QTIMP -Chapter 146 Character Persona – Love Brained (Part 17)

“I probably won’t get married in this lifetime. After all, a normal person likely wouldn’t be able to handle the way I love someone. But if I don’t love them, then there’s no need to force myself to stay with that person.”

Si Qiu withdrew her gaze, her fingers lightly tracing the rim of the glass. Suddenly, her aunt pulled her into an embrace, gently patting her back.

“Qiuqiu, it’s my brother—that bastard—who wronged you. He failed to take responsibility as a father and a husband, which is why you’ve developed such views on love and marriage. But your aunt supports your way of thinking. Men are consumables, not necessities. As long as you’re happy, anything is fine. In the future, your aunt can support you—after all, my beauty salon is making quite a lot these days.”

Si Anqi placed all the blame on her brother, Si Yanan. And it wasn’t just her—everyone in the Si family thought the same. They all felt they owed this child something.

Si Qiu was genuinely moved. She hugged her back and patted her lightly. “Aunt, did you forget? I also have shares in your beauty salon. Plus, with the rent from my properties, your niece won’t be going hungry anytime soon.”

When Si Anqi had first talked about opening the beauty salon, Si Qiu had provided a few ancient formulas—mainly for beauty and skincare—claiming she found them in old texts.

She came from a background in medical cultivation, and as a girl herself, she had always been interested in such things. Naturally, she had plenty of such formulas.

Si Anqi had people test them, and they turned out to be not only effective but also safe. They had now become the highest-end services in her salon.

That was why she directly gave Si Qiu shares. Since she had still been a minor at the time, the dividends were managed by Song Qian each year. But this spring, when Si Qiu came of age, the shares were officially transferred to her name.

After this heartfelt conversation, the aunt and niece grew even closer, practically interacting like best friends.

The next day, Si Qiu didn’t go to the Zhou family. Instead, she went to Si Yanan’s company again—first to check on Tian Shuang’s work situation, then to her own office prepared by her father.

The office was 42 square meters, divided into two sections. One part was a lounge, while the other served as the workspace, furnished with a large desk.

Directly facing the desk was a small sofa and a coffee table. To the left of the sofa was a mini fridge, and to the right, a snack cabinet. There was also a four-square-meter restroom.

Si Qiu first greeted the secretary and learned that her father was in a meeting, so she didn’t disturb him. Instead, she went straight into her office, took some fruit from the fridge, and grabbed a few snacks.

After sitting down, she took out her laptop, stretched her fingers, and logged into an encrypted website. The first thing she did was send a message to her master.

This person was ranked second on the hacker leaderboard—Z. She had stumbled upon the hacker site by accident and met Z, then began learning hacking techniques under him.

After two or three years, Si Qiu felt she had learned quite well. People on the hacker rankings were also willing to privately exchange technical insights with her.

After all, she would occasionally hint at some advanced money-making ideas. In this world, money can’t solve everything—but without it, you can solve even less.

Don’t assume hackers make a lot of money—it’s not that easy. The key is having high-end computers and all kinds of equipment, which actually costs quite a lot.

Seeing that her master hadn’t replied, she browsed through the recently posted tasks. Most of the tasks there brushed against legal boundaries, though not all were illegal.

Just by looking at the variety of tasks posted, one could glimpse certain hidden information. So whenever she wasn’t busy, Si Qiu would often browse this site.

As she scrolled through the information, she folded little paper stars with her hands. Beside her sat a large glass jar, nearly filled to the brim.

The stars were colorful, and under the sunlight, they looked quite beautiful.

As for why she was folding these stars—of course, they were meant for Zhou Chenyu. Humming a little love song, she seemed to be surrounded by pink bubbles of happiness.

Whenever she found something interesting, she would occasionally send him a message about it.

After Zhou Chenyu finished a round of studying in the morning and wanted to drink some water and rest his eyes, he picked up his phone—there were already more than thirty messages.

His second brother was home all day today, so he could only pick out a few important ones to reply to. After spending the past few days together, he had clearly realized—his second brother didn’t like him constantly playing on his phone.

The moment Si Qiu saw his replies, she knew he was taking a break. But compared to before, she felt he was being somewhat perfunctory.

She pouted unhappily. Of course, she wouldn’t let herself feel wronged, so she sent him a message to complain. Zhou Chenyu scratched his head anxiously and hurried to explain.

He poured out all kinds of sweet words and promises as if they cost nothing, and only then did Si Qiu forgive him.

Just then, he suddenly heard his eldest cousin calling him. He quickly told Si Qiu, “My cousin is calling me back to discuss current affairs.”

After turning off his phone and putting it into his pocket, he suddenly felt a sense of relief. However, Zhou Chengyu noticed it—frowning slightly, he tapped his finger on the desk.

Zhou Chenyu could only dejectedly place his phone on the desk. Then, forcing a smile, he said cheerfully, “Big brother, I’ll go to the restroom for a bit.”

He had been so busy chatting with Si Qiu just now that he had completely forgotten about it.

Zhou Chengyu glanced at him, then lowered his head to continue reading. Zhou Chenyu quickly turned and went to the restroom.

Meanwhile, Si Qiu, sensing a trace of his inattentiveness, immediately felt her mood drop. She had the urge to bombard him with messages.

But it seemed she forcefully suppressed that impulse.

Fiddling with a newly folded star, Si Qiu felt that the more worlds she experienced, the more she was influenced by her “persona.”

She dropped the star into the jar, then tightened the lid, tying a beautiful bow with a ribbon around the mouth of the bottle.

She took a photo with her phone and sent it as an MMS, arranging to deliver it to Zhou Chenyu in the afternoon.

She hadn’t expected a reply—at least not until his noon break when he would check his phone again. But unexpectedly, he replied with just one word: “Okay.”

It felt strange and abrupt. Zhou Chenyu wasn’t exactly talkative, but when it came to her, he usually responded thoughtfully. A one-word reply, in her eyes, felt like perfunctory dismissal.

Her fingers quickly flew across the screen as she sent another message: “Then it’s settled. I’ll come over at 11:30. Zhou Chenyu, is your brother keeping an eye on you? Your replies feel so perfunctory!”

This message received no reply, but Si Qiu didn’t mind.

When Zhou Chenyu returned from the restroom, he saw that his older brother had placed his phone aside. He simply assumed that it had been turned off.