Chapter 7: The Icy Heiress

123’s face darkened as it watched Jiang Li, who had been forcibly ejected from the dream and was now enduring the intense electric shocks of her punishment. A flicker of reluctance passed through its eyes.

The neatly made thin blanket on the bed when they had set out was now a tangled mess.

Jiang Li had bitten her lower lip, leaving a clear mark, while merciless currents surged through every part of her body.

The sharp, prickling pain from all over forced her to bury her head into the pillow beside her, muffled groans of agony escaping her lips.

【You tell me, say it properly, and I’ll listen.】

123 had gone along with Jiang Li, so it had seen everything she had witnessed.

Before they left, it had repeatedly warned her not to interfere with anything or anyone in the dream realm, and it had desperately tried to stop her mentally right at the moment she was about to act. But Jiang Li had done it anyway.

It knew her personality—she could never stand by and do nothing.

But now? Punished harshly by the system bot for meddling because of some meaningless past event—what was the point?

123 watched as the convulsing figure on the bed gradually calmed. Jiang Li was so weak she couldn’t even speak a full sentence.

Lying there with her arm bent, everything in her field of vision spun indiscriminately, black and white blurring together, leaving her dizzy.

She curled up, the sound of 123’s exasperated voice ringing in her ears, but she didn’t have the strength to respond just yet.

“I couldn’t just stand there and watch Luo Yihuan get called those names by those kids,” Jiang Li said weakly once she had recovered a little. She pushed herself up on her limp arms, rolled onto her back, and lay flat on the bed. “She was so young back then. Kids that little age hear stuff like that, and it can easily scar them for life.”

123’s expression remained blank. 【But that was the dream realm.】

Jiang Li let out a soft huff, glancing at the hypocritical 123. She didn’t hold back. “You really think I don’t know anything? These dreams—or rather, what I can call parallel worlds.”

“Everything and everyone in them is completely real.”

“Even if I never see that Luo Yihuan again after this, helping her for that one moment is still better than leaving her to suffer alone back then.”

Jiang Li lay on the bed, looking utterly wilted and deflated after the shocks, like a plant beaten down by frost.

Yet her response to 123 was calm and earnest, like a ship navigating the dark sea at midnight—surrounded by blackness on all sides, but steadfast in its own convictions.

123 fell silent.

It turned back into her mind, sitting there puffed up with anger, its whiskers twitching as it grumbled inwardly: You read the book and only know it’s a parallel world—why didn’t you finish the rest?

That madwoman would do anything for Jiang Li.

123 quieted down, and Jiang Li lay still on the bed, resting.

Her brows furrowed from time to time; the electric jolts had been so intense that even after the punishment ended, she could still feel occasional tingles running through her.

But she didn’t regret it.

The night was still deep, Shore Lake’s stars twinkling in the distant sky, exceptionally bright.

They shone like blooming flowers in an otherwise hopeless expanse, their glow reflecting in the eyes of the city’s insomniacs, creating another kind of beauty.

Jiang Li stood by the roadside, watching the flow of cars pass by.

Today was the day Wen Li had mentioned in advance for their visit to Shore Lake Orphanage. Jiang Li had gotten ready early and come downstairs after receiving Wen Li’s message to wait.

812, 812. She murmured the license plate number as cars drove past, standing on tiptoe and craning her neck to peer into each one, searching for that number.

Finally, it appeared in her line of sight.

She took a few quick steps and stood excitedly in a clear spot by the road, waving at the black Maybach with the 812 plate. The stray hairs on her shoulders bounced along with her.

She looked just like one of those inflatable dolls stores put out front to attract passersby—waving its arms wildly in place, cute on the outside and guileless within.

The Marketing Department’s pick this time was spot-on: she seemed like a mascot anyone could trust at first sight.

Propping her chin, the person by the car window—who had spotted the figure from afar and turned her gaze that way—thought to herself.

The car signaled and pulled slowly to the curb.

The passenger window rolled down, revealing Wen Li’s smiling face. She looked at Jiang Li standing by the road. “Good morning, Jiang Li. Hop in.”

Jiang Li nodded and opened the back door. As she bent to get in, she realized Luo Yihuan was there too.

Perhaps because they were going to the orphanage today, Luo Yihuan wasn’t wearing her usual restrictive qipao. Instead, she had on a casual shirt and trousers outfit—completely different from her first impression.

If the qipao had lent her a hint of allure at their initial meeting, today she was all cool detachment.

The shirt was a minimalist classic style, simple and intellectual on her, enhancing her crisp, aloof aura.

