Engagement Annulled? Now The Husbands Kneel and Beg for Her Favor

Que Feiling stared at the screen, the blue light reflecting on his face making his skin seem even fairer.

The young man looked at Qin Muye’s message, tugging at his overgrown red hair in frustration.

’That leopard is as annoying as ever. If I weren’t locked up in here, I would’ve taken a pile of gems to court Miss Jiang long ago. Would I still have to put up with his mockery then?’

But since he couldn’t get out, Que Feiling had no choice but to swallow his pride and ask what the other man usually did to start a conversation with a woman.

And Qin Muye, for his part, was annoyed just seeing the dead bird’s name pop up.

He had originally planned to just brush him off with a few words, but then he suddenly realized this was a golden opportunity.

That dead bird used to flaunt his wealth at him all the time. Now it was his turn to show off his love life.

Coincidentally, Jiang Qingli was staying out tonight, and Qin Muye was feeling restless. A digital punching bag had just presented itself, and he had to use his taunt skill to land a few punches.

The Prince leaned back on the sofa, casually propped his long legs up on the coffee table, and began to unleash—

[I don’t need to initiate. She’s usually the one who messages me first.]

[I’m just her type.]

[There’s no market for your type. Give up now before you embarrass yourself so badly you end up in the news.]

Que Feiling: "..."

’The nerve of him. When it came to making the news, who had done it more than Qin Muye?’

Having been Qin Muye’s arch-nemesis for years, Que Feiling knew that you often had to take the opposite of what he said.

So, he reasonably deduced that the Prince must pester Miss Jiang constantly. He was probably just putting on a brave face for him, but in front of her, he was likely more obedient than a puppy.

Que Feiling pondered for a moment. His gaze fell on the passionate lovers on the TV screen, and he wondered if Jiang Qingli preferred someone more forward.

’I should start with what she likes. That’s how it always goes in TV dramas.’

He deliberated for a moment before asking indirectly: [Miss Jiang, do you have a favorite color? That protective suit from last time was damaged, so I need to have a new one made for you. I thought it would be nice to use a color you like.]

After typing out the words, Que Feiling read them over a few times, then added a cute sticker before sending.

The message’s status changed to "Read" within minutes, but there was no reply.

Que Feiling’s heart raced, and his breathing grew uneven.

Unable to bear the torment of waiting, Que Feiling exited the chat interface several times, switching to other apps and then back again.

More than ten minutes later, a reply came from Jiang Qingli’s account.

After hearing the special notification sound, Que Feiling took a deep breath and slowly opened the message.

After seeing the text, his fiery heart felt as if it had been plunged into water, letting out a SIZZLE and releasing plumes of thick smoke.

The reply was just three words, but they were more chilling than dozens of Qin Muye’s taunts combined—

[She is asleep.]

Two days passed peacefully.

On Friday morning, the group finished their security inspection near the academic building.

Jiang Qingli stretched her wrists, about to leave, when Ke An called out to her. "Qingli, want to go check out the theater? The script has just been revised, so shall we go take a look?"

Aside from his academy duties, Xie Guanqi also had to prepare to enter politics, so most of the work for the Moon Festival was handled by Ke An and Jiang Qingli. They had been spending a lot of time together recently, so Ke An had grown accustomed to calling her "Qingli."

Jiang Qingli nodded. "Sure."

’She’s not as bad as the rumors say...’

Ke An looked at the girl’s face and sighed inwardly. ’She’s actually a really great person and a perfect match for Mr. Baili, too. It’s a shame their relationship isn’t public. For now, I’ll have to ship this CP all on my own.’

When they arrived at the theater, they saw the drama club president from afar, dressed in a long robe and roaring ferociously into her terminal:

"...You’d better have a real emergency! I’m warning you! If you delay the performance, I don’t care if you’re the student council vice president or whatever—believe me, I’ll kill you!"

The call ended. Furious, she slammed her terminal on the table and cursed, "That Bai Yiyi! Taking a day off on the very first rehearsal! What ’Beast Husband is sick’? If he’s sick, take him to a hospital! She’s not a doctor! If one person wastes one minute, ten people waste ten minutes! With over a hundred of us here, that’s hours!"

Jiang Qingli: "..."

’Those words sound so familiar. I think I just heard a professor say them in class not too long ago...’

An actor saw Ke An and Jiang Qingli approaching and tugged on the president’s sleeve.

The president turned to look at them. After thinking for a few seconds, her eyes lit up. "You two, would you be interested in helping us with a rehearsal?"

She explained the situation: "Bai Yiyi can’t make it today. Could you help us with the blocking? It won’t take long. Just put on the costumes, stand in for her, and read a few lines..."

Ke An looked at Jiang Qingli and suggested, "Qingli, why don’t you try? You have a similar build to Bai Yiyi."

Ke An was tall and slender, a good half a head taller than both Bai Yiyi and Jiang Qingli, so the costume probably wouldn’t fit her well.

The president now realized that Jiang Qingli was a better fit too.

Because Jiang Qingli and Bai Yiyi actually had very similar figures. Someone who didn’t know them well might even mistake one for the other if they didn’t get a good look at their faces.

Since she wasn’t busy anyway, and it was just a matter of standing and reading a few lines from the script, Jiang Qingli didn’t refuse. She took the costume and went to change.

