Gu Liuguang truly didn’t want to talk to Lin Shixia at that moment, but upon closer thought, Lin Shixia didn’t know what the Original Plot was, nor did she know that she lived in a false world.
There wasn’t much point in taking it out on Lin Shixia.
Gu Liuguang sighed heavily in her heart and began to worry. She kept urging the System to report back to the Main System, emphasizing most importantly that this wasn’t her fault.
The plot collapse and world restart were all the System’s responsibility.
She remembered something and added, “I already said before that when Zhang Xibai deviated from her character setting, it was clearly the Main System’s problem. They should have checked this world thoroughly back then.”
The System knew she was just panicking over the fear of her soul being erased, so it simply hummed in agreement a few times and repeatedly assured her that none of this had anything to do with her.
The System comforted her: 【Don’t worry. Even if the mission fails, you won’t be erased immediately. It’s usually judged based on mission completion progress. Only hosts who are truly incapable of succeeding and have no return channel to carry their soul will be erased.】
What they called erasure was really just letting her fend for herself.
Gu Liuguang didn’t feel any better about it. It was just the difference between dying early or late.
After an intense internal struggle in her mind, Gu Liuguang noticed Lin Shixia acting like a little kitty ignored by its owner, desperately seeking attention. She made little noises from time to time and even patted Gu Liuguang’s arm.
Whenever she touched Gu Liuguang, Gu Liuguang let out a loud annoyed sound, and Lin Shixia immediately fell silent. But before long, there were rustling noises again as she did who-knows-what.
Once her anger subsided a bit, Gu Liuguang began reviewing her mission progress. It wasn’t slow, but it certainly wasn’t fast either.
The issue with Zhang Xibai had arisen first. For some reason, Lin Shixia still hadn’t come to her livestream to draw in popularity.
Thinking about it, she suddenly realized she hadn’t seen Zhang Xibai for a while—not even any WeChat messages. She had even wondered if she’d accidentally blocked her and thus missed them.
She had worried before that Zhang Xibai might do something extreme and wreck the main plotline. In the end, after ignoring her for a while, the main plotline did collapse, but that was because of Lin Shixia.
If Lin Shixia weren’t right there beside her, Gu Liuguang would have grabbed her phone to check what Zhang Xibai was up to.
With the System in her mind, she asked without much hope: 【Can you check what Zhang Xibai is doing?】
System: 【That would be invading privacy. We can’t do that.】
Gu Liuguang: ……
Gu Liuguang didn’t dwell on it. No matter how she looked at it, Zhang Xibai might have gone quiet, but she wasn’t in any danger.
At least Gu Liuguang hadn’t seen Zhang Xibai’s name on any Hot Searches or legal news.
In the best-case scenario, maybe Zhang Xibai’s character setting had suddenly normalized, and she was secretly in love with Lin Shixia.
Unable to sort out Zhang Xibai’s situation, Gu Liuguang set it aside for now and recalled how she had connected with Lin Shixia on her own.
She had originally thought she’d need to scheme to meet her first, then take things slowly.
Unexpectedly, it had been such a coincidence—Lin Shixia had appeared in the same mall and even run into her in the restroom.
Thinking up to that point, Gu Liuguang paused.
The System asked cautiously: 【What’s wrong?】
Gu Liuguang felt something was off everywhere. Was there really such a coincidence?
Suppressing the unease in her heart, even more suspicious was how Lin Shixia seemed to fall for her at first sight, treating her overly well. She hadn’t asked a single question before bringing her home, and afterward, she never mentioned anything about fans.
Was this a bug in the world?
Aside from meeting Lin Shixia, Zhang Xibai’s fluctuations had caused some ripples, but in other aspects, her mission progress had been quite fast.
In less than a week, she had confirmed her relationship with Lin Shixia. After returning to A City, in another week or so, she had gotten Lin Shixia to pay the breach-of-contract penalty and even spent her down to near bankruptcy.
It was uncertain if she had truly gone bankrupt, but so far, it seemed not.
Now, she had already started her livestreaming career in C City. The problem was she hadn’t decided which platform to sign with yet.
She could sign right now by registering an account on a platform, completing real-name verification, and starting to stream. But she wanted to reach the position of Platform Top Anchor. If she streamed honestly like that, it would take until the year of the monkey and month of the horse.
At this thought, Gu Liuguang paused oddly. If she dragged this mission out indefinitely, wouldn’t she be able to stay in this world for a long time? If she played it right, she could linger for decades—what a worthwhile trip.
But she quickly rejected the idea as soon as it surfaced.
The mission was always a sword hanging over her head. Once she lost her plot influence, Lin Shixia wouldn’t truly love her. What would be the point then?
Gaining fans was slow, but it wasn’t as if she were slacking off on the mission. So why had Lin Shixia suddenly broken character?
Having lain on her side too long, Gu Liuguang felt uncomfortable and rolled over. She saw Lin Shixia sitting on the bed with one leg tucked under her, watching her.
