05
After this careful buildup, Zhu Lexing’s eyes gleamed with mischief. Before anyone could snap out of their daze, she rattled off her words at top speed: “You’re just an Omega with a pretty face. Sure, you’re good-looking, but a fragile little O like you who can’t even lift a couple of books? I could take ten of you with one hand!”
The crowd, who had been holding their breath and pretending not to hear her insults: ?
The system didn’t strictly mandate a particular tone for the phrasing, so after racking her brains, Zhu Lexing decided to bluff her way through with some cheeky trash talk—
To avoid getting picked apart by the system, she even threw in a few deliberate digs at Yan Mian.
The system in her ear, which had begun tallying points the moment she finished the line, suddenly fell silent.
It seemed to be encountering a host completing a task in such a bizarre way for the first time. Its voice carried an uncharacteristic hint of hesitation, and after a few seconds, it finally announced: 【Task 1 completed twice. Current points: 2.】
Zhu Lexing let out a long sigh of relief.
Whether it was straight talk or sly banter, as long as it didn’t hurt Yan Mian or zap her with electricity, it was good enough.
Sensing the moment to quit while she was ahead, she reined herself in. But as she came back to her senses, the living room had fallen into dead silence. Her gaze drifted downward, meeting Yan Mian’s peculiar stare.
The fear in the girl’s amber eyes had faded considerably due to the abrupt interruption, replaced by a complex swirl of emotions as hard to decipher as a pie chart.
Yet Zhu Lexing read the jumble of thoughts perfectly, because at its core, it boiled down to three simple words—
Crazy bitch.
A quick glance around showed the servants gawking at her like they’d seen a ghost, which only made Zhu Lexing feel even more awkward.
Under Yan Mian’s unwavering gaze on her stunning face, Zhu Lexing’s embarrassment deepened.
And her way of showing it? A awkward twitch of her lips—
Which only made her expression look even sourer.
“What are you staring at? Got a problem with what I said?”
Her words sent ripples of shock through the room. No one dared contradict her outright, and they all voiced their objections in unison—except for Yan Mian, who stayed silent.
Zhu Lexing, who could build ten sandcastles in three seconds flat from sheer mortification, didn’t dare look at Yan Mian again. After another round of wild gesticulations to warn off the crowd, she stomped upstairs a few steps at the system’s prompt.
Her tall, slender figure retreated from view, and only then did the lingering fear in Yan Mian’s eyes fully dissipate.
With Zhu Lexing gone, the living room occupants still didn’t dare slack off. The male servant bent low before Yan Mian, his voice dripping with fawning eagerness: “Miss Yan, dinner is ready. Shall we serve it now?”
Yan Mian glanced up at the male servant who usually took pleasure in ignoring her. With just a few commands from Zhu Lexing, he had gone from overbearing to the picture of devoted servitude.
She hooked the corner of her lips in a faint smile, without so much as lingering her gaze on him, and headed straight upstairs.
The male servant’s smile froze on his face, and it took him a good while to recover.
Zhu Lexing, of course, was oblivious to this little interlude.
The original host’s room was on the third floor, connected seamlessly to a bathroom and walk-in closet. Plush carpets covered the floor, and the king-sized bed in the center could easily fit ten Zhu Lexings.
The room carried the same woody scent as the car, utterly soporific.
The duvet was soft and cozy, like sinking into a cloud. Zhu Lexing buried her face in the pillow, eager for a deep, oblivious sleep, when the system’s icy voice echoed through the bedroom:
【Surveys show that approximately 891 school-life novels have been banned for portraying protagonists who hate studying. To prevent this world from becoming the 892nd, please lead by example, Host, and complete today’s homework.】
Zhu Lexing was so groggy she barely registered it the first time. Only when the system repeated itself did her perpetual poker face finally crack.
“Do homework?!” Zhu Lexing clutched her chest in exaggerated shock. “Name one book-traveler protagonist who does homework! I just pissed off Yan Mian for you—shouldn’t you handle this crap yourself?!”
