◎You’re Not Liang Shi, Are You?◎
“What is Bad Luck Value?” Liang Shi asked in her mind, hoping the System would answer.
But it didn’t.
The atmosphere in the room had frozen over. The sisters sat fuming at each other.
It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
“And what’s a Level-One Penalty?” Liang Shi tried again.
The System remained silent.
Unease gnawed at Liang Shi. She scanned every corner of the room, confirming there was no fourth person present and the windows were tightly shut. Nobody was going to climb in through the window.
Just as her anxiety peaked, Xu Qingya’s crisp voice broke the silence: “Liang Shi, your hand…”
Liang Shi raised her hand. A long, deep gash ran across her palm, blood seeping from the wound and forming droplets that fell to the floor. She hadn’t felt the pain until she saw it, but now that she looked, it felt as though her flesh had been sliced open by a blade, and the voice kept replaying in her head.
It was a double torment of body and mind.
Was this the Level-One Penalty?
Liang Shi’s frown deepened. She’d been injured plenty on film sets and knew first aid from experience. Her first reaction upon seeing blood was to hide her hand behind her back, curling her fingers into her palm. But it hurt too much to close her fist.
She smiled weakly. “It’s fine. You two talk. I’ll go take care of this.”
“You look hurt pretty badly.” Xu Qingya leaned over with worry. “I’ll come with you.”
“No need. Stay and chat with your sister.” Liang Shi said. “I’ll find a pharmacy and get it bandaged.”
She glanced at Xu Qingzhu and found her watching with searching eyes.
Their gazes met.
Liang Shi looked away first.
The wound on her palm wasn’t entirely mysterious. On the night she’d arrived, to avoid marking the Omega in heat and to keep herself lucid, she had sliced her palm open with a utility knife.
But that cut hadn’t been this long or deep.
The doctors had already bandaged it. A bandaid was all she had.
Liang Shi’s palm throbbed with pain. She turned to leave, not forgetting to remind them: “Call me when you’re done talking.”
Before she could step out, Xu Qingzhu stood and said in her cool, clear voice: “I’ll come with you.”
Liang Shi refused. “No need.”
But Xu Qingzhu didn’t listen. She stepped forward and took Liang Shi’s uninjured hand. “Let’s go.”
An Omega’s hands were smaller than an Alpha’s, and Xu Qingzhu was slim. Those cool fingers slipped into Liang Shi’s palm without warning, fingertips pressing against the center of her hand.
The palm burned suddenly.
Liang Shi turned to look at Xu Qingzhu.
Among Omegas, Xu Qingzhu was tall at 166 centimeters, while Liang Shi stood at 173.
Now Xu Qingzhu tilted her chin up slightly. A smile bloomed across her cool features, her eyes curving into crescent moons. Her fingertips traced lightly across Liang Shi’s palm as she softened her voice deliberately: “I’ll come with you.”
Liang Shi’s ears turned scarlet.
She’d held hands during filming before, but it felt nothing like this.
She even had the fleeting illusion that this was her girlfriend.
That they would love each other for a lifetime, growing old together.
“Come on.” When Liang Shi didn’t move, Xu Qingzhu tugged her arm. “What are you standing there for?”
Liang Shi snapped back to reality. “Okay.”
//
The wind outside was strong, as if a downpour were imminent.
The breeze cleared Liang Shi’s head somewhat.
But the moment they stepped into the elevator, Xu Qingzhu had let go of her hand, dropped the smile, and stood far from her.
Only her peripheral gaze drifted ever so slightly toward Liang Shi’s wounded hand.
Liang Shi knew she was acting, performing for Xu Qingya.
The actress just wasn’t experienced enough. She’d focused on displaying affection but forgotten the given circumstances.
Seeing a loved one hurt should have provoked anxiety and fear, yet Xu Qingzhu’s face betrayed no emotion whatsoever.
Her acting still needed work.
Liang Shi didn’t expose her. She played the prop silently.
Across from the hotel was a large pharmacy. When Liang Shi started toward the crosswalk to buy medicine, Xu Qingzhu stopped her. “I’ll go. You wait…”
She pointed at a bench by the sidewalk. “Over there.”
Liang Shi had always been reluctant to trouble others. She’d been injured on sets plenty and was used to handling things alone.
She shook her head. “It’s fine. I’ll go myself.”
But Xu Qingzhu didn’t argue. She crossed the street directly, and Liang Shi followed silently behind.
Inside the pharmacy, Xu Qingzhu found the disinfectant, cotton swabs, and gauze as if she’d done it a hundred times. She paid and left with the supplies, stopping at the nearest bench.
She sat there, the wind lifting the hem of her bright yellow dress. Those cool, emotionless eyes nonetheless drew every gaze in the vicinity.
A near-hundred-percent head-turn rate.
“This Omega is stunning.”
