QT: I hijacked a harem system and now I'm ruining every plot(GL)-Chapter 49: Descent

Jiang Wei’s POV

>"Look, I don’t have to tell you anything. I’m leaving."

My voice is sharp—too sharp—but I don’t bother softening it.

I shove the van door open and step out, the slam echoing behind me as if sealing off everything I don’t want to hear. The humid night air hits my face, a welcome change from the suffocating atmosphere inside.

Lately, my manager has been... overbearing. That’s putting it lightly.

Every interaction is scrutinized. Every outing, questioned. Every female colleague, treated like a potential scandal waiting to happen. It’s exhausting.

I get it—after the fallout from everything with Jiang Yuxi, public opinion is on a tightrope. But this? This isn’t management. This is surveillance.

I tug my baseball cap lower and shove my hands into my pockets, hoping the growing buzz of frustration doesn’t make me reckless.

>"Jiang Wei!"

Her voice cuts through the parking lot, sharp and concerned.

>"You didn’t tell me you were going to that event last night. What if paparazzi show up? You can’t afford more damage right now."

I turn back, barely able to keep the irritation from my face.

>"So what, I’m a prisoner now?" fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com

She falters.

>"That’s not what I meant—"

>"Then stop treating me like a child," I snap, voice low.

> "I’m not your responsibility. I’m your job."

Her face falls, and for a moment, I see the cracks in her carefully kept professionalism. She looks tired. More tired than I’ve ever seen her. But I don’t have the space to care right now.

>"You’ve been... different," she says quietly.

>"Since Jessica."

Her voice doesn’t accuse, but the hurt is woven into every syllable. I feel it—dull and heavy, pressing into the space between us.

I run a hand through my hair, sighing.

Jessica. This is exactly why I want her in my life.

She’s effortless. She doesn’t demand anything from me—not answers, not commitment, not even clarity. She floats in and out like a breeze, and for once, I feel free. Untethered.

I turn slightly to face Meyu, but I don’t meet her eyes.

>"I need space," I say.

The words come out more detached than I mean them to, but I don’t take them back. I don’t soften them.

I walk away.

Her silence follows me like a ghost.

Outside, the sun is starting to set. I shove my hands into my jacket pockets, walking nowhere in particular, just needing distance.

From her.

From everything.

I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.

Except I do.

I want Jessica because she’s not part of the narrative. Because she doesn’t look at me like I’m supposed to be something more than I am.

*

>"Why the long face?"

The voice is smooth, teasing, and unmistakably accented. I blink, the late afternoon sun flaring in my eyes as I look up from the swing I’ve been absentmindedly rocking.

Jessica.

There she stands, the very picture of effortless elegance—her blonde hair pulled into a loose twist, a few strands falling across her cheek before she tucks them behind her ear with a casual grace.

She’s wearing oversized sunglasses and a cream-colored coat cinched neatly at the waist, as if she stepped off the cover of some high-end fashion editorial.

And yet, she fits in perfectly with the quiet park, the falling leaves, the golden light filtering through the trees.

>"What are you doing here?" I ask, my voice coming out rougher than intended.

She shrugs, her red-painted lips curling into a faint smile.

>"You didn’t sound okay."

I blink again.

>"How did you even know where I was?"

Jessica lifts a brow and taps the side of her phone.

>"You texted me. Then didn’t reply. Which is... unlike you."

I glance away, letting my fingers wrap around the cold chain of the swing.

>"Didn’t think it mattered."

>"It did," she says simply.

Then she steps forward and lowers herself onto the swing beside me. The chains creak beneath her as she pushes off gently with the toes of her heels, the motion unhurried, almost childlike.

For a while, there’s only silence between us. The distant chatter of people walking by, the rustle of wind in the trees, the occasional bark of a dog.

>"You look like someone kicked your puppy," she says after a beat, glancing at me from behind her sunglasses.

I let out a short laugh. It’s hollow.

>"It’s stupid," I mutter.

Jessica tilts her head.

>"Isn’t everything, eventually?"

I look at her. Really look at her. There’s something unsettling about how easily she slips into these moments. How she can be flirty and aloof, and then—just like that—drop into something that almost feels genuine.

>"Never mind," I mutter, shaking my head.

Jessica tilts hers, watching me like she’s trying to figure out whether I’m worth pressing further. For a moment, I think she will. That she’ll poke and prod with her usual too-sharp tongue.

But instead, she just shrugs, the fabric of her coat rustling softly.

> "Suit yourself."

She kicks off from the ground again, her swing creaking into motion, her movements lazy, relaxed. Her expression teasing, lips curving into that slow, dangerous smile she wears like second skin.

Seductive without effort. Effortless without care.

> "Are you too low in spirits to have fun with me?" she asks, head tilting to the side, golden hair falling over her shoulder like silk.

>"Or has our darling actor finally lost his charm?"

I huff a laugh despite myself.

"Definitely not."

She hums, pleased. Her feet dig into the ground and she slows the swing, then rises to her feet and walks over to me, heels clicking softly against the path. She leans down slightly, close enough that I can smell her perfume—expensive, subtle, but undeniably bold.

>"Then prove it."

My brow lifts.

It’s dangerous. This chemistry, whatever is happening here I know it.

I know it.

But damn if it doesn’t sound like the kind of danger I need right now.

>"Where to?" I ask.

She pulls back, grinning like the devil in heels.

>"I’ll drive."

And I follow her—because if I’m going to spiral, I might as well enjoy the descent.