Chapter 1: The Boss And Her White Little Lotus
Milky white lights sloped softly down onto the sofa, tracing the curves of a woman who seemed almost sculpted from porcelain. Her body was graceful, every line fluid yet deliberate, a subtle promise of elegance and power.
Long, dark hair spilled like a waterfall over the side of her fair neck, brushing her shoulder, falling over the sofa cushion in silky cascades. The golden peach - pink skirt she wore clung delicately to her skin, soft and warm, shimmering faintly in the cold light, as though the fabric itself had been spun from sunlight and shadow.
One slender wrist peeked out from the wide cuff, fragile enough to be held with a single hand, yet alive with tension. Her skin gleamed, moist and smooth like polished ceramic, catching the light in soft, intoxicating waves.
Yu Liuxue's brow furrowed as the flood of unfamiliar knowledge pressed against her mind, each fragment threatening to overwhelm her.
She curled slightly, subconsciously protecting herself, and her skirt slipped down toward the floor, exposing smooth, pale calves that glowed in the light. The room felt brighter for it, though her discomfort was subtle yet undeniable, like a ripple across still water.
The soft click of a door opening drew her attention. Footsteps approached, careful at first, then receding slightly as if the intruder was uncertain. Someone had noticed the woman on the sofa — someone who perhaps hadn't expected her to be in such a private, vulnerable position.
"System." Her voice was soft but firm, a low melody threaded with authority. Her calf dangled off the sofa carelessly, a silver chain coiled around her ankle jingling faintly with her movements.
Yu Liuxue's fingers toyed with the ribbon tied around her waist, rolling it between her delicate fingertips. Her round, pink toes flexed, pressing against the smoky - gray slippers at her side. With a languid, almost teasing stretch, she rose, dragging the slippers along the polished floor as she circled the room.
"What is the wish of the female supporting role this time?" she asked casually, voice smooth and teasing, carrying the faintest edge of challenge.
The reply came crisp, deliberate. "Prevent the heroine Lin Qingyin and Yao Yishu from being together."
Yu Liuxue paused mid - step, her golden eyes flickering with amusement, though she made it look like nothing had touched her. "I said… don't bother me with all the little things," she murmured, curling a strand of hair around her finger, eyes glinting with mock indifference.
The wish had been entrusted by Qing Wu, the only daughter of the Du family in Nancheng — though in this world, she was Yu Liuxue herself. The Du family had once been a powerhouse, rivaling the Yao family, and decades ago, their children had shared innocent promises of a shared future.
But time had a way of twisting fates. The Du family's glory had faded, while the Yao family's influence grew until it dominated the city like a shadow that stretched over every corner. Now, they sought to coerce Lin Qingyin, tempting her to sever her engagement with Yu Liuxue. There was no choice for the girl left behind — she had to submit to the currents of power and ambition.
Yu Liuxue let herself smile, the soft curve of her lips hinting at amusement, mischief, and a dangerous warmth all at once. She moved toward the window, letting the light paint her skin in delicate, almost ethereal hues.
The chain on her ankle jingled as she shifted, and she flexed her toes inside the slippers, each movement languid, deliberate, teasing. "Qing Wu," she said softly, letting her voice trail like silk through the quiet room, "you really think this will be easy?"
She turned slowly, letting the motion of her body be seen, felt. The shimmer of the skirt brushing against her thighs, the delicate arch of her neck, the subtle tilt of her head — every inch of her was a study in elegance, teasing the boundaries between control and vulnerability. "You know how fate works," she continued, a playful lilt threading her words, "it's never as simple as a wish, even one as… fragile as yours."
Her own voice sent a shiver down her spine as she imagined Qingyin somewhere in this city, her pale, delicate form unaware of the power Yu Liuxue now held. There was tension there, raw and electric — the unspoken thrill of proximity, the brush of potential intimacy that came from being in the same room, the same world. Even teasing herself with the thought made her pulse quicken.
Yu Liuxue allowed herself a slow step closer to where the "system" hovered, though she was acutely aware of her own presence in the room — the sway of her hips, the soft rustle of silk across skin, the faint scent of her perfume lingering in the air like a soft promise. She rolled the ribbon again between her fingers, letting it dangle over the edge of her palm as her toes flexed, playful, measured, precise.
Her mind flicked to Lin Qingyin — so delicate, so stubborn, so frustratingly unaware of how she affected the world around her.
The "voiceless" persona sometimes surfaced when Qingyin felt overwhelmed, but it was subtle, and Yu Liuxue knew exactly when and where it could appear without breaking the tension. That knowledge made the coming challenge… delicious.
"Do you really think she'll fall for your tricks?" she murmured, voice low and teasing. The light flickered across her skin as she shifted, a subtle lean toward the edge of the sofa making the motion graceful, provocative without effort.
The world seemed to narrow around her, focusing on the sway of her hair, the soft curve of her shoulders, the delicate shimmer of the golden skirt against pale skin. Every move was intentional, electric, a conversation in unspoken language — a teasing challenge, a flirtatious warning, a promise of subtle dominance that made the heart race.
Yu Liuxue let herself smile faintly at her own reflection in the window, imagining Qingyin's reaction if she could see her now. Would she blush? Would she flinch? The thought made her chest tighten, warm and light, a sensation she hadn't expected from this simple assignment.
The sensuality of the moment, the humor threaded with danger, was intoxicating — she let herself revel in it, allowing a slow stretch of her spine, a gentle arch of her back, the subtle swing of her hip that whispered of confidence and teasing charm.
The chain around her ankle jingled again as she shifted her weight, and she allowed a lazy glance toward the door as if checking for witnesses. "This… will be fun," she whispered, soft and low, yet carrying the faintest promise of dominance, mischief, and intimacy.
The room felt charged, alive with tension and quiet heat. The golden skirt shimmered against her skin as she moved with languid grace, teasing, playful, teasing, yet full of authority and feminine confidence.
Even in the quietest moments, there was electricity — between her thoughts, her body, and the unspoken future she intended to manipulate.
She sat back on the sofa again, letting the light fall over her as she crossed one leg over the other, chain softly jingling against her ankle.