Misbehavior

Before the system erased me, I ordered five male models.
If I was going to die, I was going to die with dignity.
Then the man I’d been chasing my whole life burst into the hotel room with a dozen of his squad members.
“Vice raid! You’re all under arrest!” he barked, his eyes burning into mine.
“The woman stays. For a… private… interrogation.”
And in the chaos, I heard his voice echo in my mind, a voice no one else could hear:
【My wife is misbehaving. She needs to be punished.】

1
My system is called “Touch Julian or Die.”
Basically, how long I live is directly proportional to how much I can touch him.
A simple touch: +1 day.
Holding hands: +5 days.
A hug: +10 days.
A kiss: +30 days.
And, well, you know… +50 days.
Insane, right?
There’s no cure. It’s just that insane.
Luckily, there’s a real condition called “skin hunger” that’s been the perfect cover story for my little systemic curse. I can ignore the judgmental stares from other people, but the one thing I can’t fix is the fact that Julian King doesn’t like me.
When we were kids, it was easy. Hugs, kisses, being carried around—it was all perfectly normal.
But the moment puberty hit, Julian started avoiding me. No touching, no getting close. He even got a girlfriend just to keep me at bay.
The system was already forcing me to live without boundaries; I couldn’t bring myself to be immoral, too.
So, without my daily dose of Julian, my life’s clock began its final countdown. And today, August 15th, on my twenty-second birthday, it’s about to hit zero.
“Time remaining: five hours, seven minutes, and thirty-nine seconds.”
It’s 6:53 PM. That means when the clock strikes midnight, my heart will just… stop.
My body will be discovered the next day.
Cause of death: sudden cardiac arrest.
The system’s planned exit for me was so… boring.
So, for my grand finale, I booked the presidential suite and ordered five male models.
“SHOCKER: Popular Food Blogger Dies Suddenly in Hotel After Wild Night with Multiple Male Models!”
Now that has a ring to it.
If you’re going to go, go out with a bang.
“System,” I whispered, “please let me die painlessly at the peak of my happiness. Thank you.”
The system remained silent.

2
Let me tell you, pretty-boy models are worth every penny.
Six-packs, broad shoulders, long legs—the works. They surrounded me, pouring drinks, dancing, and calling me “beautiful” until my head was spinning with delight.
Any one of them was better than Julian, who only ever called me “Ivy” in that cold, flat tone, telling me not to waste my time on him.
“You’re drifting off, beautiful. Am I not keeping you entertained?”
The handsomest of the five leaned in close, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind and pulling me into his solid chest. Over the thumping bass of the music, he whispered right next to my ear, his voice laced with a smile.
“Why don’t you send the others away? Let it be just me and you, huh?”
I melted back into his embrace and smirked.
“Why do you think I ordered five, sweetheart? I have a big appetite.”
“What if I can handle it?” he chuckled, his voice a low rumble against my back. “I think I’ve got what it takes to earn all five paychecks myself. What do you say, beautiful? Give me a shot?”
Thank God for the alcohol, or my blush would have been a dead giveaway. I was a complete novice at this. The only person I’d ever chased was Julian, and the furthest I’d ever gotten was stealing a quick peck on the cheek. This was the boldest thing I’d ever done.
And of course, I run into a guy this hot and this smooth.
Honey, if I wasn’t scheduled to kick the bucket tomorrow, I’d take you home and keep you forever.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Someone was pounding on the door, the sound barely audible over the music.
I froze. Did we get a noise complaint?
I tried to move, but the arms around my waist didn't budge. I patted his hand. “Let go. It’s probably the neighbors.”
“Nope,” he murmured, resting his chin on my shoulder and nuzzling against my neck. “What if they’re mean? I have to protect you.”
Wow. This kid must really need the money.

3
The pounding grew more frantic. Not wanting to cause a scene, I let him hold onto me as I stumbled toward the door.
I opened it just a crack, peering out to see what the fuss was about.
My eyes met a familiar face, and my blood ran cold.
Julian?
Oh, hell no.
My body went rigid. My first instinct was to slam the door and pretend nothing ever happened, but Julian was faster. He wedged his foot in the opening, blocking my escape.
He lifted his head, his dark eyes locking onto mine. He looked like he was interrogating a criminal.
“What… what do you want?” I stammered.
Julian’s eyes narrowed, his gaze dropping to the arm wrapped around my waist. His expression darkened instantly.
“Well, Ivy. Looks like you’re having a real party.”
My face burned with embarrassment. But then I remembered I was about to die anyway. What did it matter? I lifted my chin defiantly.
“What’s it to you? I told you, if you don’t want me, there are plenty of guys who do. I’ve got four more in here, you know!”
“Good. That’s just great.”
A slow, chilling smile spread across Julian’s face. It was a handsome smile, but the storm brewing in his dark eyes terrified me.
Then, he lifted his left hand and crooked a finger.
“Vice raid! Nobody move!”
Oh, right. I forgot to mention. Julian’s day job?
He’s the captain of the city’s vice squad.

