Chapter 39 Part 2

As for modeling, it wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment idea for Zhu Lexing. Back when Shi Ruofeng had first revealed her side gig drawing comics, she’d privately messaged Zhu Lexing asking if she’d be interested in serving as a character reference.

At first, Zhu Lexing hadn’t gotten it, thinking Shi Ruofeng wanted to draw her 1:1 as a character. Shocked, she’d replied: That wouldn’t be great! Don’t let 3D cosplay bump into 2D paper people!

Shi Ruofeng had sent back a string of dots.

-I’m drawing for class. I’ve drawn Li Nian too many times, and the teacher told me to find some new faces.

Zhu Lexing: “……”

“Why me?”

“Because I don’t want to paint a couple, and I’m not close to Song Yingying.”

As for Yan Mian, she was too busy to even be mentioned.

“Besides, you look like you’ve got nothing but free time on your hands.”

Zhu Lexing had to admit that Shi Ruofeng had a knack for cutting straight to the heart of the matter.

Thanks to her previous experience, after navigating a maze of twists and turns, Zhu Lexing still made it to the building downstairs from Shi Ruofeng’s home. To her surprise, the door to Qin Zheng’s place was locked from the outside. When an elderly passerby went by, Zhu Lexing asked casually, only to hear the woman say, “That family? They skipped town to dodge the debt collectors.”

Shi Ruofeng’s home was tiny. The bed sat tucked in one corner, while the rest of the space was dominated by a computer, paper, and pens cluttering the desk.

Zhu Lexing glanced around. It was an old apartment, nothing fancy in the way of renovations, but it had been cleaned spotless. Shi Ruofeng said offhandedly, “Li Nian tidied it up.”

Zhu Lexing couldn’t shake the feeling that she was just some random bystander.

She’d walked in on a couple’s intimate moment and couldn’t even voice a peep of protest.

As they chatted, Shi Ruofeng pointed out a spot for her. Zhu Lexing followed her instructions obediently, striking pose after pose.

Shi Ruofeng faced her drawing board, the faint scratch of pencil on paper cutting sharply through the room’s stillness.

Zhu Lexing let her mind wander and asked the system: 【What’s Yan Mian up to right now?】

The system didn’t respond. Just as Zhu Lexing figured it had glitched out for no reason and was about to curse it into permanent oblivion, Shi Ruofeng spoke up casually. “I was starting to think that story about you being sick was bogus.”

Zhu Lexing froze. “Why would you say that?”

“You’ve changed too much.” Shi Ruofeng paused her sketching. “Every word out of your mouth sounds like a fib. It’s only natural to get suspicious.”

Her words stung a little, but they sent a chill straight down Zhu Lexing’s spine. “……What do you mean, a fib?”

Shi Ruofeng tilted her head and peered at Zhu Lexing from behind the easel. She didn’t say a word—just flashed her a smile.

Zhu Lexing felt a wave of profound unease crawl over her.

Song Yun worked at a psychological clinic.

It was a private practice, decorated in a cozy, laid-back style that felt more like a lounge for unwinding than a typical therapist’s office.

Song Yun waited just outside the door, apparently for Yan Mian. Spotting her, she waved her over.

The setup wasn’t exactly private. They sat in the open lobby, with people drifting in and out now and then. But somehow, the casual vibe put Yan Mian at ease.

Song Yun picked up on the shift in her expression. “You’ve changed a lot lately.”

Yan Mian tilted her head. “Have I?”

“Yeah.” Song Yun nodded. “It’s less a change and more like……you’ve relaxed. Has something shifted in your life recently?”

As a psychologist, Song Yun had no way of knowing about the health issues the two women had been dealing with lately.

Yan Mian skipped any mention of Zhu Lexing’s illness. Instead, she talked about entering the competition and earning a spot in the provincial round. Song Yun listened intently, her face lighting up with genuine delight. In the end, she said, “You really seem to love this kind of atmosphere.”

She poured Yan Mian a glass of water, which Yan Mian sipped slowly. “But no matter how much I love it, it’s not mine.”

“You could always build that kind of home environment for yourself someday,” Song Yun suggested. “With the person you care about.”

Yan Mian hesitated. “I don’t have anyone like that.”

