Chapter 65 Part 1

“Everyone, study on your own for now. I’ll take Lu to the hospital and contact a teacher to cover the class later.”

The classroom remained utterly silent. Students watched quietly as Jiang Li helped Lu Chaohuan lean against her, only to let out collective hisses of sympathy before shrinking back, afraid to disturb them.

Jiang Li locked the noise from the classroom behind the door. She looked down at Lu Chaohuan, who lay limp and weak in her arms, and furrowed her brow. She pressed her forehead against Lu Chaohuan’s temple once more.

She needed to decide whether to take Lu Chaohuan to the campus clinic or straight to a proper hospital outside.

Worried that Lu Chaohuan’s fever was too severe and the campus clinic might just send them to a regular hospital anyway, Jiang Li made up her mind.

“Chaohuan, Chaohuan…” Jiang Li called softly over and over, trying to rouse Lu Chaohuan’s dazed consciousness. But the girl leaning against her shoulder and neck showed no response.

Gritting her teeth, Jiang Li scooped Lu Chaohuan up into her arms and headed downstairs. The girl in her embrace felt as light as a piece of paper—one touch, and it was all bones.

She really hadn’t been taking care of herself at all.

Jiang Li’s gaze darkened with anger as she glanced down at Lu Chaohuan’s face. Just last time they’d met, she’d specifically told her to look after her health. Clearly, the words had gone in one ear and out the other.

As furious as Jiang Li felt, she had nowhere else to take the fragile, unconscious girl curled in her arms right now. She headed to the campus clinic first.

“Forty-degree fever. If she’d arrived any later, her brain might have been fried,” the doctor said with the usual concern of a medical professional as Lu Chaohuan was placed on the bed.

Jiang Li’s brows knitted into deep furrows like little mountains. She had known Lu Chaohuan had a high fever, but she hadn’t realized it was this bad. If they’d finished that class, she probably would have ended up in the emergency room.

“I’ll go grab the meds for the IV. Why don’t you notify her counselor for now?”

Jiang Li nodded. “Thanks, Doctor. I’ll contact her counselor right away.”

With a fever this bad, she needed fluids and constant care. But Jiang Li’s current body had other matters to handle.

Should she leave her in the care of Lu Chaohuan’s roommates? Jiang Li thought of the girlfriend who had stayed glued to her side, playing games even while Lu Chaohuan burned up with fever. She pinched the bridge of her nose, uneasy.

Forget it. She’d stay and watch over her herself.

“123, bring Yun Chu’s body here.” Standing outside the room, Jiang Li spoke to 123 as if making a phone call, instructing it to bring Yun Chu over.

She wanted Yun Chu to stay and watch Lu Chaohuan while 123 took her body to handle those unfinished tasks.

123 considered how Lu Chaohuan might feel waking up from her delirium to see her rival first. It arrived so quickly that even Jiang Li was startled.

The body had been stored in the System anyway, so its swift appearance wasn’t surprising. Jiang Li recovered quickly and dragged Yun Chu into the bathroom.

They swapped consciousnesses.

Yun Chu steadied her slightly dizzy head and instructed 123 to take her body and finish up the remaining tasks. Then she returned to Lu Chaohuan’s bedside in Yun Chu’s body.

She completely ignored the hint of schadenfreude on her own face.

The doctor had clearly already been by. An IV bag now hung beside Lu Chaohuan’s bed, and she remained deep in slumber with no sign of waking.

Yun Chu pulled up a chair next to the side where Lu Chaohuan had her needle inserted. She wanted to hear any soft calls if she woke and keep an eye on the drip.

Her porcelain-smooth white skin was flushed with illness, her long curls pressed quietly beneath her, and a thin sheen of sweat beaded on her pale forehead.

The shadows of her long, curled lashes lightly veiled her eyelids. Those usually sly eyes were peacefully closed, and the lips that loved to pout were sealed, their color pale.

The butterfly that normally danced gracefully had lost its wings and now lay weakly on the sickbed. Seeing her so helpless, Yun Chu felt any lingering anger evaporate.

She carefully took Lu Chaohuan’s fingertips from the bed and pinched them gently in her palm. Yun Chu’s gaze softened, and her voice matched it.

“Why get mad at me and not take care of your own body…”

She let out a long sigh. Today, Lu Chaohuan had entered the classroom without greeting her. Yun Chu could tell she was upset to some degree.

Though she had no idea what sparked the anger—and she probably never would—it had to be her own fault somehow. After all, she was like a little sister, and little sisters got mad over trivial things.

Jiang Li had specifically summoned this body here, worried that Lu Chaohuan might get even angrier if she woke from her fever without seeing her.

Yun Chu’s soft murmurs naturally didn’t reach the sleeping girl on the bed. Otherwise, she might have snapped back sharply and blamed it on something else entirely.

