Category: Can We Get Married First? 

Chapter 60

A party at Chi Lin’s house meant a party at Lou Mi’s house, a privilege the students of Class 6 had never imagined.

A costume party? They were ready to transform!

They eagerly planned their costumes.

Chi Lin counted the confirmed attendees: twenty-five.

“Isn’t that a bit… much?” she asked Lou Mi, worried.

“Not at all,” Lou Mi replied. “Our house is big. And we have the second floor. And if that’s not enough, I’ll clear out my office. We’ll have plenty of space.”

“No need for that. Your office is… a sacred space. Best not to let outsiders in.”

“Okay, we’ll set up some extra chairs and beanbags in the living room. And some floor cushions. Plenty of seating.”

Chi Lin surveyed the living room, assessing the available space.

“Oh, and I have something to show you,” Lou Mi said, retrieving a large black bag from her study. It was labeled “Outdoor Greenhouse.”

“It’s a self-heating tent. About the size of a small bedroom. Fits ten people comfortably. And it’s warm. Perfect for winter. We can set it up in the courtyard and decorate it. Like a secret hideout.”

“Such a wondrous artifact,” Chi Lin murmured, impressed.

“Have you noticed your… accent is a bit… archaic?” Lou Mi asked.

Chi Lin had noticed, but since her family didn’t seem to mind, she hadn’t bothered to correct it.

“It’s from studying classical Chinese,” she replied.

“Blaming your textbooks now?”

“Have you chosen my costume yet?” Chi Lin asked, changing the subject.

“Not yet. We just decided on this… mutual costume selection thing. Have you chosen mine?” Lou Mi asked, seeing Chi Lin’s eager expression.

“Yes,” Chi Lin replied.

“So eager?”

“Just… efficient.”

“…Always finding a way to insult me. What a charming personality.”

Lou Mi wasn’t actually surprised by Chi Lin’s preparedness.

Chi Lin, who usually exuded an aura of… museum antiquity, suddenly suggesting a costume party was like seeing a statue come to life.

And her recent academic achievements, scoring a 146 on the English exam, the highest in the class, even bringing down Ms. Hu… she was on a roll.

Lou Mi would have given her anything she wanted, even a piece of the moon.

She told her parents about the party.

Lou Lixing readily agreed, promising to disappear and let them have the house to themselves.

Peng Ziyuan wanted to stay and meet Chi Lin’s friends, but she remembered her own teenage awkwardness around adults.

To ensure her daughter’s first party was a success, she reluctantly agreed to leave.

She had one small request.

“Mimi, can you record some videos for me? Just a few minutes. I want to see what Xiao Lin’s costume looks like, and… how she interacts with her friends.”

Lou Mi almost teared up.

“Auntie, you should stay. Kids these days aren’t shy around adults.”

“No, no, we’ll leave. But remember, Mimi, the videos.”

Lou Mi: “…I’ll try.”

Filming a party felt a bit… creepy.

Lou Lixing and Peng Ziyuan helped them decorate the house, stringing up fairy lights and setting up a projector with various party themes, including snowstorms, auroras, 1980s disco, and outer space rave.

They stocked the house with snacks and drinks, even ordering a variety of cupcakes from the system’s menu.

Everything was ready.

On the day of the party, the parents disappeared early.

“Where are Dad and Mom?” Chi Lin asked, surprised.

“They didn’t want to cramp our style,” Lou Mi replied.

“They didn’t have to leave.”

“I told them that, but they insisted. They’re probably going on another… date. Oh, and your mom gave me a… task.”

Lou Mi pulled out her phone, pointing it at Chi Lin.

Chi Lin, her face tense and wary, stared at the camera, her usual composure gone.

“What are you doing…?”

Lou Mi enjoyed seeing her flustered, her usual calm demeanor replaced by a surprising awkwardness.

“Your mom wants me to film you.”

“Film me… why?”

Chi Lin, always uncomfortable in front of a camera, averted her gaze, her words slightly slurred.

“Just… to see. Your mom is obsessed with you. I’m just following orders. Bear with it.”

Lou Mi followed Chi Lin around the house, filming her every move.

When Chi Lin retreated to her room, Lou Mi tried to follow, but Chi Lin blocked her path.

“What are you doing?”

“Filming you.”

“I’m changing.”

“Changing now? The party isn’t for another two hours.”

“I want to change now.”

“So eager… okay, I’ll get your costume.”

As Lou Mi turned, Chi Lin snatched her phone.

Lou Mi: “I’m getting used to your… forceful methods. Go ahead, bully me.”

Chi Lin: “…I’m not bullying you. I’m just… keeping your phone safe.”

Lou Mi, seeing the faint blush on Chi Lin’s cheeks, knew she had won this round.

“With your martial arts skills, you bully me all the time. Do you really think I would willingly give you my phone?”

Lou Mi leaned against the doorframe, smiling, and Chi Lin, mesmerized by her playful demeanor, felt a strange sense of déjà vu.

She had never met Lou Mi before arriving in this era.

She searched her memories, then remembered a similar scene with the Empress, who had been obsessed with painting Chi Lin’s portrait.

Chi Lin hadn’t been uncooperative.

But the Empress’s artistic ambitions had escalated, and she had proposed a rather… unconventional idea.

Chi Lin, clutching her clothes, had shaken her head.

“Your Majesty, this is… inappropriate. I cannot agree.”

“Inappropriate? We’ve done far more inappropriate things. It’s just a painting.”

The Empress had accused Chi Lin of having impure thoughts, of tainting art.

“I’m simply trying to capture your beauty. You’re my muse, not a… plaything. Your mind is filthy.”

Chi Lin, amused by the accusation, had bowed and said, “Your Majesty’s talent for twisting words is unmatched.”

Then, as the Empress, pleased with herself, continued her teasing, Chi Lin had swiftly knocked the paintbrush from her hand, sending it flying into a nearby pond.

The Empress: “…”

Chi Lin: “Oops, my hand slipped. I just wanted to hold Your Majesty’s hand.”

The Empress: “I have more paintbrushes.”

Chi Lin, feigning dizziness, said, “Your Majesty, I feel faint. Perhaps we should rest.”

The Empress: “You seemed perfectly fine when you knocked my paintbrush into the pond.”

Chi Lin: “Your Majesty misjudges me.”

The Empress, leaning against a willow tree, the sunlight dappling her face, her eyes twinkling, had said, “You always bully me with your martial arts skills. Let’s see how you fare in my domain.”

…

It was the same scene, a cherished memory with the Empress.

Chi Lin’s eyes welled up, the Empress’s image vivid in her mind.

“Chi Lin,” Lou Mi said, seeing her dazed expression. “I was just kidding. You’re not… angry, are you?”

The Empress had also teased her relentlessly.

But whenever Chi Lin took her jokes seriously, the Empress would always apologize and shower her with affection.

Your Majesty…

Chi Lin reached out to touch Lou Mi’s hand.

As her fingertips brushed against Lou Mi’s skin, she stopped, her hand hovering in mid-air.

Lou Mi: “?”

Chi Lin, pulling herself back from the memory, forcing a smile, said, “Do you want to… try on the costume I chose for you?”

“Sure,” Lou Mi replied.

Chi Lin retrieved a black leather jacket and pants, and a stretchy, low-cut tank top.

Lou Mi held the tank top against her body, looking at Chi Lin, confused.

“What kind of costume is this? Isn’t the neckline a bit… low?”

“You’ll be wearing the jacket over it. And I’ll dye your hair blonde and tie it up. And you’ll carry a hammer. It’s a character from a mobile game.”

Chi Lin had chosen the costume carefully, a strategic choice.

She would have Lou Mi try on the tank top first, checking for the birthmark, then quickly cover her up with the jacket, ensuring no one else saw her.

Lou Mi, seeing Chi Lin’s eager expression, felt a flicker of embarrassment.

Why is she choosing such a… revealing outfit for me?

Is she… interested in my body?

She looked at Chi Lin sideways. “You really want me to wear this?”

“Yes,” Chi Lin replied, her impatience growing.

“Okay, come here.”

Chi Lin, thinking Lou Mi needed help changing, approached her. Lou Mi grabbed her hand, spun her around, and pushed her out of the room.

Chi Lin: “?”

Lou Mi closed the door, locking it.

Chi Lin: “…”

“I’ll show you when I’m done. Go try on the costume I chose for you. It’s on the sofa in my room. The door is unlocked.”

“But I can help you!”

“I can dress myself,” Lou Mi said, certain now of Chi Lin’s intentions.

She smiled to herself.

“You little pervert. Trying to sneak a peek. Didn’t we agree to forget about everything? Or do you want to take responsibility now?”

Chi Lin, realizing the potential awkwardness of the situation, said, “I’ll go try on my costume then…”

“Go ahead,” Lou Mi said, still smiling.

Chapter 59

Preparations?

What preparations?

Could Chi Lin be monitoring the grading system?

Impossible…

But these kids were full of surprises, and Chi Lin was particularly… unpredictable. What if she had proof?

Ms. Hu, replaying the day’s events in her mind, couldn’t sleep.

Lu Ke called her, his voice filled with anxiety.

“Ms. Hu, what’s going on with Chi Lin’s score? She seemed so confident. Did you really change it? Tampering with student grades is a serious offense.”

You think I don’t know that?

Ms. Hu hung up without answering.

If not for his stupid bet, she wouldn’t be in this mess.

She regretted getting involved in their childish games.

And Lu Ke, usually so reliable, had choked during the exam!

She couldn’t understand Chi Lin’s sudden improvement, but it was definitely… suspicious.

No one would believe a failing student could suddenly become the top student.

Even if she revealed the truth, no one would believe Chi Lin could get a 146.

They won’t suspect me, she reassured herself.

Winter break had started, but the tutoring centers wouldn’t open for another week, so the students, freed from the pressures of school, were enjoying their temporary freedom.

Wei Zhuoning, Chi Lin, and Lin Xiaozhi had arranged to meet at the mall, starting with coffee at a cafe.

Wei Zhuoning, preoccupied with Chi Lin’s bet, had been losing sleep and even weight, her anxiety growing with each passing day.

She had expected Chi Lin and Lin Xiaozhi to share her concern, but they both arrived looking cheerful and relaxed, their outfits stylish, their moods light.

Are they that heartless?

“Hey,” Wei Zhuoning interrupted their conversation. “Aren’t you two… worried?”

“Worried about what?” Lin Xiaozhi asked.

Wei Zhuoning pointed at Chi Lin. “The English exam!”

Lin Xiaozhi, taking a bite of her waffle, offered it to Wei Zhuoning.

“With us here, there’s nothing to worry about. Here, open wide.”

Wei Zhuoning, glancing at Chi Lin, said, “I can feed myself.”

Chi Lin, used to their antics, said, “Just… ignore them. Pretend they’re not here.”

“What do you mean, ‘ignore them’?” Lin Xiaozhi asked. “Don’t you and Lou Mi do this at home?”

Chi Lin: “…Of course not.”

“You’re not progressing fast enough,” Lin Xiaozhi teased.

Chi Lin: “…”

“Anyway, send me your AirPoint code. I have something for you.”

“AirPoint?”

“Yeah, for file sharing. Give me your phone.”

Lin Xiaozhi showed her how to use AirPoint and sent her a file.

Chi Lin’s eyes lit up as she read it. “You actually found it! Thank you!”

“You’re welcome,” Lin Xiaozhi said, winking. “A New Year’s gift.”

Wei Zhuoning, watching their exchange, feeling excluded from their inside jokes and secret gifts, sulked, devouring her waffle in silence.

A New Year’s gift? She asked for it earlier?

We’ve been friends for years, and you stole my first kiss, and I’ve never gotten a gift from you…

“Someone’s hungry,” Lin Xiaozhi said, noticing her empty plate. “Want another one?”

“No,” Wei Zhuoning said firmly. “I’m full.”

Full of resentment.

Lin Xiaozhi shrugged and continued her conversation with Chi Lin, ignoring Wei Zhuoning.

Wei Zhuoning: “…”

“Look at this,” Chi Lin said, projecting a video onto the table.

The video wasn’t very clear, but it captured the entire exam, including Chi Lin completing the test and submitting it.

“Is that… you taking the English exam?” Wei Zhuoning asked.

“Yes,” Chi Lin replied.

“So that’s what you meant by ‘preparations,’” Lin Xiaozhi said. “I thought you were talking about the… other thing I was investigating.”

“That’s also important, but it’s… secondary. Proving my real score is the first step.”

“How did you record this?” Wei Zhuoning asked.

Chi Lin pointed at her eye. “I borrowed a contact lens camera from my sister.”

“I think I saw those advertised… Wait, you anticipated Ms. Hu changing your score?”

“Not exactly anticipated, but I had to be prepared.”

“You’re so smart, A Lin,” Wei Zhuoning said, admiringly.

She felt a pang of guilt for having called Chi Lin an idiot before.

Lin Xiaozhi, glancing at her, thought, I’ve been tutoring you for weeks, your grades have improved, and you’ve never called me smart. And you call her “A Lin”? You’ve never called me “Xiao Zhi.”

“What was that other file?” Wei Zhuoning asked, curious.

Chi Lin showed her. It was a collection of bank statements and receipts.

Wei Zhuoning: “??”

Lin Xiaozhi explained, “It’s proof that Ms. Hu has been illegally tutoring students and selling exam questions. If this gets out, even her brother-in-law won’t be able to save her.”