Inside the dressing room, she took off her regular clothes. As she held the costume up to herself in the mirror, she suddenly realized a serious problem.

Bai Yiyi’s character was the head handmaiden of the Beast God Temple. The robe’s style was quite elegant, but also very complex.

’I... don’t know how to put it on.’

Jiang Qingli held the bundled robe and fiddled with it for a while, but she was clueless. She took out her terminal, planning to look up some information.

KNOCK KNOCK.

Someone knocked gently on the door.

Gu Nian’s voice, deliberately lowered, came from outside the door. "Qingli, do you need my help?"

’Perfect timing.’

Jiang Qingli walked to the door with the clothes in her arms. Her hand touched the doorknob, and then she remembered she was still naked.

After a few seconds of hesitation, she heard him say again, "Qingli, do you see the crossover collar? There’s a hidden clasp underneath. Unfasten it and slip the robe on first, then I’ll help you with the rest."

He had considered that their relationship hadn’t progressed that far and that she would be embarrassed if he just came in, so he gave her instructions verbally instead.

A warmth spread through Jiang Qingli’s chest. She slipped the robe on as he’d instructed, then opened the door.

By now, Gu Nian had also changed into his costume.

His wide, black robe covered most of the young man’s body. He was wearing makeup; his jet-black hair now reached his waist, his skin was pale, and his lips were a startling blood-red. His usual pink, glass-like eyes had been replaced by a deep, pitch-black color, making him the very picture of a gloomy, brooding figure.

But the eyes looking at her still held that same, pleasant smile.

Jiang Qingli asked curiously, "Who are you playing?"

Gu Nian’s lips curved. "I’m playing Sindel. You’ve heard of him, right, Qingli?"

Jiang Qingli laughed in surprise. "Is there such a cute villain as you?"

Sindel was the villain in the third act of *Miracle*.

In his youth, Sindel was poor, of low status, and disliked by everyone.

His father was an abandoned, lowly male beast with a gambling addiction. Every time before he went out to gamble, he would beat Sindel, then mumble before a statue of a god, praying for luck. His prayers never seemed to work, however, and he would return and beat Sindel violently.

Sindel hated the gods, who did nothing.

One rainy night, his drunken father lost all his money, came home to grab what little they had, and tried to flee. When Sindel tried to stop him, he was brutally beaten.

The creditors came looking for their money. When they couldn’t find it, they beat Sindel severely and ransacked the house, taking everything—including the very god statue he detested most.

As Sindel lay on the verge of death, he cursed the powerlessness of the gods.

As his consciousness faded, he suddenly saw a woman with a blurry face walk up to him.

The woman gently caressed his face. The bleeding stopped, and his festering wounds miraculously healed.

Faced with his disrespect, the god did not smite him with divine punishment, but instead wiped away all his pain and suffering.

After Sindel woke up, he joined the army, where he repeatedly achieved great feats on the battlefield with his fierce and sinister killing methods.

But he was not satisfied with this.

After conquering the grasslands territory, Sindel killed the commanding general and declared himself king.

He was bloodthirsty by nature and plundered vast resources.

Beyond that, he had another habit that every believer scorned—

Every time he conquered a city, he would order his men to seize the god statues from the temples and lock them away in his own courtyard.

Soon, the Emperor sent troops to besiege him.

With his meager forces, Sindel suffered one defeat after another and was finally cornered by the army in his residence.

Perhaps knowing he was about to die, Sindel did not resist. Instead, he knelt in a storeroom filled with god statues, his head tilted back, gazing quietly at them.

This time, the god did not show him favor.

A volley of arrows was unleashed, pinning Sindel to the foot of a god statue.

His eyes were fixed on the statue, as if he were expecting a Miracle to occur again, or perhaps resentful that the god’s favor had been granted to him only once.

...

When Jiang Qingli had read the script before, she had never once connected this character with Gu Nian.

Still, she could understand why Gu Nian got this role.

In the six-hour-long performance, Sindel’s part was in the middle. His role was small and mostly negative.

The students at the academy were either rich or noble; no one wanted to play the villain. If you performed poorly, you’d be criticized, but if you performed too well, people might wonder if you harbored extremist thoughts in real life.

Jiang Qingli wasn’t that picky about actors, though. She just found Gu Nian’s new look refreshing and couldn’t help but stare a little longer.

The young man walked into the dressing room, placidly letting her look at him. His eyelashes were lowered, each one distinct.

Meeting Jiang Qingli’s intrigued gaze, he tilted his head and asked, "You don’t think I look like a bad guy?"

"Of course not."

As Jiang Qingli spoke, her fingers twirled a strand of the young man’s pure black hair. She gave it a gentle tug; it was surprisingly sturdy.

Just as she was playing with it, her hand was suddenly gripped by pale, slender fingers.

Gu Nian’s aura suddenly turned dominant. He closed the distance step by step until he had her pressed against the wall, planting one hand beside her head to firmly trap her in the crook of his arm.

The young man’s slender fingers, with their well-defined knuckles, gripped her chin, forcing her to look up.

He lowered his eyes, looking down at her, then suddenly leaned in close, a flirtatious and dangerous smile playing on his lips:

"It often takes just a single moment for a boy to become a man."

"So, this beautiful young lady... are you willing to teach me?"