Chapter 37: The Ice Queen’s Fierce Love
“Who are you? Do you know who I am? How dare you kidnap me?!”
Tao Ning, the supposed villain of the original timeline, finally delivered a classic villainous line.
However, unlike the usual scenario of clueless underlings underestimating their captive, the woman she addressed looked troubled.
“I know who you are, Miss Tao,” she said, her voice apologetic. “But I’m afraid I can’t let you go.”
Tao Ning asked, “Then who are you?”
The woman, dressed in a smart business suit, replied, “I’m the housekeeper for this residence. Ms. Guan’s private housekeeper.”
Tao Ning asked, “And who is Ms. Guan?”
The housekeeper smiled politely, then said simply, “I’m sorry.” Clearly, she wasn’t going to answer that.
“A private residence, huh? Nice place,” Tao Ning said, glancing around, taking in the elegant décor. “Ms. Guan has good taste.”
The housekeeper smiled. “Yes, she designed it herself. With some input from… Miss Guan. She enjoys… interior design.”
Tao Ning: “Miss Guan?”
The housekeeper smiled again, clearly recognizing Tao Ning’s probing, and remained silent.
This was a professional housekeeper, trained to be discreet. Pressing her would be futile. Tao Ning wandered around the room, her attempts to glean more information about the homeowner unsuccessful.
Compared to the Tao family’s ancestral home, with its antique furniture and historical artifacts, this residence was modern, minimalist, the shelves adorned with exquisite vases and jade ornaments, all genuine.
The Tao residence, a centuries-old mansion, required constant maintenance and upkeep.
Not just the vases, but the other furnishings also suggested wealth and taste, not ostentatious displays of riches, but carefully chosen pieces, each adding a touch of elegance.
A newly wealthy family, perhaps? Tao Ning speculated. Recent success, but refined taste, an appreciation for art and beauty.
But the overall impression was of newness, the furniture and decorations lacking the patina of age, suggesting a rise to wealth within the past decade. There were signs of habitation, but few, indicating a busy lifestyle.
No children, she noted, observing the lack of toys or children’s books. And judging by the décor, the homeowner is young.
Seeing no point in arguing about her… confinement, Tao Ning decided to change her approach. “Well, I’m bored. Can I at least have a phone? Or a computer? Anything?”
The housekeeper’s expression turned apologetic again. “I’ll have to… request permission.”
Tao Ning, ever agreeable, waved a dismissive hand. “Go ahead,” and continued her exploration of the house.
The housekeeper instructed a maid to make the request, then followed Tao Ning, her gaze watchful, as if expecting her to suddenly start digging a tunnel.
Tao Ning was well aware that the house was surrounded by guards, every window monitored, escape routes blocked.
The car that had brought her here had contained three, possibly four, imposing female bodyguards, all resembling Liao Shishi, their combined gaze creating a sense of… confinement.
She could take down one Liao Shishi, but four? That was a different matter. She wasn’t a fighter.
Lost in thought, she paused, turning to the housekeeper, engaging her in casual conversation.
This time, however, the housekeeper was prepared, her responses polite, but revealing nothing.
Tao Ning frowned. She had dealt with all potential threats before leaving, ensuring a smooth path for the Tao Corporation for at least the next decade. Had someone new emerged in just a few months?
The maid returned, a hushed conversation ensuing between her and the housekeeper, their voices too low for Tao Ning to hear, their heads close together, like conspirators whispering in a poorly written drama.
Tao Ning, pretending to admire a vase, watched them from the corner of her eye, deciphering their words from their lip movements.
“On the plane. Unreachable.”
“Already on the plane? So soon?”
They both glanced at Tao Ning, their expressions troubled. The housekeeper turned to Tao Ning, her voice apologetic. “I’m sorry, Miss Tao, but we can’t provide you with a phone at this time. We have a home theater, if you’d like to watch a movie.”
Tao Ning, her eyes narrowing, asked, “With two guards standing behind me and a whole team outside the door?”
The housekeeper: “…”
The message was clear: We can’t let you leave, no matter what. You can complain, you can insult us, but you’re not going anywhere.