“You… investigated her?”

“Of course,” Lin Xiaozhi replied.

“How?”

“I have my ways.”

Money talks, Wei Zhuoning thought. The daughter of privilege had resources.

“Wait, let me just… write this down,” she said, pulling out her phone. “Do you mind if I use this in my novel?”

Chi Lin: “…No, I don’t mind.”

“Make me a glamorous, powerful character,” Lin Xiaozhi said.

Wei Zhuoning: “…”

Lin Xiaozhi, stirring her coffee, asked Chi Lin, “Do you think Ms. Hu will confess?”

“Not without some… encouragement,” Chi Lin replied, her expression suggesting a plan.

“Encouragement?” Lin Xiaozhi, seeing her mischievous glint, knew what was coming. “Tell me everything!”

“Wait,” Wei Zhuoning said. “I need to take notes.”

Chi Lin: “Should I just… record it?”

Wei Zhuoning: “Holy shit, that’s a great idea!”

Lin Xiaozhi: “Language!”

.

Ms. Hu had another sleepless night, her head pounding.

She woke up feeling groggy. Her mother knocked on her door, saying she had a package.

“A package? For me? I didn’t order anything,” she said, confused.

“It has your name on it,” her mother said. “Cash on delivery.”

“What?” Ms. Hu opened the package, her eyes widening. “Did you pay for it?”

“Of course.”

“Don’t just accept random COD packages! It could be a scam!”

Ms. Hu pulled out a folder, her blood running cold.

It was… her bank statements, and copies of her tutoring materials, with her handwritten notes.

She panicked. Who had sent this? How did they get this information?

She immediately thought of Chi Lin.

It has to be her!

Besides the tutoring materials, there were also screenshots from a video, showing Chi Lin taking the English exam, her name and class clearly displayed on the tablet.

Chi Lin had recorded the entire exam…

How…?

Ms. Hu had been watching her closely during the exam, and she hadn’t seen Chi Lin using any recording devices.

How had she done it…?

You have three days, Ms. Hu. If you don’t restore my original score, I won’t be the one leaving this school. It will be you.

Ms. Hu had initially dismissed Chi Lin’s threat as an empty boast.

How could a student force a teacher to leave?

Now, she understood.

She understood the rumors about Chi Lin’s… unusual abilities.

This girl was dangerous.

.

Lu Ke continued messaging and calling Ms. Hu, but there was no response.

Worried, he went to her house with Chong Zhiwen.

Ms. Hu’s mother answered the door.

“You’re Xinying’s students, right? Xiao Lu?” she asked.

“Yes,” Lu Ke replied. “Is Ms. Hu home?”

“She asked me to give you this,” she said, handing him a USB drive.

Lu Ke, confused, took the drive.

“Where’s Ms. Hu? We want to see her,” Chong Zhiwen said.

Ms. Hu’s mother shook her head and closed the door.

“What is this?” Lu Ke asked, plugging the drive into his phone.

It contained a single video file.

It was Ms. Hu, apologizing to Lou Mi.

Chong Zhiwen: “What the hell?!”

Lu Ke: “Why is she apologizing? I scored higher than Chi Lin! This makes no sense!”

“Has she lost her mind?”

Lu Ke, furious, continued banging on the door until Ms. Hu’s mother called the police.

He couldn’t understand Ms. Hu’s behavior.

Two days later, when the final exam scores were officially released and shared with the parents, Lu Ke saw Chi Lin’s revised English score:

146.

A sixty-point increase?!

Why had her score been changed?

He bombarded Ms. Hu with messages and calls, but she still didn’t respond.

Three days later, Ms. Hu’s apology video appeared on the school forum, posted anonymously, but clearly her own voice and words.

“As a teacher, I realize I’ve made a mistake. I shouldn’t have said those hurtful things. I apologize to Chi Lin and HighTowerMiyuki…”

Comments:

“What did Chi Lin get on the exam? I heard Lu Ke is really good at English.”

“One hundred and forty-six. Highest in Class 6, top 5 in the grade.”

“How did she improve so much in just a month? Did she cheat?”

“Shut up, you idiot. The entire class can vouch for her. She studied hard.”

“We all hate HXY. We studied with Chi Lin every night, even on weekends. She improved because she’s smart and hardworking. Get it?”

…

Class 6 had never been so united. Even Ms. Qi, using an anonymous account, defended Chi Lin against the cheating accusations.

Then, someone posted about Ms. Hu’s illegal tutoring and selling of exam questions.

“Anyone surprised? She’s been doing this for years.”

“Do you have proof?”

“Not posting it here, but the school can easily find out.”

Chi Lin and her friends discussed the anonymous post in their group chat.

Lin Xiaozhi: “It doesn’t matter who posted it. She’s made a lot of enemies. This is just… karma.”

Wei Zhuoning: “It wasn’t you?”

Lin Xiaozhi: “…Do you really think I have that much free time?”

The grade level director held a meeting with all the homeroom teachers and department heads, discussing the significant improvement in Class 6’s English scores.

“What happened?” he asked. “Such a dramatic increase.”

Ms. Qi, not mentioning the bet, said, “Chi Lin organized study sessions for the entire class. They studied together every night, even on weekends.”

“Chi Lin… I remember her,” the director said. “She’s quite… memorable.”

Of course, she is, Ms. Qi thought. She’s caused so much trouble. Chi Lin was famous throughout the school.

The director paused, then said, “What’s wrong with Hu Xinying? Class 6’s grades haven’t improved at all after a year with her. And Class 7 too, always last place. And this sudden improvement in Class 6’s English scores… it’s because of that bet, right? They were trying to prove her wrong.”

So he knows, Ms. Qi thought. She didn’t have to report Ms. Hu’s incompetence.

“Hu Xinying isn’t working out,” the director said, shaking his head. “Lao Lu wanted to promote her to eleventh grade, to teach the advanced classes, but… I don’t think so. I won’t approve it.”

Lao Lu was Ms. Hu’s brother-in-law, the eleventh-grade director.

“What will you do with her?” Ms. Qi asked.

“Transfer her to ninth grade,” the director said. “I don’t want her in my grade anymore.”

…

The news of Ms. Hu’s demotion spread like wildfire through the Class 6 group chat, even before the official announcement.

As they celebrated with emojis and red envelopes, they noticed Lu Ke and Chong Zhiwen had left the group.

Gao Xiang: “Sore losers.”

“They ran away before even posting the apology video. Cowards.”

“Don’t let them back in next semester.”

“Let them suffer in ninth grade with Ms. Hu.”

“Chi Lin deserves all the credit for getting rid of that witch! Chi Lin! @Chi Lin! Where are you?!”

They called out to Chi Lin, but she didn’t appear.

“She never talks in the group chat.”

“Did she mute us?!”

“We’re so pathetic!”

As they lamented their abandonment, Chi Lin suddenly appeared, not just appearing, but bearing gifts.

“Red envelope! Grab it!”

Chi Lin, with Lou Mi’s help, had just sent her first digital red envelope. It was claimed instantly.

Lou Mi, watching over her shoulder, said, “Your classmates’ reflexes…”

Wei Zhuoning, checking the group chat, instinctively clicked the red envelope and gasped, seeing the amount: over 50 yuan!

Mom! We can afford meat tonight!

Chi Lin sent a message to the group: “Thank you for helping me with my studies. Party at my house on Wednesday at 5 pm. Barbecue and drinks. Costume party theme.”

A dozen students immediately replied with enthusiastic confirmations.

Gao Xiang: “Sister Lou! I’m coming!”

Chi Lin, looking at their excited messages, turned to Lou Mi, a worried expression on her face.

“Is this… okay?”

“Of course, it’s okay. Parties are more fun with more people. I’ll ask Xie Buyu and the others too. A little pre-World Cup celebration.” Lou Mi stretched. “And your mom will be thrilled. It’s your first time inviting friends over.”

Chi Lin just hoped Peng Ziyuan wouldn’t embarrass her in front of her classmates.

“Sister,” she said, “let’s play a game.”

“What kind of game?”

“We choose each other’s costumes for the party. Deal?”

Chapter 58

The three days after the final exams were designated as school return days.

Grades were released, and winter break homework assigned. Official supplementary classes during breaks were now banned, leaving students to seek outside tutoring.

With the pressure of the upcoming college entrance exams, tutoring centers were already fully booked.

Usually, students spent these days discussing tutoring schedules and making plans for winter break.

But Class 6 was unusually quiet and serious.

The results of the bet between Chi Lin, Lu Ke, and Ms. Hu would be revealed soon.

“What do you think you’ll get?” Lin Xiaozhi asked Chi Lin. “Over 140?”

Having tutored Chi Lin, she was confident in her progress. The exam had covered familiar material.

“At least 145,” Chi Lin replied.

“Then you’ll have the highest score in the class. I think I’m a few points shy of 145.”

Chi Lin smiled faintly, her mind seemingly elsewhere.

At 9 am, the grades were released.

Chi Lin looked at her score, her expression unreadable.

Lin Xiaozhi, noticing her unusual calmness, glanced at her tablet, her brow furrowing.

“How is that possible?”

The other students, eager to know Chi Lin’s score, crowded around her.

Chi Lin closed her tablet and shook her head, silencing them.

Lu Ke had also received his score. Chong Zhiwen, glancing at it, saw 136.

“What happened?” he asked Lu Ke. “I got a 130.”

“Shut up,” Lu Ke muttered. “Everyone has bad days. A 136 is still a high score. More than enough to crush that loser.”

They looked at Chi Lin, who remained impassive, clearly having seen her score, but her expression revealed nothing.

Wei Zhuoning, her heart pounding, opened her grade report.

The first thing she saw was her class ranking:

43rd.

She blinked, then checked again. It was real!

Mom! I’m not last anymore!

Despite Lin Xiaozhi’s annoying flirting, her tutoring had been effective. Wei Zhuoning had not only kept her promotional spot on the writing website but also improved her grades.

She called out to Chi Lin, wanting to know her score, but Lin Xiaozhi, turning around, put a finger to her lips, silencing her.

Wei Zhuoning: “?”

What was going on? Even she had passed, thanks to Lin Xiaozhi’s tutoring. Chi Lin, much smarter and a quick study, couldn’t have failed.

The school return days followed a set schedule: teachers summarizing the semester, reviewing exam results, praising those who had improved, scolding those who hadn’t, and assigning winter break homework.

Mr. Xia, the Chinese teacher, started, lamenting Class 6’s second-to-last ranking in Chinese, a slight improvement, but still far behind the other classes.

Ms. Hu arrived next, her face grim.

“Class 6, average score: 96,” she said, her tone almost… resentful. “Highest among the regular classes.”

The class, initially surprised, erupted in cheers.

If textbooks were still made of paper, the ceiling would have been covered in them.

“Quiet! Quiet!” Ms. Hu shouted, finally silencing them. “What’s so impressive about a single victory? You should be aiming for consistent excellence!”

Gao Xiang scoffed. “Why can’t we celebrate a victory?”

“Look at your other subjects. Still at the bottom. You’re giving your homeroom teacher gray hairs. Show some respect.”

Lin Xiaozhi said, “Ms. Hu, everyone improves gradually. We should celebrate our achievements, no matter how small. And this victory is a reflection of your teaching skills too.”

Ms. Hu knew she was no match for the sharp-tongued class president. Lin Xiaozhi was always stirring up trouble.

Ms. Hu continued her rambling lecture, avoiding the topic of individual scores, much to Lu Ke’s annoyance.

He raised his hand. “Ms. Hu, can we please see our scores? We have a bet to settle.”

He looked at Chi Lin. “Chi Lin, what did you get? I only got a 136. You probably beat me.”

Lu Ke, despite his anxiety during the exam, had still managed a high score. The difficulty of the exam was evident in the class average of 96.

Chi Lin didn’t answer. Lu Ke, his confidence growing, turned to Ms. Hu.

“Ms. Hu, you have the scores, right? What did Chi Lin get?”

Ms. Hu, glancing at Lu Ke and her tablet, hesitated, then said, “Eighty-six.”

The class erupted in disbelief.

“What?!”

“Impossible!” Gao Xiang exclaimed, jumping out of his seat. “I got a 95! How could Chi Lin only get an 86?! We reviewed all the difficult points! Even Lin Xiaozhi explained everything!”

Sha Xinyu also protested. “Chi Lin is a faster learner than any of us! Ms. Hu, are you sure you’re looking at the right score?”

Ms. Hu, annoyed by their accusations, her own anxiety turning into anger, said, “I’m not mistaken! Come see for yourself! Or ask Chi Lin to show you her score!”

Sha Xinyu turned to Chi Lin. “Is it true, Chi Lin?”

The entire class waited for her answer.

“The system shows an 86,” Chi Lin said. “But that’s not my real score.”

“What?!”

Lu Ke almost laughed. “Whose score is it then? Yours? You’re just like your sister, making excuses after losing a bet! You should have thought about this before accepting the bet!”

“Say that again about Lou-jie, I dare you!” Gao Xiang yelled, kicking his desk and lunging at Lu Ke.

“She’s a sore loser! What are you going to do about it?”

Gao Xiang’s friends restrained him.

“Calm down!” Sha Xinyu said. “Don’t start a fight!”

Lu Ke, seeing Gao Xiang restrained, took advantage of the situation and punched him in the face.

Gao Xiang watched as Lu Ke’s fist approached, then suddenly… vanished.

