Qiao Sheng’s obsession with writing novels was closely tied to her love for wild, unfettered daydreaming and her preference for staying at home.
Her ideal life was one where she didn’t have to go out or interact with others. She could simply nestle in her own little world every day, doing the things she loved.
Writing stories, sculpting figurines, reading books, listening to music, and maybe raising a cat or a dog—that would be a perfect life.
Though she sometimes secretly drooled over handsome guys who caught her eye, she had never actually considered marriage or having children.
That kind of life felt too distant for her. She lacked the confidence to build a happy family with another man, unsure if she could ever play the roles of a wife or mother well.
Sometimes she was reckless, other times timid—like a cowardly snail, cautiously retreating into her fragile shell, lacking the courage to venture into uncertainty.
In her previous life, she had believed she would most likely grow old alone, and that mindset had carried over into this transmigrated existence.
If something as unscientific as transmigration could happen, why couldn’t she achieve her ideal life?
Besides, she still had Gu Huo!
Well, not exactly—she had Gu Huo as a safety net.
From her perspective, the likelihood of Gu Huo following the original plot and giving her a generous allowance was about eighty percent… Hmm, no, that was too optimistic. As the saying goes, the greater the hope, the greater the disappointment.
After some thought, Qiao Sheng cautiously adjusted the probability to fifty percent.
At the same time, she reminded herself not to take uncertain things too seriously. She should just focus on what she needed to do and avoid getting lost in unrealistic fantasies, wasting her life and achieving nothing.
Back to the main point—the reason Qiao Sheng hadn’t immediately turned to writing novels as a way to support herself was that it required a significant investment of time and effort upfront, with no guarantee of returns proportional to her hard work.
When faced with the choice between ideals and bread, Qiao Sheng chose bread without hesitation. Only after filling her stomach could she afford to pursue her dreams.
On the third day of handing out flyers, Qiao Sheng dressed neatly, poured a cup of hot water into her bag, and cheerfully told Gu Huo, “I’m heading out!” before stepping over the threshold and rushing toward her final day of flyer distribution before the New Year.
As she huddled with a group of elderly people waiting for the bus, she had no idea that she had been followed from the moment she left home—someone determined to track her every move in exchange for a peaceful night’s sleep.
Gu Huo hadn’t slept well the night before.
After a night of chaotic dreams and waking up startled multiple times, he finally realized just how much he had been bothered by Qiao Sheng’s mysterious comings and goings over the past two days.
He felt he had to take this seriously and figure out exactly where his roommate was going.
Otherwise, his own wild imagination wouldn’t let him rest for the entire day.
So, after she left, he waited a moment before quietly stepping out and following her at a leisurely pace.
He still had to work today—his last shift before the New Year. Tomorrow would be New Year’s Eve, and after a few days off, school would start again.
His boss, at least, remembered he was still a student and had left him a few days to catch up on homework.
Truthfully, he didn’t have much homework left. In the past, he would have asked to keep working.
He’d rather work than stay at home, facing the parasite who spent all day lying in bed.
But this time, he changed his mind. He wanted to stay home for a few days, even if it meant staying in their separate rooms without any interaction.
Gu Huo, like a complete creep, stealthily followed Qiao Sheng all the way to a dessert shop in the city center. There, a small group had gathered—men and women, old and young.
A middle-aged man at the front said something to them, then handed each person a simple bag. After that, Gu Huo watched as Qiao Sheng walked to the entrance of a mall near a trendy bubble tea shop. It was bitterly cold, and the mall had just opened. Aside from employees heading to work, there were almost no people around. She stood there alone, the bag looped over her left arm, hunching her shoulders as she stared blankly at a billboard featuring a scantily clad female celebrity.
Gu Huo was stunned.
He had imagined many possibilities.
But he never expected that Qiao Sheng would come here to hand out flyers!
Even though Qiao Sheng was different from before—she had become more polite, learned to do household chores, and occasionally tried her hand at cooking, producing meals that looked and tasted rather unimpressive—in his heart, she was still that delicate, pampered girl who couldn’t handle hardship.
This scene hit him too hard. Gu Huo stood frozen for so long that he didn’t even notice someone approaching him.
“Young man, I see you can’t take your eyes off her. Could it be you’ve taken a liking to that girl?”
It was a kind-faced middle-aged man, teasing Gu Huo without any malice.
Gu Huo flustered and glanced nervously toward Qiao Sheng.
He was about four or five meters away, barely concealed by some cover, but he was still afraid she might notice him.
He instinctively thought, She’s so concerned about her pride. If she finds out I’ve seen her like this, will she get angry?
Besides, how could he explain why he was here?
The middle-aged man chuckled, growing even more convinced of his own assumption. He lowered his voice and said, “Good taste. Don’t let that girl’s delicate and pretty appearance fool you—she’s incredibly hardworking. In this freezing weather where you can barely stretch out your hand, she’s been handing out flyers for three days straight. Nowadays, it’s not easy to find a girl as tough and capable as her.”
Gu Huo’s mind buzzed.
So Qiao Sheng had started this two days ago?
While he was in his warm, spring-like shop, listening to his coworkers complain about how cold it still was even after spring had arrived, silently agreeing with them… Qiao Sheng had been standing alone in the biting wind, handing out flyer after flyer to passersby…
It felt as though an invisible needle had pricked Gu Huo’s heart, and it clenched painfully.
In his ears, the middle-aged man in charge of distributing the flyers sighed, “Being able to endure hardship is good, but if she were my daughter, I wouldn’t have the heart to let her suffer like this.”
Gu Huo silently watched the girl who was still staring blankly at the billboard, his heart heavy and unsettled.
An impulse surged within him—to rush over to Qiao Sheng, throw the flyers in her hand into the trash, pull her back home, and tell her that he was here to provide for the family, that she didn’t need to suffer like this.
It was strange, really. He had done flyer distribution work before—sweating in the heat, freezing in the cold, nearly suffering heatstroke in summer, and having his fingers swell from the cold in winter. When he endured hardship himself, he never thought much of it. But when it came to Qiao Sheng, it suddenly felt unacceptable.
After a moment of internal struggle, Gu Huo took one last deep look at the girl, who was now hugging a thick stack of flyers and hopping on her feet to amuse herself. In the end, he pretended he had never been there, turned around, and left.
But his emotions remained turbulent. His body was elsewhere, but his heart was still with her. Whenever he had a moment to spare, the image of that solitary figure would resurface in his mind.