Category: Can We Get Married First? 

Chapter 40

Wei Zhuoning, taking advantage of her corner seat, placed her phone on her desk.

The school forum was buzzing again, thanks to Lou Mi’s visit.

Title: [HighTowerMiyuki at South Lake Third High School?!]

Poster: Zhang Chang, Class 9, Grade 11

[Picture 1 of HighTowerMiyuki]

[Picture 2 of HighTowerMiyuki]

“More pictures and videos coming soon. Stay tuned.”

“I’m from No. 16 High. Can someone please explain why HighTowerMiyuki is at South Lake Third High? What is she doing there?”

After a dozen replies of “OMG, Lou-jie is so beautiful! I’m dead!”, someone finally answered:

“She came to deliver lunch to her sister.”

“Delivering lunch… Lou-jie is such a wifey material! Marry me, Lou-jie!”

“Wait, since when does HighTowerMiyuki have a sister? I’ve never heard of this.”

“You’re clearly not a true fan. She doesn’t have a biological sister, but her dad has a new girlfriend, and the girlfriend has a daughter. They live together.”

“So it’s a stepsister?”

“They’re not married yet, so not technically a stepsister.”

The discussion about Lou Mi continued for thirty pages, then a new user, with the familiar excessive use of exclamation points, joined the fray.

Liu Huixin, having arrived late, had witnessed the commotion caused by Lou Mi’s appearance, almost crushed by the throng of junior high students.

She had a feeling something big was happening, overhearing whispers about HighTowerMiyuki.

Why would HighTowerMiyuki be at South Lake Third High?

Reaching Class 6, she realized it was the epicenter of the excitement, her anxiety growing.

Could it be…

Her worst fear had come true. HighTowerMiyuki was here for Chi Lin.

Was HighTowerMiyuki the mysterious “sworn sister”?

Liu Huixin had suspected the “sworn sister” might be someone important, but…

HighTowerMiyuki?

Wasn’t that a bit… excessive?

Liu Huixin’s carefully crafted rumors, her weeks of effort, had been undone by Lou Mi’s single appearance.

She opened the forum, everyone praising Chi Lin, the few dissenting voices quickly drowned out.

She felt sick to her stomach.

She immediately created a new account and joined the battle.

One Smelly Pond: “So what if she’s HighTowerMiyuki? Who knows what their relationship really is? Just because they live together doesn’t make them sisters.”

Teng Jiang, Class 1: “Who are you, jealous much? Do they need your permission to be sisters?”

Liu Huixin was surprised to see Teng Jiang defending Chi Lin.

She didn’t care about Teng Jiang anymore. She only cared about Chi Lin!

One Smelly Pond: “So being a kept woman is something to be proud of now? And all these fake fans defending her… pathetic.”

Before Teng Jiang could reply, dozens of users attacked her.

“Who’s the idiot now? Weren’t you the one calling HighTowerMiyuki an ‘old hag’? Donate your eyes to science.”

“Another new account. How cowardly.”

“So many people would kill to be kept by HighTowerMiyuki. Myself included.”

“Keep dreaming. Do you have any idea how rich and famous she is? Do you think you’re as pretty as Chi Lin?”

“Bye, Felicia.”

Liu Huixin fumed, her attempts at slander backfiring spectacularly.

Even her former allies, united in their dislike for Chi Lin, had switched sides after seeing Lou Mi.

As her anger escalated, a hand tapped on her desk.

She looked up and saw Ms. Qi’s stern face.

“Liu Huixin, come to my office,” Ms. Qi said coldly.

Liu Huixin’s heart pounded.

“What is it?” she asked, her voice trembling.

“You’ll see,” Ms. Qi replied.

It was the last class of the morning, before the two-hour lunch break. Ms. Qi always emphasized the importance of every minute, especially with the college entrance exam approaching. All their PE classes had been replaced with extra study sessions. And now, she was pulling Liu Huixin out of class right before the last period.

Liu Huixin felt a sense of dread.

In the office, Ms. Qi closed the door, and Liu Huixin saw the grade level director and the Dean of Students.

The three most feared figures in the tenth grade.

Being summoned by all three was an unprecedented honor, and Liu Huixin was the first recipient.

The grade level director and the Dean glared at her, their expressions grim.

Liu Huixin’s palms began to sweat.

“Sit down,” Ms. Qi said, pointing at a chair.

Liu Huixin sat down, her legs trembling.

Ms. Qi sat across from her. “You’re receiving financial aid this semester, correct?”

Liu Huixin nodded.

“How is your family’s financial situation?”

Liu Huixin explained, but they didn’t seem interested, as if they were just going through the motions.

When she finished, Ms. Qi said, “With your family’s financial difficulties, you should be focusing on your studies, not creating conflict with your classmates.”

Liu Huixin’s blood ran cold.

She tried to appear calm, but her voice betrayed her.

“I didn’t do anything!”

“You didn’t? Didn’t you write those forum posts?”

“Chi Lin is lying! I didn’t do it!”

The Dean chuckled. “We didn’t even mention any names, and you’re already confessing. Interesting.”

“I’m not confessing! I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

The grade level director, without a word, projected a video onto the wall.

“Is this you?”

The video showed Liu Huixin returning to the empty classroom during the exercise break and placing something in Chi Lin’s backpack.

The security camera, positioned perfectly, had captured her actions clearly.

Modern security cameras, equipped with facial recognition technology, could identify students instantly.

Liu Huixin’s name and photo appeared on the screen, following her every move.

“Other students witnessed you placing a fake snake in Chi Lin’s backpack,” Ms. Qi said. “You were targeting Chi Lin, weren’t you?”

The “other student” was Wei Zhuoning, who had seen Liu Huixin entering the classroom.

And the fake snake incident had been witnessed by half the class.

Liu Huixin remained silent, her fingers twisting nervously.

“And those forum posts…” Ms. Qi projected several threads onto the wall.

“Instead of studying, you’re wasting your time on this nonsense! No wonder your grades are plummeting!”

Liu Huixin, her voice weaker now, said, “Those posts were anonymous. You can’t prove it was me.”

“Anonymous? Do you think anonymity actually exists online?” the Dean said, amused by her naiveté. “It might be anonymous on the front end, but the back end records everything. We can easily access your registration information. You’re using your mother’s ID, aren’t you? See?”

He tossed a stack of printed documents onto the table, displaying her mother’s ID information.

“Two hundred and twelve accounts, all registered to you. Staying up all night arguing online. If you put that much effort into your studies, you could get into any university! How can you do this to your parents? We have records of everything you posted. Anything else to say?”

Liu Huixin sat frozen, speechless.

“We’ll call your mother and discuss this with her,” Ms. Qi said.

“No!” Liu Huixin exclaimed, jumping out of her seat. “She’ll kill me if she finds out!”

Ms. Qi looked at her, her expression a mixture of pity and annoyance.

“Now you’re scared? It’s too late. Spreading rumors online is a crime. You have to face the consequences of your actions. This is serious. We need to involve your parents. School discipline is secondary. Family education is crucial. Go back to class. We’ll contact your parents.”

Liu Huixin, her face pale, returned to the classroom, her mind reeling.

…

As Chi Lin, Wei Zhuoning, and Lin Xiaozhi were leaving for lunch, they saw Liu Huixin emerging from the office.

Expecting a confrontation, they were surprised when Liu Huixin, her face ashen, walked past them without a word, her gaze averted.

“Is she okay?” Wei Zhuoning asked. “She looks like she’s seen a ghost.”

“Probably got scolded by Ms. Qi,” Lin Xiaozhi replied.

Wei Zhuoning chuckled. “Serves her right. Spreading rumors online. She should be expelled.”

Lin Xiaozhi’s face darkened. “Did you just swear?”

“Did I? I don’t think so…”

Chi Lin, trapped between them, wanted to escape.

“I have something to do. See you later,” she said, trying to slip away.

Lin Xiaozhi grabbed her arm. “Wait, you brought your lunch. Let’s eat together.”

“Wouldn’t you two rather be alone?” Chi Lin asked.

Wei Zhuoning, surprised by her words, said quickly, “I don’t want to be alone with her!”

Lin Xiaozhi smiled. “See? She wants to be with you. She only eats when you’re around.”

Wei Zhuoning: “You’re full of shit! You just want to have both of us, you two-timing bitch!”

Chi Lin had become a pawn in their little game.

In the end, they both insisted she join them for lunch.

Chi Lin, her arms linked with theirs, felt like she was being kidnapped.

Thankfully, Lou Mi arrived just in time.

“So energetic before lunch?” she asked, smiling from her car window.

Wei Zhuoning, seeing HighTowerMiyuki up close again, gasped, her eyes wide with admiration.

Chi Lin, relieved, quickly detached herself from Wei Zhuoning and Lin Xiaozhi.

“I’m having lunch with my sister. Sorry, maybe next time,” she said, before anyone could react, and quickly got into Lou Mi’s car.

Lou Mi, having watched their awkward three-way shuffle from afar, was amused.

She smiled at the two girls outside the car.

“You’re my sister’s friends, right? I’m Lou Mi. What are your names?”

Wei Zhuoning, surprised by Lou Mi’s friendly demeanor, stammered, “I’m… Wei Zhuoning. And this is Lin Xiaozhi.”

“Come over to our house sometime,” Lou Mi said.

“Okay!” Wei Zhuoning exclaimed.

Lin Xiaozhi, arms crossed, scowled at Wei Zhuoning’s starstruck reaction.

Chi Lin waved. “See you later.”

Wei Zhuoning, still staring at Lou Mi, said dreamily, “See you later…”

Lin Xiaozhi: “…”

As Lin Xiaozhi dragged Wei Zhuoning away, Lou Mi asked Chi Lin, “Where do you want to eat?”

Chi Lin held up her lunchbox. “I brought my lunch.”

“We still need a place to eat. And I want to talk to you.”

“I’ll eat wherever you’re eating,” Chi Lin said.

“Okay, I’ll choose somewhere… quiet.”

Lou Mi took her to a Chinese restaurant in a hotel, usually empty at this time of day.

Lou Mi, with her athlete’s appetite, ordered a whole roasted goose, braised pork belly with abalone, fish maw and chicken soup, and dry-fried beef hor fun.

“You can choose the dessert,” she said. “You have a sweet tooth, right?”

Chi Lin didn’t actually like sweets, or most meats, but the original owner did, and Lou Mi seemed convinced. She couldn’t change her established preferences.

She opened the menu, the dessert names mostly unfamiliar, and randomly selected “East Wind Last Night,” intrigued by its poetic name.

“I’ll have the same,” Lou Mi said.

“Are you sure? I just chose it randomly.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

Chi Lin was always wary of ordering food in this era, the cryptic dish names often concealing unexpected ingredients.

In her early days, exploring the city alone, she had once ordered a “Pig Intestines Ice Cream,” curious about its strange name.

She had taken a bite and recoiled in horror, seeing what looked like… worms embedded in the ice cream.

The server had explained it was a type of instant noodle…

And “Pig Intestines” referred to the noodles.

Dayuan had its own version of ice cream, usually served with fruit, a refreshing summer treat.

But frozen noodles? Chi Lin shuddered at the thought.

Since then, she had avoided all modern desserts and cold drinks.

Lou Mi submitted their order.

While they waited, she asked Chi Lin to open her lunchbox.

Chi Lin carefully unwrapped the lunchbox, surprised by its contents.

The char siu, chicken wings, and colorful vegetables had been arranged to resemble Nori the Demon Child, even the little fangs meticulously crafted.

Peng Ziyuan had put a lot of effort into it.

“Wow,” Lou Mi said, impressed. “It’s a work of art.”

Chi Lin, not usually interested in meat, felt compelled to eat this lovingly prepared lunch.

Lou Mi asked the server to heat it up.

Chi Lin took a bite of the char siu. It was perfectly cooked, the fatty and lean parts balanced, the meat juicy and tender. Even Chi Lin, not a meat lover, couldn’t fault it.

“Is it good?” Lou Mi asked.

“Delicious. Try it,” Chi Lin said, offering her some with her chopsticks.

“No, thanks. Your mom made it for you.”

“It’s mine, so I can share it. Here.”

Chi Lin placed some char siu and chicken wings on Lou Mi’s plate.

She knew Lou Mi’s mother had passed away eight years ago, when Lou Mi was only seventeen. She wondered if Lou Mi had ever eaten a lovingly prepared lunchbox from her own mother.

“If you insist,” Lou Mi said, and ate the meat, surprised by its deliciousness.

“I wish Auntie Peng would cook every day,” she said. “We could retire XH. Oh, and your homeroom teacher and the Dean contacted me. They solved the case in two hours. A little pressure, and they suddenly become efficient. The culprit is your classmate, Liu Huixin. Did you know?”

Chi Lin, not surprised, nodded slowly.

“Your former deskmate.”

“Why does she hate you so much? Over two hundred fake accounts, just to spread rumors about you.”

Chi Lin realized Liu Huixin’s animosity had started after Chi Lin’s transformation.

“I must have offended her,” she said.

Lou Mi nodded, understanding.

Chi Lin had only told half the truth.

Liu Huixin had expected Chi Lin to remain her inferior, her foil.

Chi Lin’s improvement, her newfound popularity, threatened Liu Huixin’s sense of self-worth.

Lou Mi, wanting to comfort her, said, “Whenever you try to improve yourself, you’ll encounter obstacles, both internal and external. But don’t worry, just keep moving forward, be yourself, and become who you want to be. I’ll protect you from all the monsters and demons.”

Lou Mi, an only child, enjoyed having a little sister to protect.

She expected Chi Lin to blush or express gratitude, but Chi Lin, putting down her chopsticks, looked at her seriously.

“You too,” she said. “If you’re ever in trouble, tell me. I’ll protect you too.”

Chapter 39

Since the groundbreaking game “Reshape the Universe” opened up a new world two decades ago, holographic gaming had become a dominant form of entertainment for young people worldwide.

“Reshape the Universe” paved the way for a surge of popular holographic games:

“Secret Rendezvous,” a dating and social simulation game, setting records for concurrent players and revenue.

“Fantasy Food World,” offering realistic culinary experiences in historical settings.

“Primitive Trails,” allowing players to experience life from the Stone Age onward, interacting with extinct creatures and plants.

These games ushered in a golden age of holographic gaming.

Other popular titles followed, including “Galactic Fighters,” “Crime Scene,” and the current reigning champion, N-T Corporation’s wuxia-themed “Return to Jianghu,” each game influencing fashion and pop culture trends.

Professional esports teams and players enjoyed immense popularity and recognition.

These athletes, representing their countries on the world stage, were not just celebrities, but heroes to their fans.

And now, one of these heroes, a world champion, stood outside Class 6.

HighTowerMiyuki was known for both her exceptional skills and her striking beauty.

But with the prevalence of filters and image manipulation, online appearances were often deceptive. And no one was perfect.

HighTowerMiyuki’s image as a flawless goddess was likely just a persona, carefully crafted for the online world. Few had seen her in person.

Some even speculated she was secretly… unattractive.

Now, here she was, at South Lake Third High, her face uncovered, her beauty undeniable.

The online videos didn’t do her justice.

She was a thousand times more stunning in person!

Lou Mi, seeing the stunned silence, realized her presence had not just caused a commotion, it had stopped time.

She scanned the classroom through the reflective glass, searching for Chi Lin.

“Chi Lin,” she called out, spotting her in the back and waving.

The glint of the ring on her finger caught the light, momentarily blinding the students.

Why is Lou Mi here? And dressed so… elegantly? This isn’t the usual casual, aloof Lou Mi…

Chi Lin, like her classmates, was mesmerized.

Wei Zhuoning, after several attempts, finally managed to snap her out of her trance.