Song Yun met her gaze. “Are you sure?”

“Of course.”

Yan Mian took another sip, falling silent for a few seconds. Then, as if trying to convince herself, she repeated softly, “No one.”

Aside from that initial exchange that left Zhu Lexing’s back crawling with dread, Shi Ruofeng spent the entire afternoon painting in silence.

When the alarm she’d set finally chimed, Shi Ruofeng yawned like she’d just snapped out of a daze. “All right, that’s a wrap.”

Zhu Lexing, who’d spent the afternoon on pins and needles: ???

A wrap? A wrap on what? Spell it out!

Only then did Shi Ruofeng notice the naked fear in Zhu Lexing’s eyes. She chuckled. “What’s going on in that head of yours? I just think you’re faking being sick. No need to look that horrified.”

Zhu Lexing stammered, “Y-you’re the one talking all cryptic. Don’t ask me why I’m freaked out……”

Shi Ruofeng put on a perfectly puzzled expression. “What did I say?”

Zhu Lexing was even more baffled.

Their eyes locked. A horrifying possibility flashed through Zhu Lexing’s mind—had the system wiped Shi Ruofeng’s memory? That was way too creepy!

Worse, the system had gone radio silent. Zhu Lexing didn’t dare keep talking to Shi Ruofeng. She edged toward the door. “I……I should head out?”

She’d barely taken a step when Shi Ruofeng called out, “Hold up.”

Zhu Lexing whipped around in terror, only to see Shi Ruofeng pull out her phone like it was no big deal. “Haven’t paid you for modeling yet. Come back next week?”

After some back-and-forth, Zhu Lexing pocketed the two-hundred-yuan transfer and trudged home, brimming with negative energy.

On the way, she mentally screamed for the system over and over. She finally got a reply just as she neared the house: 【Host, I’m here.】

Zhu Lexing thought, Of all times, you pick now to play it cool.

She recounted her entire exchange with Shi Ruofeng to the system in detail.

The response caught her off guard: 【The system did not erase Shi Ruofeng’s memory.】

Zhu Lexing: ?

If it hadn’t been erased, then why had Shi Ruofeng reacted like that? Was she faking it?!

Remembering how Shi Ruofeng had just tried to shove money her way, Zhu Lexing yanked out her phone and fired off a string of question marks.

【The system requires the Host to protect her identity for her own good.】 The system’s tone turned deadly serious. 【Characters in each world have unique settings. A single slip in your role could lead to irreversible consequences. If the protagonist uncovers you, there’s a high chance of triggering a plot kill. Remember: you only get one life.】

Zhu Lexing rolled her eyes inwardly. Duh, everyone only gets one life—

【……Hold on.】 Zhu Lexing cut in. 【You’re saying if I die in this world……】

【You die for real.】

Zhu Lexing: “……”

There was such a good thing?

No need to even reincarnate.

Subconsciously, Zhu Lexing harbored such wicked thoughts.

The next second, she suddenly remembered something and asked: 【Has Yan Mian discovered me yet?】

The System lied through its teeth: 【No.】

【If…】 Zhu Lexing frowned, proceeding with caution. 【If she does find out, will I die?】

The System replied: 【It depends on your favorability with Yan Mian. A negative value could trigger it.】

Zhu Lexing hurriedly pulled up the Favorability Interface: -180.

In the very next instant, a brilliant idea popped into Zhu Lexing’s mind—one that left even her marveling at her own genius.

【Then, what if…】 Zhu Lexing cleared her throat. 【I mean hypothetically. If our favorability reaches positive territory, and then I tell her, she won’t kill me off in the plot, right?】

The System fell silent for a few seconds.

【That depends on what Yan Mian thinks.】

Zhu Lexing: “……”

In the end, it all boiled down to Yan Mian’s attitude toward Zhu Lexing. If she saw her as a good person, they’d probably all live happily ever after in peace. But if the hatred lingered, Zhu Lexing was doomed to a bad end.

Zhu Lexing decided it was still safest to grind out those 800 Points and head straight home.

The Female Protagonist might be stunning, but one slip-up meant death.

The catch was, accumulating Points required contact with Yan Mian.

Zhu Lexing took a deep breath, steeling herself for the perilous road ahead. She would just have to keep pushing forward.

