night. The confession. The forgiveness. Your lips on my forehead. On my lips." Her voice dropped even lower, warm and intimate. "That it's okay that we'd be together..."
"Lin Feng, do you remember what we had yesterday?" Xiao Yue whispered from the other side, her lips brushing against his jaw.
Her fingers splayed across his thigh as she pressed closer, her breath warm against his skin.
"The park bench. 'You're mine, Lin Feng. Mine alone.'" She let the words hang between them. "You didn't say no. You didn't deny me. Your hands even found my waist on their own..."
Neither woman backed down, and neither yielded so much as an inch.
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Lin Feng couldn't think.
He was trapped between two bodies, both pressed against him from either side. Hands everywhere, warmth everywhere, the scent of jasmine and vanilla mixing together until he couldn't tell where one woman ended and the other began.
His training didn't cover this.
He'd resisted interrogation. He'd maintained cover under torture. He'd kept his composure with a gun pressed to his temple.
But with two beauties of this caliber waging a war of seduction across his body?
I'm losing this battle.
He could feel the weight of stares from every direction, could hear the hushed whispers rippling through the café, could see phones appearing in his peripheral vision. This was getting out of control—in public, no less.
Just like the park bench yesterday. He couldn't resist Xiao Yue then either. These women did something to him that enemy operatives never could.
They bypassed every defense he had.
I need an exit. I need—
The phone buzzed on the table. Then buzzed again, and again, multiple messages flooding in one after another.
Both women glanced at it with irritation—another interruption, another obstacle.
But Lin Feng? Lin Feng lunged for it.
He grabbed that phone like a drowning man seizing a lifeline, pulling it to his face before either woman could stop him.
Zhang Tingting.
You absolute legend. My true friend.
"Wait—" He held up the screen, creating precious space between himself and both women. "Let me read what she is about to say."
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Both women pulled back—slightly, reluctantly.
Lin Weiwei's fingers curled against his chest, her jaw tight.
I was so close. Just a little bit more and I could have shown this bitch who Lin Feng wants more. And now—
Xiao Yue's grip on his thigh tensed, her breath shallow.
He was responding to me. I could feel it. Just like on that bench. And some text ruined it.
But they looked. And read.
[Zhang Tingting: I know this is random but are you free?]
[Zhang Tingting: Something's wrong with Qingxue. She won't stop talking about some guy named Long Tian]
[Zhang Tingting: Like NONSTOP. How amazing he is. How they're meant to be together]
[Zhang Tingting: She said you're nothing compared to him. Her words not mine btw]
[Zhang Tingting: I went to my cousin Yuting's place to get away from it]
[Zhang Tingting: She's saying the EXACT SAME THINGS about the same guy]
[Zhang Tingting: Please call or text me when you can]
The phone buzzed again in his hand, message after message flooding the screen before he could finish reading.
[Zhang Tingting: Sorry I know that was a lot]
[Zhang Tingting: But Qingxue kept saying "we're destined" and "the moment I saw him I knew"]
[Zhang Tingting: She met him ONCE. One time.]
[Zhang Tingting: Then Yuting says the exact same thing. "Soulmates." "He understands me like no one else."]
[Zhang Tingting: They've never even talked to each other but it's like they're reading from the same script]
[Zhang Tingting: And when I asked questions they just smiled. This creepy empty smile]
[Zhang Tingting: Like I was the crazy one for noticing]
[Zhang Tingting: I'm at a motel near east gate. I couldn't sleep. My family keeps pushing me to meet him too]
[Zhang Tingting: Am I going crazy?]
[Zhang Tingting: Please tell me I'm not going crazy]
Silence settled over the corner table.
Both women stared at the screen, and Lin Feng watched their expressions shift in real time—the annoyance fading first, replaced by confusion, and then something colder crept in beneath it. Something sharper.
Lin Weiwei's hand went still on his chest. Xiao Yue's grip on his thigh loosened.
The tension between them didn't disappear, but it changed. Redirected.
-------------------------
Lin Weiwei's anger changed targets mid-breath.
"That bitch—" She stopped, jaw working as she recalibrated. "Su Qingxue said Big Brother is nothing compared to some random man?"
Her voice rose with each word, sharp and furious, and the customers nearest to them glanced over with renewed interest.
