The food arrived after they had waited a while. Neither of them spoke during the wait or while eating; silence spread, and both had equally poor appetites.
It was not until Song Fu said she wanted to leave again that Lu Yan Zhi lowered his eyes and spoke. “How long do you need to calm down?”
Song Fu’s expression was complicated. “Before my birthday.”
That was next week—soon—but it was excruciating for Lu Yan Zhi, who itched to get an answer the very next minute. His lips pressed into a straight line, and he said uneasily, “When you say you need to calm down, you mean considering being with me, not just brushing me off and dumping me first, right?”
Where was the trust between people? Song Fu shook her head helplessly. “I just need to think it over properly.”
She needed to think about the choice between her vain persona points and the main storyline points.
Lu Yan Zhi’s mood visibly soured, as if someone owed him a couple million, but he still insisted on seeing Song Fu to the entrance of her neighborhood. However, his cold-faced posture in the elevator, arms crossed, scared a mischievous kid who had just entered into facing the wall.
Song Fu got into a taxi and left, turning her head to look at the boy who remained standing in place.
In the windy weather that still felt cold, the boy wore a black-and-blue jacket as he stood there, tall with long legs, head slightly lowered, looking a bit pitiful. She should have realized earlier that someone so good-looking could not be a mere background character.
The driver, an experienced man, could not help gossiping. “Fighting with your boyfriend?”
Song Fu said, “Not my boyfriend.”
The driver sucked in a cold breath. “You broke up, huh.”
Song Fu: “…” How did he reach that conclusion? “No, we never dated.”
The driver sighed in lament, then launched into a theory he had summed up himself: just make do and get by, saying the two of them, handsome man and beautiful woman, looked perfectly matched. “We can’t just cut off a good connection because of a momentary impulse, right?”
Momentary impulse.
Song Fu silently repeated those four words.
When he had stopped her for dinner, she had nearly agreed right then.
Was she really someone who could not resist temptation like that? Song Fu tsked lightly.
[Just agree if you want to. Host, you don’t need to overthink it.] The system showed an uncharacteristically laid-back attitude; even its discordant mechanical voice sounded faint. [Anyway, that multiple-choice question doesn’t exist at all. The main storyline can’t be salvaged no matter what.]
The system usually gave precise percentages down to the decimal for probabilities to be rigorous; it rarely spoke so definitively.
Hearing the resentment practically overflowing from it, Song Fu felt too awkward to speak and just gave a dry “oh.”
[It’s fine, Host. Not your fault.]
The system was indeed fuming mad. [It’s this male lead. He doesn’t follow the plot at all. When he should develop feelings for the female lead, he acts indifferent, but with the host, he becomes so easy to win over!]
It had just checked the data and found that the male lead’s favorability toward the female lead had always stayed at stranger level, meaning [even if the host hadn’t done the tutoring, the male lead wouldn’t have developed feelings for the female lead as the plotline required—and moreover—]
‘What?’ Song Fu asked.
[The female lead is already together with her childhood sweetheart, that friend from her other server.] The system sounded utterly despondent.
Song Fu: “…”
The main storyline was truly done for.
Back at the dormitory, Song Fu pulled out her little notebook for keeping accounts and planned to recalculate the money Lu Yan Zhi had given her.
Her roommate saw her return earlier than before and casually asked, “Didn’t hang out with that little brother for a bit?”
Song Fu tapped away on the calculator app on her phone. “The situation is extremely complicated.”
Her roommate raised a brow and asked cheerfully, “What? He finally couldn’t hold back and confessed to you?”
Song Fu abruptly looked up, her expression exactly like she had been spot on, which excited her roommate. “Really! I knew it, he definitely has feelings for you. What did he say? You’re not thinking of turning him down, are you?”
Song Fu had actually gotten her answer by the time she got out of the taxi. “Not planning to.”
“What?!” Her roommate’s voice doubled in volume, eyes going perfectly round. “Does he have some flaw you can’t accept?” With a face handsome enough to fill you up, when he had walked around the school that day, the campus forum had nearly exploded.
Song Fu covered her ears from the shout and quickly explained, “Temporarily. Temporarily not planning to agree.”
“Even though we’re adults, he’s still a high school student. It’s not great.” At least wait until graduation.
Her plan was to follow the plotline’s arrangements as much as possible, patching up points in the minor details to avoid ending up without even a C from the previous newbie world in the final settlement.
Song Fu and the system had seriously analyzed the grade breakdown from the previous world and found that, aside from the persona points and the guaranteed points from the broken engagement, she had also gotten some scattered plot points. Those included points from the male lead dating, the female lead’s career line, and such.
They concluded that as long as the end result was right, no matter the process, she could still get some points.
