Chapter 2: ◎Yan Mian◎

Just as Yan Mian fastened the last button, a knock sounded at the rest room door.

The girl in the mirror no longer looked as pale as before—a faint blush tinted her cheeks. The long skirt perfectly hugged the soft curves of her body, her ebony-black hair smoothly pinned behind her ear, her neck slender and pale like a swan poised to spread its wings.

That was until she shrugged into the jacket emblazoned with the Mingzhong School emblem, enveloping her entire upper body. The jacket’s fabric was comfortable, loose and breathable, but its one glaring flaw was how hideous it was—ugly enough that even Mingzhong students couldn’t stand to look at it for more than five seconds.

All its virtues were buried beneath that ugliness, rendering Yan Mian drab and utterly ordinary. And she loved it that way.

She hated the way other people’s eyes lingered on her.

After triple-checking her outfit in the mirror and finding no issues, Yan Mian opened the door.

Li Nian, who had come running all the way, saw her standing there safe and sound and heaved a long sigh of relief. She wiped the sweat beading along her neck, her stray hairs plastered stickily to her skin. Keeping her distance from Yan Mian, she flashed a bright smile. “Zhu Lexing said you were in here. I thought she was messing with me.”

The next instant, as if struck by a sudden thought, her expression grew serious. “Oh, right—she also said you weren’t feeling well. Want to head to the infirmary? I’ll go with you!”

“Zhu Lexing.” “Infirmary.”

Those six words together made the fingers hidden in Yan Mian’s skirt hem clench abruptly.

Zhu Lexing’s sadistic urges weren’t particularly strong.

She got more enjoyment out of Yan Mian’s fear and the thrill of total control than from leaving her covered in injuries. As such, aside from those rare moments when her emotions boiled over, she never marked Yan Mian’s body.

But Yan Mian had been born with skin that bruised easily—any purple welt turned horrifyingly vivid overnight. She didn’t dare go to a hospital, terrified the driver who ferried her would notice something off and report it to Zhu Lin. Her only option was to come to school early, avoiding Zhu Lexing’s schedule, and beg medicine from the school doctor.

After a few such visits, the school doctor recognized her and assumed she was a victim of bullying. Outraged, he filed a report.

The outcome was all too predictable. In the face of power and influence, he received a termination letter and slunk away in disgrace, never to be seen again. Zhu Lexing smashed the phone containing photos of Yan Mian’s injuries and issued a stark warning: there had better not be a next time.

Otherwise, not even Zhu Lexing knew what fate awaited the next busybody.

That girl’s venomous glare lingered vividly in Yan Mian’s mind, sending her lashes fluttering.

Whether the threat had been mere venting or something more malicious, Yan Mian had no idea. All she knew was that Zhu Lexing’s temperament was volatile—if something truly irreversible happened, Yan Mian would be the one thrown under the bus.

She saw that much clearly and knew she couldn’t afford to take the gamble. That was why she grew ever more compliant, ever more guarded in her words and deeds.

By the time she met Li Nian, the school doctor had been gone for over a month. Yan Mian hadn’t wanted to get too close at first, afraid of dragging her into the mess. But Li Nian acted as if she hadn’t noticed the chill at all, boldly speaking up for her and showing care at every turn until Yan Mian found she couldn’t refuse such kindness.

Just like now—Li Nian picked up on Yan Mian’s odd reaction right away and lowered her voice. “Mianmian?”

“…”

Yan Mian sighed inwardly and gave a soft smile. “She didn’t do anything to me. I’m fine.”

Seeing that Yan Mian didn’t want to dwell on it, Li Nian pressed her lips together. “Your face has gone all pale again… Whatever. Zhu Lexing already got you excused from class. Just rest up here. After school, I’ll grab your bag for you. If we can’t take her on, we can always steer clear, right?”

“…Excused?” Yan Mian stared at Li Nian, bewildered. “You said… who got me excused?”

The evening sky burned crimson.