“Chi Lin… HighTowerMiyuki is calling you…”

Wei Zhuoning couldn’t believe her own words, almost ripping Chi Lin’s uniform in her excitement.

Chi Lin, the first to recover, smoothed her clothes and walked to the back door.

Lou Mi joined her, and they stood face to face, the entire class gathered behind Chi Lin, their ears perked up, their phones recording.

Messages flew through the class group chat, summoning students from other classes to witness the spectacle.

Even Gao Xiang and his friends, moments ago ready to brawl, now stood transfixed, their rivalry forgotten.

The power of fandom could indeed bring peace.

Chi Lin felt the weight of countless gazes, a different kind of attention from the one she had been accustomed to, or even the attention she received when with the Empress.

Her relationship with Lou Mi was a strange mix of closeness and distance, familiarity and unfamiliarity.

They were connected only by rumors and a shared household.

Now, standing side by side, the center of attention, Chi Lin felt her cheeks flush.

“What are you doing here?” she asked softly, her voice barely a whisper.

“What do you think? Where’s your lunchbox?” Lou Mi asked, her voice clear and loud, her usual commanding tone reaching the entire class.

Lunchbox? Chi Lin remembered.

Peng Ziyuan had mentioned it that morning, but Chi Lin had been preoccupied and forgotten.

Lou Mi held up the lunchbox, smiling.

“Here. Your mother woke up early to make this for you. Don’t waste it.”

Her words were a revelation to the onlookers.

Chi Lin and Lou Mi not only lived together but also with their parents.

And since Lou Mi had said “your mother,” they weren’t blood relatives, suggesting a blended family.

So the “old hag” in the forum post was… Lou Mi?

Who would dare insult Lou-jie like that?

Gao Xiang and his friends were also fans of Lou Mi, Gao Xiang himself a devoted follower.

He was always the top donor during her livestreams, hoping to catch her attention, and he had organized protests on the club’s website when she hadn’t streamed for a while.

His room was plastered with posters of HighTowerMiyuki and the Nine Heavens team. He had never imagined meeting his idol in person.

And he had insulted her online.

He was filled with regret.

“Thank you…” Chi Lin said, taking the lunchbox, noticing the Nori the Demon Child design on the bag. It was the original owner’s favorite character. Peng Ziyuan had been thoughtful.

“Did you come all the way here just to deliver my lunch?” she asked softly.

“Of course,” Lou Mi replied, her voice still loud and clear, ensuring everyone could hear. “What kind of sister would I be if I let you starve?”

The students’ hearts fluttered.

This is so sweet!

Wei Zhuoning grabbed Lin Xiaozhi’s wrist, her breathing shallow.

Lin Xiaozhi looked at her, confused.

Wei Zhuoning’s mind raced with possibilities.

Sisters living together, a blended family!

A rising star and an esports goddess!

She wanted to start a new novel, with these two as the main characters.

This time, A Lin wouldn’t be a side character. She would be the star!

And the other protagonist would be called Mi Xue!

Lin Xiaozhi, unsure of Wei Zhuoning’s reaction, wondered if she was jealous.

She had suspected Wei Zhuoning had a crush on Chi Lin, her constant attention and the use of her name in her novel fueling her suspicions.

To thwart this potential “romance,” she had secured the seat next to Chi Lin.

Once they were deskmates, she could torment Wei Zhuoning with her closeness to Chi Lin.

She even planned to induce Stockholm Syndrome in Wei Zhuoning, turning her jealousy into obsession.

Everything had been going according to plan, but Lou Mi’s appearance had thrown a wrench into the works.

Wei Zhuoning’s attention was now fully focused on Chi Lin.

Her unwavering gaze, her tight grip on Lin Xiaozhi’s wrist…

It made Lin Xiaozhi’s heart ache.

Lin Xiaozhi was clever, even cunning, but she wasn’t omniscient.

She didn’t understand the workings of a writer’s mind, their ability to find inspiration in unexpected places.

She felt like she was losing this battle.

Chi Lin, holding the lunchbox, thanked Lou Mi, then fell silent, the crowd growing larger, their phones recording, their whispers filling the hallway.

“Did you plan this?” she asked softly, referring to Lou Mi’s earlier cryptic remark about “watching the show.”

Lou Mi, looking at the students’ expressions, knew her plan had worked.

“Don’t worry,” she said, leaning closer to Chi Lin, her voice low. “Those rumors will disappear soon.”

Chi Lin, seeing her confident demeanor, was puzzled.

Wouldn’t her high-profile appearance only fuel more rumors?

While Chi Lin, still struggling to understand the nuances of modern social dynamics, worried, Lou Mi remained confident, her plan unfolding perfectly.

She ruffled Chi Lin’s hair, told her to be good, and turned to leave, but the crowd blocked her path.

They surrounded her, eager to take pictures, ask for autographs, even confess their love or ask for mentorship.

Lou Mi, maintaining a gracious smile, answered their questions and posed for pictures.

Students from other schools, hearing about her appearance, rushed over, further adding to the chaos.

The security guards were overwhelmed.

Ms. Qi, seeing the situation spiraling out of control, intervened, restoring order with the help of other teachers and security personnel.

Even the Dean of Students had to make an appearance, but some students refused to leave, chanting Lou Mi’s name.

“Lou-jie! Look at me! I’m Nanfeng1008! I watch all your matches! I love you!”

“Win the Winter World Cup!”

“Nine Heavens rules! Lou-jie is the best!”

Ms. Qi, initially planning to escort Lou Mi off campus, realized it was impossible. She led her to the office, hoping to shield her from the enthusiastic crowd.

Closing the door and windows, blocking out the noise, Ms. Qi finally had a chance to catch her breath.

She felt like Lou Mi’s bodyguard, her clothes disheveled, her collar askew.

Lou Mi, however, looked impeccable, her composure undisturbed.

Ms. Qi had met Lou Mi once before, during the English exam incident.

She had heard rumors about Chi Lin’s famous sister but hadn’t paid much attention.

Today, she witnessed Lou Mi’s star power firsthand.

Her previous low-key visit had almost caused a riot in the office. This slightly more public appearance had almost brought down the entire building.

Ms. Qi asked about the purpose of her visit.

“My sister forgot her lunch,” Lou Mi explained calmly. “I came to deliver it.”

“I see,” Ms. Qi said, then advised, “Your presence here is causing quite a stir, Ms. Lou.”

Lou Mi smiled. “You’re right. You’re clearly a dedicated teacher, concerned about your students. But I wouldn’t be here if my sister hadn’t been… bullied.”

“Bullied? Chi Lin?”

Lou Mi opened the forum post on her phone.

Ms. Qi leaned closer to see, but Lou Mi projected the webpage onto the wall, ensuring everyone could see it clearly.

Ms. Qi and the Dean of Students, who had just arrived, read the post, their faces grim.

Lou Mi, unfazed, pointed at the screen, reading aloud the most offensive comments.

Ms. Qi, unable to bear the insults, asked her to stop.

“What’s wrong with these students?” she said, exasperated. “Wasting their time on such nonsense. Please don’t be upset, Ms. Lou. This isn’t the official school forum. It’s a student-run forum on a different platform. We have no control over it…”

The Dean, realizing the potential consequences of such a dismissive response, especially from a celebrity like Lou Mi, interrupted.

“This is a serious case of cyberbullying. We will investigate thoroughly and hold the perpetrators accountable.”

“That’s what I want,” Lou Mi said firmly. “I want to know who wrote that post, who’s bullying my sister, and who’s spreading these lies. I trust the school will ensure justice for Chi Lin and expose these… malicious individuals.”

Ms. Qi and the Dean nodded in agreement.

“If you need any assistance with the investigation, please don’t hesitate to contact me,” Lou Mi said, projecting her digital business card.

As they were adding her on WeChat, Lou Mi leaned forward, her hands on the desk, her eyes blazing.

“Chi Lin is working hard,” she said, her voice low and menacing. “I won’t tolerate any further disruptions. As teachers, I’m sure you share my sentiment.”

Ms. Qi, intimidated by her intensity, could barely speak. The Dean, chuckling nervously, said, “Of course, of course. This won’t happen again. We promise.”

“Good. I trust you,” Lou Mi said, her expression softening, her earlier fury replaced by a warm smile.

“I’ll be waiting for the results of your investigation.”

“Of course, of course…”

The bell rang, interrupting Chi Lin, who had been eavesdropping at the door. She returned to the classroom.

The students of Class 6, still buzzing from their encounter with HighTowerMiyuki, were too distracted to focus on the lesson.

The geography teacher lectured, while the students, their phones hidden under their desks, chatted excitedly in the group chat.

“Lou-jie is so beautiful! I want to scream!”

“Beauty, kindness, and talent! She’s perfect!”

“Anyone who says no one is perfect needs to see Lou-jie’s picture.”

“You guys are crazy. She’s just a gamer.”

The others ignored the naysayer.

“New fan here! Where do I start?”

“I’ll send you a starter pack. Begin with the 2040 Wheel of Champions tournament. It was a solo competition, and Lou-jie fought her way from 50th place to 1st. Epic!”

“Wow, sounds intense.”

“New fans are so lucky. So much content to catch up on.”

“Chi Lin! Chi Lin! When can we come over to your house?”

“@Chi Lin @Chi Lin @Chi Lin We want to meet Sister Lou! Can you arrange it?”

Chi Lin, her phone on silent, didn’t see the messages, but Lin Xiaozhi, scrolling through the chat, showed her the screen occasionally.

Chi Lin rolled her eyes.

Sister Lou? Since when are we related?

She tuned them out, focusing on the geography lesson, which was still a struggle.

But Lou Mi’s unexpected appearance kept flashing through her mind.

She had known Lou Mi was popular, but she hadn’t realized the extent of her fame.

Dayuan had its share of celebrities, including Chi Lin herself.

But Lou Mi’s star power was on a different level.

The intensity of these teenagers’ fandom was both impressive and slightly alarming to someone from a more reserved era.

Chapter 38

On the bus to school, Wei Zhuoning opened the school forum, as usual.

Five seconds later, she gasped.

“What the…”

She struggled to maintain her balance in the crowded, swaying bus, the nearest handrail occupied by countless hands.

Even if she could reach it, there was no space to grip it.

She focused on her core strength, years of experience in navigating crowded buses having honed her skills.

She was no longer the clumsy girl who fell on people’s backs at every sudden stop.

She could even browse her phone while standing.

The school forum was a breeding ground for rumors, and despite her disdain for it, she couldn’t resist checking it daily.

After reading the comments on her novel, she always checked the forum.

Today’s trending topic was Chi Lin again, but… 211 pages? Wasn’t that a bit excessive?

The first 208 pages were filled with arguments, the original poster’s supporters clearly outnumbered and outmatched by a mysterious force.

And the last three pages were filled with comments from bewildered onlookers.

“Am I seeing things? Over 200 pages? For three blurry pictures?”

“This is the tallest building in the history of our school forum!”

“Is Chi Lin the most popular person in our school now?”

“Are those Chi Lin’s fans? Their fighting power is terrifying!”

“Admin! @PeachBlossomPool Please delete these abusive posts!”

Wei Zhuoning hadn’t realized the online battle that had raged while she was struggling with her homework.

She quickly scrolled through the thread, mentally collecting insults and witty comebacks, impressed by the verbal dexterity of her classmates.

They’re like… literary geniuses.

As she copied and pasted some of the more impressive insults into a document, Lin Xiaozhi, appearing behind her, silently observed, her amusement growing.

Lin Xiaozhi, wearing heeled boots, was already taller than Wei Zhuoning. She could easily read Wei Zhuoning’s phone screen over her shoulder.

Wei Zhuoning, having finished her research, replied to one of the most active detractors:

“If you’re going to try and slander someone, at least vary your insults. I can recognize your writing style, even with a thousand different accounts.”

She closed the thread, then searched the forum for “LXZ,” Lin Xiaozhi’s initials.

Finding nothing new, she lost interest.

Wei Zhuoning lived in the oldest, most rundown part of the city, the so-called slums, far from the gleaming skyscrapers and modern amenities of the city center.

The bus she took was decades old, its human driver replaced by an outdated self-driving system.

The system was old and unreliable, prone to sudden jolts and stops, but at least it hadn’t caused any fatalities yet.

As the bus lurched forward after a stop, the passengers cried out, falling forward.

Wei Zhuoning, with nothing to hold onto, would have fallen if not for a pair of arms catching her from behind.

“Thank you…”

Disoriented, she hadn’t seen her rescuer, only smelled a sweet, peachy fragrance, her face flushing slightly.

She turned, a shy smile on her face, and saw Lin Xiaozhi’s mischievous grin.

“You’re welcome, baby. I know you like being in my arms,” Lin Xiaozhi said.

Wei Zhuoning: “…”

When the bus reached her stop, she pushed her way through the crowd and ran towards the school, ignoring Lin Xiaozhi.

“Hey,” Lin Xiaozhi called after her, examining a long, bleeding scratch on her arm. “That hurts…”

Wei Zhuoning stopped and turned, seeing the deep gash on Lin Xiaozhi’s pale arm.

“What… how did you get that?”

“Saving you from falling. See? I’m bleeding.” Lin Xiaozhi, never one to hide her injuries, showed Wei Zhuoning the wound, her tone almost… coquettish.

Wei Zhuoning reluctantly returned. “What are you doing here? On a bus?”

Lin Xiaozhi always had a chauffeur. Her parents didn’t even trust self-driving cars.

And Wei Zhuoning knew her house was over twenty kilometers away.

“I can be wherever I want,” Lin Xiaozhi replied.

“Then why are you complaining about your arm?”

“You’re so cold…”

“I’m always like this.”

“Not when you were searching for my initials on the forum earlier.”

Wei Zhuoning, mortified, exclaimed, “You were watching me?!”

“I wasn’t hiding. I was standing right behind you. I’m tall, remember?”

Wei Zhuoning, unable to argue with her logic, felt her usual frustration rising.

And with frustration came tears. She could handle online battles, but in person, even a slightly raised voice could trigger her tears.

Her eyes began to water.

Not wanting to cry in front of Lin Xiaozhi, she turned and ran towards the school.

Lin Xiaozhi, surprised by her sudden departure, felt a pang of disappointment. She had woken up at 5 am and taken a long bus ride just for this “chance encounter.”

She walked towards the school, her spirits low, and ran into Chi Lin at the gate.

She gave Chi Lin a half-hearted greeting.

Chi Lin also had dark circles under her eyes. Their combined low energy was almost palpable.

“What happened to your arm?” Chi Lin asked, noticing the bandage.

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just a scratch,” Lin Xiaozhi said dismissively.

Chi Lin saw Wei Zhuoning standing near the entrance of the building, looking at them, then entering the elevator.

Another lovers’ quarrel.

She smiled to herself, a hint of envy in her heart.

At least they had someone to quarrel with.

She missed the Empress’s playful banter and demands for attention.

With five minutes left before class, the elevator was crowded.

Neither Chi Lin nor Lin Xiaozhi enjoyed crowded spaces, but waiting for the next elevator would make them late.

They entered last, and as Chi Lin stepped inside, the other passengers turned to stare at her, as if on cue.

Chi Lin knew why. The forum post. She was the center of attention again.

She calmly turned to face the elevator doors.

When they reached their floor, someone had stuck a note on Chi Lin’s back.

She hadn’t noticed it, walking down the hallway with the note displayed prominently, attracting laughter and stares.

She had assumed it was because of the “kept woman” post.

Lin Xiaozhi, noticing the note, removed it.

It was a piece of paper with the word “Poor” written on it in large letters.

Chi Lin, unfazed, simply crumpled it up and tossed it into the recycling bin.

Entering the classroom, she noticed the unusual atmosphere.

Her desk was covered in 50-cent coins, the smallest denomination of paper currency.

And her tablet had been vandalized with red paint.

