I’m already laughing.
If you don’t believe me, go watch the recording.
We’re watching the recording.
Alright, Jiang Jian Yue’s smile still needs practice.
She urgently needed a tutorial video on “how to pretend to be a normal human being.”
After finishing the second episode, she wiped away nonexistent tears from the corners of her eyes.
A compilation video about Chantui caught her attention.
The content was basically some close-up shots of Yuki Asahi from the past two episodes, with meaningless pink filters and music layered on top.
Freshly uploaded, not many views.
The title was the cringe-worthy “Bao Bao, you’re a beautiful Bao Bao.”
Oh no, just hope there won’t be a best friend or rival-type of the same gender in the future, or else you could already imagine Yuki Asahi’s fan art flooding the sky.
Having people around you drawn in fan art and such… it’s disgusting.
She was about to close it, but was drawn in by the recommended videos, her eyes widening as she hesitated whether to click on this shady video titled: “Why Jiang Jian Yue is a Loli Mother.”
First of all, at 1.58 meters tall, she’s not considered a loli in Japanese anime… probably.
And what’s with “mother”? Xia Ya, when did you show up?
In the end, she didn’t have the courage to click it, instead hitting ‘Not Interested’ with a flip of her hand.
After browsing through a few theory videos, Jiang Jian Yue more or less understood the viewers’ opinions.
More than eighty percent of viewers believed she had ulterior motives for approaching Yuki Asahi—absolutely a villain.
The biggest evidence wasn’t the main content.
But the OP scene, where in the silhouette of the protagonist group, currently only Yuki Asahi is a clear card, and after comparison, Jiang Jian Yue’s figure isn’t there.
Tch, what a ridiculous theory.
She could be considered a complete outsider—no push from fate, no foreshadowing.
Hero or villain, it all depended on Jiang Jian Yue’s own mood.
If the anime production team existed, did they deliberately designate her this way?
There’s no way a setting could just drop from the sky saying her family and Yuki Asahi’s family were enemies, right?
Hiss… actually, hard to say.
When her father left Japan, he sold the remaining enterprises in Japan in a bundle.
During the personnel changes, someone was bound to lose their job…
The anime barely depicted Yuki Asahi’s family.
The role of adults seemed almost absent in his childhood.
What if it really was her family’s fault?
Jiang Jian Yue turned off the computer screen, flopped onto the bed, stuck her head out to look at Yuki Asahi on the floor bedding, and asked, “Did you report to your parents?”
“…Yeah.”
Yuki Asahi answered with his back to her, watching a video on his phone in a flat tone.
So cold.
Jiang Jian Yue felt a little annoyed, buried her head in the new quilt, and muffled her voice.
“It’s nice, having family around.”
Yuki Asahi paused, stuffed his phone under the pillow, and turned over to lie flat.
“Are your family members busy, Jiang Jian-senpai?”
There was no response.
Yuki Asahi narrowed his eyes, hesitating whether to repeat it, when the phone under his pillow suddenly vibrated.
He checked.
It was a message from Jiang Jian Yue via LINE.
“I haven’t seen my family in a long time.”
“Eh, is that so.”
The two of them chatted via LINE on their beds, the only sounds in the room being their breathing and fingers tapping on screens.
With the phone screen between them, Yuki Asahi’s courage grew a little.
At least, he would actively bring up topics.
And Jiang Jian Yue, freed from the shackles of language barriers, earnestly gave her advice as an adult.
As the conversation continued, Yuki Asahi started feeling that the other person didn’t seem like a vibrant teenage JK at all, but more like a disappointed man commonly found on the internet.
Over thirty years old, scolded by his boss as a worthless waste, exhausted after returning home, wanting to be intimate with his wife but getting rejected, a rebellious son pestering him for Qian Jin every day, and finally lighting a cigarette in the park, only able to relax and chat with a stranger he met by chance—yet his words carried an air of fatigue.
Alright, maybe Yuki Asahi’s imagination was a little too wild.
The girl’s body was wrapped in the quilt, less than two meters away from his futon, talking across a phone screen, a subtle atmosphere lingering in the air.
So youthful, so bittersweet.
Such an experience was something Yuki Asahi could never have imagined before.
He used to drift aimlessly, his head filled with fear and hatred, crying under the covers on countless nights, cursing his own cowardice.
Then, after every new humiliation, he’d feel regret for not fighting back, unable to fit anything else in his mind.
Now, Maeda Kaiichi was dead, and the pressure vanished all at once.
He should also enjoy a normal high school life.
The future was bright.
But… in the future he imagined, Jiang Jian Yue wasn’t there.
The gap between them was as vast as a chasm.
Maybe when this incident was over, they’d part ways.
Why did Jiang Jian Yue help him?
Maybe it was just a rich person’s fleeting kindness—when the young lady got bored, she’d toss him aside like a worn-out shoe.
If Jiang Jian Yue could hear Yuki Asahi’s thoughts, she would surely sing softly: “But my inferiority overwhelms all who love me.”
Poor child.
Jiang Jian Yue had similar experiences to Yuki Asahi.
The only difference was that, for her, those memories were from a very, very long time ago.
She couldn’t even remember whether iced tea cost three Qian Jin or three point five.
Their conversation lasted late into the night.
Finally, after exchanging goodnights, they turned off the lights and slept.
The night passed peacefully.
When Yuki Asahi opened his eyes drowsily, he noticed the tray on the floor by his pillow, the faint aroma of sandwich and milk wafting.
The sound of flowing water drifted faintly from the main bedroom’s bathroom.
Rubbing his eyes, Yuki Asahi glanced at his phone.
It was after seven in the morning—time to get up.
He climbed out of his futon and went to the bathroom.
The door was open.
A girl’s back was facing the sink.
A black dress with a slim waist accentuated her slender figure.
Lace adorned the hem, hiding her mysterious parts, and her legs, wrapped in black stockings, swayed slightly.
Long gray hair draped over her body.
She gathered it into a bundle and tied it into a ponytail with a black hair tie—then, as she let go, her hair billowed out, and the tie fell to the floor.
In the mirror, the girl’s face was frighteningly cold, scarlet pupils glinting with irritation.
But as she caught Yuki Asahi’s reflection in the mirror, she gradually calmed.
“Awake?”
“Yeah.”
“Your clothes.”
Jiang Jian Yue pointed to a bamboo basket beside her, where a set of new men’s casual clothes lay.
“You…”
Yuki Asahi stood behind her, eyes fixed on the back of her neck, hidden by her hair, frowning tightly.
Just now, when she gathered her hair to tie it, Yuki Asahi saw the net-like red veins on the back of her neck.
Jiang Jian Yue silently wrapped a lace choker around her neck, then put on long-sleeved gloves, covering herself completely.
“No need to worry.”
Jiang Jian Yue didn’t answer Yuki Asahi’s question, moved aside, and prepared to leave the bathroom.
She knew that as long as she didn’t want to speak, Yuki Asahi wouldn’t dare to ask.
Pa…
As she passed by, her hand was suddenly grabbed.
Through the lace, she could distinctly feel the warmth of the other’s palm.
“What…”