The “sister” that came through the phone not only made Jiang Fu choke—it also made her heart give a sudden jolt.
Unlike the previous bouts of discomfort, this time what she felt was something strange… and warm.
She asked the black cat through her mind, “…What’s going on?”
“What?” The black cat leaned closer to sense it, then suddenly understood. “Oh, I get it. It’s probably because this Jiang Fu has developed goodwill toward you. She’s the real Jiang Fu from the main storyline, and you’re the extra, the outsider. If she feels favor toward you, then on another level she’s acknowledging your existence. That might lessen the world’s rejection of you.”
Jiang Fu raised a brow. It could work like that?
The black cat swept its tail across the tabletop and said confidently, “It has to be. Even though you’re the villain, in the original story your strength, your status, your glory, your fortune—everything about you is incredibly powerful. Even the male and female protagonists might not surpass you. So acknowledgment from ‘you’ is quite valuable.”
The black cat grinned slyly. “Well? Touched?”
Jiang Fu replied lightly, “Is gaining my own goodwill really such an impressive achievement?”
That was what she said—but her mood was undeniably improving.
Because of that lighter mood, a trace of brightness entered her voice as well. “As for the men in the other bases—I was planning that anyway. After all, if only the men in Fu’an Base run into trouble, people will think the feng shui here is bad.”
The Jiang Fu on the other end laughed. “Right? Right? That’s what I was thinking too. Want me to give you a list?”
Jiang Fu was just about to respond when the café door was pushed open. A girl with twin braids walked in, carrying a basket of flowers, greeting the shop owner with a bright smile.
She was a very beautiful, radiant girl. But when Jiang Fu saw her, the smile on her own face slowly faded.
The black cat followed her gaze. “What, another enemy? You really do have a lot of enemies.”
Jiang Fu watched coldly as the girl said something to the shop owner, set down the flowers, and left with a bag of something in her hand.
Through the soundproof barrier, the shop owner’s voice drifted faintly over. “That girl runs a little flower nursery. She brings fresh flowers every day in exchange for coffee grounds—says coffee grounds are great for growing flowers.”
A customer said, “She’s such a bright and generous girl.”
“Right? She’s especially kind. She’s taken in lots of small animals. Very compassionate.”
But Jiang Fu’s thoughts had already drifted far away—to the time just after she had been cast into a bronze statue.
Back then, the hatred toward her had been overwhelming. Every day someone would pour filth over the statue. Nearly everyone who passed by would spit at it, as a sign of their disdain.
They were all people from Fu’an Base. Some of them were familiar faces—some had even sworn they would follow her forever.
She watched their twisted, ugly expressions with cold detachment, telling herself not to care. But in truth, she found it very hard to accept.
It was for these people that she had given up the chance to self-detonate. She had offered up her own crystal core as the price in exchange for the possibility of a peaceful transfer of power at the base.
Every moment, she tortured herself with the same question: Was it worth it?
If she had detonated herself back then, she could at least have taken half of the ambushers with her. Most importantly, without a body left behind, she would not have had to endure such humiliation.
The moment she made that decision, she had already given up her dignity after death. For a high-level ability user, that was almost the greatest price one could pay.
So how could she not feel wronged?
The girl who had just delivered flowers had once been a rare sliver of comfort.
She used to come every night, place a flower, and quietly wipe the dirt from the bronze statue.
In a low voice she would say, “It’s because of you that I have a stable life. I’ve always remembered your kindness. But there are too many of them. I’m insignificant. I don’t dare speak up for you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
At first she came every night. Later, once every few days. Then once a month. The flowers she brought changed too—from dew-fresh blossoms to wilted ones, and eventually to dried flowers.
After that, she stopped coming altogether. The flowers disappeared completely.
The next time Jiang Fu saw her, it was during the day. She came with companions—and together they kicked, cursed, and struck the statue, throwing all kinds of trash and filth at it.
At first there had still been guilt and unease in her eyes. But very soon she let go of that completely, striking even more fiercely than her companions.
And that sliver of comfort turned into spoiled cake, stuck in her throat, sickening.
There was not just one such person—there were many.
They spoke of gratitude toward Jiang Fu, said they remembered her kindness. But they also claimed they were too weak, powerless to do anything.
More often, they blended into the crowd and joined those around them in spitting on the statue, splashing dirty water, shouting for her death.
Sometimes Jiang Fu wondered whether their secret words of thanks had truly been gratitude—or whether it was merely a way to ease their own guilt, to make themselves feel better.
As if once they had said those words, they no longer owed her anything. As if accounts were settled, debts cleared—and they could then join the ranks condemning her with a clear conscience.
She would rather the whole world hate her blindly than see that kind of gratitude. It was as if it told her: Look, it’s not that you never received sincerity. It’s just that this sincerity is nothing more than this.
Jiang Fu turned her head to look at the sky outside the window. Her eyes felt dry.
The black cat was startled. “You… are you crying?”
“No.” Her empty eye sockets held not the slightest trace of warmth. She had no tears.
She simply felt—it wasn’t worth it.
The version of herself who had once given so much to these people was not worth it. The effort spent on taking revenge was not worth it. Love was not worth it. Hate was not worth it. Living was not worth it. Dying was even less worth it.
All of it felt filthy and cheap, false and fickle. It was not worth investing any more emotion or attention into any of it. And yet, she could not bring herself to let it go.
She was going mad.
She had gone mad long ago.
Driven mad by everyone in this world.
Jiang Fu closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, only a crimson calm remained. She calmly watched the girl’s departing figure.
I may be trapped. But if I cannot be free, what right do you have to live well?
Lowering her head, she realized at some point she had crushed her phone in her hand. The call had long since ended.
She had no interest in getting another phone to call back. She was afraid she wouldn’t be able to control herself—that she might drag the version of herself here down into that twisted abyss as well.
“Let’s go.”
The black cat asked cautiously, “Where to?”
“I’ll go see Mom one more time. Then I’ll leave Teyun and go find an old friend.”
…
Jiang Fu stared anxiously at her phone. Why had the call suddenly cut off?
What happened?
Just before it disconnected, she had felt the terrifying, extreme emotions transmitted from the other end.
Like someone in the cold depths of the sea, drowning over and over again, only to briefly revive each time—unable to fully die, unable to truly live—trapped in a dark, cold, crushing, sealed abyss without the faintest hope of release.
It was a kind of ultimate pain and madness.
For that instant, she had felt as if she were suffocating too, sharing the same anguish.
She shot to her feet. No—she had to find the other person.
She seemed to have heard something about coffee grounds and a flower bed in the background. So it must be a café nearby with a flower bed.
In her mind, she rapidly ran through the map of the central district. Her powerful mental force sifted through the complex data at high speed, and she quickly pinpointed the location.
She immediately rushed out.