Miss Beautiful C.E.O and her system

All these debates and dialogues about gender—what were they really for?

Rights and responsibilities.

For every right one inherited by birth, nature demanded a corresponding responsibility: to reciprocate that gift and contribute to the well-being of others, so that civilization could thrive. Those who failed to do so—and hurt innocents in the process—were scum by nature. Be it emotional harm, physical harm, or manipulation, the damage was all the same.

The philosophy was simple. But people preferred to stand on the moral high ground while enjoying unearned benefits, exploiting others through social, emotional, or political means for their own gain.

Ling Qingyu exhaled and remembered—she hadn't yet asked what Xiao Yue and Tang Ziyi thought about it all.

After all, these two women had long surpassed the definitions she once held of "what a woman is supposed to be." Since coming to this world, her views had changed, evolved, even sublimated.

Birds of a feather flock together, as the saying went—and indeed, Ling Qingyu rarely found fools among her friends. Talented people shared sympathy and emotion. They competed in silence—through friendship, growth, and their achievements—not through malice or vanity. That was her measure. That was how she saw worth.

So she enjoyed deciphering the thoughts of strong women—especially those who earned their strength not by perception, but by proof.

Everyone has their own strength, forged from their lived experiences. But the kind Ling Qingyu respected was different: it was the strength of warriors—those who had shed blood, sweat, and tears and had nearly lost their lives to their cause.

Those were the truly strong. Warriors. Survivors of disaster. "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger"? Perhaps. But the truth was deeper—life and death changed a person in ways no outsider could comprehend.

Ling Qingyu knew she wasn't quite like the other two—women who had once danced atop the edge of cold steel. Still, she had her own moments. The robbery incident with Yin Jingfei… the blood-rushing sniper duel… they had reshaped her mindset, forged her beliefs in fire.

That robbery had made her a warrioress. Cheat or not, she hadn't known whether her body could survive a bullet. It was a brush with death, plain and simple. The sniper duel was the same. Even with Tang Ziyi comforting her, she hadn't known the outcome in advance. She'd been prepared to risk everything.

Now, with nothing exciting in sight, a mix of boredom and curiosity swirled inside her. The boredom came from the bland surroundings. The curiosity came from Xiao Yue—the woman beside her, the warlord whose mind always spun with strange, sharp perspectives.

Apart from the strange fact that killing people—sometimes even with her bare hands—barely stirred a reaction in her, Ling Qingyu was astounded by how little it affected her. No nausea. No vomiting. Just silence. In that eerie calm, she realized she had truly transcended.

Totally in contrast to those novels and movies.

So Ling Qingyu finally spoke up.

"Xiao Yue, I'm kinda curious about your thoughts on all this."

The topic was ambiguous on purpose, though the tone hinted at their ongoing musings about gender, rights, and war. Perhaps she was reflecting on arguments from her past life—conscription, voting rights, and those infamous online jokes about feminists suddenly cooking as soon as war broke out. The so-called trump cards of gender, rooted in "natural roles." Men created the world's structures. Women created humanity. And vice versa.

To Ling Qingyu, arguments like that weren't particularly meaningful. Outside of dignity and the useless urge to be "right," most people—men or women—were simply too busy dealing with life to care.

The ones who did pay attention were often those carrying emotional resentment. And when two resentments met on the same wavelength, the validation could feel like salvation.

At the end of the day, it was a lack of empathy and appreciation that had led to the current dilemma. There was nothing surprising about strong ideological clashes between genders—these tensions had existed since the dawn of civilization.

And truthfully, after her long relationship with Xiao Yue and Tang Ziyi, and her experiences since arriving in this world, Ling Qingyu already had her stance.

"Don't you know curiosity kills the cat?" Xiao Yue rolled her eyes, clearly catching on to where the conversation was heading.

Ling Qingyu smirked, unfazed. "I'm a lion, not a cat."

"You're still a big cat, technically. And besides," Xiao Yue added with a smirk of her own, "you're a lioness in a harem. Not the lion."

Ling Qingyu's hairs stood on end in mock outrage. Xiao Yue's words hit the nail on the head.

If not for her "cheats," Ling Qingyu would probably still be struggling like some dog-licking male stallion protagonist. She never expected Xiao Yue to turn wicked too. Clearly, it had been a huge mistake not to keep an eye on the elegant ancient lady after she partnered up with the manly woman.

Ling Qingyu snorted, expressing her dissatisfaction. Even though she was still busy trying to win Yang Qingyue's approval to graduate, her goal of building a harem of women never wavered.