Tao Ning, exasperated by their… gentle resistance, decided to be… cooperative, at least for a while. Before the household staff could relax, however, a loud clang echoed through the house.
The housekeeper, startled, exclaimed, “What was that? A gong? Where did that come from?”
They followed the sound to the kitchen, where Tao Ning, who had been politely escorted to a guest room earlier, was now banging on a large stainless steel mixing bowl with a ladle, a makeshift gong.
The staff exchanged panicked glances.
Their employer had given explicit instructions to treat this guest with respect, to ensure she didn’t escape.
She wasn’t violent, didn’t yell or throw things. If she had resisted forcefully, they would have known how to respond. But this… this was psychological warfare.
Tao Ning, armed with her makeshift gong, settled on the balcony, enjoying the sunshine and the view, occasionally resuming her… performance, the rhythmic clanging unpredictable, starting and stopping without warning, keeping everyone on edge.
When asked about her demands, she had only one response: “Give me a phone.”
If they refused, the concert continued, the entire household held hostage by her relentless clanging.
One of the maids, unable to stand it any longer, pleaded with the housekeeper, “Just give her a phone! It’s just a phone!”
The housekeeper, however, was also under strict instructions. Her employer had warned her that Tao Ning was resourceful, capable of escaping through the smallest of openings.
They had been terrified when they had shown her to the bathroom, expecting her to vanish into thin air.
But half an hour later, she had emerged, her hair damp, casually complaining, “Why isn’t there a mirror in the bathroom?”
The housekeeper, clutching her heart medication, was ready to collapse.
Just when they thought she had finally calmed down, under the full moon, at midnight, the concert resumed.
The entire household: Please, make it stop!
Finally, after a sleepless night, the housekeeper, dark circles under her eyes, presented Tao Ning with a phone. A phone with no signal.
Tao Ning, in exchange, handed over her bowl and ladle. The housekeeper, grabbing the dented bowl, quickly retreated.
Five minutes later, however, Tao Ning, having expertly bypassed the phone’s security settings, dialed a familiar number.
It went straight to voicemail.
Tao Ning, frowning at the screen, muttered, “Did she forget to charge it again?”
Not having memorized any other numbers, she resigned herself to waiting for the homeowner’s return, enjoying the amenities, her presence a constant source of anxiety for the household staff, who were bracing themselves for her next… performance.
Tao Ning couldn’t understand why there were no mirrors anywhere in the house. When she asked the housekeeper, the answer was simply, “Ms. Guan doesn’t like mirrors.”
How strange, she thought. Mirrors are essential. Who doesn’t like mirrors?
She found a comfortable spot and closed her eyes, trying to rest.
She had encountered a rogue system on her way back, a system attempting to illegally enter a small world. She had destroyed it, but not before it had… bumped into her, causing her current disorientation.
She hadn’t had time to recover before launching her “gong offensive,” her pursuit of freedom inadvertently disrupting everyone else’s peace.
She had a pre-existing injury, and the repeated trips through the time portal had exacerbated it. One more trip, and she would be confined to a medical pod in the Homeworld.
Suddenly remembering something, she pulled out the phone, switching to the front-facing camera.
A familiar face appeared on the screen, slightly different, older, the subtle changes confirming her suspicions.
It wasn’t a young girl’s face anymore. Time had sharpened her features, the loss of baby fat accentuating her elegant bone structure. It was the face of a beautiful woman.
A mature, sophisticated beauty.
520: [Did that rogue system damage your brain? Your vitals are spiking!]
Tao Ning ignored 520, returning to the home screen and opening the calendar app. Her eyes widened as she saw the date.
The home screen displayed the date using the traditional Chinese sexagenary cycle, and Tao Ning, not having paid close attention, had simply assumed it was the current year. Now, doing the calculations, she realized… eight years had passed?
She dialed the familiar number again. Still unavailable.
She tossed the phone aside and stood up, looking around the room, her voice a low murmur. “Guan… Guan…”
The rogue system’s interference had cost her eight years. Then this place…
The housekeeper, seeing her distress, rushed over. “Are you alright, Miss Tao?”
