Chapter 2

Fu Juan stared intently at Jiang Yiguang until she turned into the kitchen and her figure completely disappeared, only then withdrawing her gaze.

Jiang Yiguang was acting out of character.

In the past, she would have seized any chance to get close, creating a thousand opportunities. Seeing her fallen on the ground, how could she abandon this rare chance for “intimate contact”? Fu Juan hadn’t missed the initial urgency and strange joy in Jiang Yiguang’s eyes. But soon after, against all expectations, she suppressed that emotion. Perhaps the wound on her forehead served as a reminder, teaching her a lesson.

If it could truly be like that, it would be for the best.

She was grateful for the Jiang family’s past assistance, but she didn’t want to repay that kindness with her entire life. Jiang Yiguang’s obsessive nature had reached an uncontrollable point. Locking her in the Jiang Residence was one thing, but she even wanted to… Fu Juan’s face paled slightly. Just thinking about it made her nauseous. How could she ever apologize to Jiang Yiguang?!

Still in shock, Jiang Yiguang hid in the kitchen and gulped down a glass of water. She wiped the sweat from her forehead and stared, almost lost in thought, at the scenery outside the window. The bean-sized lights gradually blurred and scattered, transforming back into intertwined clusters of five colors. Jiang Yiguang shook her head, her consciousness slowly returning. Her dispersed gaze found its focus, landing on the silver-shining faucet.

There were no obstacles in the living room. Fu Juan had lived here for nearly seven years; she could navigate it easily even with the lights off. How could she just fall? Could it be a problem with the wheelchair? If so, could Fu Juan get up on her own? How would she take care of herself? Jiang Yiguang’s mind was in chaos. She strained to listen for any sound from the living room for a long time. But outside was dead silence; not a peep reached her ears.

【Ding! Congratulations to the host for making the correct choice. Rewarding 1 Physical Strength Point. The host is still frail and weak, toppled by a single finger. I hope the host continues to strive.】

【The female lead’s current Qi Luck is in a poor state. When one is unlucky, even drinking water can get stuck between the teeth. The host doesn’t need to ask idle questions.】

Jiang Yiguang frowned slightly. Looking at her character panel again, the Physical Strength Points value had changed to “24.” As for the difference, she felt nothing at all. After calming down for a long while, Jiang Yiguang finally walked out of the kitchen. She glanced towards the tea table. Fu Juan sat on the floor, her face deathly pale, lost in thought. Even if a stranger fell on the street, one should help, right? Especially someone once so precious to her heart. Jiang Yiguang’s nose stung, an uncontrollable bitterness flooding her heart. She could barely control herself, but the System’s static noise chimed in just in time. She quickened her pace, practically fleeing from the living room.

“Isn’t this a bit heartless?” Jiang Yiguang frowned and asked, unsure whether her past or present self was more like she was possessed.

【What does the host have to do with ‘human warmth’? Before, when you saw Wang Xuanming encounter a ghost, you didn’t act righteously and help him, did you?】

Jiang Yiguang: “…”

What the System brought up happened half a year ago. Back then, driven by curiosity, she had begged her mother to help her open her Yin-Yang Eyes. The first thing she saw upon leaving the house was Wang Xuanming being harassed by a ghost. She was scared out of her wits; why would she care whether Wang Xuanming lived or died? Even with her mother’s talismans on her, she didn’t dare take a step forward.

“Wang Xuanming is from the Wang family and a registered member of the Xuanzhen Dao Court. Why would he need my help?” Jiang Yiguang defended herself. Among the younger generation of the four great Mystic Arts Clans—Jiang, Zhang, Zhao, Wang—she, Jiang Yiguang, was the only unenlightened good-for-nothing. “Besides, he’s the person I hate most,” she added.

Her loves and hates were always distinct. As a child, it was because Wang Xuanming was the “prodigy child” her mother compared her to. As she grew up, it became about “Fu Juan.” Though Wang Xuanming never openly declared his affection for Fu Juan, his closeness and care for her were plain to see. If Fu Juan were still the Fu Juan from seven years ago, many might praise them as a “perfect match.” But now—the looks people cast at Wang Xuanming and Fu Juan held only pity and regret. Jiang Yiguang instinctively felt Fu Juan would never accept Wang Xuanming, yet she still stubbornly loathed him.

Jiang Yiguang suddenly asked, “If this world really is a novel, what was the final relationship between Wang Xuanming and Fu Juan?”

【Comrades and Dao companions.】

Jiang Yiguang suddenly understood. Companions came first, meaning like-minded partners with mutual respect. Put another way, perhaps a “platonic marriage of convenience.”

Jiang Yiguang sat in her room for a while, her brow furrowing then relaxing.

The System said her ending in the novel was heart-devoured by a hundred ghosts, but it didn’t give her the complete plot. Based on that ending, she could guess that the Jiang family wouldn’t be doing well by then. Her mother was likely gone; otherwise, she wouldn’t have fallen to such a miserable end with no one to lend a hand. But what kind of change would have befallen her mother? Did her own “evil” drag her mother down? If everyone was a “marionette” under the fate lines, if she broke free from her shackles, could she make others change too?

