Chapter Fifty-Six: A Mouse in Qin Mengchun’s Bed

Song Qing’an emerged from the darkness, dressed in a white tracksuit and wearing a baseball cap. Full of energy, he looked for all the world like an athlete about to join a basketball game—a picture-perfect sporty youth.

As luck would have it, Qin Sheng was dressed entirely in black that day.

She glanced at Song Qing’an’s clothes, then looked down at her own. Anyone who didn’t know better would think they were wearing matching outfits like a couple.

Qin Sheng tightened her jacket around her. Song Qing’an took the opportunity to sit down beside her.

“Did Lu Shenchen not feed you again?” Qin Sheng knew well enough that this man only ever sought her out when it came to food; she was more than used to it by now.

Song Qing’an raised an eyebrow, leaning ever so slightly closer to Qin Sheng, as if by accident.

Seeing that he didn’t answer, Qin Sheng turned to question him further, only to find him suddenly so close.

Their eyes met—those smiling, enchanting eyes of Song Qing’an caught her off guard, leaving her momentarily transfixed.

He inched even closer, his voice low and intimate. “Is it so impossible that I just missed you and came to see you?”

His warm breath brushed Qin Sheng’s cheek, the atmosphere thick with ambiguity. Her face grew uncomfortably hot, as if burning.

Song Qing’an, clearly not ready to let her off so easily, curved his lips in a teasing smile. “Won’t you admit you missed me too?”

Her heart beat wildly, like a startled deer. Swallowing hard, she pushed him away.

“Don’t flatter yourself—I didn’t miss you at all,” she said, turning her back on him.

Song Qing’an arched an eyebrow, folding his arms and deciding not to tease her further. He knew her temper well; provoke the little cat too much and not only would he get no rations, he might very well get a slap.

“Is there anything to eat?” Song Qing’an swiftly changed the subject.

Qin Sheng sighed—just as she had expected, his visit was really only about food. The erratic beating of her heart calmed, replaced by a vague discomfort, as though something was missing. Unable to make sense of it, she let the feeling go.

“I have compressed biscuits. Want some?” She turned to look at him, only to find Song Qing’an lounging nonchalantly against the wall, utterly at ease. She chose, without hesitation, to give him the biscuits.

At the mention of compressed biscuits, Song Qing’an’s handsome face fell. He pouted, as if sulking. “Compressed biscuits again? I really don’t want to eat those.”

Qin Sheng, without hesitation, took a few from her bag and tossed them into his lap. “Eat them or don’t, it’s up to you.”

Startled by her sudden mood, Song Qing’an quickly deduced the cause. He sauntered over, leaned down, and asked softly, with a sly smile, “You don’t really think I only ever come to you for food, do you?”

Annoyed by his nearness, Qin Sheng took two steps back. “What else would it be?” she retorted.

Had Song Qing’an ever come for any reason besides food? She was curious what excuse he’d try next.

Song Qing’an let out a soft laugh, clear and melodious in the night, making Qin Sheng’s heart tremble. Unconsciously, she clenched her fists, anticipation flickering in her eyes.

“I came for a meal—and to give you something.” Song Qing’an smiled mysteriously, snapped his fingers, and suddenly a bottle appeared in Qin Sheng’s hand.

“What’s this?” she asked, curiosity piqued, reaching to open it.

Song Qing’an caught her hand, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “A potion of transformation. If you open it, who knows what might happen?”

A potion of transformation?

Qin Sheng’s eyes lit up as she considered the implications. “So if it’s a transformation potion, that means I can make it become whatever I want?”

Song Qing’an’s gaze lingered on her hand in his. He nodded, his smile deepening. “Of course. Anything your heart desires.”

A bright smile spread across her face. She had been wondering how to help Zhao Tiantian and the others teach Qin Mengchun a lesson, and here Song Qing’an was, offering her the perfect tool.

She didn’t even notice that her hand was still wrapped in his.

“So, do you believe I come to you for more than just food now?” Song Qing’an asked smugly, pride gleaming in his eyes. With his soft white hair, he looked so much like a Samoyed puppy that Qin Sheng couldn’t help but think of one.