4
“Take all the men into custody!”
The words were clipped, laced with a fury that was barely contained.
Before I could react, a dozen officers swarmed past him, slamming the door wide open and storming into the room.
“Hands on your head! Get on the ground, now!”
The four other models, all shirtless and in the middle of a beer-fueled dance party, froze in shock. They dropped their bottles and scrambled to the floor, hands clasped behind their heads.
Julian’s gaze shifted to the man still holding me, his voice dropping another ten degrees. “You too.”
“Hey, what’s the big idea, officer?” the model—my model—said, tightening his grip on me. He didn’t let go. “I finally get the girl of my dreams, and I invite my buddies over to celebrate. Is that a crime?”
He actually had the nerve to sound indignant. “In fact, you guys are the ones barging into our private room without a warrant. I think I have grounds for a complaint here.”
I sucked in a sharp breath. Was this kid drunk? What was he saying?
Julian’s face grew even darker. He stared at me, his eyes burning with an intensity I knew all too well. This was him at his absolute limit.
“Ivy,” he said again, his voice dangerously low.
I opened my mouth to speak, but the arm around my waist squeezed tighter. My model leaned in, pretending to nuzzle me, and whispered against my ear.
“Play along unless you want to spend the night in a holding cell.”
“Uh, right!” I blurted out, catching on. “We just… we just got together! We’re celebrating! Is that illegal?”

5
To my surprise, Julian let out a dark, wicked laugh.
He pulled his phone from his pocket, unlocked it, and shoved it in my face.
“This is your idea of a celebration?”
On the screen was the social media post I’d made a few hours earlier.
The caption read: “Who knows the joy of spending money! I'm gonna die in the arms of male models tonight!”
The picture was of me, surrounded by the five models, laughing hysterically.
My stomach dropped.
But that’s impossible. I’d set that post to private, only visible to a specific friend group. Who would have screenshotted it and sent it to Julian?
“And for the record,” Julian sneered at my model, “we received an official complaint from the hotel. So go ahead and file your complaint. Be my guest.”
He took a step forward, yanked me out of the model’s arms, and surveyed the chaotic, party-strewn room. Up close, I could feel the rage radiating off him.
“Get dressed. You’re all coming with me.”
The models grumbled as they put on their shirts, shooting me resentful looks. I stared mournfully at their disappearing abs.
My model was the last one to get dressed. As I tried to sneak one last, longing glance, a hand covered my eyes.
Ding! Life value +10 days.
A warm, solid chest pressed against my back. Julian’s unique scent filled my senses, and for a moment, all I could hear was the frantic thumping of my own heart.
“Sir, we have everyone. That just leaves…” an officer started to say, his voice trailing off.
Leaves what?
Me?
“The woman stays with me,” Julian’s voice was a low growl, each word deliberate. “For a… private… interrogation.”
He said it with such venom, you’d think he wanted to tear me apart. If I didn’t know for a fact that he despised me, I might have even thought he was jealous.