Life needed entertainment alongside ambition—otherwise, it'd be unbearably dull.

"You're asking for a beating," Ling Qingyu said flatly.

Xiao Yue covered her lips and snickered, then held her stomach as she locked eyes with her. "What? Resorting to violence just because you can't win an argument? Weak. The truly strong push their limits, not bully their opponents."

Ling Qingyu cursed her logic inwardly. Sister, seriously? Where's that righteous courage you used to have, always beating me whenever you got the chance and a flimsy excuse?

But times had changed, and now that the tide had turned, Ling Qingyu won every physical fight. She no longer feared Xiao Yue—except for her mouth.

"I'm wealthier," she declared.

"I have Sister Ziyi," Xiao Yue replied smugly.

"I've got Sister Yang's connections and mine. That overshadows yours."

"What's yours is mine. Beat Sister Ziyi if you want to talk independence."

Ling Qingyu's eyelids twitched. Her lips followed, trembling with suppressed frustration. She took a long, deep breath. "…Shortie Yue, admit it—"

"You can't beat Sister Ziyi," Xiao Yue interrupted with a calm smile, like she was reciting the law of gravity.

"Hey! Weren't you the one always shouting 'Final fist decides the winner!' when you had the upper hand?"

"You. Can't. Beat. Sister Ziyi," Xiao Yue repeated, one finger raised per word like she was teaching a toddler to count.

"I'm the strongest."

"You can't beat Sister Ziyi."

"I have money. So much money."

"Sister Ziyi trained people who can make that money disappear with one line of code."

"I have connections."

"Connections who need Sister Ziyi's security clearance before they dare say hi."

"I'm the core of the group!"

"Sister Ziyi is the motherboard, CPU, and power supply. You're the RGB lights."

"I have influence! People listen to me!"

Xiao Yue tilted her head. "Because Ziyi keeps you alive long enough for them to hear you."

"I—! Hmph! I'm prettier than her."

"Beauty is in the eyes of beholder. Besides, she once broke three ribs of a merc with the corner of a clipboard. Pretty is just bonus damage."

Ling Qingyu stomped. "Fine! But without me, there's no company. No Athena. No global plan."

Xiao Yue smirked. "Without Sister Ziyi, there's no Spirit Fox. No cyber defense. No novice protection period. No ops team. No land to stand on. No… you."

"…Can you let me win one argument?"

Xiao Yue shrugged dramatically. "Beat Sister Ziyi first."

Ling Qingyu pointed a trembling finger at her. "I will someday!"

"I'll light incense at your memorial," Xiao Yue said with a bow. "Heroic but hopeless."

"Shortie Yue, I swear—!"

Xiao Yue spun on her heel, hands behind her back. "You swore that last time, too. Right before Sister Ziyi caught your punch mid-air and tapped your forehead like a naughty child."

"That was a lucky counter!"

"She did it twice."

"WHY do you remember these things?!"

"Because history is important. Especially the rarity of a youthful aura, challenging the known results."

Ling Qingyu could feel the vein on her temple throb harder. "Wo—"

"Woman, you have my attention?" Xiao Yue leaned in, wiggling her brows with a mischievous grin.

"You're testing my patience—"

"But you need patience to grow stronger!" Xiao Yue interjected, throwing her hands up like a motivational coach. "Anyway, I have Sister Ziyi as a strong backer. Come on, Qingyu, it's not a big deal to train harder. Try lifting something heavier than your pride for once."

Ling Qingyu's jaw clenched. Her knuckles cracked on instinct.

At the front of the vehicle, the two Spirit Fox operators who were acting as driver and co-driver suddenly developed an intense fascination with the dashboard. One adjusted the mirror five times without purpose; the other turned the wiper on during a clear sky.

Both knew better than to laugh. One wrong chuckle, and they'd be running laps in full gear, blindfolded, while getting interrogated about 'loyalty.'

Everyone in Spirit Fox knew: messing with a superior officer was suicide. But interfering in the "domestic banter" between these two? That was sacrilege.

Even the greenest recruit learned fast—this wasn't a skirmish; it was a family affair. Ancient laws applied. Observe, do not engage. Pray you weren't asked to pick a side.

Ling Qingyu slowly turned toward Xiao Yue, her voice soft—too soft. "So what you're saying is, I'm weak, useless, dependent, and stubborn?"

Xiao Yue smiled sweetly. "Exactly. But with potential and graduated recently with flying color!"

"…You're dead."

"You'll have to get past Sister Ziyi first."

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