Quick Transmigration: Only You Are the Desire of My Heart

The soft click of the automatic door closing startled Song Qingyin from her reverie. She turned to thank him, only to find Ji Yubai leaning against the sliding door of the balcony, peeling mints. The sea breeze lifted the hem of his shirt, revealing half of his lean waistline.

"Want to try out the mattress?" He folded a candy wrapper into a small boat. "Your brother said you're particular about the type of bed you sleep in."

Song Qingyin subconsciously took a half step back, her calf bumping into the pebble-shaped beanbag chair.

Ji Yubai chuckled softly, the light reflecting off his watch dappling the top of her head. "Just kidding." He suddenly bent down and pressed a button on the bedside table, and the entire wall of projection screen slowly unfolded. "But if you really can't sleep—"

The remote control traced a parabola in the air. "There are more than three thousand movies stored here."

When Song Qingyin caught it, her fingers touched his slightly cool fingertips. The moment the minty scent brushed past her nose, she heard her heartbeat shatter the sound of crashing waves.

“Or, you can let me stay with you—” He bent down slightly, whispering in her ear like a lover, “I’ll do anything.”

Upon hearing this, Song Qingyin stared wide-eyed in astonishment, instinctively taking a step back. The moment the remote control slipped from her hand, she stumbled and fell into the fluffy beanbag chair.

The pebble-shaped cushions engulfed half her body, and the coral pink skirt billowed up to her knees, brushing against the carpet. As she hurriedly brought her legs together, her hair tie got caught on a velvet cushion, and her dark hair spread out like seaweed over her shoulders.

"I...I need to pack my luggage..."

The last syllable of her voice was crushed by Ji Yubai's low chuckle. He leaned over, one knee pressed against the edge of the sofa, his wristwatch chain dangling and swaying gently, like a pendulum striking her chaotic pulse.

Song Qingyin shrank back in vain, her neck pressed against the cold glass wall—it turned out that the beanbag chair was right next to the entire floor-to-ceiling window.

"What are you hiding from?" He suddenly tapped her burning earlobe with the remote control. "I meant I'd help you pick out a movie."

The scent of mints mingled with the words, swirling around the air conditioner vents. "Horror movie? Romance? Or..."

Song Qingyin suddenly grabbed the embroidered daisies on her skirt. The linen fabric made a slight tearing sound, but it was not as jarring as her rapid breathing at that moment.

Ji Yubai suddenly looked away, his Adam's apple bobbing heavily twice. He straightened up, leaning against the back of the sofa, his white-knuckled fingertips betraying his restraint.

"Just kidding."

The glass window reflected his movements as he straightened his cuffs, smoothing out the wrinkles three times before stopping. Song Qingyin seized the opportunity to turn over and kneel up, but was trapped in the halo of light by the shadow he cast.

Ji Yubai was adjusting the air conditioner temperature with his eyes downcast, the curve of his lips more flamboyant than the swaying palm leaves outside the window.

"Is 26 degrees Celsius okay?" He turned his back to the control panel, the stray hairs at the back of his neck trembling slightly with the movement. "Any hotter..."

The unspoken words were swallowed up by the sudden roar of the waves. Song Qingyin curled up in a ball, clutching the ends of her hair, and finally saw the sweat stains on the back of his white shirt.

It turns out that this person's composure was all an act.

This discovery made her suddenly smile, only to be caught red-handed by Ji Yubai, who had turned around.

"What are you laughing at?" He raised an eyebrow and tossed her a can of chilled orange juice. The condensation on the aluminum can landed right on her collarbone. "You little ingrate."

Song Qingyin hurriedly caught the drink, the cool liquid trickling down her collar and into her heart. She didn't see Ji Yubai's suddenly tightening knuckles, nor did she notice his unsteady steps as he left—only when the door closed softly did she dare bury her burning face in the cedar-scented cushion.

The coolness of the orange juice can still lingered on Song Qingyin's fingertips when a sharp "beep beep" suddenly exploded in her mind.

Qingyu danced wildly in her sea of ​​consciousness, her pale blue energy exploding into fireworks: "Host, look at his Adam's apple! He just swallowed three times! Three times!!"

"Quiet..." she murmured to herself, grinding her teeth against the straw.

"Did you see the definition in his forearm muscles when he loosened his tie? In our system, that's something you'd have to pay to see!"

The jade's energy tentacles coiled into a twisted shape, and a 360-degree surround stereoscopic image suddenly popped up on the projection screen, analyzing Ji Yubai's movements as he leaned against the sofa frame by frame: "Textbook-level hormone release! Look, look, look! The curve of his taut lower back—he's definitely practiced this pose!"

"And another thing, he... he... he just saw his Adam's apple bob! Host, did you see that?! The shadow of his shirt collar when he bent over! And that little gesture of pretending to adjust the air conditioner when he was actually calming his breathing!"

The sphere of light suddenly split into seventeen or eighteen afterimages, piecing together a full-body analysis of Ji Yubai on the virtual screen. "This acting skill would be rated S-class in a quick transmigration drama!"

Song Qingyin pretended to fix her bangs to cover her twitching mouth, her nails digging fiercely into her palms.

Qingyu had already switched to holographic projection mode, running wildly on a virtual beach with a chibi version of Ji Yubai's face: "awsl! This kind of subtle flirting is more lethal than a direct approach! Host, your heart rate just spiked to 128, are you alright? Should I fake a heart attack...?"

Song Qingyin choked on a mouthful of orange juice, and in her haste to grab a tissue, she knocked over a decorative glass bottle. Mint leaves, mixed with dew, rolled onto the table, much like the jumbled thoughts she was having just had, disturbed by Qingyu.

"Host, your ears are red! According to data analysis, you should now..."

"Close, shut, share, feeling." She mentally punctuated each word, silencing the system's incessant screams, and fiercely bit the straw until it left teeth marks.

But then Qingyu switched to vibration mode, and a tap dance-like sound throbbed in her temples.

What has this guy been watching lately?

Suddenly, the sound of Ji Yubai's footsteps turning back came from outside the door.

Song Qingyin sat up abruptly, grabbed the remote control, and randomly pressed the projector buttons. The moment the screen lit up, Qingyu suddenly emitted a buzzing sound like boiling water—the first line of the playlist was "The Perfumer's Secret," with the cover featuring an ambiguous scene of the male and female leads cornering against a wall.

"Host, look! Even his movie list is hinting at something..."

"Snapped!"

Song Qingyin slapped the control panel shut and buried herself in a pile of cushions like an ostrich.

"Quiet," Song Qingyin gritted her teeth in her mind. "If you make any more noise, I'll put you in solitary confinement."

This feature was added after Qingyu's latest upgrade, and it's surprisingly useful.

The jade instantly shrank to the size of a marble, but it was still flashing Morse code: "Clap, hit, land, yum".

Song Qingyin grabbed a pillow and buried her face in it, finally letting out a few muffled laughs. The laugh stopped abruptly on the third note—Ji Yubai had opened the door at some point and was now leaning against the doorframe, tossing a box of mints around.

"So happy?" He flicked a strawberry milk candy with his finger, the heart-shaped sticker on the wrapper glaringly bright. "I thought you were angry."

Song Qingyin stared at the candy that had rolled down to her knees, finally understanding why Qingyu had gone crazy like a kettle. This man even apologized as if he were flirting.