6
I thought he was taking me to the station.
He didn't.
Julian sent his team ahead with the five models to start the paperwork. Once we were alone, he released his grip on me and kicked the hotel room door shut with a loud SLAM that made me flinch.
I shrank back. “Aren’t… aren’t we leaving?”
He shot me a glare, saying nothing as he shrugged off his uniform jacket and tugged at the collar of his shirt. In the dim hotel lighting, I could see the fury simmering in his dark eyes.
He stalked toward me, backing me up against the wall until I had nowhere to go. He planted his hands on either side of my head, trapping me.
“Ivy,” he began, his voice a low growl. “Wasn’t it you who said you loved me so much you couldn’t live without me? That I was the only one for you, forever?”
“Is this what you call love?”
For some reason, I heard a flicker of… hurt in his voice.
But what right did he have to be hurt? I was the one who should be upset! Do you have any idea how much this room cost? How much the appearance fee for five models is? I was on the verge of death! Couldn’t I have a little fun before I went?
“Ivy! Answer me!” he roared.
His shout unleashed all the pent-up frustration and grief inside me. Tears welled in my eyes.
“Yes! This is my love! What’s wrong with it? Fine, I’ll stop chasing you, is that what you want?!”
“You think I’m annoying, right? Shameless? Well, I won’t bother you anymore, okay?”
“You want to arrest me? Interrogate me? Go ahead! There’s nothing to interrogate. I’ll tell you right now, yes, I hired all five of them. Because tonight, Ivy Jones was going to—”
A hand suddenly cupped the back of my head, and a pair of warm lips crashed down on mine, silencing my tirade.
My eyes flew open in shock. A mechanical voice echoed in my head:
Ding! Life value +30 days.
In the next moment, Julian pushed me onto the sofa, pinning me with one hand while the other started unbuttoning his shirt.
And then, clear as day, I heard his voice in my mind:
【My wife is misbehaving. She needs to be punished.】
【She needs a little reminder.】

7
I was stunned. I blinked, completely bewildered.
Julian was kissing me, so where was that voice coming from?
“Ouch.”
A sharp pain on my lip made me wince. I tried to push him away, but he caught my hands, guiding them down his chest, past the now-unbuttoned shirt—
My heart leaped into my throat.
My palm came to rest on his hard, chiseled abdomen.
My eyes widened. My brain short-circuited.
And then I heard it again, that clear, internal voice:
【Fine. Liking to touch me is still a form of liking me. I’ll take it. I won’t hold it against her.】
【If I keep being so stubborn, I’m going to lose her for good.】
【These abs I’ve been working on for two years have to be good, right? Better than those pretty boys’, at least. She’ll like them, won’t she?】
Just as suddenly, Julian pulled back. His expression was still cold, but his lips parted.
“You like abs, don’t you? Touch them all you want.”
Honestly, under normal circumstances, that comment would have infuriated me. What did he take me for? Did he think I’d just touch anyone?
But the voices I’d just heard left me no room for anger.
What was that? Was I hearing… Julian’s thoughts?
“Ju-Julian, why did you… why did you ki—”
My head was buzzing. I just wanted to understand what was happening. But a sharp knock on the door cut me off.
A hushed voice came from the other side.
“Captain King… call from upstairs. They’re saying it was a misunderstanding. We have to let them go.”
The color drained from Julian’s face. He looked down at me, his eyes dark and deep.
“Well, well, Ivy. Looks like one of your little boy toys has some serious connections.”
Boy toys? They were professional models, thank you very much!

8
Julian let go of me. He stood there silently, his expression grim, and slowly began re-buttoning his shirt with his long, elegant fingers.
I sat on the sofa in a daze, his anxious inner monologue still rattling in my head:
【He’s not some rich heir, is he?】
【If he is, my job doesn’t look so impressive anymore, does it?】
What was he even thinking about?
I ran a hand through my hair, wishing I could ask my system what was going on. But my system was purely functional. It tracked my life value and nothing else. No chat feature. It was usually just me talking at it out of boredom.
Julian opened the door. Leaning against the opposite wall, arms crossed, was the model from before—the handsome one. He raised an eyebrow at Julian.
“Take care, officer~”
Almost instantly, Julian’s head snapped back toward me.
“Ivy. You’re coming back to the station with me.”
Before I could even react, the model chuckled.
“Didn’t they just confirm it was a misunderstanding? What’s this, officer? Abuse of power? On what grounds?”
He took a step forward, standing toe-to-toe with Julian. At six-foot-one, Julian was tall, but this kid was easily his match. They faced off, the animosity between them palpable.
The air grew thick with tension. After a few silent, charged seconds, Julian suddenly smirked. A few strands of dark hair fell across his forehead as he cocked his head in a challenge.
“On the grounds that she doesn't want her parents to find out about this.”
“I’m taking her with me. You got a problem with that?”
At the same time, his inner voice screamed:
【Die, pretty boy! My wife and I have history. Who the hell are you?】

