Chapter 59: The Price
As if in a haze, Bai Jingxue found herself back in that summer, staring at her graduation certificate, a sense of unreality washing over her. She turned her hand over, her palm devoid of paw pads.
For a moment, she couldn’t distinguish dream from reality.
“Jingxue! Wait for me!”
Lü Qingyan’s voice, as always, was unmistakable.
Bai Jingxue turned to see Lü Qingyan, her hair in a high ponytail, her simple white polo shirt tucked into a gray denim skirt, her white Nike shoes gleaming in the sunlight. Her small backpack was slung over one shoulder, her graduation certificate held high as she ran, her ponytail swaying, the sunlight filtering through her hair, casting a golden glow around her youthful figure.
Lü Qingyan reached Bai Jingxue and, without hesitation, scooped her up, spinning her around, her laughter echoing through the air. “Jingxue, we graduated!”
Bai Jingxue, her cheeks burning under the scrutiny of the surrounding students, patted Lü Qingyan’s shoulder. “Put me down!” she hissed. “People are staring!”
Lü Qingyan, overcome with joy, quickly set her down, then proudly displayed her graduation certificate. “See? I told you I could do it!”
Bai Jingxue took the certificate, her gaze falling upon Lü Qingyan’s graduation photo. She was beautiful, even in this unflattering format.
Perhaps she had been seduced by Lü Qingyan’s beauty, willingly falling into her arms.
But Bai Jingxue knew the truth. She simply loved someone who happened to be beautiful.
She handed the certificate back to Lü Qingyan, her own smile widening. “Good job,” she said. “When you first arrived, I didn’t think you would graduate.”
“Hmph! You underestimated me!”
Lü Qingyan tucked the certificate back into her bag, a bag Bai Jingxue had never seen before. It was clearly new. “Did you buy another bag?” Bai Jingxue asked, her voice laced with amusement.
Lü Qingyan, zipping up her bag, didn’t look up. “Yeah, I saw it and liked it, so I bought it.”
The white bag was covered in a repeating pattern of the letters “MCM.” Bai Jingxue, based on her experience, assumed it was some kind of brand abbreviation.
She mentally filed away this information, then, once Lü Qingyan was ready, they left the school.
They boarded the bus to the train station, settling into the back seats. They had left early, so there were still seats available.
Otherwise, they would have been forced to stand, crammed into the crowded aisle.
It was graduation season, so the bus was filled with students, their voices buzzing with excitement as they discussed their plans for the future.
Bai Jingxue and Lü Qingyan were no exception, though Bai Jingxue, as always, was the quieter one, Lü Qingyan leading the conversation.
The train station was still a long way off. Lü Qingyan glanced at Bai Jingxue, her gaze lingering on her profile.
Unlike Lü Qingyan, who was always cheerful and energetic, Bai Jingxue was quiet and reserved, her expression often devoid of emotion, creating an aura of aloofness.
Some called her the “Ice Queen,” praising her intelligence and beauty. Others criticized her, accusing her of being arrogant and pretentious.
But in Lü Qingyan’s eyes, she wasn’t arrogant. She was simply protecting herself, her heart hidden behind a wall of indifference.
Bai Jingxue, sensing Lü Qingyan’s gaze, turned to face her. “What?” she asked.
Lü Qingyan grinned. “You’re beautiful,” she said, her voice sincere.
They were both well-known figures at their school, so her words drew the attention of the other students.
Bai Jingxue, her cheeks burning, nudged Lü Qingyan’s shoulder. “Stop it,” she hissed.
Lü Qingyan, understanding her discomfort, changed the subject. “Weren’t you planning to take the postgraduate entrance exam?”
Bai Jingxue’s gaze drifted towards the window, her voice quiet. “I’m not taking it anymore.”
Lü Qingyan wanted to ask why, but seeing the sadness reflected in the window, she remained silent.
But Bai Jingxue’s sadness was fleeting. She only allowed herself to be vulnerable in Lü Qingyan’s presence, and even then, she only revealed a small part of herself.
She quickly composed herself, her curiosity piqued. “What about you?” she asked. “What are your plans?”
“My dad said he’ll find me a job,” Lü Qingyan replied, her voice laced with a hint of annoyance. “Ugh, just thinking about it gives me a headache.”
Lü Qingyan’s grades had barely been good enough to get her into this university, and she had been forced to choose a less popular major. But it didn’t matter. The Lü family was wealthy and influential. Finding a job wouldn’t be a problem.
Bai Jingxue, however, had been preparing for this day for a long time. She had researched countless jobs, honing her skills, determined to succeed.
She was confident she could make a living in the provincial capital. Her hard work had been leading to this moment.
As for Lü Qingyan, she had never worried about her future. They came from different worlds. But she wasn’t jealous. She was simply happy that Lü Qingyan would have a good life.
They disembarked the bus, boarding the train. They had lived in the same city, inseparable since their final year of high school, but their journey together was coming to an end.
Bai Jingxue boarded a local bus, heading towards her village in the countryside, while Lü Qingyan hailed a taxi, heading towards the city center.
Her phone vibrated. It was the special ringtone Bai Jingxue had set for her.
[Qingyan]: Next stop in life, we’re still together, okay? Promise me, or you’ll turn into a dog.
Bai Jingxue chuckled, her fingers hovering over the keyboard, ready to reply, when another call came in. Seeing the word “Mom” on the screen, her heart sank.