Xiao Yue's grip on Lin Feng's hand tightened until her knuckles went white. "After four years." Her voice came out cold and flat—dangerous. "After everything he did for her, she throws him away and insults him?"
"He was always there for her." Lin Weiwei's hand pressed harder against his chest, almost painful now. "Every time she needed something. Every time she called. Four years of devotion, and this is how she repays him?"
"And she throws him away for someone she met once?"
"Once." Xiao Yue repeated the word like it tasted rotten in her mouth. "One conversation and suddenly he's better than someone who gave her four years?"
The fury radiating from both women was raw and genuine—some insults transcended rivalry.
But suspicion followed close behind.
Lin Weiwei read the messages again, her eyes narrowing as she scrolled back through the flood of texts.
"Why is she telling you this?" Her voice shifted, sharper now, calculating. "What does she want from you?"
Xiao Yue leaned back slightly, her own doubt surfacing. "Is this a trap? Some scheme from Su Qingxue to get you back?"
Both women stared at Lin Feng, demanding answers. The matchmaker suddenly turning informant? The woman who'd enabled four years of humiliation now offering warnings?
Lin Feng met their gazes calmly.
He gestured at the phone, still clutched in his hand.
"Look at these messages. Two different people, word for word, obsessing over the same guy. Whatever's happening, she noticed it—and instead of defending her best friend, she came to me."
He paused, his expression unreadable.
"That's either genuine confusion... or a very elaborate trap."
And I need to find out which.
"Either way," he continued, meeting their gazes, "I need to hear what she knows. If Su Qingxue is planning something, Zhang Tingting might have information worth having."
Both women considered this. Lin Weiwei's fingers drummed once against his chest, and Xiao Yue's eyes flicked back to the phone screen, scanning the messages again.
The suspicion didn't leave their faces entirely—but something else crept in alongside it. Curiosity, maybe. Or calculation.
Lin Feng slipped the phone back into his pocket.
We'll see what she has to say.
-------------------------
While both women processed their fury, Lin Feng's mind worked on a different level entirely.
First things first—she saved me.
Whatever had been about to happen on this couch, hands wandering into dangerous territory in a public café, her messages had cut through it like a blade. A perfectly timed interruption.
Thank you, Zhang Tingting. Seriously.
Second—she just handed me intelligence. Whether she meant to or not.
Long Tian's movements. His influence spreading. His targets. Su Qingxue obsessed, Zhang Yuting obsessed, both exhibiting identical behavior patterns. She'd given him all of this without being asked, without knowing why it mattered.
That's useful. Very useful.
Third—she noticed something was wrong.
Zhang Tingting didn't know about the system. She had no framework for protagonist mechanics, no idea that Long Tian was anything other than some random freshman. But she saw the pattern anyway—her mind recognized the structure even without context to explain it.
That's... interesting.
His fingers stilled against his thigh.
Hold on.
Zhang Tingting is Heroine #18. One-star. She's supposed to end up with Long Tian eventually.
Yet she's here. Warning me. Providing intelligence. Working against the protagonist's interests.
Why?
Why do some heroines follow the script perfectly while others don't?
Su Qingxue met Long Tian once—one conversation—and now she was obsessed. Exactly like the novel predicted. But Zhang Tingting was a heroine too, and she should be falling in line just the same.
And then there were Lin Weiwei and Xiao Yue. Both seven-star heroines. Both supposed to be Long Tian's ultimate prizes.
Both treating Lin Feng like he was the protagonist instead.
Three different heroines. Three completely different behaviors. All supposedly destined for the same man.
This isn't random. There's a pattern here.
A pattern I don't understand yet.
His jaw tightened.
What if there are hidden mechanics? Rules beyond what the novel showed?
The novel covered ten thousand chapters, but it focused entirely on Long Tian's perspective—his victories, his conquests, his ever-expanding harem. What if there were variables the author never explained? Mechanics that operated in the background? Things the protagonist never needed to know because they never affected him?
I'm operating with incomplete intelligence.
And that's the most dangerous position of all.
He exhaled slowly through his nose.
Still... there's no way she could have made all that up. The panic in those messages was real. The details too specific, too strange to fabricate.
And she didn't behave like this in the novel. Not even close.
In the original story, Zhang Tingting eventually fell to Long Tian like all the others. Slower than most, yes—her conquest took longer than even some four-star heroines—but she fell nonetheless.