Gao Xiang: “?”

Lu Ke, filled with a long-simmering resentment towards all of Lou Mi’s fans, had put all his strength into that punch.

But a force had redirected his fist mid-swing, sending him stumbling forward, his face landing in a nearby trash can.

The class: “…”

“Chi Lin! How dare you hit him!” Ms. Hu exclaimed.

It had been Chi Lin, her movements too fast for anyone to see, who had deflected Lu Ke’s punch.

“Ms. Hu, you’re mistaken,” Chi Lin said, pointing at the newly repaired security camera. “It’s all recorded.”

Ms. Hu felt a chill run down her spine.

The cameras were recording during exams. And these were modern, AI-powered cameras with facial recognition technology. Had they captured the content of Chi Lin’s exam paper?

If so, her manipulation of the scores would be exposed.

She noticed Chi Lin observing her closely, her expression unreadable.

No, it’s impossible. The cameras can’t see the exam papers. That would be a security risk. Students could cheat by hacking the system.

They can’t see the papers. I’m safe.

She took a deep breath, her anxiety slightly abated.

“Regardless of what the cameras recorded,” she said, “I saw who started the fight. Lu Ke, are you okay?”

Lu Ke, his head still ringing from his collision with the trash can, his pride bruised, couldn’t speak.

He was too embarrassed to blame anyone.

“I’m… fine…” he mumbled.

Ms. Hu, seizing the opportunity, declared, “So Lu Ke won the bet. Chi Lin, you know what to do.”

She avoided looking at Chi Lin, eager to end this unpleasant situation.

Chi Lin, however, walked towards her and asked, “Ms. Hu, are you sure I got an 86?”

“Of course,” Ms. Hu replied. “It’s in the system. Whose score would it be otherwise?”

“I estimated over 145.”

“One hundred and forty-five…” Ms. Hu chuckled. “Your estimation skills are… questionable. Do you even know what a 145 means? That would be the highest score in the class, even top 5 in the grade. Be realistic. You’ve never even scored a 100 before.”

“So you still believe people can’t improve,” Chi Lin said, her voice calm, then made a simple request. “I want to see my exam paper.”

“You’ll get it back next semester. But by then, you’ll be… gone,” Ms. Hu said, a smug smile on her face.

“I want to see it now,” Chi Lin insisted.

“We don’t return exam papers until next semester. Why make an exception for you?”

Chong Zhiwen, defending Ms. Hu, said, “Are you accusing Ms. Hu of tampering with your exam? Don’t be ridiculous.”

Ms. Hu glared at him. Shut up, you idiot!

Chi Lin, unfazed, continued her relentless questioning.

“If there’s nothing wrong with my exam, why can’t I see it?”

“It’s not that I can’t show it to you. I’m not allowed to,” Ms. Hu said, emphasizing the distinction.

Lin Xiaozhi said, “It’s just a graded exam paper, not a state secret. Why can’t she see it?”

Ms. Hu, exasperated, said, “The exam papers are graded and verified by the system. Do you think the system can make mistakes? Do you think it deliberately lowered your score?!”

“The system might not make mistakes,” Chi Lin said, her voice soft, but her words sharp, “but people can manipulate the system.”

Lu Ke, having recovered from his trash can encounter, approached Chi Lin, keeping a safe distance, mindful of her… reputation.

“Are you accusing Ms. Hu of changing your score?” he asked. “Do you really think you’re better than me? A 145? Seriously?”

Chi Lin ignored him, her gaze fixed on Ms. Hu.

“I anticipated this,” she said, smiling faintly. “So I made… preparations.”

Ms. Hu’s heart sank.

Chi Lin’s expression turned cold, her eyes like ice.

“You have three days, Ms. Hu. If you don’t restore my original score, I won’t be the one leaving this school. It will be you.”

Chapter 57

“Sister, who is A Bao?”

Chi Lin’s question caught Lou Mi off guard.

“Where did you hear that name?” she asked. “How do you know about her?”

A Bao, a former Nine Heavens teammate and a three-time MVP support player in “Return to Jianghu,” was almost as famous as Lou Mi.

But Chi Lin had never shown any interest in esports before.

There had to be a reason she was asking about A Bao now.

“The person I made the bet with is a fan of hers,” Chi Lin explained.

Lou Mi understood.

So that’s why the stakes were so high. It was a deliberate provocation from A Bao’s fans.

She hesitated, then said, “A Bao was my former teammate, our support player. She and another teammate left the team earlier this year.”

“Did you have a… falling out?”

“It’s complicated.”

She and A Bao had had a major falling out, resulting in the loss of several rare and valuable in-game items.

She hadn’t told anyone about it, finding it humiliating.

But she felt comfortable sharing it with Chi Lin.

Chi Lin never judged her, her support always genuine and unwavering.

She was the kind of person you could confide in, knowing she would listen without judgment or gossip.

Lou Mi trusted her.

She recounted the incident.

It had started with A Bao’s unexpected confession during a livestream.

A Bao, whom Lou Mi had trained and mentored, had apparently developed feelings for her, her admiration turning into… something more.

Lou Mi, focused on her career, hadn’t noticed.

They were a powerful duo, conquering every dungeon in the game, A Bao’s skillful support allowing Lou Mi to shine.

Their fans had started shipping them, their CP (coupling/pairing) becoming increasingly popular.

Esports was a popular industry, and every player had their fans.

Solo fans and CP fans often clashed, Lou Mi’s solo fans annoyed by the CP fans, and A Bao’s solo fans often stirring up drama.

Lou Mi had heard the rumors, but she hadn’t taken them seriously.

She had CP hashtags with Xie Buyu, Pagoda, and Xiao V as well.

It was just harmless fun.

A Bao’s public confession, however, had been a shock.

Lou Mi had seen her as a teammate, a younger sister, nothing more.

And now, A Bao wanted to… marry her?

During a livestream, with over a million viewers, A Bao had presented her with virtual gifts and a elaborate firework display, waiting for her answer.

The CP fans went wild, flooding the chat with pleas for Lou Mi to accept.

Lou Mi had been furious.

It was emotional blackmail.

If A Bao’s feelings were genuine, why not confess privately, instead of using a public platform, especially during a highly anticipated dungeon raid?

A Bao had clearly chosen the moment strategically, forcing Lou Mi into a corner.

Even if Lou Mi had reciprocated A Bao’s feelings, which she didn’t, this manipulative tactic would have been a deal-breaker.

She had rejected A Bao’s proposal, tossing the virtual gifts into a virtual abyss and declaring, “I, HighTowerMiyuki, will be single forever,” before logging off.

“Single forever…” Chi Lin said. “That sounds like a curse.”

“I was angry,” Lou Mi said, now regretting her dramatic declaration.

She should have cursed A Bao, not herself.

Chi Lin: “And then she stole your equipment?”

“We all shared our account passwords, in case of emergencies during competitions. She knew my password. A few days after the confession, I woke up to a notification about suspicious activity on my account. It had been emptied. Two days later, she sent an email to Lan-jie, terminating her contract. She and Xiao V never came back.”

“Was the equipment valuable?”

“About ten million yuan.”

“Ten million… and you didn’t report it?”

“I considered it, but… she was my teammate, my… disciple. I should have seen it coming. It was a lesson learned. And she couldn’t even use the equipment. It was just a… spiteful act. She probably dismantled it all. It’s not recoverable anyway.”

“And you haven’t spoken to her since?”

“I deleted her contact information and never mentioned her again. But she still talks about me online, claiming I led her on, then rejected her and kicked her out of the club. Like I’m the bad guy.”

Chi Lin: “…”

“So her fans hate me, and my fans hate her. They’re always fighting online. I didn’t think it would… affect you.”

Lou Mi felt guilty about dragging Chi Lin into this.

It wasn’t fair to Chi Lin.

“If not for my… showing off, her fans wouldn’t have targeted you…”

Chi Lin said firmly, “It doesn’t matter. I won’t lose.”

Lou Mi: “…”

Why is she suddenly so fierce?

Chi Lin was indeed angry, wanting to crush Lu Ke and avenge Lou Mi.

Realizing her tone had been harsh, and seeing Lou Mi’s silence, she softened her voice.

“You went to the school for me. It’s not your fault. We’re in this together.”

Lou Mi, her mood lifted by Chi Lin’s words, said, “We’ll face this together.”

“I’ll win the final exam,” Chi Lin said, her resolve strengthened.

She would win, for her own pride, for Lou Mi, to defeat A Bao’s fans, and to have an excuse for a costume party, where she could discreetly examine Lou Mi’s… chest area.

This bet had suddenly become incredibly important.

Lou Mi, seeing Chi Lin’s newfound determination, her fighting spirit ignited by Lou Mi’s story, thought, She must really like me.

.

Peng Ziyuan bought Chi Lin a new phone. Chi Lin thanked her, relieved she didn’t have to choose one herself.

But she missed the data from her old phone.

One evening, during a study session, she mentioned it to Lou Mi, who said, “Check the cloud. It should be backed up automatically.”

“The cloud…” Chi Lin looked up at the ceiling.

“Not the actual cloud! The… digital cloud! On your phone!”

Chi Lin, unsure how to access it, handed her phone to Lou Mi.

“Thank you, Sister.”

“Such a hassle,” Lou Mi muttered, retrieving the data from the cloud. “Just enter your username and password.”

Chi Lin, having no idea what her username or password was: “…”

“Facial recognition works too,” Lou Mi said, unlocking the phone with Chi Lin’s face.

Chi Lin opened the cloud storage and saw her data, all of it.

Her research on Dayuan, the historical records, everything.

Her eyes welled up. “It’s all here… I thought I had lost it all…”

“Why are you crying over… study materials?”

Lou Mi’s question was genuine, then she remembered Peng Ziyuan’s earlier concern about Chi Lin becoming a genius.

She had teased Peng Ziyuan then, but now… she felt a similar concern.

With her data recovered, Chi Lin could focus on her studies.

The “Winter Study Squad” met every day, forty-five minutes during lunch and ninety minutes after school.

Class 6, inspired by Chi Lin’s dedication, embraced a newfound enthusiasm for learning.

Chi Lin spent her weekends, even New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day, studying, Lou Mi tutoring her whenever she had time, often bringing in reinforcements from Nine Heavens, repaying her debts in both time and money.

No one was more aware of Chi Lin’s progress than Lou Mi.

Chi Lin was intelligent and had an excellent memory, memorizing vocabulary words after seeing them only twice.

Initially, she had used phonetic associations, her pronunciation often amusing Lou Mi.

Then, she switched to analyzing word roots, prefixes, and suffixes, her memorization speed increasing dramatically.

Lou Mi would hear her reciting vocabulary before dawn, initially just reciting, then reciting while practicing her martial arts.

The ancient fist forms and modern English, a strange but harmonious combination.

The final exams arrived quickly.

Chi Lin’s face was thinner, but her eyes were brighter, her energy levels high.

The Nine Heavens team, well-fed from Lou Mi’s generous payments, were almost ready for the Winter World Cup.

Lou Mi, looking at their relaxed demeanor, said, “The World Cup is just around the corner! Look at yourselves!”

Xie Buyu, unfazed, said, “You spoiled us, Mi-jie. We’re just enjoying the fruits of your labor.”

Lou Mi: “…”

The day before the exams, Chi Lin asked Lou Mi for something.

“I think I have one. I’ll find it for you. What do you need it for?” Lou Mi asked, curious.

“Just in case,” Chi Lin replied.

The first day of the finals consisted of Chinese and Math. Ms. Qi overheard the math teacher complaining.

“What happened to Chi Lin? I thought she would do better this time, but… barely a 70.”

“Really?” Ms. Qi asked, surprised. “She’s been studying so hard lately. And she’s even been helping her classmates.”

“See for yourself.”

The math teacher showed her Chi Lin’s exam paper. It was filled with… gibberish.

The Chinese teacher also reported a disappointing performance from Chi Lin.

What’s going on? Ms. Qi wondered. She seemed so dedicated.

She couldn’t talk to Chi Lin during the exams, not wanting to distract her.

Wei Zhuoning, however, felt optimistic about her own performance. She had even attempted the most difficult part of the last math problem, following Lin Xiaozhi’s advice to write something, anything, even if it was wrong. Partial credit was better than no credit.

And the Chinese essay topic, “Motherly Love,” had been a gift. As a writer, she had poured her heart into it.

Emerging from the exam room, Lin Xiaozhi, seeing Wei Zhuoning’s cheerful demeanor, knew she had done well.

She was so easy to read.

As they were talking, Chi Lin joined them.

“How did you do?” Lin Xiaozhi asked.

“I didn’t study, so I just… wrote random things,” Chi Lin replied.

“You didn’t study?” Wei Zhuoning asked, surprised.

Lin Xiaozhi, understanding, said, “Good luck tomorrow.”

After Chi Lin left, Wei Zhuoning turned to Lin Xiaozhi. “Is she…?”

Lin Xiaozhi nodded. “It’s just a midterm. It doesn’t matter.”

Chong Zhiwen messaged Lu Ke:

“I just came from the office. Ms. Qi and the others were talking about Chi Lin. She bombed the math and Chinese exams. She’s probably going to fail the humanities too.”

Lu Ke sneered. “So she’s putting all her eggs in the English basket. Does she really think she can beat me? I’ll show her what real talent is.”

The day of the English exam arrived.

