After backstabbing the villain, the system allowed me to enter the book again - Chapter 2
After dispersing the bullying party, Shen Huaixin returned to her room, carefully closing the door behind her.
As the only daughter of a wealthy family, the original owner had been spoiled without restraint by her parents. They gave her a princess bed, a lavish walk-in closet, and a room decorated like a dreamlike palace. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, its soft white glow spilling into every corner, draping the entire space in a layer of enchanting brilliance, as though she had stepped straight into a Disney fairy tale.
Having lived in poverty for more than twenty years, Shen Huaixin was overwhelmed at her first glimpse of such a sight. This was far beyond the humble imagination of the working class—she could only exclaim that this trip was already worth it.
Holding her breath, she tiptoed toward the closet, her heart filled with a nervous excitement. The so-called beautiful and malicious supporting female character, with genes strong enough to even bless her brother—how stunning must she be herself?
Shen Huaixin pushed open the door, flicked on the light, and instantly gasped.
Smoky eyeshadow, sausage lips, and an outrageously gaudy floral headpiece—she looked like a painting by Picasso, a vivid embodiment of surrealism.
Shen Huaixin staggered back a step and squeezed her eyes shut.
This isn’t real…
Yes, yes, this world wasn’t real… She would go home eventually.
Exhaling slowly, Shen Huaixin gathered her courage and opened her eyes again. She rummaged around the vanity for some makeup remover. After scrubbing, rinsing, and dousing herself with water several times, she finally raised her head above the sink and saw a girl in the mirror.
“…”
She held her breath and pressed her lips together. The girl in the glass pressed her lips too, autumn-water eyes gazing back at her. Embarrassed by the stare, Shen Huaixin looked down, and the girl in the reflection smiled gently. Damp, cascading hair slipped off her shoulders like a waterfall, only accentuating her ethereal beauty.
As a child, Du Mingxing had run wild through the fields, kicking at water in irrigation ditches, her hair tousled by the free wind until the sun burned her skin red-hot and steaming. Though her features bore some resemblance to Shen Huaixin’s, she could not compare to the refined, unearthly loveliness of the original body.
Shen Huaixin now stood before the full-length mirror, brimming with self-satisfaction. Humming to herself, she tried on several outfits, admiring her reflection, before finally choosing a light, casual set—comfort first, since this was her own home.
The first to return was her mother, fresh from a spa. Shen Huaixin froze for a moment, stunned by such an enchanting, radiant beauty of a woman—one could easily believe she was her elder sister rather than her mother.
“Xin Xin?” Madam Shen also stopped short. For a moment, it was as if mother and daughter were meeting for the first time. “Not wearing makeup today?”
She had always known her daughter wasn’t unattractive, but since the girl had her own ideas of beauty, she hadn’t interfered with the painting and smearing on her face. Now, however, she realized what a waste of natural beauty that had been. The more she looked, the more she adored, pulling her daughter to sit beside her, unable to get enough.
At first Shen Huaixin felt awkward, but the warmth of maternal affection quickly melted her guard.
“My darling is so beautiful. From now on, less makeup—or Mama can hire a professional artist for you, make sure you’re painted just right.”
Shen Huaixin instantly caught the lifeline, nodding eagerly. “I’ll stop wearing makeup. Doing it every day is tiring anyway.”
From nearby came a soft, tentative, “Mama.” Madam Shen turned with a gentle smile.
“Chumo, are you settling in well? Mama brought you both some desserts, see if you like them.”
She gestured for the servants to bring them in. Shen Huaixin’s mouth watered at the delicate pastries, but she quickly waved a hand. “I’ll pass, I’m cutting back on sugar.”
Shen Chumo’s eyes sparkled brighter than she’d ever seen. Clearly, he loved them.
He grabbed the pastry and swallowed it almost whole, smearing cream all over his mouth, then stared intently at Shen Huaixin’s portion.
She had no doubt that if this were the original owner, anyone daring to covet her dessert would’ve had it smashed straight into their face.
Amused, she pushed the plate toward him. “You can have it.”
【Plot Deviation Value -1. Current Value: 99. (Conclusion: At this rate, the collapse of the small world is inevitable.)】
It was the first time Shen Huaixin had seen the deviation value decrease. A tiny step for herself, but a giant leap for the world. Her confidence surged.
Madam Shen was delighted by her daughter’s attitude. Looking from one child to the other, her eyes reddened, tears welling up.
“My child, you’ve suffered so much…”
Before the words were finished, tears spilled down her cheeks. Shen Chumo froze, cheeks puffed full, then raised a hand to wipe her tears—only to be pulled tightly into her arms.
Shen Huaixin noticed him blinking hard, rubbing his eyes, accidentally smearing cream across his lashes and eyelids.
She didn’t know what Madam Shen imagined, but she knew what the plot had in store: the more the mother lavished love on her son, the more bitter her hatred would become once she discovered he was an impostor and that her real child was dead. In her eyes, Shen Chumo would be both murderer and usurper, kept alive only for the sake of vengeance.
Shen Huaixin passed a tissue to her mother, then another to Chumo to wipe his cream-smeared face.
