After I Abandoned the Protagonist [Quick Transmigration] 158

Chapter 158: The Cannon Fodder Who Can’t Survive Three Chapters (1)

The relentless rain shrouded Xicheng, reducing visibility to near zero. Early spring’s chill permeated the air, especially at the Xicheng West Suburban Funeral Parlor, where even the burning joss paper couldn’t dispel the damp coldness. Mourners shivered, their breath misting in the air, the white condensation on the black and white tiles adding to the somber atmosphere.

The funeral parlor, where death was the great equalizer, had received a VIP client last night. The generous red envelopes had secured the largest hall,

And even a renowned master to determine the most auspicious time for the funeral. As a result, the bodies that arrived later had to be prepared and queued in the morgue.

Outside, in the open-air parking lot…

A bright yellow Ferrari, its door flung open, a young woman struggling to get out, then remembering something, she reached back in and retrieved a wilting bouquet of chrysanthemums, its petals drooping, waterlogged. A raindrop struck a flower, snapping its stem, the blossom falling into a puddle.

The girl holding the flowers yelped, jumping into the arms of her friend, who was holding an umbrella. “Couldn’t we have come another day? The Su family isn’t poor, the funeral will last for days, why come to this depressing place?” she complained, waving the damaged bouquet.

Her shoe landed in a puddle, splashing muddy water onto the flowers and the pants of another girl standing nearby, a baseball cap shadowing her face. The girl, holding a transparent umbrella, frowned. “If you don’t want to be here, go back yourself.”

She snatched the flowers, a cruel smile twisting her lips, a hint of malice in her youthful face. “I want to see if she’s still so alluring, even lying in a coffin.”

Her two friends exchanged glances and silently followed her.

‘Never offend Bei Xing.’

‘She even holds grudges against the dead.’

…

Their shadows stretched long in the rain.

But as they moved away from the puddle, another figure appeared in its reflection, a vibrant red, yet casting no shadow.

Inside the funeral parlor, droplets of water dripped from their umbrellas.

The two girls, seeing Bei Xing suddenly stop at the entrance to the hall, walked over. “Bei Xing? What’s wrong?”

“Scared?”

Bei Xing, her body trembling slightly, looked around as if just waking up.

“Bei Xing?”

Her two friends, curious about Su Mingxiu’s appearance in death, looked at her, confused. She had been so eager earlier, why was she hesitating now?

Unbeknownst to them, Bei Xing was even more confused. She looked at the funeral banners and wreaths, the rain dripping from the eaves, and wondered, What’s going on?

She had been working on her thesis in her dorm room, reading a trashy novel, then she had dozed off, and now she was here?

Her friend poked her in the back, her voice a whisper. “Come on, didn’t you want to see how ugly Su Mingxiu looks in death? I asked, she hasn’t been cremated yet, we can still catch her in the morgue—”

Bei Xing: “?”

She caught the name “Su Mingxiu.”

Familiar.

Like the character in the trashy novel she had been reading.

Trashy, because a character with her name had died in the second chapter.

Reader Bei Xing: (Fine.)

Trashy author, trashy novel.

Now, looking at the grey, rainy sky, she recalled the first two chapters: the character Bei Xing had a rival named Su Mingxiu, who was superior to her in every way except for family background. So Bei Xing, jealous, had wanted to teach her a lesson.

She had planned to lure Su Mingxiu to a bar with some friends, but Su Mingxiu hadn’t shown up, then news of her death had spread.

Cannon fodder Bei Xing, frustrated at not having gotten her revenge, had decided to cause trouble at the funeral, taking flowers from other graves, even burning Su Mingxiu’s joss paper elsewhere—

Six days later, she had died a gruesome death, her body mangled.

The novel was called Tales of Ghosts and Demons, and Su Mingxiu’s name was listed as a supporting character.

Bei Xing, remembering the plot, looked down at the wilting chrysanthemums in her arms, their petals stained with muddy water.

The thought of bringing these flowers into the funeral hall made her shudder. She was looking for a trash can when a group of middle-aged people emerged from the hall, looking at them curiously.

Just then, her friend spoke up: “Hello, uncles and aunties, we’re Su Mingxiu’s classmates, we just heard the news from our teacher, so we came to pay our respects.”

“Boom!”

A thunderclap, and a flash of lightning illuminated the funeral parlor.

Bei Xing flinched, thinking that even the heavens couldn’t stand the original owner’s behavior. But her friend was pushing her towards the hall, and she had to take a few steps, then she looked up—

And saw the portrait on the wall.

Even in black and white, the woman’s beauty was undeniable. Or perhaps, precisely because of the stark contrast, the lack of color, her exquisite features were even more striking.

Bei Xing was stunned. Could such a beautiful woman exist?

Her friend, covering her mouth, whispered that she would go check the way to the morgue, leaving Bei Xing alone.