The trousers hugged her long, straight legs perfectly. She sat on the inside, her gaze, giving off an unapproachable vibe when silent.

Her eyes looking over were calm and still.

“Doctor Jiang, get in.”

Jiang Li acknowledged it and retracted the surprise from her eyes. She slid into the car and closed the door.

Remembering Luo Yihuan’s address, she turned her face with a bright smile. “Miss Luo, just call me Jiang Li from now on. We’ll probably be seeing a lot of each other.”

Luo Yihuan’s eyes flickered, though no one knew what she was thinking. She didn’t protest. “Alright. Then you can just call me Luo Yihuan.”

Jiang Li nodded, a sly glint in her brows. Her dark eyes were half-hidden by long lashes, her whole demeanor radiating delight—like a blazing sun, its light dazzling.

Luo Yihuan watched for a moment before turning her head away.

The morning sun was at its most beautiful, shining on the sign at Shore Lake Orphanage’s gate. The group got out and walked in, where the director greeted them warmly and led them inside.

It was the weekend, and children were scattered around the yard in small groups. Some played on the playground equipment, others squatted in the sandpit building imaginary castles with their shovels—a lively, cheerful scene.

Amid the laughter and chatter, as Jiang Li passed through the yard, she spotted a little girl under a tree shade, reading a book. The familiar cover made her pause involuntarily, her steps slowing.

Luo Yihuan, walking beside her, noticed Jiang Li’s lag and followed her gaze.

After staring intently for a moment, Luo Yihuan relaxed—but the chill in her eyes grew colder. She fixed on the book for a while longer before looking away.

“Jiang Li, what’s wrong?”

The voice calling her name snapped Jiang Li out of it. She turned, curved her lips into a small smile, and shook her head to show she was fine.

She just…

Jiang Li gazed at the little girl, her emotions complicated, when 123’s emotionless electronic voice chimed in.

【Ding. Detecting significant emotional fluctuations toward the task target. Triggering second task protocol. Issuing second task.】

【Please face the task target with teary eyes, brimming with emotion, and a face showing boundless deep affection, and say the following: “Baby, in your world, only I can make you happy—no one else can take my place.”】

Crack, crack, crack…

After hearing the task, Jiang Li’s expression went blank as she slowly turned her neck inch by inch. Gone was the joy from entering the orphanage; she could almost hear her neck bones creaking.

She thought: She must be done for. There was nothing left in this world worth worrying about.

Otherwise… she could just quit the task now, go back to school for her failure certificate. It was just wasting 10 million star coins on tuition she couldn’t finish, then getting a beating from Mom at home. No big deal.

Jiang Li looked ashen.

【Sweetie, better not daydream—complete the task quick!】

“123, you talk like you don’t get back pain from standing or tire from sitting,” Jiang Li ground out, glaring at the enlarged crimson text flashing hugely in her mind. Even one glance stung her eyes.

The first task was just saying the line. Now? The difficulty had jumped from small fry to boss level.

Teary eyes, overflowing emotion, and a face radiating endless deep love!

Any one alone, Jiang Li could nail with confidence.

But all three together?

She imagined herself, tears streaming, eyes full of profound affection, calling out “Baby” to Luo Yihuan. Just the nickname alone was enough to make her want to cover her eyes in shame.

The image was too cringe—it could scar a girl for life.

“Jiang Li, are you okay? Your face looks pale.”

Luo Yihuan stood beside her. She had noticed Jiang Li staring at the little girl; soon her color drained, the usual brightness in her eyes dimming like she was lost in sad memories, her whole energy slumping.

The little sun wasn’t shining anymore. Stirred by the scene?

She subtly glanced back at the girl under the tree, but saw nothing amiss.

Hearing Luo Yihuan’s concerned tone, Jiang Li forced a smile, her dimples trembling at the corners of her mouth. “I’m fine. I just remembered some things from the past.”

Seeing Luo Yihuan about to ask more, her face hesitant, Jiang Li quickly turned and took a few steps forward. “Alright, let’s head in. Everyone’s probably waiting.”

Jiang Li didn’t dare look at that cool, beautiful face for now. She hurried off and was inside the building in moments.

Luo Yihuan stood still, staring at Jiang Li’s flustered retreating figure vanishing into the building. She glanced back at the little girl still absorbed in her book under the tree, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully.

She stood in the corridor, her clear black-and-white eyes sparkling. The warm sunlight at her back gave her a halo-like glow, making her look like an ethereal saint.

But the sharpness in her gaze was unmistakable, keen as a blade.