“Here’s some charity. Don’t mention it.”

Chi Lin understood the price of fame. Admiration came with its share of detractors.

And with the viral video, the number of detractors had likely increased.

Before, they had confronted her openly. Now, they resorted to petty acts of vandalism.

Lin Xiaozhi, as class president, scanned the room, her face grim.

“Who did this?” she asked coldly.

The classroom was only half full, and no one answered, afraid of being implicated. They all claimed ignorance.

Lin Xiaozhi looked at Xu Yifang and Jiao Minxuan.

“It wasn’t us!” they exclaimed. “We just got here!”

Chi Lin, seeing their panicked expressions, knew they were telling the truth.

Liu Huixin’s desk was empty. She wasn’t here.

The culprit’s identity wasn’t important. Chi Lin didn’t want to waste her time on such trivial matters.

She collected the coins, neatly folded the note, and placed them in the donation box at the end of the hallway.

She then cleaned the paint off her tablet with a disinfectant spray.

Wei Zhuoning, arriving late, saw her cleaning her tablet.

“What happened? Who did this?” she asked, surprised.

Chi Lin shook her head. The history teacher entered the classroom, and they all took their seats.

Before sitting down, Wei Zhuoning tossed a small box to Lin Xiaozhi.

She had gone to the infirmary to buy a first-aid kit for Lin Xiaozhi’s arm.

The box was labeled “Pain-Free.” It was the latest model, with a painless antiseptic and bandage, twice as expensive as the regular kits.

Wei Zhuoning had actually spent money on her.

Lin Xiaozhi smiled, pleased, and winked at Wei Zhuoning.

Wei Zhuoning, scowling, rubbed her right hand on her left, gesturing for Lin Xiaozhi to use the kit.

Tsundere, Lin Xiaozhi thought, biting her knuckle.

Wei Zhuoning was still three months shy of eighteen. The wait was agonizing.

She wanted to devour her…

.

Chi Lin cleaned her desk and focused on the history lesson.

From a corner of the classroom, two pairs of eyes watched her.

“She doesn’t even care?”

“Putting on a brave face. Poor people are good at enduring hardship.”

“Such a pretentious little goody-two-shoes. Disgusting.”

“Let’s show everyone this.”

The history teacher, discussing the Nine Chapters on the Mathematical Art, mentioned its origin in the Eastern Han Dynasty and its significance as the world’s most advanced decimal system.

Chi Lin, captivated by the familiar topic, was suddenly interrupted by a series of notification pings from her phone.

“I said turn off your phones!” the teacher said, frowning. “Who’s still using their phone?”

Before anyone could answer, more pings and vibrations echoed through the classroom.

The students exchanged glances, realizing someone was deliberately disrupting the class.

“Pfft!” One student, having checked the message, burst out laughing.

Curiosity got the better of them, and soon, the entire class was giggling.

The teacher, exasperated, walked down the aisle.

“What’s going on? What’s so funny?”

He reached for the nearest student’s phone. “Let me see your phone!”

“But I wasn’t looking!” the student protested.

“Give it to me!”

The teacher saw a photoshopped picture of a girl in a South Lake Third High uniform, her clothes covered in patches, her skin several shades darker than usual.

The caption: “Pity me.”

He recognized the girl as Chi Lin.

Chi Lin had always been a poor student, her appearance as outrageous as her grades. But she had improved recently, especially in history, so he had a favorable impression of her.

He held up the phone. “Who made this?”

No one answered.

He raised his voice. “Who’s disrupting my class with this nonsense?!”

The classroom, filled with laughter moments ago, was now silent.

Lin Xiaozhi said, “Mr. Hong, the sender’s name is ‘No Husband.’ Check everyone’s phones.”

The teacher, adopting her suggestion, had everyone place their phones on their desks.

“That’s despicable!” a voice shouted from the back.

Lin Xiaozhi turned, smiling sweetly. “Being despicable is part of my job description as class president.”

The student fell silent. The teacher approached him and saw his phone wasn’t on the desk.

“Put your phone on the desk,” he said.

Reluctantly, the student handed over his phone.

The teacher, having identified the culprit, confiscated his phone and sent him to stand in the hallway.

“If you don’t want to learn, that’s your choice. But don’t disrupt the other students.”

After class, he took the student to the office and handed him over to Ms. Qi.

“Gao Xiang has been pursuing Jiao Minxuan for a while,” Lin Xiaozhi explained to Chi Lin. “He’s probably trying to get revenge for his goddess’s humiliation. Be careful, Chi Lin. You’re a target now.”

Chi Lin, seemingly unfazed, smiled. “You know everything, don’t you?”

“Of course,” Lin Xiaozhi replied, wanting to say, Just check the school forum. It’s filled with gossip about you. But she knew Chi Lin wouldn’t want to see it, so she simply said, “I’m the class president.”

“You make being class president sound so… shady.”

Sensing Wei Zhuoning’s gaze, Lin Xiaozhi leaned closer to Chi Lin, covering her ear and whispering, “I didn’t even want to be class president. Ms. Qi forced me.”

Chi Lin: “…Do you have to be so close?”

Gao Xiang, after a lengthy lecture from the history teacher and Ms. Qi, returned to the classroom, his face grim.

He didn’t confront Chi Lin directly. He gathered his friends and started discussing the merits of pickled vegetables and the hardships of rural life, their laughter echoing through the classroom.

A girl approached them. “How can you mock your classmate like that?” she said, her voice dripping with false concern.

Gao Xiang and his friends turned to look at her.

“She might be poor,” she continued, “but at least she knows how to sew. And fight. Be careful what you say. She might use her farm-honed strength on you.”

So she was one of them. Gao Xiang, looking at Chi Lin, added, “So that’s how she got so strong. Practicing with a hoe in the fields. My apologies.”

They all burst out laughing.

Chi Lin debated whether to ignore them or confront them.

But another confrontation would only create more problems for Peng Ziyuan.

Teenagers in this era were exposed to adult dramas and relationships, making them seem more mature than previous generations, but their emotional and social skills were still underdeveloped.

Online toxicity had seeped into their lives, and the “don’t be a coward” mentality fueled their conflicts.

School violence was a serious problem.

And these passionate teenagers were willing to fight for their friends and beliefs.

Gao Xiang, defending Jiao Minxuan, and Chi Lin’s supporters, defending her.

“Say that again, you little punk!”

Several students confronted Gao Xiang and his friends.

Gao Xiang’s group, undeterred, stood their ground.

“What are you going to do about it? Go back to your farm, you poor bitch!”

They grabbed each other’s collars, shoving and shouting, the classroom filled with insults and the scraping of chairs.

Even Wei Zhuoning joined the fray. Lin Xiaozhi, seeing Wei Zhuoning being pushed, grabbed a nearby desk, ready to use it as a weapon.

A full-blown brawl was imminent.

Chi Lin sighed.

She had to intervene. She couldn’t let her supporters get hurt.

Sorry, Peng Ziyuan. You’ll have to deal with this later.

As she stood up, ready to throw Gao Xiang and his friends out of the classroom, someone tugged at her sleeve.

A girl, her gaze fixed on the window, said, “Chi Lin, is that… for you?”

Half the class was preparing for a fight, the other half captivated by the woman outside the window.

An invisible wall seemed to divide the classroom into two separate worlds.

Chi Lin turned and saw… a stunningly beautiful woman.

Lou Mi, holding a lunchbox, tapped on the window.

She removed her sunglasses and asked softly, “Is Chi Lin in this class?”

The boy by the window, mesmerized, stammered, “Mi… Mi… Mi… HighTowerMiyuki?!”

The other students gasped, realizing who it was.

Holy crap, it’s her! In person!

Even Gao Xiang and his friends froze, their fists raised mid-air, their gazes shifting to the window.

The classroom had never been so quiet, not even during class.

Chapter 37

After the system’s explanation, Chi Lin realized she had accidentally cast her phone screen to Lou Mi’s device during a video conference with the entire team.

And the post was about her and Lou Mi, filled with accusations of a scandalous relationship.

Had Lou Mi seen the words “kept woman” and “old hag”?

Chi Lin felt dizzy with shame.

She had never been so embarrassed in her life.

Modern technology was a curse.

As she was about to hide under her bed, Lou Mi knocked on her door.

Lou Mi knocked repeatedly, but there was no response.

“Come out,” she said, trying to control her anger. “I won’t hurt you. Let’s talk.”

The door slowly opened, revealing Chi Lin’s wide, anxious eyes.

“I haven’t even said anything yet, and you’re already looking guilty?”

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to. Did you see it all?”

“Every word,” Lou Mi replied.

“And not just me. My entire team saw it.”

Chi Lin’s eyes widened. “Why? Were you…”

“Yes, I was in a video conference. Your… projection skills are impressive. You hijacked my screen. Everyone saw it. That post was… huge.”

Chi Lin felt like she couldn’t breathe.

Those scandalous accusations, seen not only by Lou Mi but also by her entire team…

“It was an accident,” she said, her voice trembling. “I didn’t mean to. I swear.”

She showed Lou Mi how she had accidentally cast her phone screen.

“But how did it connect to my phone?” Lou Mi asked.

“I don’t know. The system connected automatically,” Chi Lin replied.

The system helpfully explained, “Chi Lin’s phone was previously connected to HighTowerMiyuki’s device, so it automatically connected again.”

“But how did you know my password?”

Chi Lin, still struggling to understand the concept of “casting,” had no answer.

Only the original owner would know.

She remained silent, her head lowered. Lou Mi assumed she was feeling guilty.

“You somehow stole my password, hoping to create some family drama, right? Typical,” she said, then softened her tone, seeing Chi Lin’s dejected expression. “But you said it was an accident. Yelling at you would just make me seem like a bully.” She poked Chi Lin’s head. “Go to your room and do your homework. I’ll deal with this and come back later to settle the score.”

“Will you really forgive me?” Chi Lin asked.

“What choice do I have? We still have to live together. Being angry at you will only hurt me. But I have some questions for you. Be prepared.”

Chi Lin knew she wanted to ask about the “kept woman” accusation.

She had no idea how to explain that.

Seeing her continued silence, Lou Mi, wanting to reassure her, offered her a carton of milk.

Chi Lin took the milk, relieved.

Lou Mi chuckled. “What’s this? The victim comforting the perpetrator? Go do your homework!”

“Okay,” Chi Lin said, retreating to her room.

Lou Mi knew Chi Lin wasn’t responsible for the post. She was also a victim.

But the person who took those pictures and wrote that post… they had to be punished.

Returning to her bedroom and rejoining the video conference, she apologized to her team. “Sorry about that. My… little sister was messing around. Let’s continue.”

She maintained a calm and professional demeanor, finishing the meeting without further incident.

Her composure, however, was not shared by her teammates.

They had been furious during her absence.

“What the hell was that?!”

“That was Mi-jie in the pictures!”

“Kept woman?! Who is Mi-jie keeping?”

“It was probably just her sister in the taxi. How did it turn into this?”

“Those words are disgusting! I’m so angry!”

“How dare they slander Mi-jie like that! Those little brats are asking for trouble!”

The trainees had also recognized their idol. They could identify her from a single strand of hair.

These trainees were professional gamers when holding their controllers, and fierce protectors of Lou Mi when online.

The internet was a toxic place, and celebrities like Lou Mi had both fans and haters.

Most of the trainees were experienced in online battles, their skills honed in defending Lou Mi against her detractors.

Seeing her insulted like this, they were ready to unleash their fury on the perpetrator.

After the meeting, Lou Mi logged off. Xie Buyu immediately found the offending post on the school forum and created a “Revenge Squad” group chat, inviting her enraged teammates and the trainees, who promptly offered over fifty newly created accounts.

Xie Buyu: “That was fast!”

Trainee A: “Of course. I’m a one-person army.”

Zhuo Jinglan: “Don’t do anything rash…”

Trainee B: “They dare slander our Mi-jie? We’ll bury them alive!”

Trainee C: “Should I call in reinforcements? I have two hundred people in my fan group ready to go.”

Xie Buyu: “Don’t overdo it. It’s just a school forum. We don’t want to be accused of bullying.”

Pagoda: “They didn’t hold back when they attacked Mi-jie! Did you see those disgusting words? Our Mi-jie hasn’t even had her first love, and they’re accusing her of keeping a girl! I’m so angry!”

Xie Buyu: “…If Mi-jie hears you say that, she’ll be even angrier.”

The trainees, each recruiting a hundred more, declared, “For Mi-jie! Charge!”

Zhuo Jinglan’s heart pounded. “Don’t go too far. Don’t cyberbully them.”

Pagoda: “Lan-jie, they started it. This is self-defense.”

Trainee A: “Don’t worry, Lan-jie. We’re just… unrelated fans. This has nothing to do with the club.”

“I have 108 insult templates. Sharing them now.”

“Charge!”

Zhuo Jinglan: “…”

How can I possibly be reassured by that?

Lou Mi went to Chi Lin’s room and knocked on the door.

Chi Lin, during Lou Mi’s absence, had managed to finish her homework and review her geography and math notes, despite her racing thoughts.

She opened the door immediately.

Lou Mi, surprised by her uncharacteristic eagerness, said, “Wow, you’re quick. So enthusiastic.”

“Did you… take care of it? Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Don’t worry about it. The meeting is over. They won’t say anything.”

“Do you want a late-night snack? I can make something.”

“No, thanks,” Lou Mi said, sitting on the sofa. “I want to ask you about that post. What’s going on?”

Chi Lin had prepared an explanation, eager to reassure Lou Mi.

Before she could speak, Lou Mi asked, “Are you being bullied at school?”

Chi Lin had expected accusations, not concern.

She hadn’t considered those petty incidents “bullying,” but Lou Mi’s concern made her want to confide in her.

“Not exactly bullying… just some… disagreements with a few classmates. I tried to ignore them, but sometimes, ignoring them doesn’t make them go away.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Chi Lin was taken aback. Was that the main point?

“You’re always so busy. I didn’t want to bother you with such trivial matters.”

“You’re treating me like a stranger?”

“No…”

Chi Lin felt a sense of frustration, but she wasn’t panicking.

The Empress had also used these tactics, feigning anger to elicit apologies and affection. Chi Lin had initially struggled to respond, but she had learned to appease the Empress.

“I just didn’t want you to worry,” she said. “And those… rumors… I didn’t want to… taint your reputation.”

Lou Mi knew what “rumors” she was referring to.

The “kept woman” accusation wasn’t the main source of her anger. Being seen with a high school girl, even as her designated guardian, was bound to attract gossip.

And with the legalization of same-sex marriage, rumors about two women together were not uncommon.

What angered her were the insults about her age and appearance.

But she couldn’t reveal her vanity to Chi Lin.

“You should tell me everything, whether it’s related to me or not. Especially if someone is bullying you. As long as you call me ‘Sister,’ I’ll protect you.”

Chi Lin looked at her, touched by her sincerity.

Peng Ziyuan had also vowed to protect her.

“Thank you, Sister,” she whispered.

“Don’t mention it. Do you know who wrote that post?”

“I have a pretty good idea.”

It couldn’t be Xu Yifang and Jiao Minxuan. They had just been punished and were avoiding Chi Lin.

The anonymous poster, judging by the tone and writing style, was likely Liu Huixin.

“Good,” Lou Mi said. “I’ll have a… chat with her.”

“No, please don’t,” Chi Lin said quickly. “I’ll handle it myself.”

“How?”

Lou Mi, surprisingly persistent, opened the forum on her phone and found several threads about Chi Lin, accusing her of being manipulative, two-faced, poor, and kept by an “old hag” who drove a taxi.

Lou Mi read them all, a growing unease settling in her stomach.

She wasn’t easily offended. She had endured far worse insults online.

But seeing Chi Lin targeted like this… it angered her.