“Seriously. I want to go ask for her number.”
“Give it up. She already has an Alpha.”
“…”
Snippets of the passersby’s murmurs drifted to Liang Shi’s ears. She glanced over briefly, then looked away.
Liang Shi couldn’t focus on anything right now.
All she wanted to know was: what exactly was Bad Luck Value? A curse from fate, or a punishment for something she’d done?
Why did she have to endure so much?
This damn System.
She cursed a few times in her head and was so lost in thought she didn’t hear Xu Qingzhu calling her.
Until Xu Qingzhu gently nudged her. “Give me your hand.”
Liang Shi snapped back. She slowly extended her hand and murmured: “Sorry.”
Xu Qingzhu’s grip on her fingers tightened briefly. She looked up at Liang Shi with a contemplative gaze.
Liang Shi was thinking about other things and didn’t notice.
Xu Qingzhu silently took out a cotton swab and began cleaning the blood from her palm.
The pain brought Liang Shi back to the present. She looked down at the focused Xu Qingzhu.
Xu Qingzhu’s wound-care technique was professional, her pressure perfectly calibrated. Clearly someone who had dealt with injuries often.
But Xu Qingzhu had doting parents and an excellent upbringing. Even when the Xu family enterprise was on the verge of bankruptcy, her parents hadn’t let her suffer a day’s hardship.
It was Xu Qingzhu who had proposed marrying the original host.
No matter how awful the original host was, surely it hadn’t come to domestic violence… right?
Liang Shi was lost in these thoughts when Xu Qingzhu suddenly asked: “What are you thinking about?”
“You seem really experienced at bandaging wounds.” Liang Shi voiced what was on her mind.
Xu Qingzhu’s hand paused. She let out a soft, quiet laugh.
Her long hair fell alongside her face, the corners of her lips curving with amusement. Even in profile, the sight was enough to make anyone’s heart sway.
Liang Shi stared, dazed, and then thought: As expected of a novel’s female lead.
“Did I say something funny?” Liang Shi cleared her throat, worried her weakness for pretty faces was showing.
Xu Qingzhu composed herself, and her voice turned cool again. “No.”
The instant those words left her lips, the System’s mechanical voice blared in Liang Shi’s mind: 【Bad Luck Value is a virtual metric created by the Resentment Management Bureau to balance the ecosystem. The higher the value, the more severe the corresponding penalty. It triggers every time it accumulates to a multiple of 8. Every three triggers grant an additional bonus penalty. No upper limit.】
Liang Shi: “?”
The fury in Liang Shi’s chest was blazing. The System then spoke in an infuriatingly cheeky voice: 【Host, please understand. We’re all just doing our jobs. It’s not easy out here.】
“So what did I do wrong?” Liang Shi asked as calmly as she could. “Why did Bad Luck Value trigger?”
This time, the System didn’t gloss over the explanation like it had with Luck Value. It produced a list, formatted like a supermarket receipt:
【Triggered Xu Qingzhu’s PTSD: +5
Favoritism toward Xu Qingya: +1
Triggered Xu Qingzhu’s grievance: +1
Triggered Xu Qingzhu’s anger: +1
Note: Final interpretation rights belong to the Resentment Management Bureau】
Liang Shi: …
What kind of garbage System was this?!
“So every time I make Xu Qingzhu angry, resentment builds up?” Liang Shi asked coldly.
The System: 【In theory, yes.】
Liang Shi was fuming. Before she could say anything, the System preemptively soothed: 【Don’t panic. We’re just following the rules. You can still do whatever you want going forward!】
The System, aware it was in the wrong, was practically whining.
【As long as you do the missions properly, there definitely won’t be a second penalty.】
“And what if I don’t?” Liang Shi shot back.
The System: 【…Give me a chance.】
Liang Shi: “?”
The System: 【Your Luck Value has reached 10. Small gift being dispatched now: 30,000 yuan.】
Liang Shi: “…?”
Was this slap-then-sugar?
Her phone buzzed. A bank transfer notification appeared, sent from an anonymous account, with a message attached:
【Your performance has satisfied the Romance Target. Keep up the good work! :)】
Liang Shi was speechless. She wanted to smash this System to pieces!
Keep up the good work, my foot.
Before she could ask anything else, the System was already gone: 【Another mission taker is calling me. I’ll be off. Go get ’em!】
“Get ’em, my ass,” Liang Shi muttered.
Meanwhile, Xu Qingzhu had just finished tying the last knot on the bandage, and she’d tied it into a bow.
It didn’t quite match a strong Alpha’s image.
Liang Shi looked at her Romance Target’s face and felt the anger… subside just a little.
But then Xu Qingzhu suddenly raised her head and looked straight at her. Her lips parted. “You…”
She paused. A smile curved her lips. Though phrased as a question, the words came out certain:
“You’re not Liang Shi, are you?”
