Qiu Yingying is reborn and bound to a learning system.

After the company's annual party ended, the department dragged them out for another round of drinks. The private room was brightly lit and filled with alcohol, and everyone was having a great time. Qiu Yingying also joined in, drinking one glass after another. She wasn't actually a big drinker, but she was having so much fun chatting tonight, and the atmosphere got to her, and she ended up drinking too much while laughing.

It was almost midnight when the party ended. She was walking unsteadily, but still had a polite smile on her face. She insisted that she was fine, "Really, there's no need to see me off. My home is nearby. I can just take a taxi home." Her colleagues were worried, but she waved them off, picked up her bag, and walked straight towards the elevator, looking as calm as if she had only had two glasses of juice.

The underground parking garage was dimly lit, the air thick with the smell of gasoline and damp, chilly air. Qiu Yingying pulled out her phone; the words on the screen hurt her eyes. She squinted, her fingers tapping randomly, but she couldn't find the ride-hailing app icon. She didn't panic, just frowned, and looked down intently at the screen, as if processing an important report.

Not far away, Meng Yanchen was also leaning against the wall, walking forward step by step.

He had been tricked into drinking drugged wine tonight, and his head felt heavy, but his body felt like it was on fire. He forced himself to stay awake, his face as calm as ever, and he even noticed that his tie was a little crooked. He reached out and slowly tugged at it, his movements as composed as if he had just finished a meeting.

He took out his phone, intending to call a designated driver, but his fingers seemed to have a mind of their own, and the screen split in two in front of him. He frowned, blinked patiently, and looked at the screen again, as if he were looking at a complicated contract.

A designated car slowly pulled up, and the driver rolled down the window. "Excuse me, is this the designated driver Mr. Meng called?"

Meng Yanchen glanced at him, his eyes unusually clear, and nodded, "Mm."

The driver then looked at Qiu Yingying, who was standing not far away, and asked, "Miss, would you like to get on the bus as well?"

Qiu Yingying looked up at Meng Yanchen, then at the driver, gave a polite smile, and nodded. "Okay, together."

Her voice was calm, even carrying a hint of her usual professionalism, showing no sign of drunkenness.

The driver paused for a moment, then asked again, "Do you know each other?"

Qiu Yingying and Meng Yanchen nodded at the same time.

Qiu Yingying's reason was simple—the person in front of her was wearing a suit and looked like "one of our own"; Meng Yanchen, on the other hand, was in a state of confusion and only felt that the woman in front of him looked somewhat familiar, like an employee of some department in the company, so he nodded as well.

The two walked side by side to the back seat of the car, their steps a little unsteady, but they both tried to keep their balance. They looked like colleagues who had just worked late and were sharing a taxi home.

After getting in the car, Qiu Yingying naturally fastened her seatbelt, leaned back in her seat, closed her eyes to rest, and breathed steadily; Meng Yanchen turned his head to look out the window, his eyes deep and his face expressionless, except for the fingers holding his phone, which were slightly white from the force.

The car was quiet, with only the sound of the air conditioner.

The driver glanced at them in the rearview mirror and thought the two of them were quite strange—they both looked perfectly normal, even exuding an air of sophistication, but something just felt off.

The car quickly arrived at Meng Yanchen's building.

The two helped each other out of the car, their movements somewhat stiff, yet both striving to maintain a dignified appearance. Qiu Yingying's hand rested on Meng Yanchen's arm, as if she were helping a colleague who had sprained her ankle; Meng Yanchen, in turn, slightly turned to shield her from a passing car, his gentlemanly manner impeccable.

As Qiu Yingying stepped into the elevator, she looked at the fluctuating numbers and suddenly felt a little dizzy. She subconsciously shook her head, but quickly regained her composure, as if her hair had just been ruffled by the wind.

Meng Yanchen's face grew paler and paler, but fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. He raised his hand and gently wiped his forehead with his fingertips, the movement as elegant as wiping his glasses.

Upon opening the door, Meng Yanchen didn't turn on the lights as usual; instead, he instinctively went to the bathroom. He knew he wasn't in the right state and needed cold water.

His steps were steady, and he could even bend down at the entrance to neatly place the keys in the tray, his movements meticulous.

Qiu Yingying followed behind him, like a guest who had been tacitly allowed to enter. She glanced around the living room, nodded, and objectively commented in her mind—the decoration was quite simple, in line with the "minimalist" style.

She smelled alcohol on herself, frowned, and naturally walked towards the bathroom. "I'll take a shower first."