His handsome features scrunched together, more comical than tragic, like a child making exaggerated faces. She could hardly bear to watch the clumsy imitation.
Imitation? The word suddenly struck her as apt. That was exactly what it felt like—an inhuman being mimicking human expressions, uncanny and off-kilter, like fae creatures in fantasy films attempting to pass as men.
No wonder he would be bullied later—his terrible expression control would easily be mistaken for mockery.
Thankfully, Madam Shen was too consumed by grief to notice his face.
After swallowing the last bite, Chumo spoke. His voice, hovering between boy and man, was clear yet tinged with gravity. “Mama, I didn’t come back to make you sad.”
“How could Mama be sad…? I’m just—just heartbroken for you. So many years of hardship… I dreamed of this moment every night…”
“I didn’t suffer. I’m here, safe and sound, before you now.”
He patted her back, steady and solemn.
The genuine affection moved Shen Huaixin, but when she recalled the tragic fate of this “mother and son,” she couldn’t help sighing inwardly.
In the original story, under the abuse of the malicious supporting girl, she discovered Shen Chumo’s secret—his body’s ability to heal itself. She only tormented him more, then exposed him to her parents, who, suspicious, secretly conducted paternity tests. That was how the truth came out: Shen Chumo was an impostor.
Shen Huaixin resolved to change the ending. She would never be the informer—not just for the mission, but for Madam Shen’s sake.
Still, Chumo’s lies were told without a blink, dripping with sincerity. Her brief pity faded. She reminded herself never to drop her guard before the future final boss.
Glancing at the clock, she said, “Mama, now that the family’s together again, don’t be sad. Papa will be home soon, and we can all enjoy a happy reunion dinner.”
“You’re right, Xin Xin.” Madam Shen composed herself, dabbing at her tears. Even with her makeup ruined, her face radiated maternal devotion so deeply that Shen Huaixin felt a bittersweet ache in her chest.
During dinner, Shen Huaixin suggested hiring a tutor for her “brother.” Playing her part as the system-designated overworked corporate drone, she pulled on the mask of the vicious supporting character. Outwardly it seemed like she was doing it for Chumo’s sake, but each glance she cast him carried sharp, threatening intent, as if she only wanted to torment him.
Chumo, however, absorbed those daggered looks like a novice studying the world, then returned them in kind.
His eyes turned deep and predatory, like an eagle’s fixing on weak prey. Though Shen Huaixin knew he had yet to blacken into the ultimate boss, the sheer oppressive force made her heart pound, her cheeks heat, and her gaze skitter away.
She rolled her neck, feeling oddly uncomfortable, as though he’d added another head to her shoulders with just a glance.
She remembered the book’s description: bl00d splattering across his eyes, yet he didn’t flinch. His gaze cold, he slowly crushed the bones of the ability-user in his grip, life draining from them as energy streamed into him, devoured and absorbed.
That was no hero’s portrait.
Yet looking at him now, still in his juvenile stage, it was almost impossible to imagine.
“Huaixin, it warms my heart to see you care for your brother,” Father Shen said approvingly. “Since you’re getting along so well, why don’t we reconsider holding a press conference for him?”
In the original, the daughter had always objected, so the parents, respecting her wishes, delayed the announcement. They meant to wait until she came around, but instead of a press conference, they received the news of their son’s death.
Shen Huaixin almost agreed on the spot, but the system blared a character-collapse warning. She swallowed the words. A public announcement was a major matter, and the original owner’s strong opposition meant agreeing now would be wildly out of character.
With the warning still buzzing in her head, she said, “Let’s talk about it later.”
Her softened stance was enough to gratify Father Shen. Smiling, he heaped food into both children’s bowls, until Chumo’s was piled like a mountain. Madam Shen watched them all with a tender smile.
Shen Huaixin stared at her brother’s cheeks puffing up like a hamster’s. She added more food, partly out of curiosity to see if the villain could actually eat himself sick, partly out of wicked amusement. Could the gloomy, ruthless final boss really become a round little dumpling?
That night.
Shen Chumo woke from a nightmare, the phantom sting of a knife still sharp on his skin. He began to realize: wounds could heal, but they still hurt, and though invisible, scars lingered beneath the surface, faintly throbbing.
The dream had felt all too real, so close to today’s events that he remembered every emotion clearly—as if that was reality.
But there was one difference—
“…Sister?”
He whispered uncertainly to himself, forgetting for a moment that she forbade him to call her that.
In the dream, his sister had smiled at his healing wounds, teeth gleaming coldly. If enduring a little pain made her happy, then he thought he ought to bear it. Yet the pure, innocent malice behind that smile was seared into his heart, unforgettable.
But in reality, her methods seemed far less cruel. She only spoke sternly, cut his hair, and said she would hire him a tutor. Surely, those things were for his own good. Yet they puzzled him more than the dream, and he couldn’t understand why.
So he watched her more closely, studied her more deeply, finding that every fleeting change in her expression was natural and fluid, every frame something new and wondrous. Until, entranced, he’d earn himself a sharp glare, warning him not to overstep.
It didn’t matter. He thought again—he had plenty of time to find the answer.