Bei Xing stood there, holding the wilting flowers, her gaze fixed on the portrait, then she shivered.

The temperature seemed to have dropped.

She thought, the original owner’s death was six days later, that would be Su Mingxiu’s seventh day, the day the soul returned home. And for a vengeful ghost like Su Mingxiu…

Bei Xing looked away from the portrait, a sudden chill.

Su Mingxiu is watching you.

But…

She remembered that vengeful spirits were usually confused, disoriented, how could Su Mingxiu remember and seek revenge so quickly?

“Little girl?”

One of the middle-aged people approached her, looking at her curiously.

Su Mingxiu hadn’t mentioned her parents much in the original owner’s memories, and none of the people here resembled the woman in the portrait. They must be relatives. But that wasn’t important, what was important was…

She couldn’t bring herself to place these flowers before the portrait.

Bei Xing stared at the picture, her eyes widening, then reddening, her lower lip trembling, her face pale, as if in disbelief.

Then, she threw the flowers on the floor, her voice choked with emotion. “No… I don’t believe it… this can’t be real…”

She stumbled, almost falling, startling Su Mingxiu’s uncle, who wanted to help her but hesitated. “My dear… you and Mingxiu were so close… she would be sad to see you like this.”

No wonder she had been hesitant to enter.

She couldn’t accept her friend’s death.

Tears streamed down Bei Xing’s face, her body shaking with sobs, as if about to faint.

“I still… had so much to say to you… why… why didn’t you give me a chance?”

Her grief seemed deeper than that of an ordinary friend.

And if asked why she was acting like this, she could only say, because this Tales of Ghosts and Demons was a yuri novel.

The original owner had been in love with the school beauty, who, also a beauty lover, had been more interested in Su Mingxiu.

The role of a heartbroken admirer suited her better than that of a friend. As for how to convince her two friends…

She would worry about that after surviving the second chapter.

Beside the portrait, unseen by anyone…

A woman in a vibrant red dress, her arms crossed, her face identical to the one in the portrait, but even more alluring, stood there, watching.

She remembered Bei Xing’s conversation with her friends by the puddle.

If it weren’t for the thunderstorm that had trapped her here, she wouldn’t have witnessed this dramatic performance.

Her gaze fell on the discarded chrysanthemums. Bei Xing and her friends had been the first to arrive, and Su Mingxiu’s relatives, realizing their oversight, had quickly ordered fresh flowers.

Su Mingxiu had thought the carnations were the most inappropriate gift, but now…

…chrysanthemums.

She smiled faintly, then her expression turned thoughtful.

She felt like something was missing from her memories.

But she could clearly recall every encounter with the protagonists in each world, the images vivid, as if they had just happened yesterday.

But…

She touched her head, a nagging feeling that something crucial was missing.

“Bei Xing? What’s wrong?”

Her two friends, returning from the morgue, saw Bei Xing’s red eyes and were startled, thinking she had offended the Su family. But she was sitting there quietly, seemingly unharmed.

After all, funerals were somber occasions, anyone causing a disturbance would have been removed.

They sat beside her and asked softly.

Bei Xing covered her face with her hands, her sobs echoing in the hall, then, as if finally giving up on hiding her true feelings, she looked at the portrait, her voice trembling. “You always teased me for being jealous… I thought she would notice me one day, but…”

Her friends: “?”

They were stunned, wondering if they had misheard.

But Bei Xing’s grief seemed so genuine. Unable to imagine her lying, their worldviews crumbled. “So you weren’t here to mock her?”

“I just can’t believe it…” Bei Xing looked down, as if still in shock. “She was so young, so full of potential, how could her life end like this…”

Because of her secret love, she had always paid attention to Su Mingxiu.

Because of her secret love, seeing Su Mingxiu’s indifference, she had turned her love into hate, causing trouble, acting like a clown to get Su Mingxiu’s attention.

And because of her secret love, she hadn’t wanted to buy those funeral flowers, couldn’t accept that her unrequited love had ended before it even began.

“So you wanted to come before the cremation… to see her one last time?” her friend asked, understanding dawning.

Bei Xing shuddered.

The show must go on, she thought, nodding, her voice hoarse. “Take… take me to see her.”

Meanwhile…

Bei Xing, radiating an aura of “I’m not hiding it anymore, I love her,” didn’t know that the vibrant red figure had left the portrait’s side and was now standing before her, leaning closer, their noses almost touching.

The woman in red, her lips as vibrant as her dress, smiled faintly, raising a hand to touch Bei Xing’s tears, her fingers passing through them.

But Su Mingxiu didn’t mind. Her smile didn’t falter as she observed Bei Xing’s performance.

As the only unseen audience member, she offered her review: “Your script is getting worse.”

“Little liar.”