Chapter 38: Beast, Where Are You Looking

  "Not bad house." Zhang Yang buried himself into the soft sofa, his tired eyes sweeping lazily around the apartment’s living room.

  Purple-brown wooden floors, pink walls, a light-blue fabric sofa facing a wall-mounted 42-inch LED TV. Behind the TV hung three horizontal, vividly colored frameless seascape paintings.

  A brown tea table sat atop a huge beige carpet, fluffy and warm in tone. Beyond the floor-to-ceiling glass balcony, the blue sea stretched out, and a crack in the window let in a hint of cool sea breeze.

  The décor wasn’t luxurious, but every piece of furniture and decoration was full of creativity. Overall, the room had a princess-blue seaside vibe.

  Zhang Yang stood up and wandered aimlessly to the bookshelf by the balcony, glancing over to find only dull engineering books—no romance novels at all.

  "That Qiao Xier really knows how to enjoy life, though her daily life seems a bit bland."

  At noon, after a casual meal with Qiao Xier, she drove her A6 straight to Seaview Garden Estate by Meining University. Turns out she also lived off-campus—but her place was definitely one of Meining City’s most luxurious neighborhoods.

  Seaview Garden sat by the seaside near Meining University, surrounded by 4A-level scenic zones. The air was fresh enough to intoxicate. Housing prices here had already hit ten thousand yuan per square meter, and that’s in gold terms—and still in short supply.

  Qiao Xier’s apartment was sixty square meters, meaning she lived in a place worth over three million, and drove a car worth another three million.

  Clearly, Miss Qiao Xier wasn’t simple. Someone that young, still a grad student, couldn’t possibly afford all this on her own. In this age of rich dads, it was obvious she had one hell of a father.

  The bedroom door beside the living room opened, a faint sound immediately catching Zhang Yang’s attention and breaking his train of thought.

  The beautiful Qiao Xier had finished changing.

  As the rhythmic click-clack of heels sounded on the floor, Qiao Xier appeared before Zhang Yang in her new outfit.

  "Whoa!" Zhang Yang felt the whole room brighten up. His drowsy eyes snapped wide open. To say she was dazzling would be an understatement.

  She wore a purple round-neck lace-trim tight T-shirt paired with an embroidered beige vest. The neckline of the shirt was clearly designed to be tight, pushing her already fine peaks into full, round curves that looked ready to burst.

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  The top alone was eye-catching enough, but the bottom was a complete game-changer. The last time Zhang Yang saw her in a half skirt, he already admired her shapely, slender calves. But today—she was wearing a light beige, hollow crochet pleated lace mini skirt, just sheer enough, barely covering her perky hips. The color was close to flesh tone, but the stark contrast between her fair thighs and the skirt’s color made it even more alluring.

  The skirt’s flared hem swayed gently with each step, as if one gust of wind could lift it, revealing the spot that drove men mad.

  Zhang Yang knew Qiao Xier had long legs, but usually, they were hidden. Today, though, with this barely thirty-centimeter mini skirt, her long legs were on full display. Judging by eye, from where her thighs met to her soles, it had to be at least a meter. Her legs could rival Yang Fei’s—or maybe even longer.

  "What are you looking at?" Qiao Xier’s cheeks flushed red. One hand held her skirt hem to prevent exposure. Seeing Zhang Yang’s greedy gaze, a faint look of pride crossed her face. She straightened her chest slightly and said, "So? My figure’s enough to crush your Lulu, huh?"

  Zhang Yang hesitated. Obviously, denying her now would get him killed. But he couldn’t bring himself to belittle his girlfriend either. To be fair, Xu Danlu, no matter what she wore, exuded that seductive vibe that instantly made people think of beds and sheets—a real temptress.

  Qiao Xier’s look now, though, was different. It was tempting, yes—but classy. The allure of a long-legged beauty, seductive yet not slutty.

  "Each has her own charm," Zhang Yang thought for a moment before replying. Sunlight poured through the clear glass window, passing through her skirt. From Zhang Yang’s angle, he could clearly see that the hem was less than ten centimeters from that mysterious triangle. One step, one sway, and the view inside was visible.

  For a normally proportioned woman, this skirt would be fine. But on a long-legged beauty like Qiao Xier, it was definitely too short.

  "Hmph, clearly biased toward your Lulu." Seeing that her effort and sacrifice only earned a lukewarm comment, Qiao Xier got angry, clenching her fists and charging at Zhang Yang.

  With that charge, her skirt flew up. What made Zhang Yang’s nosebleed was that she was wearing white lace panties—slightly sheer. And since black and white contrast so sharply, the faint shadow underneath made his nose bleed instantly.

  "Ah!" Qiao Xier quickly realized something was wrong, screamed, covered her skirt, and ran back to the bedroom with a slam. "No way, you damn pervert! I’m changing!"

  "Wait!" Ignoring the nosebleed, Zhang Yang rushed to the door, knocking as he said, "What’s wrong with this outfit? It’s perfect!"

  "Perfect, my ass!" Qiao Xier’s voice trembled slightly with embarrassment. "You saw everything! I can’t get married now!"

  "Cough… cough!" Zhang Yang nearly choked. Was that really necessary?

  "Hey!" Zhang Yang knocked on the door again. "Don’t you have safety shorts?"

  "Safety shorts?" Qiao Xier paused inside, then suddenly realized, twisting her blushing face with frustration and muttering, "Idiot! How could I forget to wear those?"

  "Hmph, Zhang Yang, you’re dead." Furious, Qiao Xier rushed to the wardrobe, pulled out the matching safety shorts, and put them on. Before doing so, she couldn’t help but glance down—and froze. Why the hell was that dark shadow so damn obvious?

  Oh god, I can’t live anymore!

  Qiao Xier covered her face, threw herself onto the soft bed like a sandbag, buried her head under the blanket, and kicked her long white legs wildly. "Damn you, Zhang Yang, you’re so dead!"

  After a while, hearing no sound outside, Qiao Xier felt suspicious. Holding her skirt hem, she darkened her face, opened the door again—and saw that damn Zhang Yang lying on the sofa, asleep.

  "That beast!" Still fuming, she raised her booted foot, ready to stomp on him. But halfway through, she stopped reflexively. The guy was really asleep. Judging from his face, he must’ve been exhausted. Seeing that, she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

  She thought for a moment, sighed, went back to the bedroom, found a blanket, and gently covered him. "Stupid guy, I’ll settle this score later!"

  When Zhang Yang woke up again, it was already four in the afternoon. Autumn days were short. The sun hung low, the light softer now, shining through the window with a cool sea breeze—it was comfortable.

  "Damn, when I’m rich, I’m buying a place like this."

  "You’re awake?" Qiao Xier, lying beside him watching TV, asked flatly when she saw him stretch.

  Seeing her expression, Zhang Yang figured he’d dodged danger. He nodded quickly and asked sheepishly, "Did I actually fall asleep?"

  "No shit! You slept like a pig. I couldn’t wake you up at all." Qiao Xier pouted, tossed the remote aside, glared at him, and said, "You’ve only got two days, and you just wasted three hours. Let’s see how you finish your mission now."

  "Ah, right, I almost forgot!" Zhang Yang smacked his forehead, jumped up, and seeing Qiao Xier still in her mini skirt, sighed in relief. Grabbing her hand, he pulled her toward the door. "Come on, let’s earn some points… and find inspiration!"

  Feeling Zhang Yang’s firm grip on her delicate wrist, Qiao Xier froze, almost crying. This beast, taking all these liberties—now even holding her hand—does he think I’m his damn maid?