Half an hour later, Jiang Yiguang gathered her complicated feelings and rose to open the door.

She glanced down from the hallway. The living room was empty; no one was there.

It seemed Fu Juan had her ways after all; otherwise, she wouldn’t have insisted on moving out alone.

Realizing this, Jiang Yiguang breathed a slight sigh of relief, suppressing the surging, inexplicable emotions.

Her reason and emotion were gradually diverging.

Fu Juan was important, but her life couldn’t revolve solely around Fu Juan.

–

In a room not far away.

Fu Juan was pondering Jiang Yiguang’s actions.

Her skin was like porcelain, her features exquisite, yet she emanated a startling coldness, like a snow lotus on a high cliff, unattainable. Stray strands of hair hung down, casting a dark shadow that concealed the gloom in her eyes. She tapped the table rhythmically with her bent fingers, causing three little paper dolls cut from talismans to bounce up and down.

“We got the key. Why isn’t Juan’er leaving yet?”

“Yeah, yeah, doesn’t Little Juan dislike it here? You can’t be trapped anymore. Let’s go home.”

“Is Little Juan worried about her? But she brought it on herself. Little Juan doesn’t need to feel guilty over this.”

The little paper dolls chattered away, like chirping sparrows.

A cold glint suddenly flashed in Fu Juan’s eyes. She said icily, “Shut up!”

The paper dolls, startled, flopped onto the table one after another, their cut-out mouths and noses forming rather human-like pitiful expressions. But Fu Juan was truly hard-hearted. She pointed a finger at the little paper dolls, promptly stowing them into her sleeve.

The three little paper dolls were left by her mother. When she was young, her father and mother were always too busy with Xuanzhen Dao Court matters to spend time with her, so they made these little paper dolls as her playmates. Later, things changed utterly; the little paper dolls became her last remembrance and cherished memory. Even later, she began to despise the softness and pitifulness she had once shown.

“Buzz.”

Her phone vibrating interrupted Fu Juan’s contemplation. She glanced at it, picked it up, and opened the chat window.

Wang Xuanming: 【There’s a job at the Southern Mountain, investigating a Fox Immortal Temple. Wanna go?】

Fu Juan didn’t ask further, just replied “Yes.”

Wang Xuanming’s job came from the Xuanzhen Dao Court. Like him, she was a member of the court. But since her legs were crippled, no tasks had been assigned to her. Those people didn’t mention “dismissal,” nor did they treat her as a member of the Court anymore. They just let her keep a useless title for the sake of her deceased parents.

Only Wang Xuanming sought her out.

Perhaps it was another form of pity, but at least it gave her a shred of purpose for existing.

Putting down her phone, Fu Juan didn’t look again. It was already late; she would learn the specifics of the task when she met Wang Xuanming. But Jiang Yiguang—that name slipped back into Fu Juan’s mind. This time, however, she didn’t dwell on it, suppressing the weariness and disgust together.

That night, free from Jiang Yiguang’s harassment, Fu Juan had a rare good sleep.

–

Jiang Yiguang had no leisure to ponder Fu Juan’s mood.

The next morning, when her awareness returned, she found herself standing in front of Fu Juan’s room door. It was barely five o’clock; the night’s darkness hadn’t fully receded. The corridor lights were dim yellow, faintly illuminating the secluded old house, stretching out a human shadow. Jiang Yiguang lowered her gaze, immediately breaking out in a cold sweat.

Why was she here, watching over Fu Juan?

This behavior… was truly like a pervert.

Once Jiang Yiguang came to her senses, she immediately fled in panic. She drank a glass of water to calm her shock, but the slight drowsiness completely vanished in her fright. She recalled the System, which yesterday felt like a fantastical dream, and softly called out to it in her mind. Before long, that overly frank character panel, which made her heart clench, appeared before her eyes again.

It felt too real to be an illusion.

“She’s able to move freely now, without restrictions. Why hasn’t she moved out of the Jiang Residence?”

“Was she wary of me? Does staying away from Fu Juan reduce my bouts of madness?”

The System didn’t respond.

Jiang Yiguang didn’t mind either. She dug through her contacts to find her chat log with Fu Juan. She couldn’t even bear to look at the fanatical messages she’d sent before, just focused on poking the screen, sending: “When are you going back?” But before the breath of relief could be exhaled, it was forced back by the small text that popped up on the screen.

【Message sent, but rejected by the recipient.】

Was this outcome really so unexpected? If things had come to this point, how could she still have the nerve to throw herself at Fu Juan?

Jiang Yiguang stared at her phone with a complicated expression for a long while. She then turned to the study, found paper and pen, and wrote the characters “You are free” in a flamboyant script. She stuck the note onto Fu Juan’s bedroom door.

That should let her break free, right?