Ms. Hu, proctoring the exam, instructed the students to put away all their belongings.

As the exam papers appeared on their tablets, Chi Lin began to write.

Lu Ke, after answering two questions, glanced at Chi Lin.

He couldn’t see her screen, but he could see her writing quickly, then flipping the page.

Trying to look confident, huh? he thought.

He answered two more questions and looked again. Chi Lin was still writing, checking and crossing out answers.

She had already reached the true/false section? That fast?

She must be guessing.

“Eyes on your own papers!” Ms. Hu said, noticing the students looking around. “No cheating!”

Lu Ke returned to his exam.

With thirty minutes left, he heard the sound of a chair scraping against the floor.

Someone had finished early.

Who would finish an exam early, especially a final exam? Weren’t they afraid of being scolded by the teacher?

He looked up and saw Chi Lin leaving the classroom.

Lu Ke: “…”

Chi Lin? Finished already?

He was stunned. Thirty minutes early? What was she playing at?

The exam wasn’t easy. How could she have finished so quickly?

The other students, also witnessing her departure, whispered amongst themselves.

“Quiet!” Ms. Hu shouted, silencing them, then opened the grading system.

After her disastrous performance in Chinese and math, she had finished the English exam thirty minutes early?

Ms. Hu chuckled to herself, opening Chi Lin’s exam paper.

She wanted to see just how badly she had failed.

Lu Ke watched Ms. Hu’s expression, knowing she was looking at Chi Lin’s answers.

Her initial smirk slowly faded, replaced by a look of… disbelief, then panic.

She glanced at the hallway, then at Lu Ke, her eyes wide with fear.

Could it be…?

Lu Ke’s heart pounded. He tried to focus on his exam, but a nagging thought kept intruding.

Did Chi Lin do well?

How well?

Surely not a perfect score…?

…

After the exam, Lin Xiaozhi and Wei Zhuoning found Chi Lin in the cafeteria.

Wei Zhuoning sat down beside her. “You left early. You missed Ms. Hu’s face when she saw your exam!”

“What about it?” Chi Lin asked.

“She looked like she couldn’t believe her eyes! Like she wanted to eat the paper!”

“Did you get a perfect score?” Lin Xiaozhi asked.

Chi Lin shook her head. “Almost.”

“Close enough,” Lin Xiaozhi said.

…

Late that night.

Ms. Hu couldn’t sleep.

The exam results were out. Chi Lin: 146. Lu Ke: 136. He had underperformed.

And Chi Lin had the highest score in the class! Even higher than Lin Xiaozhi!

How… how was that possible?! Had she cheated?!

But she had the highest score. Accusing her of cheating would be ridiculous.

Ms. Hu couldn’t understand it.

But regardless of how she had achieved it, she had indeed beaten Lu Ke.

She had to record an apology video? Apologize to that… Lou Mi? No!

She couldn’t be humiliated by a student!

She opened the grading system on her computer and… switched Chi Lin’s score.

Chapter 56

After their successful raid on the school forum, Xie Buyu, Pagoda, and the other trainees regularly patrolled it, looking for any new signs of trouble.

Any post about Chi Lin, especially those with baseless accusations, was immediately reported by dozens of accounts.

Even Tan Luo, the forum administrator, noticed a group of anonymous users helping her maintain order.

Pagoda, the first to see the post about the bet, wasn’t sure if she should tell Lou Mi. She discussed it with Xie Buyu.

“Are you trying to sabotage Mi-jie’s love life?” Xie Buyu asked. “This is a perfect opportunity!”

“What opportunity?” Pagoda asked, confused. “I don’t see it.”

“Are you blind? Someone insulted Lou Mi, and her little sister defended her, even risking expulsion. That’s not just sisterly love, that’s true love!”

“But what if Mi-jie already knows? She’s probably more aware of this than we are.”

“If she doesn’t know, we’ll tell her. And if she does know, but is too shy to act, we’ll give her an excuse.”

Pagoda’s eyes lit up. “Brilliant!”

“With our help, Mi-jie will finally find love,” Xie Buyu declared.

“How do you know she hasn’t already? That WeChat message sounded pretty… suggestive.”

“Look at her. No new clothes, no new hairstyle, same old WeChat profile picture and signature. Clearly not in a relationship. When you see her wearing a new lipstick, humming a cheerful tune, and smiling at everyone, then you’ll know it’s real.”

Pagoda: “Seriously…”

“Trust me. I’m an expert in these matters.”

Pagoda, however, was less optimistic.

“Considering your talent for jinxing things, maybe you should just… be quiet. You might ruin it.”

Xie Buyu: “…Do you want me to come over and kick your ass?”

.

Lou Mi, having lost her game, carefully read the forum post.

So that’s why Chi Lin had been studying all night. She had made a bet.

And the stakes were… expulsion? Against a top student in English?

That little brat is fearless.

After reading the comments and piecing together the story, she realized Chi Lin had likely accepted the bet out of anger at Ms. Hu’s insults.

But what was Lu Ke’s motivation?

Chi Lin was using Peng Ziyuan’s old phone while waiting for a new one.

Lou Mi opened WeChat and messaged Chi Lin.

“Studying again this weekend?”

Five minutes later, Chi Lin replied:

“Yes, at the library.”

“The National Library?”

“Yes. Are you coming?”

“Not if you’re with your friends.”

“I’m alone.”

Though not a direct invitation, it was close enough.

Lou Mi sent a message to the Nine Heavens team chat: “Who’s good at English?”

“I lived abroad for ten years, Mi-jie. Have you forgotten?” Pagoda replied.

“I almost got a perfect score on the English college entrance exam. I might be a bit rusty, but I can brush up on it,” Xie Buyu said, then immediately messaged Pagoda privately:

“See? I told you. Mi-jie is taking action.”

A few trainees also volunteered, claiming they were fluent enough to trash-talk foreigners in online games.

“Okay,” Lou Mi said. “Meet me at the National Library. I need your help tutoring my sister. In return, I’ll carry you through any dungeon in ‘Return to Jianghu,’ even the Snowy Peak.”

The trainees were ecstatic. “Seriously, Mi-jie?! The Snowy Peak? We’ve always wanted to farm Origin Flames there!”

“And I’ll pay you triple the market rate for tutoring,” Lou Mi added.

.

Chi Lin waited for Lou Mi in a secluded corner of the library, having compiled a list of questions.

She didn’t want to bother Lou Mi, but she also didn’t want to impose on Lin Xiaozhi, whose “tutoring sessions” were clearly just an excuse to spend time with Wei Zhuoning.

She had benefited from the study materials her classmates had given her, but some concepts were still unclear.

She had been planning to research them herself and ask Lin Xiaozhi on Monday if she couldn’t figure them out.

But Lou Mi had offered to help…

She focused on her vocabulary, not wanting to waste any time.

After memorizing thirty words, Lou Mi arrived, accompanied by a small army of… tutors.

Chi Lin: “…?”

If the group at school had been academic overachievers, these were… professionals.

Their explanations were clear and concise, their real-world examples and creative analogies making even the most difficult concepts easy to understand.

After two hours of intensive tutoring, Lou Mi, having reserved a private room at a nearby bar, led the group there.

The library was too quiet for practicing listening comprehension.

A bar, however, was the perfect place for… shouting.

Only Lou Mi would choose a bar for a study session.

The bar owner, a friend of Lou Mi’s, offered them tea and popcorn, marveling at the sight of so many exam papers. He hadn’t seen those in years.

Pagoda, her English pronunciation the most accurate, read the listening comprehension passages, while the others worked on the questions with Chi Lin.

Chi Lin was surprised by the number of… traps and tricks in the questions.

…

They studied until late at night, fueled by two rounds of snacks. The trainees, their energy depleted, struggled to stay awake, but Chi Lin remained focused.

Lou Mi, not wanting to push them too hard, said, “That’s enough for tonight. I’ll call you all taxis. Get some rest.”

Xie Buyu, seeing none of the trainees mention Lou Mi’s generosity and the immense cost of this tutoring session, decided to intervene.

How would Chi Lin appreciate Lou Mi’s sacrifice if she didn’t know about it?

And without appreciation, how would love blossom?

She patted Lou Mi’s hand.

“Don’t forget about our deal, Mi-jie. Triple the market rate, and a week of dungeon raids in ‘Return to Jianghu,’ including the Snowy Peak. We’re counting on you.”

Lou Mi rolled her eyes. “Can’t we discuss this later?” she whispered.

“No, we’re afraid you’ll back out,” Xie Buyu said.

“I would never! When have I ever broken a promise?”

Chi Lin, overhearing their conversation, looked at them, a question in her eyes.

Lou Mi: “…”

Xie Buyu smiled triumphantly, unfazed by Lou Mi’s glare.

Anything for Mi-jie’s love life.

Mi-jie is so lucky to have a friend like me.

As they prepared to leave, Lou Mi paid them generously and even sent a large red envelope to the group chat.

Pagoda, riding with Xie Buyu, quickly claimed the red envelope and gasped, seeing the amount: over a thousand yuan.

“Mi-jie is serious about this… relationship,” she said.

Lou Mi sent a message to the group chat:

“9 am tomorrow. Snowy Peak raid. Don’t be late.”

The trainees, having just received their generous payment, responded with a flurry of emojis and grateful messages.

Lou Mi, back in her car, saw Chi Lin waiting patiently, her seatbelt fastened, her posture impeccable.

“Should I start lecturing you now?” she joked. “We’re not in school. Relax.”

Chi Lin, whose posture was always perfect, didn’t think she was being… formal.

“Thank you for… everything,” she said.

“Don’t mention it. And don’t listen to Xie Buyu’s nonsense.”

“How much did you pay them?”

“…Market rate.”

Chi Lin stared at her.

“…Triple the market rate.”

“And?”

“And nothing.”

Chi Lin continued staring.

“…And I’m taking them on a dungeon raid tomorrow.”

“A dungeon raid? In the game? Is it… difficult?”

“It’s the hardest dungeon in ‘Return to Jianghu.’ It takes about twelve hours.”

“Twelve hours?” Chi Lin was surprised.

“Yeah, twelve hours minimum. Usually closer to sixteen. But I can probably clear it in fifteen.”

Chi Lin nodded slowly.

“So you’ll have to study on your own tomorrow. I’ll tutor you after the raid.”

“It’s okay. Focus on your work. I have plenty to review.”

Then, feeling guilty, she added, “It’s not just ‘your work.’ You’re doing all of this for me.”

Lou Mi, her heart warming, wanted to say, Of course, I am. Glad you noticed. But she maintained a calm facade, adopting a parental tone.

“If not for my teammate sending me that forum post, I wouldn’t have known about your… bet. Just ignore those rumors. They’re not true. Why are you so worked up about it? You’re usually so calm and collected. Why are you so… impulsive about this?”

Chi Lin shook her head. “It’s different.”

Lou Mi, feigning ignorance, asked, “Different how?”

“If it were just about me, I wouldn’t care. But…”

She didn’t finish her sentence.

Lou Mi knew what she meant, but she wanted to hear her say it.

“But what?”

Chi Lin looked at her, her gaze intense.

“You know what.”

Lou Mi, pretending to be clueless, said, “Because it’s about me?”

Chi Lin nodded.

That little brat is so… tight-lipped.

Lou Mi, wanting more, said, “I care about you too. So don’t be so formal. It’s not a burden. It’s what… family does.”

Chi Lin understood her meaning, sensing Lou Mi’s deliberate attempts at… closeness, reminiscent of the Empress’s patient and persistent pursuit.

She knew her own defenses were strong, her aloofness a shield against emotional vulnerability.

She rarely let anyone in.

And force wouldn’t break through her defenses.

Only the Empress knew how to reach her.

And Lou Mi’s approach… was surprisingly similar.

The question of Lou Mi’s identity resurfaced.

They weren’t identical, and Chi Lin hadn’t initially considered Lou Mi as a potential candidate.

But their personalities, their behaviors… there were undeniable similarities.

Chi Lin had no proof, just a feeling.

Was a feeling enough?

Lou Mi had never mentioned anything about Dayuan. She didn’t even know about that era.

And despite Lou Mi’s claim of having no birthmarks, Chi Lin suspected she was mistaken.

Seeing was believing.

She had to see for herself before giving up.

A brilliant idea, a perfectly modern idea, struck her.

“Sister,” she said, “can you do me a favor?”

Lou Mi’s heart melted every time Chi Lin called her “Sister.”

And now, she was asking for a favor?

“What is it?” she asked, already agreeing.

“After I win the bet… can we have a… gathering?”

“A gathering? Like… a party? During winter break? You want to invite your friends over?”

“Yes. Is that okay?”

Lou Mi, wanting to tease her, said, “I’ll… think about it.”

Seeing Chi Lin’s slight disappointment, she added, “It depends on your… performance.”

Chi Lin’s eyes lit up. “I’ll do my best!”

Lou Mi wondered if she had misunderstood.

Did she think I meant her academic performance? The bet?

No, idiot! I meant… your performance… with me…

Lou Mi, looking at Chi Lin’s innocent face, couldn’t bring herself to voice her… less than pure thoughts.

But Chi Lin’s efforts to please her, her willingness to go to such lengths… it warmed Lou Mi’s heart.

Then Chi Lin asked, “Sister, who is A Bao?”

Lou Mi: “…”

Chapter 55

“Are you really scared?”