Tao Ning, still disoriented, said, “I’m fine. Just need to… rest.”
She walked towards the stairs, her steps slightly unsteady.
She didn’t remember falling asleep, or perhaps she had collapsed. She vaguely felt someone watching her, her consciousness slowly returning, her eyes fluttering open.
A figure sat beside the bed, their dark hair falling over one shoulder, one hand resting on the mattress beside Tao Ning, the other, its fingers long and slender, reaching out, as if to touch her face.
Seeing Tao Ning’s eyes open, the figure didn’t withdraw their hand, their cool fingers gently brushing against her cheek.
Tao Ning, her gaze unfocused, whispered, “Qiuyi?”
It was late afternoon, the sunlight streaming through the window, illuminating Xu Qiuyi’s face, softening her features.
Her eyes, like pools of still water, met Tao Ning’s, and she murmured, “Yes.”
Tao Ning sat up, and Xu Qiuyi, watching her, remained silent.
The eight years hadn’t felt real to Tao Ning. Her memories were still fresh, as if they had only been apart for a weekend.
But for Xu Qiuyi, it had been thousands of days and nights, each one different, each one etching itself into her memory.
As Xu Qiuyi looked at her, Tao Ning also studied her.
Xu Qiuyi had changed, her features sharper, her demeanor even more reserved, a subtle coolness emanating from her.
The cinnabar mole between her eyebrows seemed to burn brighter against her pale skin, a stark contrast.
She looked tired, her expression strained.
She was tired. She had been overseas when she received the call, rushing back, enduring a twenty-hour flight, unable to sleep, fearing it was all a dream.
The housekeeper, upon her arrival, had informed her that Tao Ning was still in the guest room, her face unusually pale.
A wave of anxiety had washed over her, questions swirling in her mind, her voice trembling as she spoke to the housekeeper.
“Good. I’ve landed. I’ll be there soon.”
Hanging up, her desire to return intensifying, she had, uncharacteristically, urged the driver to hurry, every second an eternity.
Arriving home, she had rushed upstairs, ignoring the housekeeper, her steps swift, taking the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator.
Seeing Tao Ning lying on the bed, she had finally relaxed, but it still felt… unreal.
Like a dream, she had entered the room, repeating the actions she had performed countless times in her dreams, sitting beside the bed, reaching out.
This time, however, she felt warmth, not the cold emptiness of a dream, the familiar sensation of her hand passing through Tao Ning’s image, the dream ending, her heart aching.
“It’s real,” she whispered. “Not a dream.”
Tao Ning’s heart ached, a bittersweet ache that brought tears to her eyes.
Seeing Xu Qiuyi’s gaze, she felt a pang of guilt, and she gently took Xu Qiuyi’s hand, her warmth a silent reassurance.
“It’s not a dream, Qiuyi. It’s me. I’m back.”
Xu Qiuyi’s hand tightened around hers, her grip firm, and she nodded slowly. “You’re back.”
Xu Qiuyi’s hands, roughened by years of hard work, were a familiar comfort, evoking a wave of emotion in Tao Ning.
This was the Xu Qiuyi she had wanted to see, the successful, independent woman she had envisioned in the Homeworld. But seeing her now, all she felt was heartache.
Xu Qiuyi had indeed achieved everything she had dreamed of, her career flourishing, her future bright, but she wasn’t happy.
Tao Ning realized she had been wrong, her arrogance, her interference, having unintended consequences, a price to be paid.
She pulled Xu Qiuyi closer, wrapping her arms around her. “You must be tired after such a long journey.”
“I’m fine,” Xu Qiuyi murmured, leaning against her, her eyes closed, the redness still visible.
She rarely cried, her tears a precious commodity, most of them shed in Tao Ning’s presence. It made her feel vulnerable.
She wasn’t one to complain, summarizing her exhaustion and anxiety with a simple “I’m fine,” unable to say more, fearing she might break down again.
Tao Ning said, “You look tired. Let’s… take a nap.”