“I’ll take care of it,” she said, locking her phone.

“Take care of what?” Chi Lin, seeing her darkening expression, feared she might go on a rampage, like in “Return to Jianghu.”

Lou Mi, dressed in a formal suit for the video conference, her makeup impeccable, her lips a vibrant red, leaned back against the sofa, a confident smile playing on her lips.

She exuded an aura of mature sophistication.

“Don’t worry about it. Just watch the show.”

Her cryptic response only piqued Chi Lin’s curiosity.

But she wasn’t one to pry. She knew Lou Mi had her own methods.

And being protected… it was a surprisingly pleasant feeling.

After Lou Mi left, Chi Lin checked the forum thread again, thinking she was seeing things. She refreshed the page.

Seventy-seven pages. She hadn’t been mistaken.

How had it grown so much in such a short time?

And the replies were all… defending her, attacking the original poster.

What had happened while she wasn’t looking?

Had the post gone viral outside the school forum?

Lou Mi, browsing the thread earlier, had also noticed the unusual activity, the newly created accounts and their fervent defense of Chi Lin. It seemed… familiar.

She messaged Xie Buyu:

“Are you guys behind the activity on the South Lake Third High forum?”

Xie Buyu, at home, juggling multiple devices and accounts, was in the midst of an online battle.

Several users were fighting back.

“So the perpetrator is feeling the heat. Looks like the OP was telling the truth.”

“Is Chi Lin losing sleep over this? Showing her true colors?”

“CL, be a decent human being and shut your trap.”

What the hell? They’re not just spreading rumors, they’re provoking us?

“Attack!” she commanded in the Revenge Squad group chat.

Lou Mi, not receiving a reply from Xie Buyu, refreshed the page. Eighty-two pages.

This is a war zone.

She wasn’t interested in online battles. She took a bath and went to bed.

Xie Buyu and the trainees fought until 2 am, then finally collapsed from exhaustion.

When she woke up the next morning, the thread had reached 208 pages.

What happened last night? Did they stay up all night fighting?

She didn’t know that Pagoda had spent the entire night battling online, using three computers and four phones, almost adding a tablet to the mix.

Liu Huixin, on the other end, juggling multiple accounts, had almost passed out from exhaustion. Her mother’s banging on her door had finally forced her to stop and go to bed.

She overslept, missing her bus stop and waking up at the end of the line, startled by the cleaning robot.

She rushed back to school, arriving late and earning a lengthy lecture from the Dean of Students in the cold morning air. She felt utterly defeated.

Chi Lin hadn’t slept well either, plagued by chaotic dreams.

She couldn’t remember the details, but the lingering fatigue was evident.

She skipped her morning exercises, her eyes half-closed as she went to wash up, almost bumping into Lou Mi.

“Sorry… I didn’t see you,” she mumbled.

Lou Mi poked her head. “You’ve been apologizing a lot lately. Where’s your mind? Rough night?”

Chi Lin nodded.

“Such a fragile little flower,” Lou Mi teased.

Peng Ziyuan, having woken up early, had prepared a special lunchbox for Chi Lin, filled with char siu and chicken wings.

“Baby, don’t forget your lunch. It’s by the door,” she said.

Chi Lin thanked her, but her mind was elsewhere.

She left the house without the lunchbox.

Peng Ziyuan, seeing the forgotten lunchbox, sighed.

“I even reminded her…”

Lou Mi, overhearing her, said, “I’ll take it to her. You go to work.”

“That’s too much trouble,” Peng Ziyuan said.

Lou Mi smiled. “It’s fine. I have some business at South Lake Third High today. It’s on my way.”

With Lou Lixing and Peng Ziyuan gone, Lou Mi was alone in the house.

She put on a new designer outfit, applied elaborate 3D-printed makeup, spritzed herself with perfume, and looked at her reflection in the mirror, her long hair cascading down her back.

She looked stunning, her beauty radiating confidence and power.

She usually tried to avoid being recognized in public, but today was different.

Today, she wanted to make a statement.

She twisted the ring on her finger, Chi Lin’s matching ring.

She would show those ignorant little girls what a real woman looked like.

Chapter 36

Fearing the situation might escalate, Ms. Qi quickly offered Peng Ziyuan a glass of water.

“Ms. Peng, we’re here to solve problems, not create them. We all want what’s best for Chi Lin, right? Please, have a seat. Let’s discuss this calmly.”

Ms. Hu, intimidated by Peng Ziyuan’s outburst, retreated.

Peng Ziyuan took the water, remembering her doctor’s advice to avoid stress and anger, which aggravated her thyroid condition.

She had been practicing mindfulness and maintaining a calm demeanor, but her daughter being bullied was her trigger point.

She could tolerate anything else, but not this.

“Chi Lin!”

Dong Xiangwen, the self-proclaimed “know-it-all,” rushed over to Chi Lin’s desk.

“Your mom is here! She’s fighting with Ms. Qi in the office!”

Chi Lin, shaking her head at the distorted historical accounts in her textbook, was startled by the news.

She knew Peng Ziyuan had been called to the school because of the cafeteria incident.

But why hadn’t Ms. Qi informed her directly?

She rushed to the office, expecting a chaotic scene.

But the office was surprisingly peaceful.

Peng Ziyuan and Ms. Qi stood side by side, Ms. Qi smiling nervously.

Two unfamiliar women were shaking hands with Peng Ziyuan, apologizing profusely.

Peng Ziyuan’s expression was calm and composed, her demeanor regal.

Chi Lin recognized the look. It was the same expression the Empress Dowager wore before ordering an execution. The two women were like her attending servants.

There was no fight, just… a surprisingly harmonious scene.

Chi Lin’s sudden entrance was awkward.

They all turned to look at her. Peng Ziyuan’s regal composure vanished instantly, replaced by her usual dramatic flair. She rushed towards Chi Lin, engulfing her in a hug.

“My baby! My precious child! Why didn’t you tell me about this? You poor thing! Let me see you!”

She cupped Chi Lin’s face, her movements too swift for Chi Lin to dodge.

Unlike the previous head-crushing grip, this time, her touch was gentle, her fingers stroking Chi Lin’s cheeks.

Chi Lin, already cringing at the overly affectionate terms, felt suffocated by the embrace.

“Mother, please… restrain yourself,” she gasped.

Peng Ziyuan finally released her, reluctantly, after Ms. Qi cleared her throat.

“This is Chi Lin? Such a fine young lady,” one of the women said.

“And so well-mannered,” the other added.

Chi Lin, recognizing them as Xu Yifang and Jiao Minxuan’s mothers, felt a flicker of amusement.

She wasn’t exactly “well-mannered.” If she were truly virtuous, these mothers wouldn’t be here.

“You flatter me,” she said, her words a subtle jab at their hypocrisy.

Years of interacting with the scholars of the Hanlin Academy had honed her skills in veiled sarcasm.

But the mothers, oblivious to her subtle mockery, continued their praise.

“Such eloquence! No wonder her grades have improved so much. Minxuan should learn from you.”

Chi Lin: “…”

She was being praised for her… deviousness. Perhaps she should have been less clever.

Xu Yifang and Jiao Minxuan’s mothers had planned to demand Chi Lin’s expulsion.

“Assaulting another student in the cafeteria? That’s outrageous!”

“And no one even helped our daughters! People are so apathetic these days!”

But after hearing the audio from the video, witnessing Peng Ziyuan’s confrontation with Ms. Hu, and realizing their daughters had been the instigators, they had changed their strategy.

They had seen the mother’s ferocity. The daughter must be equally formidable.

They couldn’t risk provoking such a family.

“Let’s be reasonable,” Xu Yifang’s mother said to Jiao Minxuan’s mother.

“Yes, let’s not make enemies,” Jiao Minxuan’s mother agreed.

And so, Chi Lin found herself being praised by three mothers.

It wasn’t the scene she had imagined.

Ms. Qi, who had anticipated a chaotic confrontation between the parents, was also surprised by the peaceful resolution.

She hadn’t even had a chance to mediate. Instead, she found herself being lectured by the mothers.

“The school should have intervened and prevented this misunderstanding. How could you let them fight?”

“This isn’t the children’s fault. The school should take responsibility.”

“It’s the school’s duty to guide and educate students. Where’s the Dean? I need to speak to him.”

Peng Ziyuan, seeing their sincere apologies, joined the chorus of complaints against the school.

Her casual remarks were more effective than any formal complaint. Ms. Qi, flustered, couldn’t get a word in edgewise.

Peng Ziyuan walked Chi Lin to the school gate. It was still during school hours, so Chi Lin couldn’t leave.

“Go back to class, baby,” Peng Ziyuan said, stroking her head, her eyes filled with love. “I’m so sorry you had to go through this. I should have been there for you.”

Peng Ziyuan’s unconditional love was a foreign concept to Chi Lin, who had never known a mother’s affection.

She envied the original owner. The mother she resented was actually kind and protective.

“I’m fine,” Chi Lin said. “I don’t mind. I just… don’t want you to worry.”

She wasn’t sure how to interact with a mother, having only known a father and older sisters.

She had seen other girls act spoiled and affectionate with their mothers, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

Peng Ziyuan, touched by her daughter’s maturity, hugged her tightly.

“Knowing you care about me is all that matters. I’ll do anything for you, baby. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

Peng Ziyuan’s tears fell on Chi Lin’s arm, warm and comforting, like a mother’s embrace.

Chi Lin, her heart softening, hugged her back.

Due to the parents’ reconciliation and apologies, the school decided on a lenient punishment.

Chi Lin, Xu Yifang, and Jiao Minxuan received a public reprimand, their names displayed on the school’s website.

The reprimand was reposted on the school forum, sparking outrage among Chi Lin’s supporters.

“This is unfair! Chi Lin was defending herself!”

“So self-defense is punishable now?”

“Poor Chi Lin!”

Xu Yifang and Jiao Minxuan, already scolded and punished by their parents, now faced the scorn of their classmates, their whispers and stares a constant reminder of their humiliation.

They had always been bullies, relying on their small clique for protection, but now, facing a larger, more powerful force, they were powerless.

And they were genuinely afraid of Chi Lin.

They believed the rumors about her… supernatural abilities.

Chi Lin, the sword-dancing fairy, had become a legend, the video of her performance going viral, even trending on social media.

Some admired her, others accused her of seeking fame.

Chi Lin ignored the online chatter, her focus on her search for the Empress.

However, her newfound fame attracted media attention. Reporters wanted to interview her, and even a popular TV show invited her to appear as a guest.

Chi Lin, unfamiliar with modern media, was unsure how to proceed.

Fame would increase her chances of being noticed by the Empress.

But her unusual abilities might attract unwanted attention.

Fortunately, she knew a contemporary celebrity.

She could ask Lou Mi for advice.

Lou Mi returned late that night, looking tired and annoyed.

Chi Lin, mustering her courage, offered her a cup of calming tea and explained the situation.

Lou Mi: “Appear on TV? Don’t do it.”

“Why not?”

Lou Mi, a seasoned celebrity, explained, “Once you’re in the public eye, there’s no escape. Your every move, your friends, your life… everything will be scrutinized. You’ll have to wear masks and sunglasses everywhere, afraid of making a single mistake. You’ll be constantly judged and criticized. Do you want that kind of life?”

It sounded like the life Chi Lin was used to.

She had been the subject of public attention since childhood, a prodigy in both academics and martial arts, the favored companion of the princess, who later became Empress.

Her writings had been circulated throughout the empire.

She didn’t mind scrutiny, but the speed and reach of modern media were far greater. Living under constant surveillance, as Lou Mi described, would be a hindrance, even for simple tasks like visiting the library.

She decided to maintain her current level of fame.

It was enough that people knew of a sword-dancing, martial arts master at South Lake Third High. They didn’t need to know her face.

These rumors might reach the Empress, and it would be easier for Chi Lin to move around without being recognized.

Perfect.

Having made her decision, she asked Lou Mi, “Do you… want to be a celebrity?”

“A celebrity?”

“You’re prettier than most idols. You could be famous.” Lou Mi sat down, stretching her legs, her muscles sore from a day of practice.

Her words, however, were sharper than her aching muscles.

Chi Lin had heard the term “idol” often, but she didn’t know its meaning.

Judging by Lou Mi’s tone, it wasn’t a compliment.

“Only someone as beautiful as you, Sister, deserves to be an idol,” Chi Lin replied, returning the compliment, regardless of its meaning.

Lou Mi, expecting an argument, was caught off guard by Chi Lin’s unexpected praise.

She couldn’t possibly be reflecting. The important question was: how beautiful did Chi Lin think she was?

She sat up straight, took a sip of the calming tea Chi Lin had prepared, and asked casually, “Oh? And how beautiful am I?”

Chi Lin smiled internally. Lou Mi, despite her fame and constant praise, still craved compliments.

She didn’t want to overdo it, so she simply said she didn’t know what a true goddess looked like, but if goddesses looked like Lou Mi, everyone would worship her.

Lou Mi scoffed. “That’s a bit much. You’re laying it on thick.”

But her smile betrayed her pleasure.

Lou Mi went to take a shower, humming cheerfully.

Chi Lin had learned a valuable lesson.

Even the most beautiful women never tired of compliments.

Wait… did I just compliment Lou Mi?

I complimented someone other than the Empress…

Even an unintentional compliment was a transgression.

Chi Lin felt a pang of guilt. Returning to her room, she bowed towards the east, as if praying to the Empress.

“Your Majesty, please forgive me,” she whispered. “Finding you is proving difficult. I sometimes resort to… flattery to build relationships. Please don’t be angry.”

While Chi Lin wallowed in guilt, Lou Mi, refreshed from her shower, cheerfully joined the late-night video conference with the trainees.

As the trainees connected, Zhuo Jinglan, noticing Lou Mi’s unusually cheerful demeanor and subtle flirtatiousness, asked, “What’s with the good mood, Mi-jie? Share the joy.”

Lou Mi smiled mysteriously. “Some things are best kept private.”

Zhuo Jinglan was about to tease her further when the last trainee joined.

The trainees were mostly Lou Mi’s die-hard fans, many having joined the club specifically to play with her.

Zhuo Jinglan wouldn’t dare embarrass Lou Mi in front of them.

The meeting, led by Lou Mi, was an introduction to the Nine Heavens team’s traditions and values for the new recruits.

Lou Mi, using the holographic projection feature on her phone, appeared in the virtual meeting room, dressed in formal attire.

Chi Lin, having finished her apologies to the Empress, organized her research materials and prepared to tackle her geography homework.

As she sat down, a message arrived in the Class 6 group chat.

It was a link from an unfamiliar user, someone she hadn’t seen before.

The link’s title: [A Matter of Life and Death for Class 6!!!]

The dramatic tone and excessive exclamation points were… familiar.

Chi Lin, sensing trouble, clicked the link. A prompt asked if she wanted to cast the webpage to a screen.

Her knowledge of modern technology was limited, acquired through trial and error and the system’s explanations.

What did “cast” mean?

She remembered her classmates and Lou Mi using this feature to project their phone screens onto a wall or even the air, enlarging the display.

Curious, she selected “Cast.”

A message appeared: “Searching for available networks.”

Available networks? What did that mean?

As she was about to ask the system, another message appeared: “Connected to HighTowerMiyuki.”

“HighTowerMiyuki…” The name was familiar.

Where had she seen it before?

Or perhaps she hadn’t seen it, but the connection to Lou Mi was undeniable.

Where was the projected image? She looked around her room.

Lou Mi’s bedroom.

“…So, individual heroism is not a viable strategy in modern esports. It’s a team effort…”

Lou Mi’s holographic projection vanished, replaced by a webpage.

Lou Mi: “?”

Zhuo Jinglan, Xie Buyu, and the trainees all stared at the screen.

“What happened?”

“What is this?”