“I see.” Her roommate understood. “That won’t be long, just a few months.”
Song Fu nodded.
She finally finished calculating the last entry.
She opened her phone’s banking app, selected transfer, and hit the limit.
She discovered the daily transfer limit was fifty thousand, let out a “wow,” and quickly did the mental math. ‘Gonna take forever to transfer.’
She wouldn’t finish even by her birthday.
[Just give him the card.] The system suggested.
Song Fu hesitated but first transferred back the fifty thousand. She tried again and got the limit prompt once more. ‘Using someone else’s bank card is illegal.’
The system’s built-in electric buzz even glitched for a moment. [……Forgot about that.]
‘I’ll call the bank and ask if they can raise my limit.’ Song Fu did not dwell on it. She called the bank, and the person on the other end formally explained that this service required in-person handling.
It was Sunday; after today, classes would start again. Song Fu put her coat back on, thinking to head to the nearest branch and get it done quickly.
The map showed one right near the school, just a short walk away.
…
After being asked about the specific purpose of the money, she successfully transferred it out, precise down to the decimals.
She had just stepped out of the bank when her phone rang.
“Hello?” she answered.
The voice on the other end was cold. “I’m downstairs at your dorm. I want to see you.”
She could guess it was about the money transferred back. Song Fu walked under trees sprouting green buds, tilting her face up to the clear sky. “Okay, I happen to have something to tell you too.” She paused. “Let’s meet at the bleachers by the sports field.” It was less crowded there; saying some embarrassing things would not feel as awkward.
Lu Yan Zhi agreed with a sound but did not hang up. He stayed quiet for two seconds. “Didn’t you say before your birthday? Why did you figure it out so fast?” Not even three hours had passed.
Song Fu did not beat around the bush. “But my answer should be good news.”
“Really?”
Song Fu decided to be precise. “Half-good, half-bad?”
After all, it was not a direct yes; there were preconditions.
Lu Yan Zhi had too many questions to ask, which boiled down to one sentence. “We’ll talk in person.”
The sunset glow dyed half the sky red, stretching shadows long until they inadvertently overlapped.
Lu Yan Zhi sat down in a random spot and answered the phone, his dark eyes indifferent. “I don’t accept reconciliation.” He should have known the price when he posted; did he think deleting the post made everything fine?
The lawyer briefly explained the specifics and hung up.
Lu Yan Zhi swiped his phone screen twice more and saw the transfer message again—some change, some whole numbers. What else could that be but drawing a clear line?
Good news.
He lacked the courage to hope, fearing greater hope would mean greater disappointment.
His entire heart felt like a tangled ball of yarn; even finding the end would only tighten the knots when pulled.
“You’re so conspicuous.” Song Fu approached in big strides, remarking as she entered.
She had spotted Lu Yan Zhi the moment she entered the sports field. He was all black from head to toe, hands in pockets, sitting there in deep contemplation like a poisonous black mushroom.
With her experience from the dorm earlier, to avoid shattering the boy, Song Fu stated the precondition first. “Temporarily.” She paused heavily. “Temporarily, we can’t be together.”
“What does that mean?” Lu Yan Zhi seized the key point. “Then when can we?”
Was it a delaying tactic?
“After you graduate high school.” Song Fu’s tone was light and cheerful as she sat beside him, their arms brushing.
Lu Yan Zhi stared intently at her profile, dark eyes dazed as if struck by a pie from the sky. “We can after graduation?”
“Doesn’t your high school crack down hard on puppy love?” Song Fu brought up what he had said before. “You can use this time to sort out your final thoughts too, but for your college choices, I suggest… hey!”
She did not finish.
He scooped her up directly, her feet leaving the ground.
If the chairs had not been arranged so tightly, Song Fu had no doubt Lu Yan Zhi would have spun her around.
His strength really made no sense.
“No take-backs.”
“No take-backs.”
When Song Fu’s feet touched the ground again, she felt a solid sense of relief. She brought up the transfer. “I didn’t mean anything by returning the money.” She gave the excuse she had prepared. “You know my family situation. It’s better if I have less money on me, and I couldn’t spend that much anyway.”
Lu Yan Zhi seemed not to hear at all; he no longer cared. Song Fu noticed his gaze on her lips, her face heating up. She ruthlessly raised a hand to cover the mouth across from her. “Not yet.”
“Mmph.” Lu Yan Zhi’s eyes sparkled with his mouth covered, nodding obediently.
Song Fu’s lips curved up as she used the nickname from the game. “Alright, it was my fault. Thank you, brother, for forgiving me. It won’t happen again.”
With that, she lowered her hand from his mouth.
Lu Yan Zhi’s thin lips parted lightly. “You still like older guys.”
Song Fu: ?
“No!”