Shi Xi rarely left her dorm.
She disliked going to the school cafeteria, so she always ordered takeout—just a few steps to pick it up.
Busy preparing her thesis defense presentation slides, Shi Xi hadn’t eaten dinner, but she ordered some sand ginger braised chicken wings for a late-night snack.
She’d overheard Ji Lu enthusiastically recommending this to Lin Yu at the police station yesterday.
Lin Yu had dismissed it, but Shi Xi took note.
Just as she collected her order and turned around, two girls blocked her path. One of them, a meticulously dressed girl with curly hair, immediately demanded, “Lin Shi Xi, what’s your relationship with Bai Fan?”
Shi Xi studied them curiously, sensing no real malice—more like nervousness.
Especially when they met Shi Xi’s gaze, both looked visibly awkward.
Instead of answering, Shi Xi asked, “Who are you?”
The curly-haired girl grew impatient, “None of your business! I just want to know what’s going on between you and Bai Fan now!”
“If you want to know, you should ask me directly.”
A cool voice came from the side as Bai Fan approached from the campus path, carrying something.
The two girls’ expressions shifted at his words.
“B-Bai Fan!” The curly-haired girl’s pale face flushed red upon seeing him. “I asked you before, but you ignored me!”
Bai Fan replied indifferently, “Isn’t that normal? Who answers such questions from strangers?”
This clearly angered the girl. “We’re your classmates!”
As everyone knew, Bai Fan hadn’t been attending classes lately, spending all his time working to earn money.
He rarely showed up for the school band either… Rumors said he was frantically saving up to support Lin Shi Xi.
One was the class monitor, the other the psychological committee member—both also fans of Bai Fan’s band.
They’d been sent as representatives to approach Lin Shi Xi first, hoping to gather some information, never expecting to run into Bai Fan directly.
And his attitude was hostile.
Bai Fan: “Oh.”
His gaze swept past the curly-haired girl, his voice turning colder. “Does being classmates give you the right to interfere in others’ private lives?”
The girl turned pale as if heartbroken. The bespectacled girl who’d remained silent grew anxious and blurted out, “Bai Fan, that’s too harsh. We’re just looking out for you! Don’t mistake kindness for malice.”
Hearing this, Bai Fan’s eyes flashed with disgust. “Looking out for what?”
“Everyone just thinks you work too hard and should save where you can—stop pretending to be someone you’re not, donating to streamers online. Plus, people say Lin Shi Xi is scamming you, that she’s just a bloodsucking—”
“Are you that eager to mother someone?”
Bai Fan cut her off abruptly. “You’re overstepping.”
Shi Xi couldn’t help but laugh.
Anyone unaware would think they were Bai Fan’s elders, with their overly maternal tone.
Her laughter successfully drew the two girls’ ire.
Before they could speak, Shi Xi said first, “Don’t say anything. I don’t want your lectures—I’d rather be an orphan.”
Then she walked off with her takeout.
The two girls’ faces darkened instantly.
Bai Fan chuckled, ignoring them, and tugged at Shi Xi’s cane while lifting the bag in his hand. “Bubble tea and cake—bought too much. Want some?”
Without waiting for her response, he pulled her directly toward the small garden.
“Don’t grab my cane.”
Only when he heard her displeased voice did he release his grip.
Shi Xi followed him to sit on a bench in the grassy area, thinking to herself that her days at school would become even more difficult from now on.
Fortunately, she wouldn’t be staying much longer.
“How much?” Shi Xi automatically took out her phone.
Bai Fan took off his cap and leaned back against the bench, visibly relaxing. “You want to talk money with me?”
They were quite far from the streetlights here, making it difficult for her to see his expression clearly.
Shi Xi: “If not money, then what? I don’t do relationships.”
Bai Fan: “Hah.”
“You think I have time for relationships? Eat quickly if you’re going to eat.”
No sooner had he finished speaking than Shi Xi wordlessly pulled her mask down to her chin and took a sip of bubble tea.
Bai Fan: “…”
He didn’t look away, staring at her face with obvious astonishment.