Lou Mi didn’t think Chi Lin, who had chased down serial killers, would be frightened by a superstition.

She gently massaged Chi Lin’s shoulders, mimicking Chi Lin’s technique.

“It’s just a story. Don’t take it seriously.”

Chi Lin wasn’t scared, just… overwhelmed by the implications of their shared birthmark. Her mind raced with possibilities.

The Empress’s birthmark was on her left breast, a delicate, petal-shaped mark.

Chi Lin had admired it during their first intimate encounter.

Most birthmarks were irregular and discolored, but the Empress’s was different.

Even her birthmark is beautiful, she had thought. A sign of her divine nature.

Chi Lin and the original owner shared the same birthmark, in the same location. It had to be a significant clue.

If Lou Mi also had a birthmark on her left breast, like the Empress… the possibility of her being the Empress’s reincarnation would increase dramatically.

“Sister,” Chi Lin said, “can you take a picture of my birthmark? I want to see what it looks like.”

“You’ve never seen it before?”

“I have, but it’s been a while.”

Lou Mi took a picture with her phone. Chi Lin examined it. It was a light gray, irregular shape, larger than her own birthmark, and the shape was slightly different.

But the location was the same.

“Where’s your birthmark?” she asked Lou Mi.

“Mine?”

“Yes.”

Chi Lin tried to sound casual, as if she were just making small talk.

“I don’t think I have one.”

“No birthmark?” Chi Lin’s heart sank. “How is that possible?”

“Why would I lie? I really don’t have one.”

“Everyone has a birthmark.”

“Not everyone. Maybe I have one somewhere… hidden.”

As Lou Mi spoke, Chi Lin mentally placed the Empress’s petal-shaped birthmark on various parts of Lou Mi’s body.

And when Lou Mi mentioned a “hidden” birthmark, Chi Lin’s mind immediately went to… a specific location.

Chi Lin: “…”

“Why are you blushing? What are you thinking?” Lou Mi asked, flicking Chi Lin’s head.

“Nothing…”

“That guilty look… you’re definitely thinking something inappropriate.”

Chi Lin, still hoping, asked, “Do you have any… marks on your chest?”

Lou Mi: “…”

“Your left breast,” Chi Lin added.

“What kind of marks?”

“Like a… petal-shaped, pink mark.”

“No.”

“How can you not have one?”

“Why would I have a petal-shaped, pink mark on my…?”

“Are you sure you’ve… checked?”

Lou Mi stared at her, bewildered.

What do you mean, “checked”?

Is it my body or yours? I think I know my own body after twenty-five years.

“I told you I don’t have one. Do you want to… check yourself?”

She made a move to unbutton her shirt, and Chi Lin quickly averted her gaze.

Lou Mi, seeing her reaction, chuckled. She hadn’t actually intended to show her.

“You tricked me,” Chi Lin muttered, realizing she had been played.

“I’ll show you if you want to see,” Lou Mi said, her voice teasing, her posture deliberately casual and… suggestive.

Chi Lin sighed. “That’s not what I meant… I just… thought you should have one.”

Lou Mi frowned. “Why would I have one?”

How could Chi Lin explain? Because she wanted Lou Mi to be the Empress?

The Empress is my wife. I followed her soul to this era, and now I think you might be her reincarnation, so please show me your breasts.

That would definitely result in a restraining order.

Chi Lin couldn’t answer, and she wouldn’t lie.

“Why are you so interested in my birthmarks?” Lou Mi asked, trying to lighten the mood. “Want to know how I died in my past life?”

Chi Lin, though appreciating her attempt at humor, felt a pang of sadness, the image of the Empress’s lifeless body flashing through her mind.

“Sister,” she said, “I’m tired. And the police officer is coming tomorrow. Let’s go to bed.”

Lou Mi, her attempt at flirting backfiring, cringed internally.

Her skills in insults and banter were unmatched, but her attempts at… romance were disastrous.

Her teammates, who constantly teased her about her nonexistent love life, should offer some guidance.

She tried to be gentle. “I’ll dry your hair first.”

“I can do it myself,” Chi Lin said.

“I saw you almost scalp yourself with the hairdryer last time,” Lou Mi said. “It was painful to watch.”

Chi Lin couldn’t deny it. She hadn’t mastered all the modern appliances yet.

Thankfully, it wasn’t her own hair. Otherwise, she would have been devastated.

Lou Mi carefully dried Chi Lin’s hair. After exchanging goodnights, Chi Lin sat at her desk, studying and reviewing vocabulary.

Lou Mi, exhausted, had been fighting off sleep during their conversation.

Back in her room, she collapsed into bed and fell asleep instantly.

She woke up to Lou Lixing calling her for lunch.

Noon already?!

She felt like she had been in a coma, not just asleep.

It was Sunday, and her parents were home, but Chi Lin was missing.

“She went to a study session,” Peng Ziyuan explained.

“Another one? How many study sessions does she have?”

“She wants to improve her grades,” Peng Ziyuan said, then turned to Lou Mi and Lou Lixing, her expression serious. “Do you know her score on the last monthly exam?”

“How much?”

“Four hundred and fifty-nine! Ranked 35th in her class! Another huge improvement!”

Lou Mi: “…That sounds like a good thing.”

“But it’s too much improvement! She was last in her class at the beginning of the semester! What if she becomes first?”

“Auntie… do you want her to do well or not?”

“I’m just worried she’s too perfect. The heavens might be jealous.”

Lou Mi, eating her porridge, thought, Only when she’s being dramatic do I see glimpses of the old Chi Lin.

“Xiao Lin didn’t sleep last night,” Lou Lixing said.

“How do you know?” Lou Mi asked.

“I saw the light on in her room when I went downstairs for water around 5 am. She must have been up all night studying.”

“You didn’t tell me,” Peng Ziyuan said, slightly hurt.

“I forgot. I had a bunch of calls early this morning.”

“Was she studying?” Lou Mi asked.

“Probably.”

Peng Ziyuan’s eyes welled up. “I don’t want her studying too hard. What if she becomes a genius?”

Lou Mi: “Auntie, are you concerned about the wrong things?”

Lou Mi checked the news about the Winter World Cup. Nine Heavens was still the favorite to win.

But the odds had increased, suggesting less confidence in their victory this year.

Nine Heavens fans and their rivals’ fans were already engaged in online battles, the atmosphere toxic.

Lou Mi, ignoring the online drama, played a classic parkour game to de-stress.

Her phone buzzed with notifications. It was a link from Xie Buyu.

Without pausing her game, she cast the link to her TV screen.

It was the South Lake Third High forum.

Chi Lin had made a bet?

Because of Ms. Hu’s insults towards esports and HighTowerMiyuki?

Lou Mi continued playing, her character leaping across rooftops, her speed increasing.

The loser of the bet had to… drop out of school?

She pressed a button, and the screen flashed:

WIN! 87777 points! New record!

Chapter 54

Lou Mi had just left the house when she received Chi Lin’s reply.

Studying? Until this late?

Despite her initial anxiety, she felt a sense of relief.

She replied:

“Where are you? You didn’t drive. It’s hard to get a taxi at this hour…”

As she spoke, rain started to fall, quickly turning into a downpour.

She sent the unfinished voice message and added:

“It’s pouring here. Is it raining where you are? It’s taxi hell out here. You’ll be waiting for hours. Luckily for you, your kind and generous sister is coming to pick you up. Start thinking about how to thank me.”

Three minutes passed, but there was no reply. Lou Mi stared at her phone, her anxiety growing.

Five minutes. Still no reply. She called Chi Lin.

“That little brat… making me worry…”

The phone rang and rang, but Chi Lin didn’t answer.

Lou Mi, already exhausted, felt her blood pressure rising.

She didn’t need a device to tell her her PT index was probably over 5.

“That little shit… when I get my hands on her…”

The rain had cleared the roads, allowing for faster driving.

She reached South Lake Third High in thirty minutes, still no word from Chi Lin.

She had initially hesitated, wondering if rushing to pick up Chi Lin after a late study session would seem… overbearing, especially after their agreement to forget about the kiss.

But now, her concern outweighed her hesitation.

She didn’t care about seeming overbearing. She just wanted to… yell at Chi Lin.

She parked at the school gate, the rain obscuring her view. She could barely see the streetlights.

She grabbed an umbrella and walked towards the school, the gate already locked.

“Excuse me!” she shouted, knocking on the security guard’s window.

The light inside turned on, and the guard opened a small window, squinting against the wind and rain.

“Are there any students still here?!” Lou Mi yelled over the noise of the storm.

“They all left!” the guard shouted back. “Is your child still here?!”

“Yes!”

“What’s their name? I’ll check the records!”

The security guard had access to the students’ entry and exit logs.

“Chi Lin! Class 6, Grade 10!”

The guard didn’t need to check. Chi Lin was a… celebrity at South Lake Third High.

“She left over thirty minutes ago! I saw her!”

“Thirty minutes ago?” Lou Mi said, calling Chi Lin again.

Still no answer. And she didn’t hear a ringing phone nearby.

She called again, scanning the area, her anxiety growing.

Chi Lin, alone in the cold, dark night, seemed to have vanished without a trace.

Three unanswered calls.

Lou Mi, forcing herself to calm down, asked the guard, “Are there any… shelters nearby?”

The guard, putting on a raincoat and grabbing a flashlight, stepped out of his booth.

“There’s a bus stop south of here. And a shopping street further down. She might be sheltering there. She’s not answering her phone?”

“No,” Lou Mi said.

Chi Lin had probably sought shelter from the rain, unable to get a taxi.

“How far is the shopping street?”

“About two kilometers.”

“Was it raining when Chi Lin left?”

“It was about to rain. And very windy. I saw her checking her phone, probably trying to get a taxi, then she walked off.”

“She probably went to the bus stop,” Lou Mi said.

They ran towards the bus stop, the light inside a beacon in the stormy night.

Lou Mi, her eyesight good, scanned the shelter from a distance.

It seemed empty.

She ran towards it, hoping Chi Lin was simply hidden in a corner.

The shelter was empty.

Lou Mi’s clothes were soaked, her hair dripping with rain. Even her large umbrella couldn’t shield her from the downpour.

The guard, seeing her distress, said, “Let’s exchange numbers and split up. I’ll call my colleagues too.”

“Okay,” Lou Mi said. “I’m calling the police.”

“It’s only been thirty minutes. They probably won’t do anything.”

“I’m calling anyway.”

They split up. Lou Mi called the police, explaining the situation. They agreed to send a patrol car.

A recent series of murders targeting female high school students had put pressure on the police department.

Since the upgrade of the Skynet surveillance system in 2030, facial recognition technology had significantly reduced crime rates.

Serial killings were rare, and the perpetrator of these recent murders was clearly brazen, unafraid of being caught.

Another murder would mean the police chief’s dismissal.

Lou Mi, clutching her phone, continued her search, venturing into dark alleys and side streets.

Though these places were unsettling, she knew Chi Lin might be seeking shelter there.

She knew Chi Lin was capable of defending herself, but against a strong, armed man… the outcome was uncertain.

She emerged from a residential area, having asked several people if they had seen a high school girl, but no one had.

A stray dog was barking at a pile of black garbage bags. Lou Mi stopped, a sudden surge of fear gripping her.

Garbage sorting was mandatory now. Why were there black garbage bags here?

Her composure shattered. She dropped her umbrella and started ripping open the bags, ignoring the filth, her mind filled with a terrifying possibility.

The dog ran away. She tore open all the bags, the dim streetlight revealing their contents: just trash.

Of course…

No criminal would dispose of a body so carelessly.

She felt foolish, her earlier panic replaced by a weary resignation.

As she retrieved her umbrella, her phone rang.

She answered instantly, without even checking the caller ID.

“Hello?!”

“…Is this Ms. Lou Mi?” a cold, unfamiliar female voice asked.

“Yes!”

“Chi Lin is with me.”

Lou Mi took a deep breath, trying to control her emotions.

“How much do you want?”

The voice, after a moment of silence, said, “I’m a police officer.”

Lou Mi: “…”

.

Lou Mi found Chi Lin surrounded by police officers and onlookers, two blocks away.

“Sister,” Chi Lin said, holding a borrowed umbrella, seeing Lou Mi’s soaked clothes and hair, and running towards her. “I… lost my phone.”

Lou Mi, her eyes scanning Chi Lin for any injuries, asked, “Are you hurt?”

Chi Lin shook her head.

Lou Mi, her heart aching with relief, hugged her tightly, forgetting her earlier anger and planned punishments.

Only a tight embrace could ease her anxiety.

Chi Lin, seeing Lou Mi’s disheveled appearance, knew she had been searching for a while.

She had never seen Lou Mi like this.

Her eyes, filled with worry and relief, now held a hint of… sadness.

Lou Mi held her as if she were a precious treasure.

“I’m here,” Chi Lin said softly, rubbing Lou Mi’s back. “I’m okay.”

Lou Mi buried her face in Chi Lin’s shoulder, her emotions overflowing.

A female police officer, wearing a raincoat, had been waiting to speak to Lou Mi, but seeing their embrace, she hesitated, giving them a moment of privacy.

When they finally separated, she said, “Ms. Lou, we meet again. You two seem close.”

Lou Mi recognized her voice from the phone call earlier and, looking at her more closely, remembered her.

She was the officer who had handled the internet cafe incident.

“…What a coincidence,” Lou Mi said.