9
When it came to my parents, Julian had me cornered.
My family situation was… complicated. My mother passed away when I was young. The woman in my house now is my stepmother, who has her own son. Our relationship is best described as a fragile, unspoken truce.
My father, thanks to a leg up from my maternal grandfather, had become a powerful politician. His life revolved around networking and appearances. His entire world was built on reputation. He showed his affection for me primarily through a generous allowance, but his expectations were rigid: I could live my life, as long as I never, ever embarrassed him.
My decision to become a food blogger instead of taking a cushy government job after graduation had sent him into a rage. Just yesterday, he’d finally kicked me out of the house.
His parting words were, “Let’s just see how far you get without this family’s name and money.”
The problem was, I was a fresh graduate. I hadn’t made any real money yet. The suite and the five models had cost me every penny I had to my name.
What was meant to be a final, glorious celebration had just become the prelude to my life on the streets.
If my father found out I’d hired five male models… I wouldn’t need the system to kill me. He’d do it himself.
So, faced with Julian’s “dad” card, I had no choice but to surrender.
“Let’s go.”

10
I never would have guessed the model—the kid—drove a heavy-duty motorcycle. How could someone who supposedly needed money so badly afford such an expensive bike?
“Come on, beautiful. I’ll give you a ride to the station.”
The kid, now dressed in a cool black utility jacket, handed me a helmet with a sweet, boyish grin. “Consider it part of the service you paid for.”
Ugh, if I could, I’d ask for a partial refund.
Julian was in the hotel lobby, speaking with the manager. He glanced over at us, and his face immediately hardened. He strode toward me.
“Ivy, wait for me in the car.”
“No need to trouble you, officer,” the kid said, snapping his helmet on and giving Julian a jaun. “I’ll deliver her personally.”
With that, he wrapped his arms around my waist, lifted me onto the back of the bike, and swung his leg over. The engine roared to life, and before I could even process what was happening, we shot forward like a bullet.
I screamed, instinctively wrapping my arms tightly around his waist.
The wind whipped past my ears. I could smell the faint, familiar scent of tobacco on his jacket.
His voice was muffled by the helmet, but I heard him shout against the wind.
“My name’s Leo, by the way!”
“Remember it!”

11
At the station.
Julian, who had arrived shortly after me, was still radiating icy fury as he dragged me inside.
Leo, clever as he was, had managed to get my number and add me on social media just before Julian’s car pulled up, then sped off into the night.
Leaving me to face the music, feeling utterly miserable.
The officer at the front desk saw us and gave me a once-over, clearly assuming I was some kind of streetwalker Julian had arrested.
He tutted. “Such a pretty girl. Why throw your life away like this? Young women these days, think they can use their looks to make a quick buck. You’ll regret it one day.”
I was about to argue, but Julian beat me to it, tapping the officer on the head. “Watch your mouth.”
“She’s with me.”
He said it so casually, but my heart skipped a beat. My mind flashed back to the kiss in the hotel room.
Right. I still hadn't asked him about that.
“Oh, with you~~”
The officer’s expression immediately shifted to one of pure gossip. He opened his mouth to ask me something, but Julian grabbed the hood of my sweatshirt and pulled me toward his desk.
“I’m going to change. Wait here.”
“Why did you even bring me here? I didn’t do anything illegal.”
Just get it over with, whatever it is. My hotel room was paid for until noon tomorrow. I wanted to go back and get some sleep.
“Who says you didn’t?” Julian snorted, a strange look on his face. “We’ll settle this at home.”
Huh?
At home?
Before I could ask, he disappeared into a back room.
The gossipy officer immediately sidled up to me. “So, miss, you and Captain King… how far have you two gone, hehe?”

12
To the kissing stage.
But without a title, without any explanation. In fact, it was textbook bad-boy behavior. If it weren’t for those inner thoughts that had piqued my curiosity, I’d probably want to punch him.
I quickly shook my head. “No, no, it’s not like that. We’re just childhood friends. I’m not his girlfriend…”
Then a thought struck me.
“He’s been with his girlfriend for two or three years now, right? Hasn’t he introduced you guys?”
I asked it casually, but my question seemed to hit the pause button on the entire office.
Everyone stared at me.
Then, a younger officer waved his hand dismissively, a “what are you talking about” look on his face.
“You’ve got to be kidding!” he laughed. “Captain King is the most eligible bachelor in this entire precinct.”
“I went to the police academy with him and we’ve worked together ever since. I have never once seen him with a girlfriend.”
“Two or three years? Where did you hear that?”
I was dumbfounded.
Was I crazy, or were they?
How could Julian not have a girlfriend?