Her face… had healed?
Just as Shi Xi was about to bite into her small cake, his face suddenly loomed close to hers.
She leaned back to avoid him. “What are you doing?”
Bai Fan leaned back against the bench, beginning to feel somewhat awkward as he spoke to the sky. “Why do you look different every time?”
Each time brought him not insignificant shock.
Shi Xi: “…You’re the one who looks different.”
Bai Fan picked up her braised chicken wing. “Smells good. I’ll try it.”
Since he had “bought extra” bubble tea and cake, Shi Xi didn’t stop him.
“Are you that short on money?”
Although the original host had heard he took part-time jobs for experience, she never thought he was particularly strapped for cash.
Bai Fan fixed his gaze on her, his expression turning several degrees colder. “I wasn’t originally. But after my father found out I donated to a streamer who lost both parents, he cut off my allowance.”
Shi Xi: “…” She shouldn’t have asked.
She naturally added, “Actually, I’m practically an orphan too, really. I’m not lying about that.”
Bai Fan: “…”
Undisturbed, Shi Xi ate and drank her fill before asking Bai Fan, “You’re still willing to be my friend, right?”
“Friend?” Bai Fan chewed on the word. “What about Chi Xuan? Lu Mingzhe? Are they your friends too?”
Shi Xi shook her head. “No, I’m not close with them now.”
Chi Xuan was currently feuding with his family over the Huaying Hospital matter and temporarily had no time to look for her.
Bai Fan curled his lips in a half-smile. “You’re something else. Sweetly calling someone ‘brother’ online, then unilaterally breaking up, blocking them, and disappearing all in one go. And now you still want to be friends with me?”
Shi Xi: “…Didn’t I already apologize?”
She quickly caught on. “When did I ever call you brother? You’re younger than me – you’re the one who called me sister.”
She made as if to check their chat history.
Bai Fan snatched her phone away. “Stop talking nonsense.”
He was flustered, defensive, feeling like the sky was falling.
He really had called her sister.
Him – one eighty-five centimeters tall, capable of lifting her with one hand – had called her sister!
Though at the time he’d just typed it casually without much thought, remembering it now filled him with immense shame.
Bai Fan put his cap back on, threw the phone back to her, and hurried to leave. “My friend is calling me.”
Watching his retreating back as he practically fled, Shi Xi slowly took another sip of her bubble tea.
Checkmate.
On the day of her thesis defense, Shi Xi put on formal attire and arrived early at the classroom.
Besides the evaluation committee and participating students, many spectators had come, nearly filling the classroom.
Shi Xi could tell at a glance that they were all here to watch her spectacle.
As a minor internet celebrity now, it seemed everything she did would attract a wave of attention.
Moreover, her thesis topic was AI face-swapping, and related software had already gained popularity online. Perhaps some classmates came specifically for that reason.
Walking from her seat to the podium, Shi Xi heard several bursts of laughter from the classroom.
After she stood still, spectators below began shouting loudly.
“Professor, why is she wearing a mask during her defense? It’s disrespectful.”
“Exactly, always trying to be special.”
“It’s not like we haven’t seen her real face before, haha.”
“Ugly girls always make trouble.”
Several judging professors in the front row turned to see the crowded audience and frowned.
They had heard some online comments, but they valued talent and held Lin Shi Xi in high regard.
On the podium, Shi Xi’s voice came through the microphone, polite and appropriate, “Professors, they’re disrupting my defense. May I ask them to leave?”
Her words instantly silenced the room.
The university allowed observers during defenses, but only if they didn’t cause disturbances.
What surprised everyone was Shi Xi’s boldness in making such a request directly.
The outcome was clear—all observing students were expelled.
Before beginning her presentation, Shi Xi removed her mask.
Only after the defense concluded did she quietly put it back on, indifferent to others’ gazes.
Students in her defense group initially stared at her face, but soon became captivated by her confident demeanor as she engaged in discussion with the professors.
Was this really the Lin Shi Xi they knew?