Amid their brief exchange, Shi Ruofeng finally replied: What’s up, Zhu Lexing?

That simple form of address halted Zhu Lexing’s flood of inner complaints.

She suddenly realized that even if Shi Ruofeng knew the truth, what did it matter? They had no reason to expose her.

Calling her Zhu Lexing was their way of saying: In Shi Ruofeng’s eyes, she was Zhu Lexing, plain and simple.

When Zhu Lexing arrived at the Zhu Family home, Yan Mian was nowhere to be found—much to her surprise.

She asked the servants blankly, only to learn that Yan Mian had left shortly after Zhu Lexing herself had departed.

Zhu Lexing checked with the System.

It claimed not to know.

Zhu Lexing decided it was the undisputed champion of pouring cold water on her hopes.

Now that she knew her only options were death or escape, Zhu Lexing pondered for a few seconds before choosing to just be herself.

She was already at rock bottom—any step forward was progress. Time to thrive!

Determined to live authentically, Zhu Lexing racked her brains, cracked open a book, read barely two pages, then used it to shield her face as she nodded off.

Her sleep had been spotty lately, and modeling that afternoon had kept her on edge. Now that she could finally relax, drowsiness hit her hard.

The System’s alert—that Yan Mian was almost home—jolted her upright.

Her abrupt movement startled the nearby servants. One ventured cautiously, “Miss Zhu, is something wrong?”

Zhu Lexing: “……”

She drained the water glass on the coffee table. “Nothing. Time to study!”

With that, she clutched the book and paced the living room, striding forth as if bathed in the scholarly glow of literature itself.

The servants sensed something was off with her today but felt too awkward to comment, so they quietly withdrew.

Before stepping out of the car, Yan Mian thanked Qin Yun.

She stood before the Zhu Family villa, its pristine white facade gleaming, while echoes of her recent conversation with Song Yun replayed in her mind.

“The way your face lights up when you talk about Zhu Lexing… it’s sweet.”

The words made Yan Mian’s sip of water falter.

A beat later, Song Yun had asked, “Do you think Zhu Lexing has truly turned over a new leaf?”

The question dragged Yan Mian’s thoughts back to Qin Zheng. Once someone became a total scumbag, there was no halfway redemption. They’d stick to their rotten path forever, convinced it was the only way to survive.

Was Zhu Lexing the same?

For a fleeting moment, Yan Mian felt disoriented.

She rarely dwelled on the old Zhu Lexing—the cold, brutal one who had filled her with genuine terror.

But then, brighter images flooded in: the Zhu Lexing who loved striking dramatic poses, who was sunny and gentle, patient and kindhearted—an Alpha through and through.

The shadows of the past lingered, undeniable. Yet a warmer light had begun to eclipse them.

Song Yun’s final question had been, “Have you forgiven her?”

Yan Mian strolled forward idly, recalling that the last time they’d spoken, Song Yun had asked the very same thing.

Her response then had come after a heavy pause: “I don’t know.”

This time, though, it was different.

“More than dwelling on the pain she caused, I want this stable life we have now.”

Yan Mian pushed open the door.

Twilight filtered into the room, casting long shadows. Liu Su was absent, leaving only Zhu Lexing—pacing back and forth with an upside-down classic clutched in her hands, eyes fixed on the pages while her mind wandered elsewhere.

Spotting Yan Mian, Zhu Lexing froze mid-step. “You—”

She didn’t ask where Yan Mian had been. Instead, she said awkwardly, “You’re back. Let’s eat, then.”

Yan Mian approached her, noting with each step how Zhu Lexing’s body grew tenser.

When she was mere centimeters away, she reached out.

Zhu Lexing held her breath.

The next instant, Yan Mian plucked the book from her grasp.

“It’s upside down,” Yan Mian said.

Zhu Lexing’s breath hitched. She felt like she was having a heart attack.

She inhaled deeply, exhaled, and mustered a straight-faced retort. “I like reading them upside down.”

What’s it to you if I read upside down?!

Yan Mian stared at her for a few seconds.

Just as Zhu Lexing’s bravado began to crumble, Yan Mian replied, “Mm. I like them that way too.”

Zhu Lexing: “…………”