Shen Qinghan Breaks Down, Stays Out All Night

Arcade.

"Give it up, young mistress."

"Clank."

"It's getting late. If we don't head back soon, the dorm will be locked."

"Clank, clank."

"Tell you what, pick one you like and I'll grab it for you, alright?"

"Clank, clank, clank..."

"Miss, maybe we should—"

"BANG BANG BANG!!!"

Ye Cheng flinched, cold sweat beading on his forehead, and immediately shut his mouth.

Amidst the back-and-forth, Shen Qinghan emptied the small metal bucket of all its game tokens.

Every time she started, the crisp "clank" of a coin dropping into the machine would ring out, followed by Shen Qinghan maneuvering the claw of the crane game with intense focus.

A few seconds later, the same sound would echo again.

Failure.

The word "FAILURE" might as well have been stamped across Shen Qinghan's face.

Under normal circumstances, Ye Cheng would have been laughing his head off at this spectacle. But right now, he didn’t dare.

The ruthless young mistress before him seemed on the verge of losing her mind.

The relentless "bang bang bang" was the sound of her smacking the crane game machine in frustration.

Gulp.

Ye Cheng swallowed hard, almost convinced he could hear the machine whimpering in pain.

Why did you have to provoke her? Just let her win one, would it kill you?

As for how things had escalated to this point, we’d have to rewind the clock two or three hours.

It all started when Ye Cheng snagged the first plushie with just two tokens. From that moment, Shen Qinghan seemed possessed.

Without a word, she sent Ye Cheng to exchange 500 yuan worth of tokens and then silently, stubbornly, began her one-woman crusade against the crane game.

At first, Ye Cheng found it amusing.

Who would’ve thought the icy, ruthless young mistress had a soft spot for something as childish as crane games?

How adorable.

But half an hour in, he started noticing something odd.

How… had she not won a single one yet?

An hour later, the machine was taking occasional beatings from the furious young mistress, creaking and groaning under the abuse.

Ye Cheng’s grinning amusement faded fast.

Things were taking a dark turn.

Shen Qinghan wasn’t just bad—she was catastrophically hopeless.

A hundred tokens tossed in, and not a single plushie to show for it. Just the endless symphony of "clank" and "bang bang bang."

For two or three agonizing hours, Ye Cheng endured the noise.

Finally, he checked the time.

The dorm curfew was approaching.

Summoning his courage, he cautiously suggested to the increasingly unhinged young mistress that maybe, just maybe, it was time to call it quits.

Shen Qinghan was beyond listening. Her dark, frosty eyes were locked onto the crane’s claw with lethal intensity.

The claw descended, and her gaze followed.

The claw rose—empty, just like every other time. Not even a single strand of fluff.

Down and up, same as always.

Shen Qinghan showed no signs of frustration. She simply reached into the small metal bucket, ready to try again.

"Hm?"

Her hand found nothing.

The bucket was empty.

Five hundred yuan. Five hundred attempts. Five hundred failures.

Not. A. Single. Win.

Shen Qinghan took a deep breath.

"Go exchange another 500 yuan in tokens."

Ye Cheng: "..."

Seriously, dude? Five hundred tries and still no luck? You're going again?

Ye Cheng dug out twenty game tokens from his pocket and handed them to Shen Qinghan.

"Miss, after these last twenty tokens, let's call it a day, alright? Otherwise, we won't make it back in time. We’ll get locked out, end up sleeping on the streets, and get penalized by the evil student council."

Shen Qinghan didn’t respond, her gaze fixed intently on the tokens in Ye Cheng’s hand.

Ye Cheng seemed to realize something.

He pointed to a young girl nearby.

"These twenty tokens aren’t from you, Miss. I traded them for that plushie I grabbed earlier."

Shen Qinghan followed Ye Cheng’s finger and looked over.

Sure enough.

The pink plushie Ye Cheng had been holding earlier was now in the hands of a younger girl, who looked like a high schooler.

For Ye Cheng, trading a two-dollar plushie for twenty tokens was an absolute steal.

Exchanging for more tokens would mean another trip, and given Shen Qinghan’s current state, even five hundred more attempts might not guarantee success.

By the time those five hundred tries were up, it’d already be midnight.

Better to use these last twenty tokens to crush Shen Qinghan’s hopes once and for all.

Shen Qinghan withdrew her gaze, snatched the tokens from Ye Cheng’s hand, and resumed her quest for the plushie.

Clank.

Clank, clank.