She answered the call. “Hello, Mom.”
Her mother’s voice, choked with sobs, reached her ears. “Your father’s in trouble,” she cried. “Help me, child! I don’t want to live anymore!”
Bai Jingxue’s heart plummeted, but she quickly calmed herself. “What did Dad do?” she asked.
“He gambled away our house! He’s in debt! He ran away! How am I supposed to live? Your brother and sister are still young! I don’t want to live anymore!”
Bai Jingxue’s stomach churned. She knew her father was a gambler, but he had always been a small-time gambler, his wins and losses never exceeding five hundred yuan.
She forced her voice to remain steady. “Mom, calm down,” she said. “How much does he owe?”
“Over five hundred thousand yuan.”
The world around her faded, the sounds blurring, until there was only silence.
Bai Jingxue, her heart pounding, her breath catching in her throat, clutched her hair, her mind reeling.
She gasped for air, her vision blurring with tears. She tried to hold them back, but they spilled down her cheeks.
She rushed home, her mind racing. She checked their finances, her blood running cold as she discovered numerous IOUs(informal document acknowledging debt) bearing her signature as a guarantor.
This time, she didn’t cry. She laughed, a harsh, bitter sound.
Her father had sent her numerous blank documents, asking her to sign them, claiming it was a necessary procedure and couldn’t be done remotely. She had been suspicious, but she had trusted her family. They had received government subsidies in the past. They wouldn’t harm her.
She had been wrong.
Her breath hitched, her head spinning. The voices around her faded, replaced by a distant ringing. She could only hear someone calling her name.
The voice was familiar. It sounded like Lü Qingyan.
“Jingxue!”
The puppy was worried as she lay on the bed, watching the cat. She had been calling Bai Jingxue’s name for a long time, but the cat still hadn’t opened her eyes. She could only look to Luo Nianshang with pleading eyes.
Luo Nianshang also felt something was wrong. She had only been gone for three days, how could the cat have fallen into a nightmare? And this nightmare state seemed like some kind of price being paid.
Just as she was feeling helpless, the cat on the bed suddenly woke up, gasping for air, her eyes confused.
Lü Qingyan was overjoyed. “Jingxue, you’re awake! You’ve been asleep for three whole days, you scared me to death! No matter how much I called you, you wouldn’t wake up.”
The cat, still dazed, looked at the worried dog, her mind struggling to catch up. “Qingyan?”
The puppy nodded vigorously. “Yes! Qingyan, Lü Qingyan.”
The cat rubbed her heavy head, her throat dry. “I slept for three days? I feel like I had a very long dream.”
The puppy’s heart ached. “Yes, you were sleeping so restlessly, and you couldn’t wake up. I was so scared.”
The cat’s head was still pounding. She tried to stand up, but collapsed back onto the bed, finally resting her head on her outstretched paws.
Perhaps she was too tired, or maybe she hadn’t fully woken from the dream. She didn’t have the energy to maintain her usual distance from the dog.
She smiled, a genuine smile, though weak. “Thank you, Qingyan. You’re always worrying about me.”
The cat’s rare display of sincerity caught Lü Qingyan off guard. She stammered, her voice filled with a shy joy. “You’re welcome. We’re in this together.”
Luo Nianshang examined the cat, discovering that she was simply exhausted. The curse-like state she had been in had vanished.
After several examinations, all with the same results, Luo Nianshang was finally reassured. She then went out, found an alchemy chamber, and began working on the transformation elixir.
The cat and dog were alone again.
Lü Qingyan, watching the exhausted cat, her brow furrowed with worry, asked, “What happened? Did you dream about your past life?”
The cat’s ears were still ringing, but her mind was clear now.
She suspected this was a side effect of altering the course of events. She hadn’t expected the price to be so high.
But it also meant that she might possess some kind of destiny. This was good news.
She shook her head, feeling better. “Did you hear anything?” she asked.
The puppy sighed. “You were crying in your sleep,” she said. “You kept saying, ‘Why are you doing this to me?’ You’ve had a good life in this world, so it must have been a dream about your past life, or something else.”
Crying?
Bai Jingxue’s cheeks burned with shame. She rarely cried in front of others, especially not Lü Qingyan. She had always hidden her tears.
She turned away. “You’re right,” she said. “But don’t worry. My past life is over.”
She needed to focus on her current life, on how to utilize her newfound destiny. There might be side effects, but they were just dreams.
She began to think. If possible, she wanted to try to guide She Yuwei, to use her abilities to eliminate the male lead. But first, she needed to transfer the protagonist’s halo to someone else.
Her thoughts drifted to Luo Nianshang.
Someone had to be the protagonist. Could she transfer the male lead’s halo to Luo Nianshang? That would make the story far more righteous.
But then she realized something was wrong. If Luo Nianshang became the protagonist, wouldn’t the story turn into a reverse harem?
She wondered if the male lead’s destiny possessed some kind of mind-control ability. After all, every woman he had encountered in the original story had inexplicably lost her mind.
If she ignored the destiny aspect and simply had She Yuwei kill off the male lead, the consequences would be severe.
For the sake of her own safety, she needed to think carefully.
But her previous thought had taken a dark turn. Her imagination had conjured up images of Luo Nianshang surrounded by a harem of adoring women.
It was like… a monk entering a land of beautiful women.
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