The room lights were dim. Lin Shixia’s hair wasn’t tied up; it draped over her shoulders and chest. She didn’t have bangs, so her full forehead was exposed.
Compared to the standard beauty proportions of perfect facial thirds and fifths, her eyes were exceptionally beautiful, as if they could speak. One smile from her could infect others, making them smile unconsciously and lifting their mood.
Now, those eyes that usually sparkled with laughter drooped at the corners, red-rimmed. Her thick lashes were wet and clumped together, like the soul of a resentful, unloved being silently shedding tears there.
As if she hadn’t expected Gu Liuguang to turn over suddenly, a flash of panic crossed Lin Shixia’s face before quickly vanishing. Only her eyes kept blinking, tears falling with each blink, dripping onto her leg.
Lin Shixia: “Liuguang, please don’t be mad anymore…”
Gu Liuguang looked at those crying eyes and felt a heaviness in her chest. After a long while, she finally spoke: “Don’t cry.”
Lin Shixia froze for a moment, wiped her eyes, and forced a smile: “I’m not crying. It’s just… just that some sand got in my eyes earlier.”
She quickly rubbed her eyes and damp cheeks with the back of her hand, then tried to turn away so Gu Liuguang couldn’t see.
Gu Liuguang sighed inwardly, sat up from the bed, grabbed the facial tissue box from the nightstand, pulled out a sheet, and handed it to Lin Shixia.
Lin Shixia stopped her initial panic and hesitantly took the tissue. She gently wiped around her eyes, then her face.
After a few seconds, she asked sullenly: “Does Liuguang hate seeing me cry?”
Gu Liuguang zoned out for a moment. She thought of the first time she had touched Lin Shixia’s tears and shook her head: “No.”
Lin Shixia looked up at her, and the tears fell again uncontrollably. She hurriedly grabbed another tissue and wiped them messily.
Soon, it was impossible to tell if the tissue’s dampness was from its own moisture or the weight of Lin Shixia’s tears.
Her nose tip was red. Gu Liuguang couldn’t bear to watch anymore. She sat up straight, pulled Lin Shixia into her arms, patted her back, and said helplessly: “Alright, I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”
She thought somewhat helplessly that between her and Lin Shixia, who was more like the public figure? She cared more about Lin Shixia’s career path than Lin Shixia did.
Lin Shixia naturally leaned into her shoulder. Her tears quickly soaked the fabric there. Her voice choked: “Sorry, I got your clothes wet.”
Gu Liuguang: “……It’s fine.”
Because of their height difference, to let Lin Shixia lean steadily on her shoulder, Gu Liuguang had to keep her back ramrod straight. Even then, standing straight on the bed, Lin Shixia still had to hunch over a bit.
The scene was a little funny. Gu Liuguang held back her laugh—laughing now would be terribly inappropriate.
With the comfort, Lin Shixia felt much better. She was still reluctant to leave Gu Liuguang’s embrace, slightly turning her head. Her eyes fell on Gu Liuguang’s slender, pale neck.
Because she was so slim, there was a small hollow further down that made people want to kiss it.
Lin Shixia unconsciously licked her lips. She felt a bit thirsty.
Hot breaths kept brushing over her neck. Gu Liuguang hesitated, wanting to ask if Lin Shixia could move away first, when she heard Lin Shixia’s muffled voice. Any question died in her throat.
“Liuguang, don’t be mad. Actually, I didn’t confess our relationship to everyone.” Lin Shixia said, “I only said that it might be me.”
Gu Liuguang: ……
For a moment, all sorts of emotions surged in her chest.
It took Gu Liuguang a good while to recover. She thought, oh, no wonder she hadn’t been erased—it was because she hadn’t come out.
No public announcement meant her character setting hadn’t collapsed yet. Lin Shixia was still the old Lin Shixia.
Even without saying such words, Gu Liuguang was still angry. But afraid Lin Shixia would shed tears alone there, she couldn’t say anything too harsh. In the end, she could only earnestly admonish her.
“Did you forget? I said before that I want my girlfriend to be a big star standing on the award stage. Don’t go full lovebrain and blurt everything out without thinking.”
Lin Shixia stayed silent, just tightening her arms around Gu Liuguang and occasionally hiccuping.
“And those collaborations of yours—the crew already changed the male lead once. Do you want them to change you too? The director might really go insane.”
Gu Liuguang recalled that director and thought that insane or not, she wouldn’t feel the slightest guilt.
“What about your assistant and manager? What are they supposed to do?” Gu Liuguang tired after talking for a bit. She didn’t know much about this anyway, but Lin Shixia didn’t seem like she’d snap out of her lovebrain mode. She tried a few more sentences: “If you don’t care about others, at least care about yourself, right?”
“If you don’t like acting, why enter this industry in the first place?”
She had figured it out—Lin Shixia’s little aunt was very wealthy. Even if Lin Shixia had no money herself, she wouldn’t end up destitute or down and out. As long as Gu Shuang was around, Lin Shixia probably wouldn’t lack roles either.
She just couldn’t understand why, with such a rich family, she had to run off to the entertainment industry.