In the office, Zhu Xing sipped his tea while stealing occasional glances at Yan Mian seated across his desk.

Yan Mian gazed at the excuse slip before her. In the requester field, Zhu Lexing’s three bold, upright characters stared back solidly. She gripped her pen, Li Nian’s voice still echoing in her ears as she repeated Zhu Lexing’s exact words.

Once Li Nian had recounted the whole story faithfully, Yan Mian fell silent on the spot—and even Li Nian sensed something was off. “Why’s she being so nice today? Is Uncle Zhu coming back?”

Yan Mian seldom spoke with Zhu Lin and had no clue about his schedule. Recalling the damp wipe nearby and those retreating footsteps, she took it as truth.

She hadn’t contradicted her right away, and Li Nian’s spirits lifted in a flash—

Zhu Lexing wouldn’t even deign to acknowledge Jiang Yue, much less the “deadweight tag-along” that Jiang Yue had brought with her: Yan Mian.

Even now, aside from the school administration and Zhu Xing, her bullying came across to outsiders as nothing more than the petty tantrums of a spoiled rich girl.

Li Nian had only learned the truth about their connection after getting to know Yan Mian.

Since it was “family drama” between stepsisters, Li Nian couldn’t really confront Zhu Lexing head-on. She could only bluff like a paper tiger, issuing warnings left and right while doing everything in her power to shield Yan Mian.

Old-fashioned to the core, she believed that after years of leaning on her mother for support, Jiang Yue must adore Yan Mian. Once the “grown-up” returned, all would be well.

Zhu Family secrets weren’t for sharing, and Yan Mian couldn’t bring herself to burden Li Nian anyway. So she let her friend’s optimism stand unchallenged.

By the time they parted ways, Yan Mian had caught some of Li Nian’s buoyant mood.

But now, staring at those three characters—”Zhu Lexing”—that filled her with dread and loathing, an uncanny calm settled over Yan Mian.

So what if Uncle Zhu was coming back? Nothing would change for her.

All of Zhu Lexing’s “kindness” was just a fleeting breather before the next round of torment.

Zhu Xing took the slip from her. True to form, Yan Mian’s handwriting was a graceful running script—precise and blocky, mirroring her resilient, patient spirit. By contrast, even Zhu Lexing’s careful penmanship came out floaty and malformed.

He regarded Yan Mian in wry silence, words of comfort failing him. Stiffly, he said, “Don’t let anything like this happen again. The school’s not that huge—it took the teachers ages to track you down. Off-campus would be worse. Next time something comes up, contact your family right away.”

He offered a few more such reminders, but her responses stayed detached. With a sigh, Zhu Xing pulled a test paper from the folder at hand. It was the only thing he could think to do.

“There’s not much time left until the bell. Here’s today’s homework—you can finish it right here before class ends.”

Yan Mian stared blankly for a moment, said nothing, and accepted the test paper.