Lou Mi checked her phone. Her projection had been overridden.

What was this? The South Lake Third High forum?

Had Chi Lin hijacked her projection? How?

How did she know her password?

“Hey!” she exclaimed, but no one responded.

Chi Lin, still looking for the projected image in her own room, saw the title of the forum post:

[A Matter of Life and Death for Class 6!!!]

Poster: Ask Me How I’m Doing When I’m Sad

Content:

You wanted proof of Chi Lin being a kept woman? Here it is.

[Picture 1]

[Picture 2]

[Picture 3]

Is that Chi Lin in the car? Recognize that profile?

Can you deny it’s her? You all know what the goddess looks like.

And her “sugar mommy”? A thirty-something-year-old woman who takes taxis. How pathetic.

Two words: cheap and tacky!

Is this the kind of person you want in Class 6?

Sharing a classroom with such a… disgusting individual?

Boycott Chi Lin! Expel her from Class 6!

Maintaining a healthy learning environment is everyone’s responsibility!

Xie Buyu stared at the screen, speechless. “What the…”

Zhuo Jinglan coughed repeatedly, gesturing for Lou Mi to close the webpage.

The trainees had all seen it.

Lou Mi, however, oblivious to Zhuo Jinglan’s frantic coughing, read the entire post, her gaze lingering on the three pictures. They looked… familiar.

They were blurry, long-distance shots, Chi Lin’s profile visible, but the “thirty-something-year-old woman” was only seen from behind.

Others might not recognize her, but Lou Mi did.

That’s… me!

Lou Mi was used to rumors, even outrageous ones, but being called a “thirty-something-year-old woman” was a step too far.

She wasn’t even thirty yet! And even if she were, was thirty old?

People lived to 130 these days! Thirty was practically a teenager!

She was still in her prime!

Furious, she ended the meeting and stormed into Chi Lin’s room.

Chapter 35

“Ow! Be careful!”

Lou Mi winced as Chi Lin helped her to the sofa, her neck still stiff and tilted to the side.

Her cries of pain, directed at Chi Lin, made Chi Lin smile, momentarily forgetting her own anxieties about the abyss.

Lou Mi: “…You almost broke my neck, and you’re laughing?”

“I’m sorry,” Chi Lin said, still amused. “But why did you barge into my room?”

“I didn’t ‘barge in.’ I heard you coughing and choking. I came to help! I’m a hero!”

Then she noticed Chi Lin’s hands, one supporting her head, the other on her neck.

Her most vulnerable body parts were in Chi Lin’s hands. Her bravado vanished.

“Wait,” she said, “are you going to… twist my neck back?”

Chi Lin nodded.

“Are you sure that’s… safe?”

“It’s effective,” Chi Lin said firmly. “I twisted it, so I can untwist it.”

“Is my head a rubber ball? ‘Untwist it?’”

Chi Lin laughed openly now, no longer hiding her amusement.

Lou Mi’s mind filled with a stream of curses: You’re laughing at my pain?

But Chi Lin’s bright smile and dimples were disarmingly cute.

Is she using her cuteness as a weapon now?

“Don’t worry, it won’t hurt,” Chi Lin said. “It’ll be quick.”

Lou Mi: “…’I’ll be back in eighteen years,’ right?”

“Don’t make me laugh. If I laugh, I might actually break your neck.”

“I’m not joking! I’m concerned about my safety!”

“Shh, be quiet. You’re distracting me.”

Lou Mi, wanting to unleash a torrent of insults, swallowed them back, concerned about the long-term consequences of a permanently tilted neck.

She sat on the sofa, while Chi Lin, needing leverage to adjust her neck, stood close, her body almost touching Lou Mi’s.

“I need to stand closer,” she said, anticipating Lou Mi’s reaction.

“Okay,” Lou Mi replied.

“I’ll stand on your left.”

“Okay.”

“You’re twenty-five, right?” Chi Lin asked, seemingly out of the blue.

“So?”

“Never been in a relationship?”

Lou Mi’s heart skipped a beat. Is she asking for a friend? Does she want to set me up with someone?

Before she could respond, Chi Lin’s hands moved swiftly, a loud crack echoing through the room, and Lou Mi’s neck snapped back into place.

A sharp pain shot through her neck.

She gasped, tears welling in her eyes.

The pain was intense, then quickly subsided, leaving a dull ache.

“Move your neck,” Chi Lin said. “See if it’s okay.”

Lou Mi, her vision blurry with tears, tentatively moved her neck.

It was better, but it still hurt.

“How is it?” Chi Lin, seeing her tears, gently massaged her neck and shoulders.

“Were you asking me about my love life to distract me?”

“Of course,” Chi Lin replied honestly.

Lou Mi sighed internally.

She had come to help, and now her neck hurt, and she had been played.

Chi Lin, seeing her dejected expression, thought, Even a celebrity is still just a young person. People in this era are so… emotionally fragile.

Lou Mi, in Dayuan, would be considered a crybaby, her emotions always on display.

Chi Lin softened her touch. “You spend too much time hunched over your computer. Your muscles are stiff. Does this hurt?” she asked, pressing a point on Lou Mi’s shoulder.

Despite the warning, Lou Mi winced.

“Ow! That hurts!”

“Healthy circulation is essential. You keep the room too cold, drink too much ice water, and sit in the same position for hours while gaming. It’s disrupting your qi and causing stagnation. I’ll clear your meridians, then prescribe some herbal remedies to restore balance.”

The pain gradually subsided, replaced by a pleasant warmth.

“Your martial arts manual also covers massage and herbal remedies?” Lou Mi asked, now enjoying the massage.

Chi Lin, realizing denial was pointless, smiled and said, “It covers a wide range of topics, including the importance of practicing Five Elements Fist with me for optimal esports performance.”

Lou Mi gave her a “you’re kidding, right?” look.

“Five Elements Fist is beneficial for everyone. If you don’t like taking medicine, you can at least try the exercises. Join me for my morning routine. It’ll help with your headaches and neck pain. And you need to change your lifestyle. Stop drinking so much ice water.”

“So you want me to join your morning martial arts sessions in the courtyard? What do you think my parents will say?”

“They should join us too,” Chi Lin said seriously. “Five Elements Fist is good for everyone.”

Lou Mi imagined the scene: a family of four practicing martial arts in the courtyard every morning.

And after mastering the fist forms, would they join Chi Lin in hanging upside down from trees?

The neighbors would definitely call the police.

To avoid becoming a viral sensation, Lou Mi politely declined.

“I’ll join you for the evening sessions. My neck and shoulders are stiff. But I can’t wake up that early. And no hanging upside down from trees. And forget about my parents. They’re never home anyway.”

“Then we’ll practice in the evenings,” Chi Lin said.

Evening sessions are better, Lou Mi thought. Less chance of being seen. I’m sacrificing myself for my parents’ reputation.

As the massage continued, Chi Lin stood behind the sofa, Lou Mi’s head resting against the backrest.

Chi Lin had learned massage techniques from books, practicing on the Empress to relieve her fatigue.

Her knowledge of anatomy and pressure points, combined with her strong hands, often lulled the Empress to sleep.

Lou Mi also felt drowsy, her body relaxing.

“Are you tired…?” she mumbled. “Take a break if you are.”

“I’m fine. Go to sleep,” Chi Lin replied.

Lou Mi drifted off.

Chi Lin returned to the bathroom. The guiding star had moved, the abyss had vanished, and the bathtub was back to normal.

She touched the bottom of the tub, feeling the solid surface.

The alignment had lasted for about an hour. So the abyss was only open for an hour.

But how did that translate to time in Dayuan?

Would a modern timer be accurate?

She had so many questions.

…

When Lou Mi woke up, a blue blanket was draped over her, and a small nightlight illuminated the room, casting a soft, starry glow.

Chi Lin was curled up in bed, fast asleep.

Lou Mi got up for a drink of water and stretched her neck.

It felt… different. Light and flexible.

She looked in the mirror. Her shoulders seemed less tense.

“I look good,” she murmured, admiring her reflection.

She returned to Chi Lin’s room and lay down on the sofa, intending to go back to sleep.

When had Chi Lin’s room become so clean and fragrant?

She hadn’t even realized there was a sofa in here before. It had been buried under a pile of clutter.

The posters and fairy lights had been removed, replaced by a pleasant-smelling aroma.

What is that scent…? She drifted off to sleep, the familiar fragrance comforting and soothing.

The next morning, Chi Lin woke up at 6 am. The sound of her slippers startled Lou Mi awake.

Lou Mi, her eyes still heavy with sleep, asked, “What time is it?”

“Six am,” Chi Lin replied.

Lou Mi tried to speak, but her throat was dry and scratchy.

The medication made her thirsty.

Chi Lin poured her a glass of warm water.

Lou Mi had also noticed her increased thirst since starting the neural stimulants.

Chi Lin, remembering her comment about ice water yesterday, had thoughtfully prepared warm water instead.

Lou Mi took a sip, her throat feeling less constricted.

“Thanks,” she said. “That massage was amazing. I fell asleep.”

“How do you feel today?” Chi Lin asked.

“I want another massage.”

Chi Lin frowned. “That’s not what I meant.”

Lou Mi closed her eyes, smiling. “I feel great. Totally relaxed.”

“Good. I’m going to practice my exercises.”

Lou Mi pulled the blanket tighter and waved her hand dismissively.

“Come on, join me. You’re already awake.”

“It’s only 6 am…”

“The early bird catches the worm. Massage isn’t enough. You need exercise.”

“I exercise in the evenings. I’m too tired now.”

“You went to bed before I did last night. You’ve slept for almost four… hours. Sleeping any longer will only make you feel more sluggish and worsen your headaches and memory problems.”

Chi Lin had almost said “four shichen,” then corrected herself.

After three months in this era, some habits were hard to break.

Lou Mi, however, seemed unfazed by her archaic language, attributing it to her “martial arts training.”

She should be grateful Lou Mi was a gamer, accustomed to fantastical concepts.

The words “memory problems,” however, jolted Lou Mi awake.

She sat up. “Can Five Elements Fist really improve my memory?”

“I can’t guarantee it, but it’s definitely beneficial,” Chi Lin replied.

Intrigued, Lou Mi got out of bed.

As she put on her workout clothes and joined Chi Lin in the courtyard, starting with a horse stance, she wondered if Esports Syndrome was making her… gullible.

Practicing martial arts at 6 am was not normal behavior.

But maybe it would actually work.

Chi Lin could cure a stiff neck with a flick of her wrist. And she was always energetic, despite her late nights and early mornings. Perhaps it was the martial arts.

She would try it. If it didn’t work, she could always stop.

“Okay, follow my lead. Left punch,” Chi Lin said, demonstrating the movement slowly.

As they practiced, Lou Lixing and Peng Ziyuan, their arms intertwined, entered the courtyard, their faces glowing with post-coital bliss.

Peng Ziyuan, startled by the sight of two figures in workout clothes, almost dropped her bag.

Embarrassed by their public display of affection, she quickly released Lou Lixing’s arm.

Lou Lixing, who had been leaning on her for support, almost stumbled.

“What are you two doing?” he asked, intrigued.

“Exercising,” Peng Ziyuan replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

She had seen Chi Lin practicing martial arts before and, after Lou Mi’s explanation, hadn’t thought much of it.

But why was Lou Mi participating now?

“You should join us, Mother, Uncle Lou,” Chi Lin said sincerely. “It’s good for your health.”

Lou Lixing, touched by her polite address, said, “Thank you, Xiao Lin, but my back isn’t what it used to be. I might injure myself.”

“Chi Lin gives excellent massages,” Lou Mi said. “She can fix your back in no time.”

“Really?” Peng Ziyuan asked, surprised. “Baby, when did you learn massage therapy?”

Chi Lin, caught off guard by Lou Mi’s words, glared at her.

She had only massaged Lou Mi because she had accidentally injured her neck.

Massage was an intimate act. She couldn’t just offer it to an older man.

Thankfully, Lou Lixing also felt it was inappropriate. “No, no, Xiao Lin is busy with her studies. And Mimi, don’t distract her. She has the college entrance exam next year. It’s a crucial time for her.”

Lou Mi, being told not to bother Chi Lin, was a novel experience.

“I wish I had time to bother her,” she muttered.

“No, no, Sister has been very helpful,” Chi Lin said. “She’s been tutoring me.”

“See?” Lou Mi said.

Peng Ziyuan, witnessing their newfound camaraderie, was deeply moved.

Xiao Lin was finally normal. She had feared her daughter’s difficult personality would lead to a life of loneliness and isolation, perhaps even a life of crime.

But now, everything was changing.

Her joy, however, was short-lived. A message arrived from Ms. Qi, asking her to come to the school.

“Fighting? Is… is my baby hurt?” Peng Ziyuan asked, her voice trembling as she replied.

“It happened two days ago,” Ms. Qi said. “I tried to contact you yesterday, but I couldn’t reach you.”

Peng Ziyuan, overwhelmed with work, had silenced all non-essential notifications during her day off with Lou Lixing, inadvertently including Ms. Qi.

She apologized. Ms. Qi sighed.

“Ms. Peng, I need to speak to you in person, not her sister. It’s always best to discuss these matters with the mother. You need to be more involved in your daughter’s life.”

Peng Ziyuan felt a pang of guilt. She had arranged the business trip with Lou Lixing partly to give Lou Mi and Chi Lin a chance to bond, hoping they would set aside their differences and become a family.

Their peaceful coexistence was a prerequisite for her and Lou Lixing’s marriage.

She had initially been worried, but Lou Lixing had reassured her.

It had worked. Lou Mi and Chi Lin were getting along now. But she had indeed neglected her daughter lately.

She dropped everything and rushed to the school.

In Ms. Qi’s office, she watched the video of the cafeteria fight.

“Chi Lin used to be… eccentric, but she never resorted to violence. I thought she had improved, but this… public brawl is unacceptable,” Ms. Qi said.

Peng Ziyuan’s heart ached.

“She never told me about this…”

“You need to be more involved in her life,” Ms. Qi said. “I know parents are busy, especially single parents. But your child’s well-being should be your top priority. And with the college entrance exam approaching, you need to be there for her.”

Peng Ziyuan felt even more guilty and self-reproachful.

Her daughter had been bullied at school and hadn’t even complained, pretending to be happy and well-adjusted at home.

When had Xiao Lin become so considerate?

“You need to communicate with her more,” Ms. Qi continued, discussing Chi Lin’s recent improvements and the rumors circulating on the forum. “Do you know who she’s been spending time with?”

“Wait,” Peng Ziyuan interrupted, seemingly not hearing the last part. “Rewind the video and turn up the volume.”

Ms. Qi: “…”

Despite the background noise, Xu Yifang and Jiao Minxuan’s taunts were clearly audible.

…

Without Liu Huixin’s charity, she can’t even afford meat.

My leftover breakfast… I’m being so generous.

With your patched-up uniform, you’re probably used to…

…

Peng Ziyuan saw and heard everything, including the dropped pork cutlet landing on Chi Lin’s plate.

The other teachers in the office also heard the insults, their faces grim.

“That’s awful,” one of them murmured.

Peng Ziyuan’s expression turned cold. “Ms. Qi, did you hear that? My daughter was bullied. Who could tolerate such insults? She showed remarkable restraint. If it were me, I would have attacked them sooner!”

Ms. Qi, who had expected a discussion on disciplinary measures, was taken aback by Peng Ziyuan’s reaction.

“Ms. Peng, please calm down…”

“I am calm. Is it wrong to defend your child against bullies? You’re a mother too. If your child were treated like this, you would be ten times more furious.” Peng Ziyuan pointed at the screen. “This is a school, an educational institution, and these girls are your students. Who are they? Have you contacted their parents?”