Throughout four years of university, she had often been quietly coding, researching algorithms, occasionally collaborating with them in competitions. She never complained about assigned tasks, almost as if she lacked her own opinions.
Over time, they only remembered her large, calm but dull eyes—a stark contrast to her current self.
Faint pink marks from healed scabs were still visible on her face, but they no longer detracted from her beauty.
Simply standing there without elaborate makeup, her hair casually tied back, her focused expression while answering questions commanded everyone’s attention.
Those two scars had been like sharp thorns, trapping her for many years.
Now transformed, her radiance could no longer be concealed.
Humans are visual creatures by nature, inherently admiring strength.
With Lin Shi Xi’s face nearly recovered and her evident intellect, some male students stared at her mesmerized, their hearts racing and faces flushing.
Returning to her seat, Shi Xi immediately lowered her head to message Huo Yao: “Huo Yao, Huo Yao, I’ve finished my defense.”
Huo Yao didn’t reply.
After leaving the defense classroom, she received his call.
He told her that Lan Yun, upon regaining consciousness, had confessed to her crimes.
Lan Yun’s first murder occurred on the day she was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer.
While crossing the street, she overheard a girl whispering to a companion about her strange appearance and frighteningly high cheekbones. She followed the girl home, waited until she went out alone at night, and killed her in a narrow alley.
The first killing led to the second, then the third.
Anyone who displeased her became a target for elimination.
Shi Xi felt neither sympathy nor resentment toward Lan Yun’s story.
However, Lan Yun’s existence gave her a legitimate reason to openly approach Huo Yao.
Shi Xi pulled her mask up to shield her face from the midday sun. “Then why does she want to kill me?”
Huo Yao replied, “She’s lost all reason. People who want to kill will always find an excuse.”
Shi Xi gave a noncommittal “Hmm.”
Huo Yao added, “Next time, don’t write your home address on the medical record booklet.”
Shi Xi: “…”
She responded with a more emphatic “Hmm.”
The medical record booklet from Huaying Hospital wasn’t interchangeable with the ones she’d used before—it seemed unnecessarily fancy.
When filling it out, she’d just written in every blank space without considering the risk of leaking personal information.
Shi Xi changed the subject: “Back to the main point—when are we going strawberry picking?”
Huo Yao: “…”
After everything he’d just said, strawberry picking was what she considered the main point?
“Sunday. I have half a day off.” He paused before asking, “Does that work for you?”
Shi Xi replied with restrained politeness, “It does.”
“Alright.”
With the timing settled and everything necessary said, they both fell silent.
Yet neither hung up.
After a long moment, Huo Yao cleared his throat and said, “I need to go to the interrogation room.”
Then he ended the call.
Shi Xi sent him a message: Captain, have you developed feelings for me or not?
Huo Yao, leaning against the wall in the corridor, glanced at his phone and set it down.
Then picked it up again to look.
He repeated this several times.
Finally, he typed two words: Have you?
He’d been competitive since childhood, unwilling to lose in any aspect of life.
He had his own fixed routines for work and life, and disliked having them disrupted.
That was why he’d remained single until now.
His phone vibrated.
Strawberry-picking-obsessed kid: You finally asked me!
Strawberry-picking-obsessed kid: Yes yes, I have! I definitely have!
Huo Yao gripped his phone tightly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as an indescribable emotion welled up in his chest.
He’d expected her to retreat, to conceal her feelings, but instead she’d boldly torn through the veil of ambiguity.
Some people openly pay the price for falling in love, while others guard their hearts fiercely, afraid of being tied down by another person.
“Captain, what are you doing? Time for lunch!”
Ji Lu’s booming voice snapped Huo Yao back to reality.
Huo Yao flipped his phone face down and shot him a wary glance.
Ji Lu froze—wait, did the captain have some secret?
“Captain, did your blind date work out?”
Huo Yao walked ahead, responding aloofly, “No.”
“Then why do you keep smiling at your phone?”
Huo Yao gave him a sinister look. “Was I smiling?”
Ji Lu immediately backed down. “…N-no, you weren’t.”
No one could handle the captain!