Anyway, the matter had finally been resolved smoothly enough. Sure, Liang Sheng had lost her eight-thousand-yuan phone in the process, but every silver lining had its cloud, right? Still, kicking a major headache away from Young Miss Lu Ziqing made that little loss… well, not entirely worth it. Liang Sheng sighed heavily, her heart aching as she dug a hole in her family’s backyard to bury her beloved phone. An eight-thousand-yuan phone! Rest in peace down there.
As for the fallback option Su Ze had mentioned—who could that be? Liang Sheng had figured it out ages ago. If Su Ze’s family got fired by Lu Ziqing, he’d no doubt turn to Ye Yuzhe. After all, Ye Yuzhe was the one with the highest favorability toward him right now, and she bet his Heartthrob Value wasn’t far behind. But Ye Yuzhe’s family already had a driver, and they didn’t lack for servants or employees either.
Of course, there was one other person. Liang Sheng wandered aimlessly around her house, teacup in hand. That was the book’s second vicious female side character, a green tea bitch without equal—the kind whose name even had “tea” in it: Cha Susu.
Liang Sheng hadn’t met Cha Susu yet, so she had no idea what the woman’s favorability toward Su Ze might be. Stumbling into her by chance would be tough, even with her halo as one of the female leads. After all, this was a brainless romance novel. No author without a decade of cerebral thrombosis could churn out such clichéd plots and tropes.
Take this one scene, for example. It was all about Su Ze’s heroic rescue, right? Spreading positive vibes, totally praiseworthy… but…
“Then, a bicycle-riding uncle suddenly appeared behind the little girl. He was staring at his phone while pedaling (genius move, I have to say—straight-up brilliant!). He wasn’t watching the road ahead (duh, he was on his phone; sloppy writing, point deducted!), and he barreled straight into the little girl. With a loud ‘clang,’ she flew several meters through the air (ooh~ ooh~ ooh~—picture a shocked face and that sound effect). Su Ze dashed forward in a flash and caught the girl perfectly just before she hit the ground. He quickly checked her for injuries, and once he confirmed she was fine, he gently set her down.”
Holy hell, Newton’s coffin lid was about to fly off—he couldn’t rest in peace like that. Okay, sure, this wasn’t the wonky West where Newton held sway. But… a bicycle launching someone into the air? And that girl who got flung? None other than eleven-year-old Zhen Zhu. Su Ze, how’d she not flatten you on impact? Be honest, are you secretly Popeye in disguise?
And it got even more ridiculously melodramatic.
“‘Su Ze, do you love me or not?!’ Liang Sheng shouted at Su Ze in the pouring rain. Su Ze lowered his gaze, his cheeks faintly visible in the dark night (cheeks flickering in and out? Sounds like horror movie territory). ‘You’re a great girl, Liang Sheng (ding—nice guy card issued), but… sigh…’ (Can’t you two just go inside to talk? Her house is right there!) His long sigh utterly shattered Liang Sheng’s heart.”
“‘Waaah,’ Liang Sheng sobbed, tears streaming down her face like pear blossoms in a storm. The two stood there in the rain for ages. ‘Achoo!’ Liang Sheng sneezed suddenly. Su Ze jolted, looking worriedly at the beautiful girl across from him, now a total tear-soaked mess (how do you even tell if it’s rain or tears? Is she drenched head to toe in them???). Then he pulled an umbrella from his pocket (??? You had an umbrella this whole time and didn’t use it sooner? Enjoying the romantic soak, huh???).”
“He stepped up to Liang Sheng, popped open the umbrella, and gently wrapped an arm around her slender waist. ‘Don’t cry, you’ll catch a cold. Here, take the umbrella and head home. I don’t need it—I’m going home too (bro, use that big brain of yours: her house is two steps away, yours is miles off. Who’s really the one who needs the umbrella?).'”
Was this some shared kink for romance novel leads—getting drenched in the rain, catching colds, tender caregiving, room temperature rising, hormones raging, some weird aphrodisiac kicking in from their bodies, leading to thoughts they shouldn’t have, then smooching—no, rolling right into bed together?
The plot was so over-the-top cheesy, it reminded Liang Sheng of those phone ads that popped up all the time: “The CEO yanked out her oxygen tube. ‘Quit faking it—go home and make dinner.’ And just like that, the heart monitor flatlined.”
Good lord, that was straight-up attempted murder. Who in their right mind pulls someone’s oxygen tube? Must be a total dimwit. Tell us, Mr. Big CEO—how many years did you pull in prison? Was the slop tasty? Comfy threads?
After finishing Su Ze’s Girlfriends, all Liang Sheng could say was: Hey? 110? I’ve got a novel here trying to murder my already shaky brain, my stiff limbs, and steal what little wits and IQ I have left.
After rattling off that torrent of complaints, Liang Sheng decided opportunities had to be made, not waited for. With vacation in full swing and nothing else to do, she needed to engineer a “chance encounter” with the book’s second major vicious side character—the green tea queen, Cha Susu.
Having read the book, she knew Su Ze’s girlfriends—aside from Lu Ziqing—all lived in the same upscale neighborhood. The very one Liang Sheng called home.
Oh man, it only hit her now: Su Ze was one crafty penny-pincher. Living under the same roof as Lu Zqing meant he could see her anytime. The other girls were all in one neighborhood—a quick taxi ride, and boom, full harem access. Saved a fortune on travel. Who knew Su Ze was such a budget whiz?
Plus, nearly all his girlfriends went to the same school. Want one? Up a flight of stairs, down another. Totally absurd. What kind of school was this? Overflowing with rich beauties, all mooning over the same guy.
Su Ze was basically this world’s Cheng-ge. Too bad Cheng-ge ended up getting chainsawed in the end—he chopped every girl in his harem. What a twist. Wonder how heavenly Cheng-ge felt about that!
In the end, Su Ze was just another pants-driven animal. Liang Sheng let out a sigh.
After all that ranting, the one word on Liang Sheng’s mind was: Absolutely not.
