When Zhu Shuiwen got out of the bus, she received an unexpected notification.
[Story event successfully completed. Congratulations, Xiao Shui.]
“Eh?” She froze for a moment, only then realizing—
[Offset value: 0%]
A refreshing, sky-blue imprint appeared on the panel, reflecting the girl’s confused expression.
“…Did I do something?”
She looked at it several times in disbelief, still unable to understand.
Why was it delayed?
Could it be that the villain saw the competition paper she left behind and was reminded of the warm tutoring sessions, reawakening his “joy of teaching others”?
She started wondering whether she should strike while the iron was hot and go deliver some warmth, to consolidate their “friendship.”
She had nothing to worry about anymore—but the one who would have to face the ruthless villain next was her sister.
If his favorability went a little higher, maybe, possibly, perhaps… he might treat her sister a bit more politely?
Wait a second.
The girl stopped walking.
Suddenly, she thought of a terrifying question—
What if he was “allergic” to kindness?
This wasn’t an unfounded worry.
To be honest, the villain’s family situation had completely exceeded her expectations. She had prepared herself for a “dragon’s den,” but instead… It was surprisingly normal.
Especially the aunt—she seemed quite fond of him, praised him often, and didn’t appear to have mistreated him materially.
Even the scar on his face that she had been suspicious of could reasonably be explained as something left from rough play with his younger brother.
If his family situation wasn’t problematic…
Then why did he become the villain?
Surely it couldn’t be innate, could it?
She had once heard of a popular game streamer who suffered from misanthropy. She had treated it as a joke back then, but now…
What if the villain had a similar condition? If she kept trying to “warm” him up, maybe he’d suddenly become murderous instead?
While hesitating, a scene from the stairwell suddenly flashed through her mind.
In her palm, his once-unmoving eyes had suddenly trembled.
As if a dark, terrifying well had been touched by light for the very first time.
By the time she came back to her senses, she had already opened a social messaging app and switched to a secondary account.
But—
Looking at the interface, she froze.
A half-star account—how could she possibly talk to him like this?!
Three minutes later, a shiny membership icon appeared.
“Why am I paying for something like this?” Zhu Shuiwen couldn’t help but question her own soul.
—Oh, right. To level up faster.
…She really had a problem.
He Xueqi’s profile picture stood out from the others: it was an open book.
Zooming in, the highlighted text read:
“It shows a will that does not accept fate, a heart that cannot endure hardship and suffering, a mind lacking patience, and a simple, foolish reason.” [1]
Zhu Shuiwen felt this passage looked familiar. After checking, she found it was from Shakespeare’s Hamlet.
She lingered in the chat box for a long time, then finally backed out.
Once her account level was higher and her secondary account wasn’t so obvious, she would come back to chat with him and “talk heart to heart.”
—That had been the plan.
You poked He Xueqi.
Before exiting, her finger accidentally tapped his profile picture.
Zhu Shuiwen: …!
Ah——!!!
Even though the cold wind was blowing on her, she still broke into a nervous sweat.
No, no, no!
There was still a chance to fix this!
She had heard that pokes don’t send notifications—as long as she acted dead now…
He Xueqi: confused dog
Is this guy seriously online 24/7?!
Zhu Shuiwen improvised desperately—
Zhu Shuiwen: Do you like my new chat bubble?
…Super VIP, thank you very much.
After a few messages, Zhu Shuiwen quickly found an excuse to “log off and escape.”
Not because the conversation was bad—in fact, it was the opposite. It was too good.
He Xueqi was just as polite online as he was in real life—if anything, even more polite.
Specifically, he skillfully used all kinds of cute dog emojis.
No matter what Zhu Shuiwen said, even when the topics became so awkward that she herself felt her scalp tingle, he could still respond smoothly and keep the conversation going.
She had once read that if chatting with someone feels very comfortable, it might be because the other person is consciously adjusting themselves downward to accommodate you.
She wasn’t sure if that applied to He Xueqi, but she definitely felt like she only ever said stupid things, which made her feel a bit guilty.
If she had known she would end up chatting, she should have at least studied the Goldbach Conjecture or the Riemann Hypothesis beforehand to be worthy of the situation.
…Of course, if she had prepared that in advance, she definitely wouldn’t have come to talk to the villain at all.
Just then, she received a message—
He Xueqi: “Are you home?”
Zhu Shuiwen: “I’m home.”