Meanwhile, the unconscious Lu Chaohuan hadn’t fully lost awareness. Instead, she stood wide awake in a chaotic void.

A hazy fog enveloped her surroundings, murky and indistinct, impossible to discern clearly. It was thick, heavy, oppressive.

It rolled toward her in dark waves, full of menace.

But Lu Chaohuan didn’t panic—at least, not once she made out the face across from her.

In this chaotic space stood someone with her exact same features, save for a pair of crimson eyes.

After surveying her surroundings, Lu Chaohuan spoke first. “So, you’re another me?”

Her tone was flat, showing no surprise at the identical appearance. If anything, she reacted more harshly to those red eyes.

Someone with Lu Chaohuan’s temperament would only feel disgust toward another version of herself in this world—disgust at her uniqueness being challenged, without a shred of pity.

“Another me?”

If Lu Chaohuan had kept up some pretense, the other woman’s response dripped with utter disdain. It wasn’t in her expression, but in the sheer dismissiveness of her voice.

The red-eyed woman had no desire to waste words on this identical copy. She simply waved a hand, and the fog surged around them.

As Lu Chaohuan’s expression twisted unpleasantly, the encroaching mist carried a hypnotic effect. She fought desperately to stay conscious but collapsed anyway.

Watching Lu Chaohuan’s awareness fade, the red-eyed woman curved her lips in a faint hook, a clear spark of delight in her eyes. Amid the swirling black mist around her, an incongruously tender affection flickered in her cold gaze.

“Li Li…”

The soft murmur escaped her lips. Then the red-eyed woman dissolved into the space, leaving only Lu Chaohuan wrapped in the black mist on the ground, her eyes closed in deep sleep.

The girl on the bed quietly opened her eyes, a red gleam flashing through them.

Pure white ceiling, plain blanket covering her—this was the hospital setup she hadn’t seen in ages, the one she despised most.

Yet now, it was her key to seeing Jiang Li.

Lu Chaohuan sensed her fingertips gripped in a palm, soft skin pressed to the back of her hand. She turned her dark pupils slowly, her gaze landing on a round head of hair.

The color was familiar, but not Jiang Li’s. Lu Chaohuan had absorbed the body’s memories and confirmed it.

Since it wasn’t Jiang Li, Lu Chaohuan yanked her fingers free with force, her expression icy cold. She gave no thought to how she’d been sleeping while the other held her hand.

Her abrupt motion was rough—Yun Chu had only been dozing lightly and woke instantly.

Vigilantly clutching the hand in hers, Yun Chu looked up quickly at Lu Chaohuan’s face. She met a pair of cold, empty eyes and froze for a moment before snapping back.

“Chaohuan, how are you feeling? Any better?”

Chaohuan?

In Lu Chaohuan’s accessed memories, this face was a total stranger—though the hair color rang a faint bell. Yet she called her name so intimately.

Narrowing her eyes, Lu Chaohuan spoke softly. “Sister, I want some water.”

Yun Chu didn’t register it at first. She turned to rummage for a disposable cup in the room, oblivious to Lu Chaohuan’s every move behind her.

A small wisp of black mist rose in Lu Chaohuan’s palm. With a light flick, she sent it toward the stranger, watching its reaction intently.

No rejection at all. It merged seamlessly.

Found you.

A pleased curve touched her lips. A deep glint slid through Lu Chaohuan’s eyes, and a suppressed chuckle rumbled in her throat. The cold emptiness in her gaze melted like spring ice.

After searching for so long, she had finally found her.

Layered obsession welled up in her eyes. Lu Chaohuan studied the unfamiliar back and quickly pieced together 123 and Jiang Li’s scheme.

She understood that this data construct was Jiang Li’s official girlfriend in this world. Her hand clenched around the black mist, itching to act. A fierce glint flashed in her eyes.

Even if it was just data, she wouldn’t allow anyone besides herself to have Jiang Li.

Destroy this body, and Jiang Li could simply return to her original one. It wouldn’t affect her at all.

The more she thought, the more her hand twitched with eagerness.

“Alright, let me help you sit up and drink.”

Just as she prepared to strike, Yun Chu leaned over with the warm water. The familiar faint scent made Lu Chaohuan’s body go soft, the ferocity in her eyes easing.

Enraptured obsession wound through her gaze, fixed unabashedly on that face. Yun Chu set the warm water aside and moved to prop her up properly.

Lu Chaohuan wasted no time. She reached out and yanked Yun Chu into a tight embrace, rubbing against her fiercely. She buried her face in that small patch of softness—a tangible warmth she hadn’t felt in centuries.

So fragrant, so sweet, so long since they’d met.

This was real heat, not the endless repetitions of her dreams. Lu Chaohuan clutched her tighter, centuries of pent-up longing shaking her unshakable emotions.