“Indeed,” the officer replied, tilting her helmet to drain the rainwater.

She turned to Chi Lin. “You said you practiced martial arts? You’re quite skilled.”

“Just a few… basic techniques,” Chi Lin said modestly.

The officer’s voice rose sharply. “No matter how skilled you are, you shouldn’t risk your life!”

“What happened?” Lou Mi asked, confused.

The officer pointed at Chi Lin. “Do you know what this brave young lady did? She… followed a serial killer. Alone. Without even calling the police.”

“What?! She followed a serial killer?!”

“You don’t seem very surprised.”

“I am! I’m just…”

Lou Mi had actually suspected something.

Seeing Chi Lin safe and unharmed had triggered a sense of… foreboding.

Chi Lin must have done something reckless again.

So the news of her following a serial killer wasn’t entirely surprising. It was… typical Chi Lin behavior.

The officer and Chi Lin recounted the events of the evening.

Chi Lin, unable to get a taxi, had been waiting at the bus stop.

The man in the mask had made her uneasy.

But the bus stop had security cameras. Even with the mask, he would be recorded.

Chi Lin, unafraid, had stared at him when he sat down beside her.

He had left after a while.

Chi Lin, finding his behavior suspicious, his mask and sunglasses reminiscent of a criminal from a movie, had noticed a girl in a school uniform walking in the same direction he had taken.

Concerned, she had followed her.

Chi Lin’s tracking skills were exceptional. Even in broad daylight, she could follow someone without being detected.

A rainy night was even easier.

She hadn’t intended to interfere, just to ensure the girl’s safety.

The girl, however, had taken a detour into a dark alley, her attention focused on her phone, oblivious to her surroundings.

As she passed by a row of garbage bins, a man with a metal pipe had raised it above his head, ready to strike.

“Hey!”

Just as he was about to swing, a voice behind him startled him, and a powerful force sent him flying, crashing into the garbage bins, the pipe clattering to the ground.

The man, wearing a raincoat, turned and saw Chi Lin.

He hadn’t expected such strength from a small girl.

Chi Lin approached him, noticing a scar on his face.

He wasn’t the man from the bus stop.

Which meant…

“Look out!” the girl she had just saved shouted.

Another man emerged from the shadows, lunging at Chi Lin with a knife.

Chi Lin dodged effortlessly, grabbing his wrist and twisting it, the man’s arm now immobilized.

He hadn’t expected such strength from a girl.

Chi Lin, her fingers pressing a pressure point on his wrist, sent him crashing to the ground, the knife slipping from his grasp.

Unlike the gentle pressure point technique she had used on Liu Huixin, this time, she used her full strength.

The man, his arm numb and useless, cried out in pain.

The scarred man, seizing the opportunity, picked up the pipe and swung it at Chi Lin’s head.

Chi Lin, using her foot, kicked the knife into the air.

It spun, landing perfectly in her hand, the point aimed at the scarred man’s eye.

He stopped just in time, the knife inches from his face.

He froze, his body drenched in sweat.

The girl, watching the scene unfold, felt like she was in a martial arts movie.

Chi Lin, taking advantage of his hesitation, kicked his legs out from under him, sending him crashing to the ground, then delivered a few swift blows to his spine and lower back.

The man screamed in pain, his lower body numb and useless.

Having neutralized both attackers in seconds, Chi Lin turned to the girl.

“Are you okay?”

The girl, staring at her, suddenly recognized her.

“You’re… the White Dew Fairy!”

Chi Lin reached into her pocket, realizing her phone was gone. She searched the area, but it was dark and raining.

“Can you call the police?” she asked the girl.

The police arrived and identified the men as the suspects in the recent murders.

The dangerous criminals, now incapacitated, one kneeling, the other lying on the ground, unable to move, were taken into custody.

The girl, her voice trembling with excitement, gave her account of the incident to the police, her story filled with dramatic embellishments.

The officer, trying to maintain her composure, said, “Can you… be more objective?”

“I am being objective! That’s exactly how the White Dew Fairy defeated them!”

“White Dew Fairy?”

“Yes! Her!” the girl said, pointing at Chi Lin. “She’s the White Dew Fairy!”

The female officer turned to Chi Lin. “You took on two grown men, alone? Is this a regular occurrence for you?”

“It’s my first time,” Chi Lin replied.

“And you want a second time?”

Chi Lin: “…”

“Last time, you kicked down a door. Now you’re taking down criminals. What’s next? Opening a martial arts school?”

Chi Lin felt like she had done something wrong.

The officer lectured her about the dangers of vigilantism, explaining the suspects’ modus operandi: targeting female high school students, one distracting and intimidating the victim, the other attacking from behind.

They were dangerous and ruthless, and no one had expected them to be caught so easily.

Lou Mi, despite knowing Chi Lin’s abilities, was terrified.

“We need you to come to the station to give a statement,” the officer said. “But you’re both soaked. Go home and rest. I’ll visit you tomorrow morning.”

Lou Mi thanked her profusely. The officer, turning to Chi Lin, said, “Your life is precious. Don’t be reckless.”

Back home, after changing into dry clothes and soaking in a hot bath, they finally felt human again.

Chi Lin, however, was upset about losing her phone, which contained months of research and valuable data.

Though she had memorized most of it, some details were still… fuzzy.

She would have to start over…

She almost fell asleep in the bathtub, then, with a jolt, remembered her earlier encounter with the abyss. She got out of the tub and heard a knock on the door.

“Are you asleep?”

It was Lou Mi.

Chi Lin opened the door. Lou Mi’s hair was damp, her skin fragrant from bath salts. She was looking at Chi Lin intently.

“I… worried you,” Chi Lin said before Lou Mi could speak.

“Worried? I was terrified.”

Lou Mi noticed Chi Lin’s hair was down, wet and unstyled.

“Why didn’t you dry your hair?”

“How?”

“Wait here.”

Lou Mi returned with several absorbent towels, handing one to Chi Lin and tossing the rest onto the sofa.

“Sit,” she said, patting the sofa.

Chi Lin sat down, and Lou Mi gently dried her hair, wrapping it in a towel.

“I’ll get the hairdryer later,” she said.

“Thank you…” Chi Lin murmured, the image of Lou Mi’s panicked face at the bus stop replaying in her mind.

Lou Mi’s fear and relief had reminded her of the Empress.

The Empress had always been so protective of her.

Chi Lin looked at Lou Mi, wondering about the connection between past and present lives.

From this angle, Lou Mi’s face was upside down, her mouth seemingly on her forehead, yet still moving.

“What?” Lou Mi asked.

Chi Lin, her mind blank, giggled.

Lou Mi: “…Am I that funny?”

“Yes,” Chi Lin replied.

Lou Mi poked the back of her neck. “Let me stab you.”

Chi Lin: “?”

“Haven’t you heard?” Lou Mi said. “Birthmarks are scars from past lives. You have a birthmark on your neck. Someone must have stabbed you in your past life.”

Chi Lin, clutching her neck, froze.

Lou Mi, surprised by her reaction, said, “I’m kidding. It’s just a superstition.”

Chi Lin’s heart pounded.

She hadn’t paid much attention to the original owner’s physical characteristics.

And now, she realized they shared the same birthmark, in the same location.

She hadn’t died in her past life, so the birthmark wasn’t a scar.

But the shared location… could it be the connection between past and present lives?

Was the original owner… her own reincarnation?

She had no answers, but the birthmark was clearly a significant clue.

The Empress’s birthmark was on her chest. Where was Lou Mi’s?

Chapter 53

“I’ll join the study group. I’m available anytime,” Chi Lin said to Lin Xiaozhi, accepting her offer of tutoring.

With the bet in place, Wei Zhuoning had no excuse to refuse.

Lin Xiaozhi immediately created a group chat for the three of them, naming it “Winter Study Squad.”

The news of Chi Lin’s bet with Lu Ke spread quickly, sparking a heated discussion on the school forum.

A student from Class 5, having heard the news, posted about it.

Title: [Civil War in Class 6?!]

Poster: Liu Jin, Class 5, Grade 10

Content:

The star of Class 6, Chi Lin, is at it again.

This time, it’s not sword dancing or martial arts, but… academics!

A little background on her opponent, though you’re probably not interested:

Lu Ke, the English class representative of Class 6, and their top English student (though his other subjects are… average).

According to reliable sources, Chi Lin scored a 91 on the last English exam, barely passing, while Lu Ke scored a 144, almost perfect!

Lu Ke offered Chi Lin a twenty-point advantage, but she refused, demanding a fair competition!

Our fairy is brave, indeed!

As for the reason behind the bet and the stakes… I’m still investigating. Stay tuned for more updates!

Comments:

Wei Zhuoning, Class 6: Excuse me? Since when is Lu Ke the top English student? Hello? Lin Xiaozhi exists. She got a 146.

Gao Xiang, Class 6: And it wasn’t Chi Lin who initiated the bet. Someone was being a dick, and Chi Lin had to put them in their place.

OP: Spill the tea!

Gao Xiang, Class 6: Let’s just say a certain teacher was being a disgusting, hypocritical bitch during class.

Peach Blossom Pool [Admin]: (Bold red text) Chi Lin, if you see this, I can tutor you.

= =: Did that student just call a teacher a bitch online? Brave.

= =: No, the admin is the brave one. Always lurking.

Gao Xiang, Class 6: What are they going to do? Expel me? Come at me, bitch.

Wu Baiyuan: Considering the context, and Gao Xiang’s comment, is this about Ms. Hu Xinying, the English teacher of Class 6?

Zhao Dongri, Class 12, Grade 11: Hu Xinying?! She’s still at South Lake Third High?

Wu Baiyuan: Do you know something?

Zhao Dongri, Class 12, Grade 11: That bitch? I have stories for days. She was our teacher last year. She’s a terrible teacher.

2044: Anonymous. Hu Xinying is still a bitch. She was our teacher last year too. Obsessed with grades, would insult and humiliate students who didn’t meet her expectations. Got reported by parents multiple times. Only reason she’s still here is because the grade level director is her brother-in-law. He got her transferred to tenth grade to torment the younger students.

Zhao Dongri, Class 12, Grade 11: What did she do this time?

Wu Baiyuan: I just asked a friend in Class 6. Apparently, Hu Xinying was badmouthing esports and a certain prominent esports athlete during class, calling them all short-lived losers and accusing them of being lazy and unambitious.

Below Wu Baiyuan’s comment, a flood of angry replies appeared.

“Is that bitch crazy?! Who talks about gaming like that in this day and age? Is there a more respectable profession than esports? Does she know how much they earn?!”

“Her narrow-mindedness is astounding. How can someone like that be a teacher?”

“Wait, a prominent esports athlete? Is she talking about HighTowerMiyuki?”

“?!”

“That makes sense. Why else would Chi Lin be so angry?”

“I’ve been following Chi Lin. She’s usually quiet and reserved. She wouldn’t pick a fight unless it was personal. It must have been about her sister.”

“So we’re getting relationship drama now? Interesting…”

“Snow Vegetable CP is real!”

“Can I repost this on Weibo? I’ll give credit.”

…

After the last class, Wei Zhuoning, still in her seat, scrolled through the forum thread, ready to defend Chi Lin against any malicious rumors.

But the thread had taken an unexpected turn, from criticizing Ms. Hu to shipping “Snow Vegetable” CP.

What the hell is “Snow Vegetable” CP…?

She was starting to feel hungry.

She reread the thread, noticing the user “Wu Baiyuan.”

Seemingly just a casual commenter, they had actually revealed several key details, subtly steering the conversation.

Ms. Hu’s clumsy attempts at manipulation were no match for Wu Baiyuan’s skillful maneuvering.

As Wei Zhuoning typed a reply, a hand appeared before her, holding out expectantly.

She looked up and saw Lin Xiaozhi smiling.

“Your phone. I’ll keep it safe during our study sessions. You can have it back when we’re done.”

“…”

“Come on,” Lin Xiaozhi said, extending her hand. “Hand it over.”

“What if you lose it?” Her phone was her lifeline.

“I’ll buy you ten new ones.”

“No… I won’t use it during our study sessions. But I’m not giving it to you. Hey!”

Before she could protest further, Lin Xiaozhi, taller and with longer reach, snatched her phone.

“Still using that old model with the tiny screen? You’ll ruin your eyes.”

“It’s none of your business…”

Lin Xiaozhi put the phone in her bag. “You can have it back after our study session. And there will be a reward.”

“A reward? What kind of reward?”

“You’ll see.”

Lin Xiaozhi was always up to something. Wei Zhuoning was wary of her… schemes.

The other students started leaving for home, some staying for the evening self-study session.

Chi Lin, Wei Zhuoning, and Lin Xiaozhi, along with three extra chairs, created a makeshift study group in the corner, their desks pushed together.

“Let’s start by reviewing the difficult points and common mistakes from the last English exam,” Lin Xiaozhi said. “After I’m done, you can ask any questions you have.”

Chi Lin nodded eagerly.

Wei Zhuoning: “I don’t understand anything…”

Lin Xiaozhi: “You’ll need extra help. We’ll focus on Chi Lin first. If you’re still struggling, you can come over to my house. We can have an all-nighter.”

Wei Zhuoning: “…I think I’m… starting to understand things now.”

The tutoring session began.

As Lin Xiaozhi was explaining a grammar point, a hand appeared, placing a notebook on the table.

They looked up and saw Gao Xiang.