Ms. Qi’s forehead beaded with sweat. “Let’s focus on Chi Lin’s behavior…”

Peng Ziyuan interrupted. “My daughter did nothing wrong! Is the victim being blamed now? If anything, she was too lenient! She should have thrown the food back at them!”

Peng Ziyuan, a veteran of online fan wars, was more than a match for Ms. Qi.

Ms. Hu, the English teacher, having listened quietly, finally spoke, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“She did nothing wrong? If every student acted like her, this school would be a war zone.”

Peng Ziyuan turned to her, her gaze icy. Ms. Hu took a sip of water, trying to maintain her composure.

“So according to you, students should just tolerate bullying and humiliation? My daughter should have just eaten that dirty pork cutlet?” Peng Ziyuan leaned forward, her hands on Ms. Hu’s desk. “How about I slap you right now, and you just… take it? Set a good example for the students?”

Ms. Hu’s face paled. She stood up abruptly, backing away.

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“Try me!”

Xu Yifang and Jiao Minxuan’s mothers, arriving at the office, witnessed the scene and froze, taking a step back, as if wanting to disappear.

Chapter 34

“What happened?”

Lin Xiaozhi, having missed the main event while getting food, returned to find the cafeteria still buzzing with excitement. She asked Wei Zhuoning, concerned.

“Your precious Class 6 students are running wild,” Wei Zhuoning said, recounting the incident.

“Xu Yifang and Jiao Minxuan again?” Lin Xiaozhi sighed. “I’ve already reported them to the Dean. He’s keeping an eye on them. They have a long list of offenses. Next time, it won’t just be a call home.”

“But they started it!” Wei Zhuoning protested. “Someone was filming. The video should be evidence, right?”

“The only evidence on video is me pinning them down,” Chi Lin said.

Wei Zhuoning: “…”

As predicted, the video of the cafeteria fight went viral on the school forum before afternoon classes even started.

South Lake Third High’s headline news:

[Cafeteria Showdown: Fairy vs. Two Ogres!]

The videographer was clearly talented, the footage steady and clear, capturing every detail.

And the angle was perfect, showcasing Xu Yifang and Jiao Minxuan’s smug expressions and Chi Lin’s swift and decisive counterattack.

The moment Chi Lin slammed Xu Yifang’s face into her plate, accompanied by gasps from the surrounding students, was perfectly captured.

And the subsequent takedowns of both girls.

Ignoring the noisy background and poor audio, the video was worthy of a theatrical release.

“Was this staged?”

“No, I was there. It happened so fast. Those two ogres were picking on the fairy.”

“Anonymous: I’m from Class 6. Those two girls are friends with CL’s former deskmate. They had a falling out, and now they’re targeting CL.”

Wei Zhuoning, seeing Chi Lin being dragged into the drama, replied, “It wasn’t a ‘falling out.’ They were bullying her.”

A reply: “Wei Zhuoning? The clueless one from the video?”

“The one who froze when the fairy unleashed her powers.”

Wei Zhuoning: “What the fuck? Who are you? Show your face!”

“Back to the topic. So CL actually knows martial arts? The sword dancing could have been a performance, but that kind of strength isn’t something you can fake.”

“She pinned them down with one hand! Not just strength, but technique.”

“I asked my brother. She’s definitely trained.”

“Even most guys can’t do that. How did she get so strong?”

“She’s so slender, yet so powerful!”

“Our school flower is a martial arts master!”

“I’m not interested in… muscle girls, but one detail caught my attention.”

[Zoomed-in screenshot]

“Look at this.”

The picture zoomed in on Chi Lin’s neck, revealing a glimpse of a ring she was wearing as a pendant, hidden beneath her uniform collar.

“Isn’t that a designer ring?”

“Weren’t there rumors about her being poor and relying on classmates for food? How can she afford that?”

“It’s probably fake.”

“I’m an expert in identifying fake designer goods. That ring is definitely real.”

The forum thread devolved into a chaotic mix of discussions about camera techniques, martial arts, Chi Lin’s background, and the authenticity of luxury goods.

Then, someone brought up Liu Huixin, mentioning her obsessive pursuit of Teng Jiang, her failed attempt to sneak into his house, and her humiliating encounter with his guard dog.

And how she had instigated Xu Yifang and Jiao Minxuan to target Chi Lin out of jealousy.

The thread reached over 800 replies. An anonymous user, “Rotten Fish Pond,” defended Liu Huixin, claiming she had been supporting Chi Lin financially.

“If not for Liu Huixin’s generosity, Chi Lin would have starved. Use your brains before spreading rumors.”

Another anonymous user, “Wu Baiyuan,” retorted, “Are you Liu Huixin? Everyone knows your family is on welfare. And you’re receiving financial aid. If you have that much money to spare, I’ll help you write a statement declining the aid. Let someone who actually needs it benefit from it.”

“Rotten Fish Pond” was indeed Liu Huixin, her username itself an insult to Chi Lin.

But who was Wu Baiyuan?

Liu Huixin was stunned.

Since the library incident, she had been avoiding direct confrontation with Chi Lin, fearing her… strange powers.

But she hadn’t given up on revenge.

She had been spreading rumors about Chi Lin being a freeloader and a kept woman.

She was behind several anonymous posts on the school forum, but they hadn’t gained much traction.

Today, Xu Yifang and Jiao Minxuan had taken matters into their own hands. Liu Huixin had been in the cafeteria, watching from a distance, cheering them on.

She had anticipated a humiliating defeat for Chi Lin, a chance to reclaim her position as Teng Jiang’s favorite.

But Chi Lin had turned the tables, her counterattack swift and brutal.

Liu Huixin knew this incident would only increase Chi Lin’s popularity.

The sword dance video had already gone viral. She couldn’t let it happen again.

She had to discredit Chi Lin while the thread was still trending.

But her attempt had backfired spectacularly.

Who was this Wu Baiyuan? How did they know about her family’s financial situation?

And they had even tagged her, revealing her real name…

Who… who could it be…?

Lost in thought, she didn’t notice Chi Lin approaching her.

“Liu Huixin,” Chi Lin said softly.

Liu Huixin jumped, startled, knocking over several chairs.

The classroom fell silent.

“What’s wrong with her?”

“She’s acting strange…”

“Why is she so scared of Chi Lin?”

Chi Lin said, “Ms. Qi wants to see you.”

Ms. Qi? Why? Is it about the forum post?

Even Ms. Qi knows now?

Will my parents be called? They’ll kill me if they find out about my failing grades.

Liu Huixin, her mind racing, nervously made her way to the office.

Chi Lin, observing her, guessed the reason.

She had overheard Ms. Qi discussing Liu Huixin’s declining grades with another teacher. Ms. Qi had asked Chi Lin to deliver the message.

Liu Huixin wasn’t afraid of her, she was afraid of the consequences of her own actions.

What goes around comes around.

But… who was this “Wu Baiyuan” on the forum?

With three minutes left before class, Wei Zhuoning was frantically typing on her phone.

She was almost at the climax of the chapter. Once the new character appeared, A Lin would unleash her ultimate move!

But she was stuck on the character’s name.

She was terrible at naming characters, hence her habit of borrowing names from her classmates.

As she struggled, Lin Xiaozhi, appearing beside her, offered a suggestion.

“How about… Wu Baiyuan?”

“You scared me! You’re worse than Liu Huixin!” Wei Zhuoning exclaimed, then considered the name. “Wu Baiyuan… I like it. Can I really use it?”

“Of course,” Lin Xiaozhi said, her chin resting on her hands, her gaze fixed on Wei Zhuoning. “Anything you want, I’ll give it to you.”

Wei Zhuoning blushed, remembering their kiss at the movie theater after the museum trip. “You’re crazy!” she said, her voice louder than intended.

.

Back home, Chi Lin printed the research materials she had gathered.

The system estimated eight minutes for 143 pages.

Chi Lin decided to take a bath while she waited.

As she stepped into the bathtub, her foot met… nothing.

She gasped, grabbing the edge of the tub and pulling herself back, her heart pounding.

She stood outside the tub, staring at the water, confused.

Then, she realized.

She put on her clothes, opened the bathroom window, and looked at the sky. The guiding star was aligned with the moon.

If she entered any large body of water today, she would be transported back to Dayuan.

Preoccupied with her life in this era, she had forgotten about the guiding star.

Lou Mi, on her way to the kitchen, heard the commotion in Chi Lin’s bathroom and knocked on the door.

“What are you doing? Are you okay?”

Chi Lin, her forehead damp with sweat, replied, “I’m fine.”

“Be careful in there,” Lou Mi said. “You’re not a child anymore.”

Chi Lin, not wanting to reveal anything, said, “I’m not doing anything. Just go.”

Lou Mi, taken aback by her cold tone, paused.

What’s wrong with her now? We were getting along last night. Is she having another episode?

Normally, she would have pounded on the door until Chi Lin apologized.

But Chi Lin was in the bathroom. Dragging her out would be… awkward.

She decided to let it go and address it later… if she remembered.

Chi Lin, listening at the door until Lou Mi’s footsteps faded, returned to the bathtub and cautiously reached into the water.

The non-slip surface at the bottom of the tub… vanished.

She saw a dark abyss.

If she entered it, she would return to Dayuan.

Taking a deep breath, she slid into the tub and swam towards the abyss.

It was cold and silent, devoid of light and sound.

She tried to open her eyes, but it made no difference.

There was nothing here, except her.

Was this what awaited her after death? An endless void?

Her heart ached.

One day, she would cross this darkness, carrying the light of her life, and return to her homeland, reunited with the Empress, never to be parted again.

The sensation against her skin wasn’t water. It felt… different.

A strange thought crossed her mind: she was swimming through time.

The thought gave her pause.

The Preceptor had said she would return to the moment she left.

But he hadn’t said she could return multiple times.

What if this was a one-way trip?

The thought sent a shiver down her spine. She turned and swam back towards the light, the familiar warm glow of her bathroom.

From the abyss, it seemed faint and distant, like a flickering candle about to be extinguished.

She swam faster, her desperation growing.

She broke the surface, gasping for air, coughing violently as the bathwater entered her lungs.

Lou Mi, carrying a plate of ice cream waffles, passed by Chi Lin’s room and heard the coughing.

Having forgotten her earlier annoyance, she knocked on the door, concerned.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Chi Lin couldn’t answer, her throat constricted, her body wracked with coughs.

Lou Mi, alarmed, opened the door and saw Chi Lin, her clothes soaked, coughing uncontrollably, her wet uniform clinging to her body, almost transparent.

She quickly wrapped a towel around Chi Lin, rubbing her back.

Chi Lin’s coughing subsided, her face flushed, her usual composure replaced by a surprising vulnerability.

Lou Mi, averting her gaze from Chi Lin’s exposed skin, looked at the bathtub.

“What happened? Tell me the truth. Were you practicing your… martial arts?”

Chi Lin, noticing her gaze, remembered the abyss.

She couldn’t let Lou Mi see it.

She quickly cupped Lou Mi’s face, turning her head, their eyes meeting.

The warm bathroom light illuminated their faces, the moment charged with an unexpected intimacy.

Chi Lin saw her own reflection in Lou Mi’s dark eyes.

Lou Mi’s features were indeed striking, her eyes captivating, reminiscent of the Empress’s beauty.

Even Chi Lin’s heart skipped a beat.

Why is she staring at me like that?

What is she going to do?

Lou Mi finally spoke. “Chi Lin,” she said, pointing at her neck, “did you hear a crack when you… twisted my head?”

Chi Lin: “…”

“I can’t move my neck! Did you break it? You finally attacked me!”

Chi Lin’s mind went blank, her cheeks burning with shame at her earlier inappropriate thoughts.

She helped Lou Mi to the sofa and gently straightened her neck.

Chapter 33

The large steak Lou Mi had treated her to, a normal portion for most people, had been too rich for Chi Lin, accustomed to a lighter diet.

Driven by curiosity in her early days in this era, she had indulged in various high-calorie and processed foods, but after learning about modern food production methods, she had returned to her more health-conscious habits.

She had tried to be polite and not refuse Lou Mi’s offer, but the steak had left her feeling bloated and uncomfortable.

She couldn’t overeat today.

Hearing Wei Zhuoning mention the school cafeteria, she asked if she could join her for lunch.

She had heard of a legendary figure in the school cafeteria: the lunch lady in Section A.

This lunch lady controlled the most important section, where the best dishes were served.

She was a master of portion control, each scoop containing precisely one slice of meat, or if two, then two small, broken pieces. Never more.

When the rise of artificial intelligence threatened to replace many human jobs, someone had suggested replacing the lunch ladies with robots, but the proposal had been rejected.

The school administration believed the lunch ladies were more effective at cost control than any AI.

Though the students often complained about the cafeteria food, Wei Zhuoning liked it.

She wasn’t picky about food, as long as it was filling, and the school cafeteria was incredibly affordable.

Where else could you get a full meal for 10 yuan?

With her allowance running low, the cafeteria was her refuge.

Chi Lin had never been to the cafeteria, but she had heard it offered a variety of vegetarian dishes, which suited her current dietary needs.

Wei Zhuoning, surprised by her request, said, “You seriously want to eat there?”

“Yes,” Chi Lin replied.

“Don’t blame me if you get food poisoning.”

Chi Lin smiled. “Of course not. It’s my choice.”

They made plans to meet for lunch.

“Where are you two lovebirds going?”

Lin Xiaozhi, appearing out of nowhere, startled them.

Wei Zhuoning had been avoiding her all morning, but she was like a shadow, always lurking nearby.

Wei Zhuoning was about to say “It’s none of your business” when Chi Lin said, “To the cafeteria. Want to join us?”

Lin Xiaozhi, of course, couldn’t resist. “Sure! I haven’t had lunch with my former and current deskmates together before.”

Wei Zhuoning tried to escape, but Lin Xiaozhi grabbed her arm, practically dragging her to the cafeteria.

Despite the constant complaints, the school cafeteria was a haven for students with limited funds.

South Lake Third High was a public school, with a diverse student body, from wealthy families to struggling students from nearby towns.

The wealthy students formed their own cliques, avoiding the poorer students.

The middle-class students, or those pretending to be middle-class, used the cafeteria as a marker of social status, as if eating there was a sign of poverty.

Chi Lin, unaware of this social dynamic, went along.

Wei Zhuoning, however, didn’t care about their judgment. She was poor, and there was no shame in it.

Her mother, a victim of a broken heart and a runaway boyfriend, had raised her alone, enduring the scorn of their relatives.

Her grandparents had only visited her twice, offering a small amount of money, then disappearing.

They had two sons to worry about.

Their disdain was ingrained, a prejudice that ran deep.

Even in this technologically advanced era, some prejudices persisted, a constant source of pain.

Some families found reconciliation and healing, but not Wei Zhuoning’s.

Wei Zhuoning had always struggled academically. Her mother had never scolded or punished her, simply saying, “A child’s intelligence comes from their mother. If I were smarter, we wouldn’t be in this situation. It’s my fault. Your struggles are my responsibility.”

Her mother had encouraged her to try her best, not to leave any regrets.

“Grades don’t define your life. I just want you to be happy.”

Wei Zhuoning had taken her words to heart. She had tried to excel in school, but her grades, especially in math and science, remained poor.

Then, she discovered her talent for writing. She posted a story online, and to her surprise, people read it.

Two months later, she received her first royalty check, over 3,500 yuan. She had been so excited she couldn’t sleep.

The next day, she took her mother to the mall and bought her the shoes she had always wanted.

She continued writing, driven by passion and the desire to provide a better life for her mother.

Her mother, only twenty when she had Wei Zhuoning, had worked tirelessly to support her, even giving up her dreams of graduate school.

Wei Zhuoning wanted to repay her sacrifices.

She knew people mocked those who ate at the school cafeteria, but she was poor, and she wouldn’t hide it.