System: 【1. You completed today’s task; Yan Mian’s favorability neither rose nor fell, so no offense occurred. 2. Aren’t you one?】
Zhu Lexing was one second away from dropping dead on the spot: “…No wiggle room at all?”
The system answered silently: None.
With no choice, Zhu Lexing rolled out of bed and slumped at the desk.
She dumped her entire bag onto the table, spilling out all the books. At the system’s nudge, she flipped open a few and gripped her pen. The text swam before her eyes at first glance, and upon closer inspection, she knew some of it—but not much.
So Zhu Lexing started with the multiple-choice questions.
Worse still, whenever she spaced out for more than ten seconds, the system would pop up unbidden: 【Please lead by example, Host, and promote wholesome, positive original content.】
When Zhu Lexing tried searching for answers on an app, the system sternly reminded her that was hardly positive. After several such back-and-forths, she was regretting the book transmigration entirely.
She had zero interest in cramming her brain with knowledge.
By the time Zhu Lexing muddled through the homework with half guesses and utter confusion, it was well past midnight. The night sky hung heavy, stars faint and dim. Exhausted, with her face practically glued to the workbook, she yearned to crash—until the system chimed: 【Daily task refreshed. Yan Mian has not yet retired for the night.】
Zhu Lexing: …?
Weren’t Omegas supposed to be delicate and frail? How were modern high school girls such night owls!
“What’s she doing?”
System: 【Why not go see for yourself, Host?】
Zhu Lexing was baffled. Zhu Lexing was floored.
After some internal debate, she sadly realized her sleepiness had been worn away too.
Even knowing it was the system’s ploy, after a moment’s hesitation, Zhu Lexing opened the door.
The living room lights were on, faint lecture audio drifting from within—barely audible in the past, but her Alpha senses now picked up even the slightest sounds with crystal clarity.
Yan Mian sat in one corner of the sofa, her shadow stretched long by the nightlight. She seemed to be waiting for something, but it never came. In the quiet, she began packing up and slowly headed upstairs.
Zhu Lexing only noticed it then: Yan Mian’s footsteps were incredibly light as she walked, like those of a kitten with an exquisite sense of personal space, terrified of trespassing into anyone else’s territory.
Yan Mian lived on the second floor, too far away to see the faint light spilling from Zhu Lexing’s room.
Once the door clicked shut, Zhu Lexing finally tilted her head back. 【Making me listen to this in the middle of the night?】
The System promptly went silent, playing dead. Zhu Lexing lay on her bed, tossing and turning as she pondered. The only thing that could possibly keep Yan Mian waiting so late had to be Zhu Lin.
For a moment, Zhu Lexing couldn’t help pitying her. Sympathy welled up inside her, sending her thoughts drifting until the first faint light of dawn finally lulled her to sleep.
She was jolted awake by a knock at the door—and in that instant, Zhu Lexing had her answer.
What could be more suffocating than transmigrating as Scum A?
Transmigrating into a book and still having to drag yourself to school at six in the morning.
Under the servants’ timid, quail-like stares, Zhu Lexing forced herself through her morning routine. Her eyes remained heavy and bleary, every step radiating pure negative energy.
An exquisite breakfast was laid out on the long dining table in the living room, but the seats across from hers sat empty. Yan Mian was nowhere to be seen.
Zhu Lexing perked up a little and inquired around. It turned out Yan Mian had already left.
She had zero interest in breakfast—in fact, it struck her as a bit wasteful. But this was probably just daily life in a wealthy family, so Zhu Lexing held her tongue. After some internal agonizing, she ended up dazedly munching on a jam-slathered piece of bread as she climbed into the car.
The road was smooth, and Zhu Lexing slept the whole way.
In front of Mingzhong School, the school emblem gleamed against the light, flanked by two stone lions carved so lifelike and imposing that they seemed ready to spring to life.