The resemblance was so strong, she burst out laughing.

Song Qing’an blinked in surprise. “What are you laughing at?”

Qin Sheng quickly suppressed her thoughts—if he knew she was comparing him to a puppy, he’d surely bristle with indignation, and then she’d have to coax him back.

“Nothing,” she replied, brushing it off. “How did you know I wanted something like this?”

Her gaze dropped to the potion, only then noticing the warm, fair hand still holding hers.

Song Qing’an pretended not to notice, tightening his grip. “I’m a genius. I know what you want without even having to guess.”

Qin Sheng smiled, flashing white teeth. “Then guess what I want right now.”

He could tell from her expression that her thoughts were less than innocent, but he wasn’t a mind reader. Closing his eyes, he put on a show of great effort. “Guessing takes a lot out of me. I can’t just do it for free every time.”

She knew he was teasing her. Mischief danced in her eyes as she leaned closer, whispering, “I’m just wondering whether I should chop off your fingers or your whole hand.”

Song Qing’an recoiled, hastily withdrawing his hand. “How could you be so heartless?”

Qin Sheng slipped the potion into her pocket, tilting her head and smiling. “I never said letting you take advantage of me was a way to thank you.”

He pouted, shooting her a plaintive glance. “It was just holding hands. How is that taking advantage?”

Her gaze turned sharp. Song Qing’an quickly closed his mouth, cleared his throat, and forced a laugh. “In that case, you’re not really going to fob me off with just a few compressed biscuits, are you?”

Qin Sheng shook her head with a sigh, already anticipating this would all end with food. She pulled two cans of luncheon meat from her pocket and tossed them over. “That’s your compensation. Try taking more liberties and you’ll lose a hand.”

With that, she strode off, leaving Song Qing’an standing there, cradling the cans with a fond smile.

A gust of wind passed. Song Qing’an’s smile faded, and with a wave of his hand, one of the cans popped open by itself.

“My lord, what brings you here?” Xunfeng appeared swiftly, dropping to one knee.

Song Qing’an took a bite and nodded approvingly. “It’s good, indeed.”

Xunfeng remained kneeling, not daring to rise. “My lord, I’ve been following Qin Sheng the whole time. Nothing unusual.”

Song Qing’an set the can aside, his expression unchanged. “Good. Keep following her, as before.”

Xunfeng got up, frowning with concern. “My lord, if I follow her, what about you?”

Song Qing’an shook his head and handed him the unopened can. “Don’t worry about me. The people from Listening Wind Pavilion won’t dare make a move for now.”

Xunfeng still seemed hesitant, but before he could say more, Song Qing’an vanished, leaving behind only the empty can as proof he had ever been there.

Xunfeng picked up both cans, making sure to take the empty one as well before disappearing.

The night passed peacefully.

In the morning, Qin Sheng’s room was awakened by a piercing scream.

Jiang Miaomiao and Ah Di, annoyed, hurried to Zhao Tiantian’s room.

“What are you screaming about this early?” Ah Di snapped irritably.

Zhao Tiantian, pale with fear, rushed to their side, trembling. “There’s a rat in Mengchun’s bed.”

Ah Di and Jiang Miaomiao were puzzled—why would a rat single out Qin Mengchun’s bed?

Qin Mengchun was terrified, clutching Zhang Meng in silence. Had she really slept with those disgusting rats all night?

“Where’s the rat?” Ah Di, bold as ever, went over and turned over the bedding, but found nothing—not even a footprint.

“Maybe you imagined it,” Jiang Miaomiao added, seeing no trace of any rat herself. It was hard not to suspect that Qin Mengchun had made it all up.

But Qin Mengchun had seen the rats with her own eyes, felt them crawl over her body. How could there be no trace?

Zhao Tiantian and Zhang Meng hadn’t seen anything, but seeing how frightened Qin Mengchun was, they’d believed her.

“Are you playing a joke on us?” Ah Di, cranky from being woken up, was convinced Qin Mengchun was just making things up.