So why is she resisting now? Why is she coming to me instead of falling in line?
His eyes dropped back to the phone in his hand.
She's valuable. An asset worth protecting.
But...
He remembered the original Lin Feng's fate. How Long Tian had used Su Qingxue as bait, leveraging the villain's obsession to lure him into a death trap. The original had walked right into it, blinded by years of desperate longing.
That's how protagonists work. They turn your attachments into weapons.
Zhang Tingting could be genuine. She probably is.
But "probably" isn't "definitely."
Okay. For now, I'll keep her close. Keep her safe.
But I'll always keep an eye on her.
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"How DARE she."
Xiao Yue's voice went cold and flat—the kind of flat that preceded violence.
"How DARE Su Qingxue say Lin Feng is nothing compared to some random guy."
Lin Weiwei nodded sharply, her nails digging into the fabric of his shirt. "She needs to learn what happens when you insult my Lin Feng."
"No." Xiao Yue's correction was automatic, instant. "My Lin Feng."
They glared at each other across his chest, brief and intense.
Then both turned back to look at him, and for a moment the rivalry between them faded into something else entirely—a shared fury that burned hotter than their jealousy.
"This Long Tian person..." Lin Weiwei's lip curled with undisguised venom.
"Why does hearing that name make me feel disgusted?" Xiao Yue's nose wrinkled like she'd caught a whiff of something rotten. "Like I feel like I don't want to be close to this guy. Like I don't even want to touch him even with a ten-foot pole."
"Who dares say my Big Brother is nothing compared to him?" Lin Weiwei's voice dropped low and dangerous. "Is he tired of living?"
Lin Feng watched them both—the way Xiao Yue's lip curled at the mere mention of Long Tian's name, the way Lin Weiwei's fingers had tightened on his shirt like she was ready to fight someone on his behalf.
That's strange.
They've never met him. Never even seen his face. But the moment his name comes up, they react like he's something foul.
Weiwei and Xiao Yue are both seven-star heroines. The highest tier. Long Tian's supposed ultimate prizes in the original story.
So why do they look like they'd rather spit on him than stand in the same room?
He thought back to the novel's ending—at least, the ending for the original Lin Feng.
When the original Lin Feng died, these two didn't run to Long Tian's arms. They didn't become part of his harem like the script said they should.
They killed themselves.
Both of them. The moment he was gone.
Two seven-star heroines, supposedly destined for the protagonist, chose death over a life with him.
He filed the observation away alongside everything else he didn't understand yet.
There's something here. Something about how this world works that the novel never explained.
Something the author either didn't know... or didn't want to write.
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Lin Feng typed quickly.
[Lin Feng: I'm at the coffee shop across from the Lin estate. Can you meet me here?]
Sent.
"You're inviting her here?"
Lin Weiwei's voice cut sharp, and her grip on his arm tightened. This was Xiao Yue's territory—and now another woman was being summoned to it?
Xiao Yue's jaw tightened beside him. Her coffee shop. Her space. The place she'd claimed every morning for five years. And now it was being invaded by yet another woman.
"I need to understand what's happening." Lin Feng kept his voice calm, measured. "Who this Long Tian person is, and Zhang Tingting might have useful information."
He met both their gazes in turn.
"This man is suspicious. I need to know more."
The phone buzzed in his hand.
[Zhang Tingting: I can be there by 11. Is that okay?]
He typed back.
[Lin Feng: That's fine. I'll be here.]
One hour to wait.
Both women exchanged glances across his body, and Lin Feng could practically feel the calculations running behind their eyes. Neither wanted Zhang Tingting here. Neither wanted to share his attention with yet another woman.
But neither was willing to leave him alone with her, either.
"We're staying." Xiao Yue's tone left no room for argument.
"Obviously." Lin Weiwei's agreement was instant.
They turned back to glare at each other—rivals once more, the brief alliance against Su Qingxue already fraying at the edges.
The temporary ceasefire held.
Barely.
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Xiao Yue ate the last of her breakfast slowly, savoring each bite despite everything that had happened.
The congee had gone lukewarm, and the steam no longer rose from the bowl, but she didn't care. Around her, the café had settled back into its usual morning rhythm—the hiss of the espresso machine, the murmur of conversations, the soft clink of cups against saucers.
