On the bus ride back, Qiao Sheng was gazing absentmindedly at the streets growing increasingly festive with the New Year atmosphere when she received the second phone call from Gu Huo that day.
“Are you back yet? We’re out of soy sauce at home. If it’s convenient, could you bring a bottle up?”
Hearing that she was already on her way back, Gu Huo, who had been standing on the balcony looking out, quietly breathed a sigh of relief.
With rare free time on his hands, Gu Huo had taken the opportunity to catch up on his winter break homework. Usually focused in everything he did, he found himself unusually distracted, frequently straining his ears to listen for any movement outside the door or in the hallway. Each time, he thought it was Qiao Sheng returning, but again and again, it wasn’t her.
Fortunately, school assignments were as easy for a top student like him as solving one plus one. He could write the answers with his eyes closed, so multitasking didn’t hinder him at all.
Yet his mind grew increasingly restless, peaking as the sky outside darkened.
For what felt like the umpteenth time, he picked up his second-hand phone. He didn’t dare casually ask about Qiao Sheng’s whereabouts, afraid she might find him annoying or that it would disrupt the harmonious peace they now shared.
But her absence had shattered the composure he prided himself on. His heart felt as if it had grown wings, flying out through the cracks in the window, searching everywhere for traces of her.
Wondering what she was doing, who she was with, and when she would return…
She was Grandma’s own granddaughter, and he had promised to take good care of her. If anything were to happen to her, how could he ever face Grandma in the afterlife?
After much deliberation, he came up with a clumsy excuse.
The bus slowed to a stop at each station, a gentle mechanical voice announcing the station names and reminding passengers to alight in time.
Qiao Sheng pulled her legs in to let the passenger seated further inside pass by, then asked softly, “Besides soy sauce, is there anything else you need me to buy?”
The answer was no.
Qiao Sheng said okay.
Before hanging up, Gu Huo added, “I’ll transfer some money to you.”
After the alighting passengers had disembarked, the bus swayed gently as it set off again. The next stop was Qiao Sheng’s destination.
Qiao Sheng politely declined, “No need, I have money.”
And from now on, she could keep earning money steadily.
Her clay artwork had passed the review by the Creative Clay Studio. Starting tomorrow, she could produce clay crafts for the studio. The studio would provide the materials, and she would receive fifty percent of the payment for each piece.
Originally, the studio had offered a forty-sixty split, with her taking forty percent and the studio sixty. But Qiao Sheng, adopting a “nothing ventured, nothing gained” mindset, bargained with them, pitifully explaining that she was still a student and might have to drop out if she couldn’t earn her tuition fees.
Whether it was her plea that moved them to compassion or her skills were genuinely decent, they eventually agreed.
She received an image of the New Year’s zodiac horse—a chubby, cartoonish figure carrying a large ingot, squinting and smiling at people, radiating festive cheer.
It was a best-selling item in the shop. Due to its simple craftsmanship and small size, it was relatively affordable at twenty yuan each.
The person in charge asked her to make ten first, preferably within three days. Payment would be settled after the items passed inspection.
Oh, and about the figurine she made yesterday—the studio said they would purchase it if there were no flaws, to sell as a unique piece in the shop.
The offered price was twenty-five yuan.
This job was much better than handing out flyers—working from home, sheltered from wind and rain.
But tomorrow, Qiao Sheng would still go.
She had just started working with the studio and was still in the trial period. The person in charge tentatively gave her some simple, easy-to-handle tasks, not daring to entrust her with customers’ private custom orders yet.
She couldn’t just drop the flyer distribution job because she had other ways to earn money.
Distributing flyers didn’t conflict with molding clay—she could deliver the goods within the specified time.
She needed to earn more money during the winter break.
Getting off at her stop, she went to the store to buy the soy sauce Gu Huo had specified. Browsing the dazzling array of shelves for a moment, she “splurged” on a jar of beef sauce to go with steamed buns.
While checking out, it suddenly occurred to her—wasn’t there still half a bottle of soy sauce left at home?
She must have misremembered; otherwise, Gu Huo wouldn’t have asked her to buy a new one.
Next to the supermarket was a menswear store, where a tall plastic male mannequin wore a stylish spring jacket.
Qiao Sheng stared at the jacket for a few moments, inexplicably reminded of Gu Huo’s worn-out secondhand clothes with frayed cuffs.
An idea popped into her head and immediately took firm root in her mind.
She wanted to buy Gu Huo a jacket—not to please him as the male lead, nor to make up for the original host’s mistakes, nor even to thank him for his meticulous care over the years.
She simply felt that Gu Huo shouldn’t always shortchange himself. He had the right to wear new clothes.
Qiao Sheng gazed at the menswear store’s display window, silently calculating.
She originally had a little over four hundred left, plus her earnings from the past two days, totaling six hundred.
Without considering brands, that was more than enough to buy a decent jacket.
Qiao Sheng made up her mind: after distributing flyers tomorrow, she’d visit the menswear store.
But she was a bit worried—what if her taste was off and Gu Huo didn’t like what she bought?
Never mind, she’d buy it first and figure it out later.
As she approached the building where they lived, she suddenly sensed something and looked up sharply. She could vaguely make out clothes still hanging on the balcony, not yet taken in.
She hurried into the dimly lit stairwell and stomped her foot heavily. The faulty motion-sensor light flickered to life, casting a dim yellow glow.
Gu Huo retreated from the balcony.
Over the phone, he had heard the mechanical voice announcing the bus stop. Based on his estimation, including the time for Qiao Sheng to buy soy sauce, twenty minutes should have been enough.
Yet twenty minutes had passed, the sky had completely darkened, and Qiao Sheng was still nowhere to be seen.
He stood on the balcony, looking out, and finally spotted a familiar figure. His unsettled heart finally settled back into place.
After dinner, Qiao Sheng efficiently washed up and retreated into her room, not coming out again.
Gu Huo looked at the closed door and silently returned to his own room.
No endless household chores, no bossy demands, no complaints that grated on his ears.
In their current state, they had truly become roommates who didn’t disturb each other.
That was fine.
Qiao Sheng enthusiastically switched into work mode. The studio had assigned her ten pieces to produce, and she completed six in one night!
She had always enjoyed handicrafts. As she molded the clay, she let her imagination run wild, elaborating on the flashes of inspiration she’d had while distributing flyers during the day. She conjured up a thrilling story full of love, hate, and dramatic twists. Whenever she thought of something particularly brilliant, she jotted it down in her phone’s memo app, saving it as material for her future novel writing.
That’s right—Qiao Sheng had no intention of distributing flyers or processing clay crafts for others forever.
Before her transmigration, aside from being an exploited and insignificant laborer, she had another hidden identity—a writer!
…Ahem, calling her a writer was far too flattering. At best, she was a stubborn author who had written a few flop novels, later barely managing to achieve some modest success that gave her a glimpse of hope.