Chapter 13: In front of the love rival…

Genting Pavilion.

Lu Qingqi stared at the slice of birthday cake in his hand. Its sweet aroma teased his growling stomach, but suspicion gnawed at him.

Liu Wangjiang, his self-proclaimed rival, had cut it himself.

If he were in Liu’s shoes, he’d have spiked the cake with laxatives.

Could Liu Wangjiang really be this generous?

Especially after Lu Qingqi’s failed attempt to humiliate him with “Xiao Yan’s” stunt—kneeling, licking fingers, meowing. Liu had to be holding a grudge.

Liu Wangjiang’s gaze flicked to the cake in Lu Qingqi’s hand. Noticing his hesitation, he said nothing, just glanced toward the crowd.

Yuki Shirahara stepped forward, standing beside Lu Qingqi naturally, her tone half-urging, half-coaxing. “Qingqi, eat up. It’s your birthday.”

“Yeah, Young Master Lu, take the first bite, we’ll follow!” a second-gen called.

“Eat it! What’s a birthday without cake?” another chimed.

“What’s the holdup? Think Master Liu slipped some chili sauce in there?” a third teased.

The crowd’s enthusiasm reignited the lively atmosphere.

Buoyed by their encouragement, Lu Qingqi shook off his doubts, forked a small piece, and popped it into his mouth. The cream was sweet but not cloying, the cake soft and fluffy—exactly his taste.

As he savored it, a faint, unfamiliar fragrance danced on his tongue, distinct from the cake. Familiar, yet unplaceable.

Seeing him eat, the second-gens dove into the cake, accepting the gesture if not the flavor.

Oddly, Liu Wangjiang never touched a slice.

[This week’s superpowers have been updated. The following are the optional powers:]

Lu Qingqi, mid-bite, froze briefly before regaining composure, his eyes never leaving Liu Wangjiang.

The party wound down near midnight. Liu Wangjiang slipped away from the farewells, heading to the underground parking garage.

The elevator doors parted, revealing the empty garage, cold white lights casting stark shadows, footsteps echoing crisply.

He reached his car and opened the door when rapid footsteps sounded behind him.

Instinct kicked in—Liu Wangjiang dodged. A splat rang out as a piece of cake smashed against his car window, cream and crumbs splattering.

“Liu Wangjiang!”

An angry female voice cut through the air. He turned, frowning slightly.

“Xiao Yan” stood a few steps away, pointing at him, her tone hostile. “Did you meet some mysterious old man? Why don’t my superpowers work on you?!”

Three failures had snapped Lu Qingqi’s patience. The first might’ve been rusty control, but repeated flops pointed to something off.

She’d slipped out during Liu Wangjiang’s absence, claiming a bathroom break, donned her “Xiao Yan” persona, and chased him here to confront him.

The world was full of weirdness. If she could draw anime superpowers weekly, why couldn’t Liu Wangjiang have his own cheat code?

Exposure risk? Laughable. She was “Xiao Yan” now, gender and all—Liu Wangjiang couldn’t possibly suspect her.

Liu Wangjiang stood by his car, eyeing the furious girl with a strange expression.

Mysterious old man? Superpowers?

Wasn’t she Lu Qingqi’s hire? Why spout such nonsense?

Did Lu Qingqi pick a chuunibyou nutcase on purpose?

It wasn’t impossible—Lu Qingqi was childish enough.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Liu Wangjiang said evenly.

“Then stand still, and I’ll use my power on you again!”

“Xiao Yan” glanced at her newly refreshed powers and selected [Forced Extreme].

Her fingertips twitched, aiming at him.

Instantly, a foreign heat erupted in her lower abdomen, surging through her veins to every limb.

The image of Liu Wangjiang crumbling didn’t happen. Instead, an invisible net seemed to snap tight around her. Her breath hitched, legs buckling uncontrollably.

Thud. She collapsed to the cold garage floor.

Her consciousness felt boiled, shattering into fragments.

A tidal wave of pleasure flooded her senses, nearly drowning her sanity. The garage lights spun in her vision, her heavy breathing and shameful sobs echoing in her ears.

Her soul seemed crushed and remade, edges smoothed by raw, primal tremors.

Saliva dripped from her mouth, pooling on the concrete.

Time blurred. The pleasure ebbed, leaving exhaustion and searing shame.

Her vision cleared, focusing on a pair of polished black shoes.

She looked up, meeting Liu Wangjiang’s inscrutable gaze.

He’d approached unnoticed, looking down at her—not with surprise or mockery, but a calm scrutiny, like observing a strange animal.

“Asshole, why are you fine?!” Lu Qingqi gritted her teeth, struggling to stand, but her legs were jelly. She collapsed again.

A cool, sticky sensation hit her. Glancing down, she saw her dark skirt soaked, a small puddle forming beneath her under the garage’s harsh light.

She screamed, scrambling to cover her skirt, but in her panic, she yanked it up, exposing more wet stains.

Her cheeks burned, shame crashing over her. She wanted to vanish into the floor.

Liu Wangjiang saw it all.

Confirmed: she’s a masochist.

A chuunibyou masochist.

First, she knelt and licked his finger in public. Then she cornered him with bizarre accusations. Now… this?

What does she think she is? A sex toy?

Where did Lu Qingqi find this freak?

Liu Wangjiang had never felt humanity’s diversity so keenly.

“Asshole, don’t leave! Something’s wrong with you!” Lu Qingqi reached out as he moved to his car, but the lingering aftershocks left her trembling, her hand falling limp.