The moment she sent it, she realized something was wrong.
At the very top of the chat window, it clearly showed:
“You are not yet friends with He Xueqi. Click here to add.”
Her vision went dark.
This wasn’t her half-star secondary account.
This was her main account in the class group chat.
“No, wait—what?!”
You have retracted a message
Zhu Shuiwen: Who are you?
Hold on—why did she retract it?!
Doesn’t that make it even more suspicious?!
No, no, she couldn’t think like that. Stay calm—don’t panic. If she just acts like she’s Zhu Feifei, there’s no way she’ll slip up!
The system had guaranteed the disguise was flawless!
How could a novel possibly include something like—someone with a perfect disguise being exposed—such a bizarre twist?
Impossible! Absolutely impossible!
After she waited for half a minute with trembling hands, feeling like a prisoner awaiting execution, the other person finally sent a leisurely reply—
He Xueqi: Sorry, sent to the wrong chat
So this is what it feels like to go from hell straight back to heaven in an instant.
Zhu Shuiwen let out a long breath and suddenly understood how this “misunderstanding” had happened: probably the villain was looking for her sister and accidentally clicked on her profile instead.
She and her sister both had the surname “Zhu,” and their contacts were probably right next to each other—so mis-tapping made sense!
After finally calming down, she typed: Haha, it’s fine
Then, remembering that this was supposed to be her “first conversation” with He Xueqi, she quickly added another message to cover it up:
I just remembered—hi, school genius! Oh right, you probably don’t know who I am yet. I’m Zhu Shuiwen, the new transfer student!
He Xueqi: I know
That instantly left her completely silent.
Maybe it was just guilt, but for some reason, those two plain, punctuation-free words felt increasingly meaningful the more she looked at them.
Stay calm. Stay calm!
Even though her brain was screaming internally, her habit of rambling when nervous kicked in all at once.
Knowing very well that the more she said, the more mistakes she might make, she still frantically typed:
By the way, during major exams, can I come over and borrow your luck?
She had heard from Fang Murou that every time there was a big exam, He Xueqi’s desk would get worn smooth from being patted by Class Six students—and even some outsiders mixed in.
She wasn’t really planning to “borrow luck”; she just didn’t know what else to say under pressure.
He Xueqi: Even if it’s not a major exam, you can still borrow it
Zhu Shuiwen: …??
She reflexively complimented him:
You’re really generous!
But without tone or expression online, even plain text started to feel a bit sarcastic the more she looked at it.
She quickly tried to fix it:
I mean, if it were me, I’d be a little worried about my luck being “used up.” As expected of a top student—you’re really confident and don’t worry about that at all.
He Xueqi: No, I just think it’s better than offering incense in front of my photo
Zhu Shuiwen: …
He Xueqi: Right, Classmate Zhu ^_^
Zhu Shuiwen: ………
—Just how many people do you call “Classmate Zhu”?!
Luckily, that exhausting conversation finally came to an end.
Standing in the entryway, the girl played on her phone for a while before finally remembering to turn on the lights.
As the lights came on, the dragon mural on the wall emerged, its gold foil shimmering.
This was her uncle’s house.
A standalone villa, two-story duplex, with a small garden and garage.
The only drawback was—
It had no liveliness.
It was already past nine at night, and Zhu Shuiwen was still the first one home.
The grand crystal chandelier hanging from the double-height ceiling lit up the space, but instead of warmth, it only made the emptiness feel more pronounced.
Was her sister still not back?
Or did things go smoothly with the male lead, and they hit it off so well that they were still talking?
Just as the thought crossed her mind, she heard the sound of a lock turning.
In her “dream,” whenever she heard her sister come home, she would usually tactfully return to her room to avoid any unpleasant encounter.
But today, she didn’t hide.
“Sister, you’re back—”
She turned her head, and met Zhu Feifei’s dark, clearly angry eyes head-on.
Her voice got stuck in her throat.
It wasn’t because of Zhu Feifei’s obvious irritation—but because of her arm.
It looked like it had been cut by something sharp. Blood flowed down in streaks, forming dark red “riverbeds” along her arm.
Flesh was turned outward in torn edges, yet she looked completely indifferent, as if she didn’t care at all.
Seeing the girl staring, Zhu Feifei tugged down her obviously male-style, maze-pattern jacket to cover the gruesome wound and said irritably:
“What are you looking at? Never seen a fight before?”