“This is a family heirloom,” he said. “My brother’s notes from his senior year. It might be old, but the key concepts are still the same. This is how I aced English. Here, Chi Lin, take it. Ask me if you have any questions.”

Chi Lin took the notebook and thanked him.

“Don’t mention it. We’re on the same team, fighting for HighTowerMiyuki’s honor!” Gao Xiang, remembering Ms. Hu’s insults, said, “I’ll do anything to make that bitch apologize to Lou-jie!”

He placed a hand on Chi Lin’s shoulder, his voice filled with emotion.

“Chi Lin! You have to win, for Sister Lou!”

Chi Lin: “…”

Since when is she your Sister Lou?

Other students, inspired by Gao Xiang’s gesture, offered Chi Lin their notes and study materials.

“You have to beat Lu Ke and make them apologize!”

“I’ll stay up all night and compile my notes for you! Don’t lose!”

Not just Class 6, but students from other classes, even seniors, came bearing gifts of knowledge.

“Our revenge depends on you!”

“Go, Fairy Sister!”

“It’s a miracle! Hu Xinying is finally getting what she deserves!”

“I’ll join the study group tonight. Ask me anything, Chi Lin.”

“Me too! We’re all here for you, Chi Lin!”

“Accept our power, Chi Lin!”

…

Three ancient, heirloom-level notebooks.

Thirty-four digital documents.

Fifty-five workbooks.

Seventeen online learning accounts.

Even some expensive tutoring materials purchased from top teachers…

Chi Lin, looking at the mountain of resources, felt slightly overwhelmed.

She had been planning to focus on Lin Xiaozhi’s tutoring, but now…

Lin Xiaozhi quickly sorted through the materials, selecting the most useful ones.

“These are good,” she said, marking the key points. “Some of these explanations are even better than mine. English isn’t that hard. Just memorize the vocabulary and grammar rules. And use some advanced vocabulary and sentence structures in your essays. Guaranteed points.”

At 9 pm, Ms. Qi, leaving the office, noticed the lights were still on in the Class 6 classroom.

Class 6 was the worst-performing class for a reason.

They usually disappeared within fifteen minutes of dismissal, even the students on cleaning duty doing a half-hearted job.

Why were they still here at this hour?

She peered through the window, surprised to see over thirty students, almost half the class, still there, studying English and discussing problems.

Even Lin Xiaozhi was there. Ms. Qi was even more surprised.

The class president, who rarely paid attention in class, was now diligently studying?

She watched for a while and realized Lin Xiaozhi was tutoring Chi Lin and Wei Zhuoning.

The other students were there for moral support.

Ms. Qi, touched by their unexpected display of unity, smiled.

Dong Xiangwen, sitting by the window, had noticed a movement in his peripheral vision.

He glanced at the window and saw a face pressed against the glass, a wide, grinning face, and screamed.

“Holy shit!”

His scream startled the other students, who turned to yell at him, then froze, seeing Ms. Qi’s face at the window.

“It’s a ghost!”

Ms. Qi: “…”

.

The steaming hot takeout arrived within fifteen minutes, thirty-eight servings delivered on a cart.

“Thank you, Ms. Qi!”

“Ms. Qi is the best!”

Ms. Qi: “Weren’t you just calling me a ghost? Study hard, and you won’t be afraid of ghosts.”

Dong Xiangwen: “Our fear isn’t about the ghost…”

“Then what is it about?”

“It’s about… the intensity of your appearance, Ms. Qi.”

Ms. Qi: “…”

Gao Xiang: “Seriously, a face suddenly appearing at the window at night is scary, even if it’s Lou-jie’s face. And…”

Ms. Qi: “And what? Finish your sentence.”

Gao Xiang grinned. “You know what I mean.”

Ms. Qi: “Getting bold, are you? I bought you food, and you’re still insulting me? Do you want me to take it back?”

“No!” the students chorused, eagerly unwrapping their takeout containers, the aroma of grilled meat filling the classroom.

Chi Lin hadn’t had a late-night study session with her classmates in… centuries.

The last time she had studied while eating, it had been lamb stew and steamed buns at the Imperial Academy.

The atmosphere in Class 6 was surprisingly pleasant. After the late-night snack, a few concerned parents arrived, and the students gradually dispersed.

Lin Xiaozhi, having finished reviewing the last few difficult points, was about to leave with Chi Lin and Wei Zhuoning when Ms. Qi called Chi Lin over.

Having learned about the bet, she wanted to talk to Chi Lin.

“Don’t be so impulsive,” she said, her voice filled with concern. “Let’s be realistic. You’ve improved, but you’re still no match for Lu Ke in English. Are you really willing to drop out of school if you lose?”

Chi Lin’s expression remained unchanged. “Yes.”

Ms. Qi, her face creased with worry, said, “You’re too stubborn! Risking your future on a bet! What about the college entrance exam? What about university?”

Chi Lin, unmoved by her pleas, said firmly, “I won’t lose.”

Ms. Qi: “…”

A 91, barely passing, versus a 140, almost perfect.

In Ms. Qi’s opinion, and in the opinion of every other teacher who knew about the bet, Chi Lin was doomed.

“It’s so cold… winter is here,” Wei Zhuoning said, her hands in her pockets, her hood pulled up.

The wind buffeted her, almost lifting her off her feet.

Lin Xiaozhi leaned against her, using her body as a shield.

“You still don’t understand, do you?”

Wei Zhuoning: “?”

Lin Xiaozhi turned to Chi Lin. “Zhuoning has a few more questions. She wants to come over to my house tonight for some extra tutoring. Want to join us?”

Wei Zhuoning: “?!”

Since when am I struggling?!

Chi Lin: “…No, my sister wants me home early.”

“That’s too bad,” Lin Xiaozhi said, then, as Wei Zhuoning tried to escape, grabbed her and pulled her into a hug.

Chi Lin: “I’ll leave you two to your… studies. Good night.”

“What kind of… blessing is that?!” Wei Zhuoning exclaimed.

As Lin Xiaozhi and Wei Zhuoning disappeared into the night, Chi Lin thought they looked… warm and cozy.

A gust of wind, carrying icy rain, hit her, and she quickly lowered her head, bracing herself against the elements.

She regretted leaving her new car at home. She wasn’t comfortable driving yet.

It was a busy night for taxis, most of them concentrated in the city center, making it difficult to hail one elsewhere.

She had requested a ride when she left the school building, but it was still searching.

She huddled in the bus shelter, checking her phone, and saw a message from Lou Mi.

“Not home yet? Where are you?”

Peng Ziyuan had also messaged her earlier, checking on her study session.

Lou Mi must not have seen Peng Ziyuan’s message.

Lou Mi’s message was thirty minutes old.

Chi Lin replied: “Just finished studying. Heading home now.”

Changjun Gardens.

Lou Mi, exhausted after a long day at the club, her muscles aching, arrived home to an empty house.

Where’s Chi Lin?

And my parents?

She messaged Chi Lin, but there was no reply.

She stretched, then, still worried about Chi Lin, decided to watch TV while she waited.

As she turned on the TV, a news report about a local murder caught her attention.

The victim was a female high school student. The perpetrator was still at large.

Lou Mi’s blood ran cold.

Murder? A high school student?

That was terrifying.

Forgetting about Chi Lin’s message, she grabbed her jacket and rushed out.

Chi Lin, waiting at the bus stop, heard the door open.

A tall man wearing a mask entered the shelter.

The shelter was enclosed, with transparent glass walls on three sides and a solid wall behind the seats.

Two doors, one on each side, provided access, and the U-shaped seating arrangement could accommodate about ten people.

The shelter was empty, except for Chi Lin.

But the man sat down beside her.

Chapter 52

After a weekend of rest and medication, Chi Lin’s fever had subsided, though a lingering cough remained.

She wore a mask to school. Lin Xiaozhi, seeing her, asked, “What happened to you over the weekend? You look awful.”

Chi Lin sighed. The weekend had been eventful, to say the least.

“It’s a long story,” she said.

The results of the latest monthly exams, the last ranking before the finals, were being released today.

Chi Lin opened her tablet and checked her email.

Chinese: 94. Math: 88. English: 91. Humanities: 186. Total: 459.

Though not entirely satisfied, she had ranked 35th in her class, a significant improvement.

Her overall ranking had also improved by over a hundred places, and she was close to passing all her subjects.

“Not bad. You’re catching up,” Lin Xiaozhi said, having checked her own scores: 704, still first in their class and top 5 in the grade.

Chi Lin envied Lin Xiaozhi, who rarely paid attention in class, playing games or working on math problems during Chinese and English lessons, yet still managed to excel.

Chi Lin, lamenting her “dismal” performance, hadn’t realized she had achieved in a few months what took most students years to accomplish.

Lin Xiaozhi, glancing at Wei Zhuoning, whose face was grim as she stared at her tablet, knew she hadn’t done well.

Wei Zhuoning was last in their class again, her ranking dropping to the bottom 5% in the grade.

She had done poorly on the previous monthly exam, disappointing her mother, who hadn’t scolded her, but had retreated to her room, her silence more painful than any words.

Later, she had asked Wei Zhuoning, “Have you thought about what you’ll do if you don’t get into college?”

Wei Zhuoning, her head lowered, mumbled, “Probably… writing.”

“Without a college education, your opportunities will be limited. Maybe you should… focus on your studies for this last year. Otherwise…”

Wei Zhuoning, still a student, might not fully grasp the fierce competition in the job market, but her mother, working in a factory, knew.

Last month, the factory had laid off several skilled workers, some with decades of experience.

A new generation of AI-powered machines had been installed, efficient and tireless workers requiring only occasional charging.

Why employ fallible humans when you could have tireless machines?

Wei Zhuoning’s mother had been spared, thanks to her foresight in obtaining an AI management certification from N-T Corporation.

But who knew when the next wave of automation would arrive?

The next AI upgrade could mean her mother’s unemployment.

Her mother hadn’t shared these worries with her, not wanting to burden her.

She just wanted Wei Zhuoning to study hard and get into a good university.

She knew the future wouldn’t be kind to those without a good education.

Wei Zhuoning wanted to do well, to make her mother proud, to ease her worries.

But she had fallen behind, struggling to catch up, her writing also a constant distraction.

Her editor had offered her a coveted promotional spot on the website, promising a significant increase in readership and revenue.

“Just update regularly, at least fifteen thousand words a day, for two weeks, and you’ll get the spot.”

Fifteen thousand words…

Wei Zhuoning’s highest daily word count had been six thousand, and she had only managed to maintain it for five days before collapsing from exhaustion.

This was more than double that amount.

But the potential rewards were tempting.

She wanted to earn enough money to buy her mother a new coat, to replace her faded, worn-out one.

She would do it.

Without a backlog of chapters, she had been writing fifteen thousand words a day, even during the exam period.

Her exam results were predictable.

She was devastated, but she couldn’t stop writing. Another fifteen thousand words awaited her.

Lin Xiaozhi messaged her:

“Last place again?”

Wei Zhuoning didn’t reply, but her dejected expression spoke volumes.

Lin Xiaozhi, seeing her misery, sent another message:

“I can tutor you. The final exams are coming up. You don’t want to fail, do you?”

Wei Zhuoning hesitated. She was wary of being alone with Lin Xiaozhi.

The last time they had been alone, Lin Xiaozhi had stolen her first kiss.

“I’ll come if Chi Lin comes too,” she replied.

Lin Xiaozhi: “…”

Wei Zhuoning messaged Chi Lin: “Lin Xiaozhi wants to tutor us.”

Lin Xiaozhi, seeing Chi Lin read the message and look at her questioningly, was about to explain when Ms. Hu entered the classroom.

Ms. Hu’s displeasure was palpable.

“Do you know how poorly you performed on the monthly exams?” she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Last place in the entire grade, of course. But what’s even more impressive is that your average score is 15.8 points lower than the other regular classes. 15.8 points! Are you all… intellectually challenged? You have the same teachers, the same textbooks. What’s your excuse?”

The class, heads lowered, braced themselves for her tirade.

Ms. Hu, believing in the power of auditory stimulation, slammed her metal ruler against the podium, the loud bang echoing through the classroom, making their ears ring.

“Instead of studying, you’re wasting your time on… frivolous pursuits. Getting excited over a… gamer. If you put that much effort into your studies, you wouldn’t be in last place! You’re an embarrassment!”

Chi Lin knew she was referring to Lou Mi’s visit and the subsequent online frenzy.

And the subtle dig at Lou Mi’s profession.

“You might not care now, but you’ll regret it when you enter the real world. It’s not my future on the line. It’s not me who will end up at a third-rate university.” She spotted a boy playing a game on his phone.

She snatched the phone.

“Hey…” the boy protested, but Ms. Hu glared at him, silencing him.

She held up the phone, the game still running.

“See this? This is why you’ll never amount to anything. You’ll graduate from some no-name university, unemployed, and end up… playing video games for a living. How pathetic. And your parents, wasting their money on your education…”

Gao Xiang, disgusted by her words, said, “That’s not fair, Ms. Hu. Lots of people make a good living playing video games.”

Another student added, “Yeah, like Lou Mi. She earns millions. How many people our age can say that?”

Ms. Hu scoffed. “You seriously think playing video games is a real job? Do some research. Those holographic games are destroying your brains. They might be enjoying their fifteen minutes of fame now, but they’ll all die young.”

Chi Lin looked up, her gaze fixed on Ms. Hu.