But the two people she was with today didn’t belong here.

Chi Lin, despite the patched-up uniform and rumors of poverty, arrived at school in a luxury car.

And Wei Zhuoning had once seen a glimpse of an expensive designer ring dangling from her collar, a matching couple ring.

The ring alone cost more than a year’s worth of cafeteria meals.

Chi Lin was a walking contradiction, her family’s financial situation a mystery.

Lin Xiaozhi, however, was undeniably wealthy.

Her parents owned a successful logistics company, their two skyscrapers in the city center iconic landmarks.

In junior high, she had invited over twenty friends to her birthday party at her sprawling mansion.

She was the daughter of privilege, spending her days playing games and somehow maintaining excellent grades.

Wei Zhuoning felt a sense of unease, dining with these two.

They entered the noisy, crowded cafeteria, the air thick with the smell of food.

Chi Lin, however, was unfazed. She had endured far worse conditions during her military campaigns.

Even as an Empress, she had known hardship and wasn’t one to complain. She found the bustling atmosphere… comforting.

They found a table, and Lin Xiaozhi told Chi Lin to get the food while she and Wei Zhuoning saved their seats.

“I can save the seats myself,” Wei Zhuoning said.

“How can one person save a table for four?”

“Just lie down and spread out,” Wei Zhuoning retorted.

Lin Xiaozhi: “…”

Wei Zhuoning, pleased with her rare verbal victory, went with Chi Lin to get their food, observing their interactions.

Their easy banter and comfortable silence spoke volumes.

Lou Mi was right. They’re definitely dating.

Chi Lin chose a plate of vegetarian dishes. Wei Zhuoning, noticing the lack of meat, wondered if she was having financial difficulties. And her pants were patched up.

She added a chicken leg to Chi Lin’s plate. “Eat more. You’re too skinny.”

Chi Lin, wanting to explain her dietary preferences, decided to accept the kind gesture and thanked her.

As they returned to their table, Lin Xiaozhi, eyeing the chicken leg, whispered to Wei Zhuoning, “When will you be this nice to me?”

Wei Zhuoning ignored her and went to get her own food.

Chi Lin observed their exchange, reminded of her early interactions with the Empress.

During their teenage years, the Empress had often found excuses to bicker with her, criticizing her writing and finding fault with everything she did. It had seemed like constant annoyance, but in hindsight, it had been the Empress’s way of seeking her attention, of creating opportunities for closeness.

Chi Lin hadn’t understood then, simply enduring the princess’s demanding nature.

Now, with the Empress lost and reincarnated somewhere in this vast world, she saw those interactions in a new light.

Lost in thought, she didn’t notice Xu Yifang and Jiao Minxuan approaching their table, their chopsticks poking and prodding at the food on her plate.

Xu Yifang, after a thorough and noisy inspection, tossed her chopsticks onto Chi Lin’s plate and sneered.

“Wow, so healthy. Not a speck of meat. How… pathetic.”

Jiao Minxuan sighed dramatically. “Without Liu Huixin’s charity, she can’t even afford meat.”

Chi Lin calmly removed the chopsticks and ignored them.

Xu Yifang pulled a plastic bag from her backpack, containing a fried pork cutlet. “This is my leftover breakfast,” she said, unwrapping the bag. “It’s a bit soggy, but still delicious. Smell it.”

She dangled the pork cutlet in front of Chi Lin’s face, crumbs falling onto the table.

“It’s not just delicious, it’s expensive. At least twenty yuan. You probably can’t afford this kind of gourmet food. But I’m too full to finish it. So I’m giving it to you. No need to thank me. Wasting food is a sin.”

“Are you two insane?” Wei Zhuoning asked.

Xu Yifang, startled, dropped the pork cutlet onto the dirty cafeteria floor.

“How clumsy,” Jiao Minxuan said, picking it up and smiling at Chi Lin. “It seems destined for you. It’s still meat, even if it’s been on the floor. Just wipe off the dirt. You won’t mind, right? With your patched-up uniform, you’re probably used to… leftovers.”

She dropped the pork cutlet onto Chi Lin’s plate, splattering sauce everywhere.

The surrounding students stared and whispered.

Wei Zhuoning, furious, yelled, “Are you deliberately trying to provoke her? Do you have nothing better to do? You’re both idiots!”

Xu Yifang grabbed Wei Zhuoning’s plate and threw it across the room, the food splattering on the floor and almost hitting a passing student.

Screams erupted. The other students sensed a fight brewing.

“It’s those girls from Class 6.”

“Isn’t that Chi Lin?”

“Chi Lin? The one from the sword dance?”

“This is going to be good! Is there going to be a fight?”

“She should have brought her sword!”

Xu Yifang and Jiao Minxuan exchanged a look.

Mission accomplished. Time to retreat.

As they turned to leave, Chi Lin grabbed Xu Yifang’s wrist.

“I warned you. Don’t provoke me.”

Her eyes were cold and menacing. Xu Yifang struggled to break free, but Chi Lin’s grip was like iron.

“Let go! You’re hurting me!” she cried, her face red with anger and embarrassment.

Jiao Minxuan tried to push Chi Lin away. “Let go of her! Help! Someone’s attacking us!”

The other students watched, no one intervening.

Chi Lin tightened her grip, twisting Xu Yifang’s arm behind her back and pinning her against the table.

Xu Yifang’s face landed in her plate, pressed against the pork cutlet.

“You said you didn’t want to waste food,” Chi Lin said. “Eat it.”

Xu Yifang, unable to move, yelled, “Let go of me, you bitch!”

Wei Zhuoning, initially ready to defend Chi Lin, stared, dumbfounded by the sudden turn of events.

It was like a scene from a movie.

“Damn! That was badass!”

“She doesn’t even need a sword!”

The crowd grew larger. Jiao Minxuan, grabbing her backpack, started hitting Chi Lin over the head.

“Let go! I’ll call the teacher! I’ll call the police!”

Chi Lin, without turning around, grabbed Jiao Minxuan’s collar and pulled her forward, pinning her against the table next to Xu Yifang.

They looked like turtles flipped on their backs, struggling to right themselves.

“Stop! Which class are you in? No fighting in the cafeteria!”

A teacher intervened, but Chi Lin didn’t let go.

“Apologize,” she said to Xu Yifang and Jiao Minxuan.

Trembling, they mumbled, “Sorry.”

“Apologize to Wei Zhuoning,” Chi Lin said.

They turned to Wei Zhuoning and apologized.

Wei Zhuoning almost said “It’s okay,” then stopped herself.

Chi Lin released them, and they slid off the table, gasping for breath, humiliated and defeated.

They had been publicly shamed, their pride in tatters. They burst into tears and ran away.

Chapter 32

Besides the main exhibition on national achievements, the National Museum had smaller galleries with permanent displays of ancient artifacts. Chi Lin meticulously examined every item and description, careful not to miss any details.

She could spend an hour in a gallery the size of a small room.

She took countless pictures of ancient coins that looked identical to Lou Mi.

Lou Mi’s legs ached. She regretted bringing Chi Lin here.

Who knew someone could be so obsessed with a museum?

Chi Lin, however, felt a deep sense of satisfaction, her phone filled with pictures of ancient artifacts.

Noticing Lou Mi shifting impatiently, she realized she had been lost in her own world.

“Are you tired? Should we leave?”

“I’m fine,” Lou Mi said, trying to sound energetic. “We’re athletes. We have stamina.”

“Good,” Chi Lin said. “Let’s explore a few more galleries.”

Lou Mi: “…”

Chi Lin chuckled. “Just kidding. I’m hungry. Let’s get something to eat.”

Lou Mi flicked her bun. “Don’t tease me, you little brat.”

The bun, however, was surprisingly solid, unmoved by her flick.

Is there a rock hidden in there?

Chi Lin turned, her expression serious. “Don’t touch my hair.”

Her tone was so stern that Lou Mi almost apologized.

She stopped herself just in time. An apology would ruin her authority.

“Hair… have you been possessed by the museum?” Lou Mi teased, deciding to assert her dominance by choosing the restaurant. “I’m taking you somewhere special. You’ll love it.”

She took Chi Lin to a Western restaurant.

“They have excellent steak. Try it,” she said.

Steak? Chi Lin was wary.

When the steak arrived, Chi Lin observed Lou Mi’s technique before attempting to eat it herself.

Lou Mi cut the steak into small pieces with her knife and fork.

Simple enough. Chi Lin tried to cut her own steak, but the knife wouldn’t budge.

Is this knife dull?

She glanced at Lou Mi, who was effortlessly cutting her steak.

They had the same cutlery. Was she not using enough force?

Chi Lin, having regained some of her strength in this new body, was not one to be defeated by a piece of meat.

She focused her energy and sliced down. A loud crack echoed through the restaurant. She had not only cut through the steak but also cracked the plate in half.

Chi Lin: “…”

Lou Mi: “??”

How did that even happen…?

“I’m so sorry,” Chi Lin mumbled.

The manager rushed over to replace the plate.

“I’ll pay for it,” Chi Lin said.

The manager, having never encountered such a situation, was stunned. This small, delicate girl had superhuman strength?

“Would you like me to cut it for you?” he asked.

Chi Lin was about to agree when Lou Mi said, “I’ll do it. Give it to me.”

The manager placed Chi Lin’s steak in front of Lou Mi and left. Lou Mi cut the steak into small pieces, thinking, That little brat is strong… I still don’t believe she doesn’t have a secret manual. Good thing she’s normal now. Otherwise, we’d all be in danger.

They drove home in silence. Only Tiger greeted them enthusiastically, wagging its fluffy butt. Lou Lixing and Peng Ziyuan were nowhere to be seen.

Chi Lin took Tiger for a walk in the designated dog park within the community.

Though they had a yard, the park offered more space for Tiger to run freely.

With Chi Lin and Tiger gone, Lou Mi messaged Lou Lixing.

“Dear Dad, where are you? Not checking up on you, just wondering if you’ll be home tonight. I’ll leave the door unlocked if you are.”

Five minutes later, Lou Lixing replied: “We’re not coming home tonight. Sleep well.”

Lou Mi’s heart sank.

Another all-nighter?

The house is big enough. Why can’t they just… stay home? What are they so embarrassed about?

Then she remembered. When Peng Ziyuan and Chi Lin had first moved in, Chi Lin had been a terror, banging on their door and throwing tantrums whenever they tried to be alone.

Now, though still somewhat unusual, Chi Lin’s behavior was less extreme. But her parents had apparently developed a habit of staying out overnight.

Lou Mi wasn’t upset about being left alone with Chi Lin. She was annoyed that her forty-something-year-old father had an active nightlife, while she, at 25, was stuck at home.

And her only “date” today had been a tedious museum trip that almost broke her legs.

Chi Lin returned from the park, wiped Tiger’s paws, and went to her room to organize the pictures she had taken at the museum.

Lou Mi, passing by her room, saw her printing the pictures and covering her walls with them, like a detective analyzing crime scene photos.

“Here,” Lou Mi said, handing her a cup of calming tea.

“Thank you,” Chi Lin said, finally taking down her bun, her hair slightly damp from a recent wash.

She looked tired, forcing herself to stay awake.

“Good grades don’t happen overnight,” Lou Mi said. “Get some sleep. You’ll be more focused and productive tomorrow.”

Chi Lin took a sip of tea. “You go to bed later than I do.”

“I can’t sleep. If I could, I’d sleep for a whole day. Can you?” Lou Mi said seriously. “Don’t compare yourself to me in that regard. Focus on the positive.”

“Are you still having trouble sleeping?”

“Occasionally. And headaches.”

“Headaches?” Chi Lin asked. “Related to the neural stimulants?”

Lou Mi was surprised she remembered.

“It’s called Esports Syndrome. It’s a common side effect of playing holographic games for extended periods. It’s not serious. Like getting sore eyes from staring at a screen too long.”

Chi Lin nodded slowly.

“Is that English teacher still giving you trouble?”

“No.”

“How are your English scores?”

“I got a 92 on the last quiz.”

“Wow, a passing grade! How about the other subjects?”

“Still struggling, except for Chinese.”

“We’ll continue tutoring tomorrow night. Don’t worry about it tonight.” Lou Mi reached out and quickly ruffled Chi Lin’s hair. “Go to bed. No staying up late.”

“Okay,” Chi Lin said, feeling a wave of exhaustion. She had barely slept last night, her mind racing with thoughts of the library incident and her search for the Empress.

Her voice, soft with fatigue, said, “Good night, Sister.”

Lou Mi, without responding, closed the door, her face flushed.

As the door clicked shut, her heart pounded.

I want a cute girlfriend… like Chi Lin, soft and sweet, like a marshmallow.

.

Whether due to the calming tea or Lou Mi’s comforting words, Chi Lin slept soundly and almost overslept. She skipped her morning exercises, rushing through her hair and makeup, then realized she couldn’t find her uniform!

She searched frantically, finally finding it in the courtyard. Tiger, having chewed a hole in her pants, was lying on top of the uniform, looking up at her with a mischievous grin.

“Get off!” Chi Lin scolded, and Tiger scampered away.

She retrieved the uniform and examined the damage. The hole in her pants was… significant.

“This is outrageous.”

She had two sets of uniforms, but the other one was dirty.

Thankfully, Tiger had only chewed a hole, not… peed on it. She could sew it up.

Frugality was ingrained in her, a virtue befitting an Empress.

She asked the system for a sewing kit.

“The sewing kit is missing,” the system replied. “But you can use the automatic sewing machine.”

“Automatic sewing machine?”

It sounded incredibly convenient, and it was.

She placed the damaged pants on the scanner, and the machine, with a whirring sound, sewed up the hole in seconds.

A faint seam remained, but it was barely noticeable.

Chi Lin put on her uniform and rushed out, skipping her usual morning greeting with Lou Mi, who was still asleep.

She grabbed a pancake from a street vendor and took a taxi to school.

Fifteen seconds left!

“Hurry!”

Students sprinted towards the closing gates.

The security guard shouted, “Ten seconds!”

Wei Zhuoning, having stayed up late, struggled to keep up.

The gates were almost closed. She was so close!

“Don’t rush! You’ll get caught!” the guard warned.

But the students, fueled by adrenaline, ignored him, squeezing through the narrowing gap.

Wei Zhuoning, about to be shut out and marked late, felt a surge of despair.

A hand reached out from inside and pulled her through.

The gates slammed shut, leaving several students stranded outside.

Wei Zhuoning, gasping for breath, looked at Chi Lin. “Thanks…”

Chi Lin had also been running, but she had adapted to this body, her speed and strength returning. And after a good night’s sleep, she felt energized. The sprint had been effortless.

“Don’t rush the gates,” she said. “It’s dangerous. You almost got caught.”

I would have stopped if you hadn’t pulled me, Wei Zhuoning thought, but she couldn’t very well say that.

“I know…” she mumbled.

As they took the elevator, Chi Lin asked, “Where did you go yesterday?”

It was a casual question. They weren’t close friends, but trapped in a confined space, small talk was inevitable.

And yesterday’s encounter was a natural topic.

Chi Lin’s casual question, however, triggered a panicked reaction in Wei Zhuoning. Her face flushed.

“Nowhere… just… wandered around the museum,” she stammered.

Chi Lin, looking at her phone, said, “Really? We were there too. Didn’t see you.”

Wei Zhuoning felt like she was being interrogated.

Thankfully, the elevator reached their floor. She bolted out.

The elevator, however, wasn’t properly aligned with the floor. Wei Zhuoning tripped and almost fell.

Lin Xiaozhi caught her just in time.

Wei Zhuoning, drenched in sweat, was about to thank her when Lin Xiaozhi whispered in her ear, “Not enough cuddling last night? Throwing yourself into my arms this morning?”

