Chapter 42

Chapter 42: Child of Fortune

In every world, there was a Child of Fortune.

A favored darling specially loved by God. In certain special worlds, the Child of Fortune maintained the operation of that small world.

The world revolved around them.

And around the Child of Fortune, there was both luck and misfortune—entangled like twin snakes.

In short, it could never be peaceful.

Without expression, Qiao Qing Yan unlocked her phone and read the message Old Madam Qian had sent.

Your Master plans to leave the Capital next month and go back to the countryside to retire. It might not be so easy to meet again in the future. He’s been strong his whole life. The only one he can’t let go of is probably you.

Little Tabby Cat hovered beside her, studying her face as if it could translate silence into meaning.

It couldn’t.

And it didn’t dare speak carelessly, either.

The calmer Master looked, the more unreadable she became—the more dangerous it was.

But the system didn’t dare leave. What if it turned around and, in the next second, Master went back inside and did that with the Child of Fortune?

Then it would be finished.

Little Tabby Cat secretly glanced toward the sky, thinking of those two terrifying men. It shuddered.

Why was its life so bitter?

It was just a tiny system, yet it had to shoulder far more than it ever should have.

After a long moment, Qiao Qing Yan heard the bathroom door open behind her.

She shot Little Tabby Cat a glance.

Before it could say another word, the system vanished—thrown back into the little black room.

“Master! That’s the Child of Fortune!” Little Tabby Cat’s voice echoed faintly, fading into panic. “Think about your retirement life! Didn’t you want to laze around—Master—”

The connection cut cleanly.

Qiao Qing Yan didn’t spare it another thought.

Fu Yan Shi picked up the phone he’d dropped on the bedroom carpet earlier. The screen was dark. He was about to power it on when—

Click.

The door opened.

A slender, stunning woman stood barefoot in the doorway.

Her peach blossom eyes tipped up slightly, seductive without effort. Under the moonlight, her snow-white skin looked almost luminous.

Vivid red lips. A faint blush still staining her cheeks. Her gaze drifted over him, slow and unhidden, as if she were appraising a masterpiece.

His white shirt hung half open. His bangs were wet, and a few drops of water slid down his cheek, along his throat, and disappeared beneath the fabric.

He hadn’t expected her to come back.

That alone was surprising.

What stunned him more was her gaze—how it followed the line of water like it could see straight through cloth and skin and bone.

“Still going?” Fu Yan Shi’s voice was hoarse, desire rough around the edges, not fully cooled.

Qiao Qing Yan walked toward him, step by step, and the scent of grass and pine wrapped the air again.

She rose onto her toes and brushed her lips against his chin. Her breath spilled warm against his face.

Fu Yan Shi’s eyes darkened. A faint red returned at the corners.

He couldn’t endure her teasing any longer. With one sweep of his arm, he pulled her into his embrace and fell back toward the bed behind him.

The world tipped. Their positions switched.

Her long black hair fanned across the white sheets, stark under the moonlight.

His kiss came down, intense and lingering.

He caught her hand—small, cool—and with a familiarity that made his own chest tighten, guided it beneath his shirt.