Xu Qiuyi’s eyes flew open, her hand gripping Tao Ning’s tightly. “Are you… leaving again?”
Tao Ning said, “No, I’m not leaving. You just look… exhausted. Let’s sleep for a bit. Reset your… internal clock.”
She gently pulled Xu Qiuyi down onto the bed, her hand resting on her shoulder. “I’ll be here. Beside you.”
Xu Qiuyi, still hesitant, lay down, the warmth of Tao Ning’s body a comforting presence. “You’re not leaving? Promise?”
Tao Ning reassured her, “I promise. With all those bodyguards outside, I couldn’t leave even if I wanted to. Just sleep. We’ll talk when you wake up.”
Indeed, the house was surrounded by guards, escape impossible.
“You promised…” Xu Qiuyi murmured, the familiar scent of Tao Ning’s perfume filling her senses, a wave of drowsiness washing over her.
She was exhausted, having slept less than three hours in two days. She couldn’t fight it any longer.
Tao Ning’s soothing voice lulled her to sleep, her consciousness fading, her hand still gripping Tao Ning’s.
She drifted back to that night eight years ago, after the graduation dinner, exchanging goodbyes, an ordinary ending to an ordinary day.
Then, she had heard that Tao Ning was leaving, going abroad, her return date uncertain.
Xu Qiuyi hadn’t believed it. It didn’t make sense. Tao Ning had already submitted her university applications, her future planned, their travel plans already discussed. Why would she suddenly leave?
But everyone, every single person, had insisted it was true: Tao Yan, Lü Xinxi, Jin Yue, all convinced that Tao Ning was gone.
Tao Ning had become an unreachable contact, a silent profile picture, and no one had questioned it, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Guan Ruolin’s gaze had been filled with concern, her words unspoken.
Gradually, Xu Qiuyi had stopped asking, accepting the silence, focusing on her studies, her career, building her empire.
She had thought her life would continue like this, a solitary path, until, eight years later, Tao Ning returned.
Tao Ning, her hand held captive in Xu Qiuyi’s, lay beside her, her long eyelashes casting shadows on her face, her expression unreadable.
“What would have happened… if I hadn’t come back?” she asked softly.
520, stating the answer Tao Ning already knew, replied, [The original host’s lifespan was twenty-seven years. They would have announced her death. She would have ceased to exist.]
One more year, and Tao Ning would have been forcibly extracted, her identity invalid.
The realization sent a shiver down her spine, a belated sense of… fear.
She gently traced Xu Qiuyi’s sleeping face, her fingers lingering on her slightly dry lips, a gesture of intimacy she wouldn’t have dared before.
Xu Qiuyi, waking up after a rare night of uninterrupted sleep, found herself curled up against Tao Ning, her face buried against her neck, inhaling her scent.
She lingered for a moment, enjoying the warmth, then, reaching out, her hand gently caressed Tao Ning’s face, her fingers tracing her features.
So this is what she looks like now, she thought, noticing the subtle changes, the absence of the vibrant red streaks in her hair.
Her touch, however, lingered, her fingers tracing her eyebrows, her nose, then pausing on her lips.
They were soft, warm.
The realization surprised her. She had never touched anyone’s lips before, and the sensation was different from her own.
Ningning is still a heavy sleeper, she thought. Once she’s asleep, nothing can wake her.
As she was thinking this, she noticed Tao Ning’s eyelids fluttering.
Her hand froze, hovering just above Tao Ning’s chin.
What will she do when she wakes up? she wondered.
Tao Ning, roused by the movement, her eyes fluttering open, found herself staring into a pair of bright eyes.
Xu Qiuyi, her hair tousled, lay in her arms, her eyes slightly open, their gaze soft and luminous, her lips a vibrant red against her pale skin, her cheeks flushed with warmth.
Tao Ning’s reaction was instinctive, her heart skipping a beat. She pulled Xu Qiuyi closer, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
“Good morning,” she murmured, her voice slightly hoarse.
Xu Qiuyi, stunned, could only manage a soft, “Huh?”
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