Wei Zhuoning pushed her away and ran to the classroom.

Chi Lin, watching her flee, asked, “What’s wrong with her?”

Lin Xiaozhi grinned. “She’s rushing to contribute to the socialist modernization of our country.”

When Chi Lin reached her desk, Lin Xiaozhi’s seat was empty. She had joined Wei Zhuoning in the back corner, their heads together, whispering.

As Chi Lin opened her tablet to check the schedule, Xu Yifang, sitting diagonally in front of her, turned around, a smug smile on her face.

Chi Lin: “?”

Xu Yifang held up her phone, displaying a close-up picture of the seam on Chi Lin’s pants.

“Frugality is a virtue,” she said sweetly. “I thought such traditional values were extinct. But I see someone is keeping them alive.”

Jiao Minxuan, her deskmate, sneered. “Just admit you’re poor. No need for excuses. Even my grandma doesn’t wear patched-up clothes.”

Their words elicited laughter from the surrounding students, who all stared at Chi Lin’s pants.

“She actually sewed them up!”

“Chi Lin is so beautiful, kind, and… frugal.”

Xu Yifang and Jiao Minxuan promptly posted the picture on the school forum.

They had been waiting for this opportunity.

Over the weekend, they had met up with Liu Huixin, concerned about her recent behavior and seat change.

“What’s going on? We can never reach you.”

“Are you sick? You’ve lost so much weight.”

Liu Huixin, her eyes welling up, started to cry.

“Is it because of Chi Lin?” Xu Yifang asked.

Liu Huixin burst into tears. “That bitch! She’s so ungrateful!”

Jiao Minxuan handed her a tissue. “Tell us what happened! We’ll help you get revenge!”

Liu Huixin, wiping away her tears, recounted the recent events, accusing Chi Lin of stealing Teng Jiang’s affections, despite knowing about Liu Huixin’s feelings for him.

“Of all people, why him?!” She had repeated her fabricated story so many times that she now believed it.

Xu Yifang grimaced. “That Chi Lin is such a snake.”

“A total ingrate!”

“Calling her an ingrate is too kind. She’s a two-faced, manipulative bitch.”

“Exactly!” Liu Huixin exclaimed. “Look at those idiots in our class, falling for her innocent act! They’re all so pathetic! It’s embarrassing!”

Xu Yifang said, “I actually liked Tan Luo, but even she’s obsessed with Chi Lin now. Is there anyone in this school who isn’t fooled by her?”

Jiao Minxuan sneered. “Just us. We tried to expose her on the forum, but look at those replies.”

“They’re all idiots!” Xu Yifang exclaimed.

“Don’t worry,” Jiao Minxuan said, comforting Liu Huixin. “We have proof now.”

“Proof? What proof?”

“Proof of her sworn sister.”

“You got pictures?!”

“Of course. But we’re giving her one last chance. If she doesn’t back down, we’ll expose her.”

…

The picture of Chi Lin’s patched-up pants was their final warning.

Jiao Minxuan confronted Chi Lin. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. Remember who you are. Don’t push your luck.”

She felt a sense of satisfaction, a righteous anger fueling her words.

She thought she had been assertive yet restrained, avoiding unnecessary cruelty.

Chi Lin, however, simply sneered.

“You have skin, but no manners. Don’t provoke me again. You won’t like the consequences.”

Xu Yifang was confused. “What does that even mean?”

Jiao Minxuan didn’t understand either, but she knew it wasn’t a compliment.

As she was about to retort, she met Chi Lin’s icy gaze.

It sent a chill down her spine.

The words caught in her throat.

“Can you speak normally?!” Xu Yifang exclaimed.

Lin Xiaozhi, returning to her desk, translated, “She said you’re worse than rats. Rats have skin, but you have no shame.”

The surrounding students laughed. “They got insulted and didn’t even realize it! How pathetic!”

“What the f*ck! You…” Xu Yifang began to yell.

The history teacher entered the classroom, and the bell rang.

Xu Yifang and Jiao Minxuan glared at Chi Lin throughout the morning, but Chi Lin ignored them.

Chapter 31

Chi Lin got out of bed without a word.

She turned her back to Lou Mi, put on her slippers, and went to the bathroom.

The room fell silent, and Lou Mi could hear her own heart pounding.

Chi Lin’s few words and icy glare had unnerved her.

Was Chi Lin’s presence that… powerful?

She hadn’t done anything else besides accidentally cuddling her, right?

Images from movies and TV shows, scenes of drunken indiscretions, flashed through her mind.

She peeked under the covers. They were both fully clothed. Not enough alcohol, then.

Chi Lin was taking a long time in the bathroom. Lou Mi, needing to use the restroom, went to the hallway bathroom.

When she returned, Chi Lin had changed into her school uniform and was wearing her backpack.

“Where are you going?” Lou Mi asked. “It’s Sunday.”

Chi Lin was clearly going somewhere.

“I’m meeting some friends. We’re going shopping,” Chi Lin replied.

“Shopping? You didn’t mention anything.”

Lou Mi was surprised. She hadn’t known Chi Lin had friends she went shopping with. The people at the library hadn’t seemed like close friends.

“We just made plans,” Chi Lin said, a slight smile playing on her lips. “I’m leaving now.”

“Where are you going? I’ll drive you.”

Chi Lin hesitated. She hadn’t actually made any plans. She just wanted to escape the awkwardness.

Lou Mi, sensing her lie, said, “The mall? It’s the best place to shop. You can tell your friends to meet you there. If they can’t make it, I can go with you.”

Chi Lin didn’t refuse.

Just like that morning, when she had tried to escape Lou Mi’s embrace but had been pulled back by a single word, “Don’t move.”

Now, she was being drawn in again.

On their way to the mall, Chi Lin, looking at her phone, said, “They can’t make it.”

Lou Mi nodded, not surprised.

“Want to listen to music or watch something?” she asked. “Besides reading, what else do you enjoy? You used to like cartoons, right?”

“Cartoons are fine,” Chi Lin replied.

As Lou Mi browsed the entertainment library, Chi Lin asked, “Aren’t you afraid of running into your fans at the mall?”

“I have my mask and sunglasses. And the mall is huge. Even if they spot me, they’ll have to chase me on those little carts. I have long legs. I can outrun them.”

“Should we go somewhere less crowded?”

“Sure, wherever you want.”

Chi Lin glanced at her, then said softly, “I’m not angry anymore.”

“Oh…” Lou Mi, her eyes still on the screen, the cartoon posters blurring past, said, “I didn’t mean to… you know I’m a restless sleeper. I warned you.”

“I remember.”

“And about what my teammates said last night… don’t take it seriously. They’re always joking, especially about me. They just like to tease. And about the wine glass… I didn’t know you had drunk from it.”

Chi Lin’s chin disappeared into her collar as she mumbled, “Mm.”

Her voice, muffled by the fabric of her uniform, sounded almost… shy.

Lou Mi, relieved, asked, “Want to play some games? Some arcade games to blow off some steam?”

Chi Lin shook her head.

“How about a movie? Holographic movies are even more immersive than games.”

“Something… quieter?”

Lou Mi felt a slight sting. Was Chi Lin calling her noisy?

“A museum? Or a theater performance?”

Chi Lin’s eyes lit up at the mention of “museum.”

Dayuan also had museums, filled with ancient artifacts.

Perhaps she could find something related to Dayuan or the Empress.

“Yes! The museum!”

Seeing her sudden enthusiasm, Lou Mi smiled wryly.

So the museum is her favorite.

“Let me check if the National Museum has any available slots,” she said, pulling out her phone. “Okay, booked. You’re in luck. They have a special exhibition going on.”

A special exhibition? Chi Lin was even more excited now.

“How long will it take to get there?”

“Fifteen minutes via the expressway. Hold on tight.”

“Let’s go!”

Chi Lin was like a caged animal finally released into the wild.

Lou Mi wanted to ruffle her hair, a gesture of affection, but she had just regained her composure and couldn’t risk another awkward moment.

And Chi Lin’s perfectly styled bun, seemingly reinforced with steel, looked untouchable.

Chi Lin, unaware of Lou Mi’s fascination with her hair, was preoccupied with her search for the Empress.

The morning incident had been an accident. Even the Empress would understand…

She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart.

She had no leads on the Empress’s whereabouts.

The Empress could be anyone, but she was exceptional, a once-in-a-century genius. She mastered everything she attempted, surpassing even the most gifted individuals.

Even Chi Lin, a scholar of the Hanlin Academy, couldn’t compare.

According to the Preceptor, the Empress’s soul remained unchanged. With her talent, she wouldn’t be an ordinary person in this era. She would be someone remarkable.

Chi Lin looked at Lou Mi.

Lou Mi: “Let’s watch Frozen. Have you seen it? The TV series episodes are only fifteen minutes long. Perfect for the ride.”

“I haven’t seen it,” Chi Lin replied.

“Me neither. Let’s watch it.”

Lou Mi was remarkable. Her fame was far greater than Chi Lin had initially realized.

She was a world champion, a legend in the esports world, admired by millions.

Besides her occasional frivolity and short temper, she seemed almost flawless.

The Empress had also been somewhat frivolous… but only with Chi Lin.

A wild thought crossed Chi Lin’s mind.

Could Lou Mi be the Empress?

She immediately dismissed the idea.

How could it be that simple? The Empress right beside her all along?

The Empress was her wife. They had shared the most intimate moments.

She closed her eyes, imagining…

She quickly opened her eyes, a cold sweat breaking out on her back.

What am I thinking? I can’t just… imagine things with other people…

She mentally apologized to the Empress.

These thoughts were dangerous.

“What’s wrong?” Lou Mi asked. “The cartoon started. Are you watching?”

“Yes…”

They watched the cartoon, sitting side by side, the city lights blurring past the car window.

Both of them, unfamiliar with the Frozen franchise, gradually realized something was… off.

The two female leads seemed very… close.

And they were sisters…

Lou Mi, her calm facade masking her inner turmoil, thought, Wait a minute… is this what Frozen is about? This cartoon is thirty years old! Did they have lesbian subtext back then?!

The two sisters held hands, gazing into each other’s eyes.

Chi Lin: “…”

Lou Mi buried her face in her hands. I’m innocent! I didn’t choose this cartoon on purpose!

Fifteen minutes had never felt so long.

She couldn’t turn it off. That would seem even more suspicious.

This is my life now… I must be a math problem in my past life.

They finally reached the National Museum.

They got out of the car in silence, Chi Lin following Lou Mi towards the imposing building.

The museum had free admission, and its numerous exhibition halls were filled with visitors.

It was a popular destination, regardless of the day of the week.

Their reservation allowed them to bypass the long lines. Chi Lin, her mind now focused on the museum, had forgotten about the awkward cartoon.

She saw the large banner announcing the special exhibition.

But…

It was a National Day exhibition, showcasing the country’s achievements over the past ninety years.

The entire museum was filled with patriotic displays.

Chi Lin, hoping to find traces of Dayuan: “…”

.

“I shouldn’t have agreed to this,” Wei Zhuoning complained, gesturing at the red banners and displays. “This is so… serious!”

Lin Xiaozhi hadn’t checked the museum’s schedule before inviting her. She had chosen the National Museum for its… respectability, hoping to lull Wei Zhuoning into a false sense of security.

Once she had Wei Zhuoning alone, anything was possible.

And the museum was large enough to spend an entire afternoon exploring, with plenty of cafes and quiet corners for… conversation.

Or other activities, if Wei Zhuoning was so inclined.

Her carefully laid plans, however, were crumbling. Wei Zhuoning clearly wasn’t impressed.

“What’s wrong with being serious?” Lin Xiaozhi asked, trying to salvage the situation. “You kids these days lack patriotic spirit. Come on, let’s go inside.”

“…You sound like my grandma,” Wei Zhuoning muttered.

“I’m eighteen. A legal adult. I can drink alcohol. Can you?”

Wei Zhuoning, still three months shy of eighteen, remained silent.

“Let’s go,” Lin Xiaozhi said, extending her hand. “I’ll hold your hand so you don’t get lost.”

Wei Zhuoning looked at her slender hand, adorned with a sparkling ring, and hesitated.

Even in her school uniform, Lin Xiaozhi looked more mature than her peers. Today, in her stylish apricot-colored trench coat, cinched at the waist, accentuating her slender figure, her long legs visible beneath the hem, she looked even more sophisticated.

And she was wearing makeup and high heels…

Next to Lin Xiaozhi’s glamorous appearance, Wei Zhuoning, in her hoodie, jeans, and sneakers, looked like a child.

No one would question their age difference.

Seeing Wei Zhuoning’s hesitation, Lin Xiaozhi took her hand.

“Let’s go.”

She smiled to herself, enjoying the feeling of holding Wei Zhuoning’s hand, the younger girl trailing behind her like a shy child.

“Why are you so shy? We’ve hugged before. What’s the big deal about holding hands?”

“Someone might see us,” Wei Zhuoning mumbled.

“Who do you know that comes to the National Museum?” Lin Xiaozhi chuckled. “I chose this location strategically.”

As if on cue, they saw a familiar face.

“Isn’t that Chi Lin?” Wei Zhuoning asked.

Lin Xiaozhi’s heart sank.

“It is her. Who’s that with her?”

“Is that her sister? I only saw her in the car before. She’s tall… and has a nice figure…”

Lou Mi was wearing sunglasses and a jacket zipped up to her chin, partially obscuring her face.

Lin Xiaozhi, annoyed by Wei Zhuoning’s admiration for another woman, said, “You can’t even see her face. How can you tell?”

Wei Zhuoning, ignoring her, waved at Chi Lin.

Lin Xiaozhi: “…”

A double date? Seriously?

Lou Mi shared her concern.

Chi Lin: “Hey, it’s my classmates.”

Lou Mi: “What a coincidence…”

In a museum this large, with so many visitors, they had still managed to run into each other?

As the two groups were about to meet, Lin Xiaozhi tightened her grip on Wei Zhuoning’s hand.

“Are you crazy? They’re on a date. Don’t interrupt them.”

Wei Zhuoning, about to protest, realized she was right.

“Let’s go,” Lin Xiaozhi said, waving at Chi Lin and pulling Wei Zhuoning away.

Chi Lin: “Why did they leave?”

Lou Mi, though not recognizing them, had exchanged a look with Lin Xiaozhi, understanding their mutual desire for privacy.

Chi Lin hadn’t waved back, but Lou Mi had, as if they were close friends.

“They’re on a date,” Lou Mi explained. “They don’t want us to be third wheels.”

Wei Zhuoning and Lin Xiaozhi? Chi Lin had assumed they were just classmates, one a casual acquaintance, the other her deskmate. She hadn’t realized their… special relationship.

No wonder the Empress had often said she was intelligent in every aspect except romance.

“Xiao Lin is clueless when it comes to love.”

“Kids these days start dating early,” Lou Mi said, a hint of envy in her voice. She was in her twenties and still being teased about her nonexistent love life.

She knew Xie Buyu and the others meant well, but she also longed for a relationship.

But the right person hadn’t appeared yet.

Chi Lin: “They used to be deskmates.”

“So it’s a case of ‘familiarity breeds love.’”

“They went to the same junior high school.”

“Junior high?” Lou Mi was shocked. She had only been interested in video games and anime in junior high.

Chi Lin: “One of them is my current deskmate.”

Lou Mi: “Which one?”

“The taller one.”

So it was the glamorous one, the one who looked even more dangerous than the shady girl from the library.

That girl had been openly shady, easy to defend against.

This one, however, preyed on her deskmates, her sweet and innocent appearance masking her manipulative nature.

And she was a high school student, much younger than Chi Lin…

The danger level was high.

Lou Mi, unconsciously comparing herself to Lin Xiaozhi, said, “Stay away from your deskmate.”

Chi Lin: “?”