13
Before I could press further, Julian emerged, changed into civilian clothes.
Damn him. He was the one who had captivated me all those years ago for a reason. Even in a simple gray hoodie and sweatpants, he looked effortlessly handsome.
He said his goodbyes to his colleagues, a slight, roguish smile playing on his lips. Then he walked over to me and jerked his chin toward the door. “Let’s go. Home.”
I blinked. “Whose home?”
“Mine.” Seeing my bewildered expression, he explained, “My housekeeper is on leave visiting her grandkids. I need a new one.”
He looked me up and down.
“Besides, do you have anywhere else to go?”
I rolled my eyes. “Excuse me, I’m a food blogger, not a housekeeper.”
Julian smirked. “Right. A food blogger with nowhere to go but a hotel room.”
Hmph!
Ivy Jones would rather starve on the streets, freeze to death outside, than…
Julian added quietly, “If you don’t come, I’ll just screenshot that social media post of you and your five models and send it to your father.”
At the mention of my dad, all my fight drained away. I slumped my shoulders and trudged after him.
Suddenly, I heard a faint 【Yes!】 in my head.
I snapped my head up, staring at Julian’s back, and then I heard it again:
【Finally got my wife home.】
【Her dad is still useful for something.】
【Although, thinking about her dad… ugh, this is going to be a long road. I have to win over both the wife and the father-in-law.】
If I couldn’t tell something was seriously up by now, I’d have to be an idiot.

14
Julian’s family hadn’t been well-off when we were kids. His parents were low-level civil servants who lived in the apartment below mine, a perk of their government jobs. My father, a notorious snob, never gave them the time of day, always maintaining an air of superiority.
So, it wasn't just me who was scared of my dad; Julian was too. I was used to it.
But because my mom was gone, my dad favored my stepbrother, and my stepmom specialized in passive-aggressive remarks, I always felt like an outsider in my own home. I spent most of my time at Julian’s, eating his mom’s cooking and, because I was younger, shamelessly begging for hugs and piggyback rides.
Most of my life value was accumulated during those years. We were the epitome of childhood sweethearts.
Until I turned eighteen. That year, two major things happened.
First, Julian’s parents quit their jobs and went into business for themselves. They moved away.
Second, just before he transferred schools, Julian suddenly got a girlfriend: the most popular girl in school, Cici Chen.
We didn’t lose touch completely. I’d occasionally see updates from his mom on social media. But we grew distant. I knew from his mom that his dad’s business was booming, and their financial situation had changed dramatically in just a few years.
Julian later got into the police academy, which meant four years of a completely regimented, cloistered life. After graduating, his talent and a bit of family influence helped him climb the ranks quickly. He made captain in just a year and a half.
But he never posted anything online, so I had no idea what happened between him and Cici. Julian was a serious, steady guy; he wouldn't break up with someone lightly. I just assumed they were still together.
But now… his colleagues were saying he didn’t have a girlfriend?

15
“Julian, back at the hotel… why did you kiss me?”
I’m not one to bottle things up. If I have a question, I ask it.
He was driving, and he didn’t even glance at me. His expression was impossibly calm.
But then, I heard the chaos in his mind:
【Because I'm in love with you, you idiot!】
【I waited all this time for you to graduate, and the first thing you do is go find a bunch of escorts?】
【And you said all those things just to piss me off!】
My heart hammered against my ribs. I clutched my phone, my breathing shallow.
Did I hear that right? Julian… loves me?
This jerk actually loves me?!
He was the one who started pushing me away when he was fifteen, always telling me to stay away, not to touch him. Sometimes he’d get so angry he’d snap, “Ivy, have you no shame?” and storm off. I confessed to him when I was sixteen and chased him for two years, and all he did was reject me with a weary look, telling me to think about whether I really liked him.
And what was the result of all my thinking? He got a girlfriend! That wasn’t him telling me to think; that was him telling me he wasn't interested.
After his family moved, we went to different universities. I understood the police academy was strict, but there were holidays, right? Times he could use his phone? He never once—not once—contacted me.
And he calls that love?
“You have deviated from the route. Rerouting…”
Julian irritably swiped the navigation app away, tossed his phone onto the passenger seat, and said, staring straight ahead, “You talk too much, Ivy.”
If it weren’t for the way his hands tightened on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white from the force, I might have actually believed him.
Sure, I talk too much. Or maybe you just can’t come up with a good lie.

First, search for and download the MotoNovel app from Google. Then, open the app and use the code "251531" to read the entire book.