Clank, clank, clank…

As the tokens dwindled, sweat beaded on Ye Cheng’s forehead. A sense of foreboding crept over him.

Before long, Shen Qinghan was down to her last token.

In silence, she inserted the final token into the machine and began yet another attempt.

Clank.

"Game start! Control me to grab your favorite plushie!"

This was it—the last, fate-deciding token.

Ye Cheng’s heart leaped into his throat.

Come on, claw machine, do your thing—for my sake!

Under Shen Qinghan’s control, and with Ye Cheng’s hopeful gaze fixed upon it…

It failed again.

No miracle occurred.

Miracles were just fairy tales for kids.

The moment the plushie dropped, Ye Cheng felt as if the usually composed Shen Qinghan had quietly shattered into pieces.

Shen Qinghan clenched her fist. This time, she wasn’t aiming for the control panel—she swung straight at the tempered glass.

Ye Cheng reacted swiftly, wrapping his arms around her from behind.

"Miss, you can’t do that! If you break the machine, we’ll have to pay for it!"

"I have money," Shen Qinghan stated flatly.

Ye Cheng: "???"

Is that how it works?

Damn rich people—do they think money gives them the right to act like this?

Ugh, why can’t there be one more rich person in this world? Preferably me!

Shen Qinghan struggled stubbornly, dragging Ye Cheng along as she tried to punch the glass again.

Clearly, she’d reached her breaking point.

Even someone as composed as Shen Qinghan could only take so much before snapping.

She had shattered quietly.

But one thing was certain—if Shen Qinghan was broken, this machine had to break too. Otherwise, the scheming young mistress would never let it go.

Shen Qinghan was surprisingly strong. Even with only one foot planted, she kept pulling Ye Cheng toward the machine.

As they inched closer to the point of no return—where the ruthless young mistress would unleash her fury—Ye Cheng hurriedly spoke up.

"Don't get worked up, young mistress. We still have one last chance."

As he spoke, Ye Cheng quickly pulled out the last remaining game token from his pocket.

Good thing he had held onto one as a backup.

Shen Qinghan paused at his words, then reached out and snatched the coin from him, tossing it into the machine with a clink.

Clank.

She sat down, gripping the joystick and buttons, her hand poised to slam down—

Slap!

Her raised wrist was caught by Ye Cheng.

"Wait, young mistress. You won’t catch anything like this," Ye Cheng hurriedly interjected.

This was their final chance, and judging by the dark look on the young mistress's face, it was probably already doomed. If they failed again, the machine was as good as smashed. Call it kindness—Ye Cheng figured he might as well save the poor machine from further torment.

Shen Qinghan glared coldly. "Are you lecturing me?"

Ye Cheng: "..."

Look at you, always so impatient.

"What I mean is, young mistress, you’re naturally brilliant. You’ve come so close so many times, just missing by a hair. With just a tiny, insignificant bit of my help, maybe you’ll finally snag that doll."

Ye Cheng was flexing his silver tongue.

"I prefer to get things myself," Shen Qinghan muttered, turning her head away.

Her hands remained on the controls, neither moving nor letting go.

Ye Cheng instantly understood.

She had relented—or at least compromised. Shen Qinghan knew that if she kept going like this, she could spend an eternity and still not grab a single doll.

So, she might as well listen to Ye Cheng.

But… a proud mafia heiress would never admit defeat. Thus, Ye Cheng had to phrase it in a way she could accept.

Luckily, the young mistress wasn’t entirely unreasonable. She had loosened up.

Ye Cheng exhaled in relief, stepping closer to wrap his arms around her from behind.

His larger hands enveloped hers—small, delicate, and cool to the touch—as he guided her movements.

"Young mistress, see how flimsy this claw is?"

"Hmph."

"Exactly. A weak claw means it doesn’t have much grip. It’s less about grabbing the doll and more about hooking it..."

Ye Cheng explained while maneuvering Shen Qinghan’s hands over the controls.

Shen Qinghan’s focus wavered. Though her eyes were fixed ahead, she wasn’t looking at the machine—she was staring at Ye Cheng’s hands covering hers.

The warmth radiating from behind him, the broadness of his frame—her usually icy face flushed with an uncharacteristic pink.

The moment didn’t last long.

Shen Qinghan quickly snapped back to attention, immersing herself in Ye Cheng’s instructions and the rhythm of the game.

"Now, young mistress—hit it!" Ye Cheng’s voice rang in her ear.

Slap!