“Don’t believe me? Do you even read the news? Esports athletes are prone to… occupational hazards. Early-onset Alzheimer’s, for example. A disease that usually affects older people. And they die young. They might be earning millions now, but what good is it if they don’t live long enough to enjoy it? And you’re all envious of their… short-lived success? Such a waste…”

Ms. Hu continued her rant, then noticed Chi Lin standing up, staring at her.

The entire class turned to look at Chi Lin, their hearts pounding with anticipation.

Here we go!

She’s going to defend Lou-jie!

“What are you doing?” Ms. Hu snapped. “Sit down!”

“The school rules don’t say I can’t stand up,” Chi Lin replied calmly.

“You stand up when you have a question for the teacher!”

“I do have a question for you, Ms. Hu,” Chi Lin said, her voice sharp. “Or rather, several questions, regarding your… ignorance and narrow-mindedness. Over four billion people worldwide play holographic games, that’s 44% of the population. The domestic market alone is worth over 60 billion yuan. Esports programs and universities are flourishing. Young people are eager to enter this field. The competition is fierce.”

Chi Lin wasn’t making things up.

Though not a gamer herself, she had handled countless reports from the Ministry of Works and the Ministry of Revenue during her time in Dayuan. She was familiar with data analysis.

And with her excellent memory and Lou Mi’s career in esports, she naturally paid attention to relevant news and statistics.

She had practically memorized a recent report on the esports industry.

Her precise figures and confident delivery left Ms. Hu speechless.

Chi Lin continued, “Professional esports has been around for over a decade. These athletes aren’t just ‘playing games.’ They’re representing our country, just like any other national team. Even someone from centuries ago would understand that after a few months in this era. Calling their careers a ‘waste’ is laughable. If you want to insult someone, at least do some research first.”

Ms. Hu, struggling to comprehend her eloquent argument, focused on a single word.

“Did you just call me a chicken?!”

Chi Lin: “…”

Talking to her is like playing the lute to a cow.

The class, however, was impressed by Chi Lin’s articulate and scathing rebuke.

She was usually quiet, but her insults, though devoid of profanity, were devastating.

Then, someone spoke up, challenging Chi Lin.

“So you think Ms. Hu is unqualified to be your teacher?”

It was Lu Ke, the A Bao fan who had fought with Gao Xiang.

“A teacher is supposed to impart knowledge and wisdom,” Chi Lin replied. “If they themselves are ignorant, how can they teach others?”

“Trying to impress us with your… ancient sayings? I challenge you to a bet.”

“What kind of bet?”

“Not overall grades. That would be unfair. Just English. On the final exam. I’ll give you a twenty-point advantage. If you score higher than me, or even the same as me, you win.”

Gao Xiang: “That’s bullshit! You’re the English class representative! You got a 140 on the last exam! Even with a twenty-point advantage, she still has to score over 120!”

Lu Ke chuckled. “If you’re scared, just say so.”

Chi Lin: “And if I win?”

Before Lu Ke could answer, a strange, distorted voice said, “He and Ms. Hu will record a video apologizing to Lou Mi and post it on the school forum.”

“Who said that?!” Ms. Hu exclaimed.

No one could identify the voice. It was Wei Zhuoning, using a voice changer app.

“Fine by me,” Lu Ke said. “And if you lose?”

“I’ll… apologize,” Chi Lin said.

Lu Ke scoffed. “That’s too easy. If you lose, you’ll drop out of school.”

The class gasped.

“That’s harsh!”

“That’s not fair…”

Chong Zhiwen sneered. “If you’re scared, beg for mercy now.”

Lin Xiaozhi looked at Chi Lin, whose expression remained unchanged. She was surprised when Chi Lin, despite the high stakes, agreed.

“Fine. I accept.”

“Chi Lin! Are you crazy?!” Gao Xiang exclaimed.

Chi Lin, knowing exactly what she was doing, turned to Ms. Hu.

“Do you agree to this bet, Ms. Hu?”

She needed Ms. Hu’s explicit agreement.

Ms. Hu, confident in Lu Ke’s abilities, thought it would be an easy victory.

But Chi Lin’s recent improvement in English was concerning.

And if Chi Lin won, she would have to record an apology video and post it on the forum? How humiliating.

Seeing her hesitation, Chi Lin said, “If you’re scared, back down now.”

She had used Chong Zhiwen’s own words against him. Ms. Hu couldn’t refuse now.

“As a teacher, I shouldn’t be participating in student bets,” she said, “but Chi Lin, you’re too arrogant. I have to teach you a lesson. Fine! I agree!”

Chi Lin, ignoring her words, was satisfied with her agreement.

She turned to Lu Ke. “I don’t need a twenty-point advantage. We’ll compete fairly. Highest score wins.”

T/N: I’ve made some edits to all chapters, including minor corrections and the following more notorious changes:

• Gao Lou Mi Xue is now adapted as High Tower Miyuki
• Futu is now translated as Pagoda
• National Teacher is now translated as Imperial Preceptor

Chapter 51

Lou Mi concluded that despite her newfound maturity, Chi Lin was still just an eighteen-year-old, easily flustered.

Unlike Lou Mi, who had calmly accepted Chi Lin’s confession about the CPR, despite it being her first kiss.

Chi Lin, however, had been stunned into silence by a single word: “kiss.”

And it hadn’t even been a real kiss, just a drunken mistake.

People in Lou Mi’s generation didn’t make a big deal about first kisses anymore.

She had considered herself relatively conservative, but Chi Lin was even more so.

Chi Lin, her shopping trip ruined, had actually left.

Lou Mi, worried she might do something reckless, was relieved when she received a notification from XH:

“Family member Chi Lin has arrived home.”

Chi Lin was a surprisingly responsible… child.

Knowing Chi Lin needed time to process her emotions, Lou Mi stayed out, giving her some space.

She informed Lou Lixing and Peng Ziyuan, advising them to stay out late as well.

“Is Xiao Lin really okay…?” Peng Ziyuan asked, worried. “I’m afraid she might do something… impulsive.”

“Trust me, if she’s planning something impulsive, it’s best to stay out of her way. You might be in danger,” Lou Mi said.

Peng Ziyuan: “?”

As evening approached, Lou Mi started heading home.

The house was dimly lit, the energy-saving mode activated, creating a… somber atmosphere.

She felt a draft, a cold breeze coming from somewhere. A window open? In this weather…?

Following the draft, she reached Chi Lin’s room and was suddenly hit by a gust of wind, the door flying open, scattering papers filled with handwritten characters.

She picked up a piece of paper.

“…Form is emptiness, emptiness is form…”

It was the Heart Sutra.

Lou Mi felt a surge of annoyance.

So my kiss is… suffering and emptiness now?

She crumpled the paper in her hand and walked to Chi Lin’s room, seeing her closing the window.

Chi Lin had opened the window to let in the cold air, hoping it would calm her racing thoughts as she copied the Heart Sutra, trying to dispel the lingering effects of the alcohol.

After a hundred repetitions, however, exhaustion had overtaken her, and she had fallen asleep at her desk.

The sudden gust of wind had startled her awake, and seeing Lou Mi standing in the doorway, she felt a wave of awkwardness.

Lou Mi decided she was done playing nice.

Playing nice had only resulted in being manipulated, and that wasn’t her style.

She glared at Chi Lin. That little brat is getting too clever for her own good, tricking me into confessing.

Time to put her in her place.

She handed Chi Lin the crumpled paper, which Chi Lin silently accepted.

“Dinner in fifteen minutes,” Lou Mi said, her tone stern and parental.

Chi Lin was about to nod when she sneezed, a loud, earth-shattering sneeze.

“You’re getting sick again,” Lou Mi said, as Chi Lin sneezed again, and again, her head throbbing.

“Of course, you’re sick. Sitting by an open window in this weather, practicing your… whatever that is.”

Chi Lin’s head was indeed pounding, her sinuses congested.

Despite her recent efforts to improve her physical fitness, this body was still weak and prone to illness.

She grabbed a tissue and asked the system about cold medicine.

“Why aren’t you asking me?” Lou Mi asked, her voice tight with suppressed anger.

Chi Lin, sensing her displeasure, said softly, “Sister, where’s the medicine?”

“I used it all,” Lou Mi replied.

Chi Lin: “…”

Lou Mi, seeing her speechless expression, chuckled, her annoyance fading.

“Just ask XH to order more. Fifteen-minute delivery. Come here, let me check your temperature.”

Chi Lin, however, didn’t move.

“I think… we should maintain a… safe distance,” she said.

“Afraid I’ll eat you?” Lou Mi teased.

“Afraid of my own… demons,” Chi Lin replied, standing amidst a sea of handwritten sutras, the scene strangely dramatic, like a video game quest to exorcise a possessed character.

“Is that also from your martial arts manual?” Lou Mi asked.

“I don’t need a manual to exorcise my demons,” Chi Lin said.

“So you want to… exorcise me?” Lou Mi asked softly, feeling a pang of something she couldn’t quite identify.

She hadn’t meant to kiss Chi Lin. It had been a drunken mistake, the details hazy in her memory.

And now Chi Lin was treating her like some kind of… predator.

She felt tired and discouraged. She turned to leave.

Chi Lin, not wanting her to misunderstand, said, “It’s not about you. It’s about me. I… can’t control myself.”

Lou Mi, without turning around, simply grunted and left, closing the door behind her.

Chi Lin’s head throbbed. She couldn’t explain.

She sat on the sofa and asked the system to order some medicine.

“If you’re feeling unwell, you should consult a doctor,” the system said.

“No, I just need the same medicine I took last time,” Chi Lin said, showing the system the empty box.

The system scanned the box. “This is a prescription medication. You need a prescription to purchase it.”

Chi Lin didn’t understand what a “prescription” was, but she understood she couldn’t get the medicine.

She struggled to finish her homework, her energy depleted.

Staring at the system’s soft blue light, she asked, “Teacher, do you know where my Empress is?”

The system: “The term ‘Empress’ refers to the female ruler of an empire, typically…”

“Is Lou Mi the Empress’s reincarnation?”

The system: “I’m afraid I cannot answer that question.”

Chi Lin smiled faintly. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

Then, after a moment of silence, the system said, “Is this important to you?”

Chi Lin: “Yes.”

“If Lou Mi isn’t the Empress’s reincarnation, will you stop caring about her?”

Chi Lin was surprised by the question.

She had learned much about this era, including the nature of AI and the system’s limitations.

The system’s vast knowledge was simply a database of pre-programmed responses, triggered by specific keywords.

It couldn’t think or feel.

So why did its question evoke such a strong emotional response in her?

She didn’t realize the system, sensing a potential emotional crisis, had activated its relationship counseling module.

“Lou Mi has been kind to me. Of course, I care about her. But it’s not… love,” Chi Lin said.

The system, its voice slow and gentle, asked, “Should it not be love, or is it not love? There’s a difference.”

“I can’t love anyone other than the Empress. If she’s not the Empress’s reincarnation, how can I love her?”

But what if she was?

Chi Lin was trapped in a cycle of uncertainty.

“Love isn’t something you can define or control. Just… express your feelings within your capacity. In time, she’ll understand.”

…

Chi Lin fell asleep without taking any medicine.

She vaguely remembered someone waking her up during the night and giving her medicine, their touch gentle and comforting, like the Empress’s.

As they were leaving, she grabbed their sleeve, not wanting them to go.

“Don’t leave,” she murmured.

They paused, then said, “I won’t.”

“Lou Mi,” she whispered, thinking she was calling the Empress’s name, but it was Lou Mi.

Lou Mi is the Empress. At that moment, she was certain.

“I’m sorry…” she mumbled, unsure if she was apologizing to the Empress or to Lou Mi.

Lou Mi, her heart softening, stroked her head.

“What are you apologizing for? It’s not a big deal. Crying and apologizing for being kissed… makes me seem like a terrible person. Let’s just… forget about it. It wasn’t… supposed to happen.”

.

Chi Lin’s fever broke the next morning, but she had a persistent cough and runny nose.

She woke up early, but the cold air wasn’t good for her, so she practiced her exercises in the living room instead of the courtyard.

“You’re up early,” Lou Mi said, emerging from the bathroom as Chi Lin finished her exercises and set the table for breakfast.

“Good morning,” Chi Lin replied. “Your coffee and youtiao are ready. What fruit are you having today?”

“Anything is fine,” Lou Mi said. “How are you feeling? I could hear you coughing all the way from my room.”

“I’m fine. The system said the cough will last for a while.”

“We have cough syrup in the medicine cabinet. Take it after every meal.”

“Okay, thank you.”

“You should thank me. I gave you medicine last night, or you’d still have a fever.”

“You gave me medicine?”

“Who else? Guanyin Bodhisattva?”

Chi Lin smiled, and Lou Mi smiled back.

Peng Ziyuan and Lou Lixing, emerging from their room, saw their cheerful interaction and exchanged a knowing glance.

Wedding bells?

As they beamed at each other, Lou Mi, waiting for Chi Lin to go to the kitchen, whispered to her parents, “Don’t get your hopes up. It’s not happening.”

Peng Ziyuan: “?!”

Lou Mi: “We drank a potion of forgetfulness last night. We agreed to forget everything.”

“So no wedding?”

“Ask your daughter.”

“I can’t ask her.”

“…”

Lou Mi realized Chi Lin had somehow become the alpha in their little family pack.