A long while passed before a barely audible “thank you” drifted through the empty office.

~~~

When the decadent dusk had fully blanketed the classroom, the melodious saxophone finally rang out.

As the elderly teacher coughed out the words “class dismissed,” the scraping of chairs and desks filled the air.

Boarding students didn’t even grab their bags before bolting toward the cafeteria.

Day students clustered in twos and threes, packing their backpacks amid laughter and chatter.

The room divided into clear factions as everyone gravitated to their groups. Only the space around Zhu Lexing remained deserted—even her deskmate had dashed off with her bag and friends the moment the bell sounded.

Zhu Lexing had been mildly puzzled by the original host’s supposed entourage of “little brothers,” but after a moment’s thought, she remembered that Mingzhong School had a special Flying Class for wealthy transfer students whose grades were “just a tad lacking.”

The original host had assumed Yan Mian would end up in Flying Class with her, but Yan Mian’s excellent scores had landed her in Class 7 through the standard admissions process. Determined to torment her up close, the original host had wheedled her brother Zhu Lin into pulling strings for a transfer. From then on, she stood out as the sole anomaly in a class full of three-digit scorers—the only one without a single perfect mark across all subjects.

Her bold stunt on the first day—dumping a drink on someone in front of everyone—had terrified the whole class. No one wanted to risk offending her, so they kept their distance of their own accord. One or two people avoiding her was mere distance; an entire class doing it amounted to isolation.

Yan Mian wasn’t much of a talker and had made only one friend, Li Nian, in the months since transferring. She hadn’t noticed the subtle shift.

The original host, however, who had grown up surrounded by crowds, was acutely sensitive to such things. Unable to fix it, she channeled her frustration at being ignored into tormenting Yan Mian.

Week after week, Yan Mian remained the sole unlucky target.

With these thoughts in mind, Zhu Lexing lowered her gaze—only to lock eyes with her deskmate, who was gripping her pen beside her.

The girl hastily ducked her head at the attention, her thick bangs hiding her eyes like a startled bird. Her hand trembled around the pen.

The textbook in front of the girl bore the neatly written name “Song Yingying.” Zhu Lexing hesitated for a few seconds before saying, “S-see… see you later?”

Whatever the original host had been like was her own business. No one was forcing Zhu Lexing to act the same. She wanted to be herself.

Song Yingying didn’t respond, but Zhu Lexing didn’t press. She grabbed her bag and left. Her decisive exit meant she missed the stunned glance Song Yingying shot her way a second later.

~~~

Zhu Lexing squeezed through the crowd on the spiral staircase, her eyes darting everywhere. She had debuted as a child star and had just turned nineteen before transmigrating. In those nineteen years, her actual time in school paled in comparison to all the hours spent traveling between sets. Everything here felt fresh and new.

On second thought, transmigrating wasn’t so bad—especially as a vicious female side character.

She had both parents, who didn’t meddle in her life; power, wealth, and beauty to boot. As long as she didn’t target the protagonist, her life would be smooth, fulfilling, happy, and long.

Buoyed by growing confidence, Zhu Lexing thought of Yan Mian again. She wanted to check on her but worried about startling her. Fortunately, she didn’t dwell on it long before Li Nian descended from above, ponytail bouncing as she hummed a tune.

Zhu Lexing thought her glance had been discreet enough, but with her high visibility, Li Nian spotted her through the crowd and rolled her eyes pointedly.

“…”

The reaction at least confirmed Yan Mian was fine. Zhu Lexing relaxed and stepped aside.

Li Nian’s disdain for her? Whatever. Zhu Lexing wasn’t exactly a fan of the original host either.

Zhu Lexing’s retreat only reinforced Li Nian’s conviction that “Zhu Lin wants to head home.” She gave Zhu Lexing a once-over, pursed her lips, but held back any insults.

Unfazed by the dismissal, Zhu Lexing massaged her wrist under the weight of her bag. By the time she reached the school gate, a silver Maybach was already waiting, flanked by a drab gray nanny car.

Old habits kicked in, and Zhu Lexing instinctively opened the door to the latter.

The driver was a gaunt woman with sharp cheekbones and a listless expression. She jumped at the sound, instinctively flashing a rapid series of hand signs.

Zhu Lexing stared blankly—those gestures were faster than any magic seal.

At the same moment, an icy system prompt chimed in her ear: 【Plot deviation detected. Collected one point of reader energy, reaching minimum boot energy threshold. Notifying Host.】

The car fell silent for several seconds. Zhu Lexing gave the woman an awkward nod, closed the door without another glance, and stepped away.

Half a minute later, the Maybach peeled into traffic like it was fleeing for its life. By the time the woman’s gaze shifted from worry to pure bewilderment, the sunset glow had been swallowed by the encroaching dusk.

A knock sounded at the window. Yan Mian stood there, backpack slung over both shoulders, her soft hair brushing her neck. Flecks of fading light danced in her eyes as she smiled faintly. “Good evening. Thank you again for today.”