Her tone was as calm as if she were saying, "I'm going to a meeting first."

Meng Yanchen didn't object; he simply nodded and then forgot about it, as if he were approving a work process.

In the bathroom, Meng Yanchen turned on the tap, and cold water gushed into the bathtub. He unbuttoned his shirt, the movements slow and elegant, revealing his well-defined chest and abdominal muscles. His skin was very white, but it was flushed with an unnatural redness due to the heat within him, and the veins on his chest muscles bulged slightly, making him look both ascetic and dangerous.

He lay down in the cold water, exhaled a long breath, his eyes still clear, but a suppressed pain lurked deep within them. He closed his eyes, leaned against the edge of the bathtub, and tried to calm himself down.

The medicine, however, was like an invisible hand, gripping him tightly.

His body began to heat up uncontrollably, and cold water seemed to have no effect. But he gritted his teeth, trying not to make a sound, and continued to resist, biting his lips until they were red and even bled a little.

Just then, the bathroom door opened.

Qiu Yingying stood in the doorway, her dress already removed, leaving only her undergarments. Her skin was very fair, glowing softly in the dim light; her legs were long and slender, her figure curvaceous, and her fingers long and thin. She tossed her hair clip onto the sink. A slight flush from the alcohol lingered on her face, her eyes glazed, yet she tried to maintain her composure, as if she had simply changed into more comfortable clothes.

Her hazy eyes glanced at Meng Yanchen in the bathtub, then at her own clothes. She frowned, thought seriously for a moment, and said, "It's so hot... I can take some more off."

Meng Yanchen opened his eyes and saw her like this. His pupils contracted slightly. Reason told him that he should let her leave immediately, but he could only say in a trembling voice: Go, go. But the heat in his body made his throat tight and he could not say anything else.

Before he could speak, Qiu Yingying had already stepped into the bathtub.

The bathtub was large, but it still felt a bit cramped for two people to lie in.

As soon as Qiu Yingying lay down, she wanted to cool off, but the moment she put her foot in the water, she was jolted by the cold.

She froze for a moment.

The feel of it... was completely different from what she had imagined.

It's firm, but not uncomfortable; it's elastic, and when you place your palm on it, you can feel the shape and strength of the muscles underneath.

In her entire life, including her previous one, she had never truly touched a man's chest and abdominal muscles.

Curiosity and alcohol combined to make her lose control.

As if she had discovered some novel toy, she unconsciously squeezed it again, then slowly slid it upwards, exploring along the lines of the muscles little by little, her palms able to clearly feel the undulations of every inch of the muscle.

"Hmm... this chicken leg is so tough." She commented earnestly, her voice carrying a hint of childlike curiosity. "But... it's quite bouncy."

She even lowered her head and gently poked his abs with her fingertip, as if to confirm if it was true.

Meng Yanchen shuddered, his eyes snapping open in terror. He reached out, trying to push her away, but he was too weak. "No..."

His voice was extremely low and hoarse, with a barely perceptible gasp.

Qiu Yingying was drunk but surprisingly strong, and she hugged him even tighter. "Don't move, I'm cold."

Her face was pressed against his chest, and she could clearly hear his strong heartbeat, like a drumbeat. She felt very safe, so she snuggled closer to him, but her hands were still lingering unconsciously on his chest and abdomen, as if she couldn't bear to let go.

Meng Yanchen could clearly feel her soft body pressed against him, the sweet scent of alcohol in her breath, and her hands roaming restlessly over his body. Each touch felt like a fire, igniting his already taut nerves.

Reason is crumbling little by little.

As if that wasn't enough, Qiu Yingying raised her head again, rubbed against his neck in a daze, and then, as if unconsciously, stuck out her tongue and licked his Adam's apple.

That moment was like igniting a fuse for explosives.

The two of them didn't know who started it, but then the sounds of things getting out of control rang out.

The sound of rushing water in the bathroom mingled with the rapid breathing of the two people, echoing in the small space.

In their hazy state of consciousness, no one knew who made the first move; they only knew that their physical instincts overwhelmed all reason.

The two were like two stubborn little beasts, neither willing to admit defeat. In a daze, they both felt like they were fighting. Qiu Yingying's drive to do things emerged, and Meng Yanchen's desire for control beneath his gentle exterior also appeared. With the determination to win, the two insisted on fighting to the end amidst the interplay of cold water and hot air, and the battlefield moved from the bathroom to the bedroom.