A long line snaked in front of the iron gates, everyone clad in crisp Mingzhong uniforms. They were being checked for proper appearance and tardiness. At the front stood a girl with long hair and an ordinary face. Yan Mian was beside her. The two knew each other, but they weren’t close, and the atmosphere hung awkwardly between them.
Yan Mian was tall and slender. In front of outsiders, she always kept her jaw set and her back ramrod straight—like a proud, aloof little deer, pure and untouchable.
Zhu Lexing poked her head out of the car window, sighing inwardly. What a perfect female protagonist.
The next second, Yan Mian’s gaze landed on her, those eyes instinctively flashing with wariness.
Zhu Lexing: “…”
What a perfect female protagonist. Too bad she had to run into a total scumbag.
She raised a hand to open the car door. To stay in character, Zhu Lexing slung her backpack loosely over one shoulder and strolled out casually. Tall and striking, with a glamorous, commanding beauty, her unhurried steps drew every eye and held it fast.
Yan Mian keenly noticed how the breathing around them hitched.
The realization that Zhu Lexing was so popular left Yan Mian feeling deeply uncomfortable. She lowered her lashes.
Even now, the events of yesterday still felt like a nightmare. Holding back the urge to just walk away and let Zhu Lexing embarrass herself in public was already the extent of Yan Mian’s forbearance.
Zhu Lexing, of course, was well aware of Yan Mian’s dislike for her. She planned to slip away sensibly, but as her gaze skimmed over the girl beside Yan Mian, she couldn’t help curving her lips into a smile.
The girl, who had been silent until then, suddenly spoke up. “Where’s your school badge?”
Zhu Lexing’s smile froze on her lips. “…Well…”
There was no school badge pinned to the front of her shirt, and after she’d torn through her bag the night before, it sure wasn’t in there. Zhu Lexing decided to answer honestly.
After all, given the original host’s status, even if she got points docked, Zhu Xing wouldn’t make a fuss. But right at that moment, the System chimed in: 【Please say this line, Host: “School badge? None!”】
Zhu Lexing: ???
Its urging came out of nowhere. Bewildered, she was about to ask what was going on when the System added: 【Complete the task for ten points.】
…Ten points! That meant ten whole days of freedom!
Zhu Lexing immediately plastered on a disdainful smirk. “School badge? None!”
An awkward silence fell. The girl who’d been called out choked for a moment, opening her mouth to respond, but Yan Mian lifted her face. Her round, peach-blossom eyes locked straight onto Zhu Lexing. “You—”
Whatever she was about to say was cut off as the driver hurried back, pinching a school badge between his fingers. He looked embarrassed. “Lexing, you left your school badge in the car and forgot to grab it.”
In front of outsiders, the original host wasn’t quite so flashy as to be addressed as “Miss” outright.
The System fell silent again, offering no further instructions. Zhu Lexing took the badge. The driver lingered, his gaze flicking between her and Yan Mian as if he wanted to say something—but he held back.
Yan Mian lowered her eyes once more, resuming her role as the stunning, wooden beauty.
Zhu Lexing figured the task was done and turned to leave, a pleased smile tugging at her lips. But then the System spoke up again: 【Please perform an action fitting the character’s persona, then ask Yan Mian to pin the school badge on for you.】
Zhu Lexing: ???
What the hell was this? Public flirting?
She was convinced the System wasn’t trying to reward her points at all—it just wanted her dead.
Zhu Lexing opened her mouth to refuse, but the System pressed: 【Task reward: twenty points.】
Zhu Lexing: 【Thirty points.】
A beat of silence, and the System quietly conceded.
With thirty days, she could do so much more good than harm.
With that in mind, Zhu Lexing cleared her throat lightly and turned to Yan Mian.
Yan Mian kept her gaze downcast, her fingertips clenching tightly beneath her sleeve.
But Zhu Lexing didn’t do anything rude.
Her long, knuckled fingers casually tugged at her collar, loosening it to reveal a glimpse of her elegant collarbone.
The next moment, she held out the school badge with a slight arch of her brow. “How about… you pin it on for me?”