Her fingers traced the edge of the lunchbox as she remembered yesterday. The park bench. The way the afternoon light had filtered through the trees as she pressed herself against him.
"No matter what happens tonight... You're mine, Lin Feng. Mine alone."
She'd warned him. She'd seen the way Lin Weiwei, this incestuous whore, looked at him—the calculating glint, the too-casual touches, the smile that never quite reached her eyes.
And last night, as expected, Lin Weiwei made her move.
Xiao Yue's gaze drifted to the marks on Lin Feng's neck, and her chopsticks stilled against the ceramic. Purple and red, scattered across his skin like a constellation of claims. She'd heard about the engagement announcement through her networks, knew they'd shared a bed.
Her jaw tightened, and she forced herself to take a slow breath through her nose.
Weiwei won the battle of September 15th.
But not the war.
Because Lin Feng was here. Right now. The morning after Lin Weiwei's supposed victory, sitting beside her in her coffee shop, his shoulder warm against hers.
He still made her breakfast. Still walked across the street. Still brought her food with his own hands.
If Weiwei had truly conquered him, he wouldn't have come at all.
But he did.
She took another slow bite, and the corners of her lips curved upward just slightly.
The fight isn't over. Not even close.
And I will win this fight.
No matter the cost.
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Lin Weiwei's fingers drummed once against Lin Feng's chest as she watched Xiao Yue take another bite of congee.
The breakfast delivery. The stalking knowledge contest. This coffee shop.
Fine. I'll let her have those.
Her gaze lingered on the lunchbox in Xiao Yue's lap, on the way that woman savored every bite like it was some kind of victory.
Those weren't real wins.
She remembered the footage from yesterday—still vivid in her mind, burned there like a brand. This Xiao Yue, this stalker bitch, on that park bench with her Big Brother. Hands on his waist. Body pressed against him. That possessive declaration she'd replayed a dozen times through her surveillance feed.
"You're mine, Lin Feng. Mine alone."
Lin Weiwei's nails pressed crescents into her palm beneath the table.
She'd watched that footage in her room, alone, her jaw aching from how hard she'd clenched it. And then she'd made her move.
Last night was her answer.
The confession. The forgiveness. The marks she'd left scattered across his neck—her own declaration written in bruises, kiss-marks, for everyone to see. The engagement that Lin Qingwan had formalized over breakfast.
Her hand flattened against Lin Feng's chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her palm.
I have the proximity. Same house. Same hallways. Every day. Every night.
I have the title. I'm the fiancée now. The future wife.
I have him.
She glanced at Xiao Yue across Lin Feng's body, watching the other woman's chopsticks scrape the bottom of the lunchbox.
Watch from your coffee shop all you want, you stalker bitch. Memorize his schedule. Count the seconds until he walks by.
At the end of every day, I'm the one who goes home with him.
I'm the one who'll wake up beside him.
The corner of Lin Weiwei's lip curled upward, just slightly.
This isn't over. Not even close.
But I'm winning.
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Lin Feng stared at the ceiling, feeling the warmth of both women pressed against his sides.
There are only a few things about heroines.
Their name. Their star rating. Their stories. And their affection points.
That's it.
He still didn't fully understand what the affection number meant. The system hadn't come with a manual. No explanations, no tooltips, no helpful tutorials.
Just raw data with no context.
Weiwei and Xiao Yue both show -99.
Every other heroine I've checked has been positive. Some high, some low, but all positive.
These two are the only negatives.
He glanced down at Lin Weiwei's hand on his chest, then at Xiao Yue's fingers intertwined with his.
And these two are the only ones acting like... this.
Is that related? Does the negative number mean something?
Or am I just seeing patterns that aren't there?
He exhaled slowly through his nose.
I don't have enough information. I don't even know what questions to ask.
The café hummed around them. Normal sounds, normal people, normal lives.
Something doesn't add up.
But I don't know what.
Lin Feng sighed and let his head fall back against the couch.
Long Tian has his protagonist system. Quests, rewards, abilities, a whole framework handed to him on a silver platter.
Meanwhile I'm stuck trying to piece together scraps of data like some caveman staring at fire.
Would it have killed whoever runs this world to give the villain a system too?
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[END OF CHAPTER 24]