After Backstabbing The Villain, The System Allowed Me To Enter The Book Again - Chapter 22

Replies kept pouring in, countless follow-up comments repeating “Wishing 99”. With a clatter, Shen Chumo’s phone slipped from his hand and hit the ground.

He touched his cheek, then his ear, and—expressionless—pulled the blanket over his head the way Shen Huaixin did. It only made him hotter.

—So that’s what it meant.

He was such a blockhead, unable to read the tangled thoughts of a girl. Outside, thunder rolled and rain crashed down, lightning splitting the night and stabbing straight into his chest, drumming in time with his heart.

Something was shaking. At first Shen Chumo thought it was just his heartbeat—until he saw a new message flash on his phone.

Good Friend: It’s raining.

He pressed a hand to his chest. Mm. It’s raining.

The next day, Su Zihan went to school as usual. The only difference was—she brought her phone.

The school didn’t allow phones, so even though she owned one, she rarely carried it, partly to avoid distraction. To her, it was practically a decoration.

But today, she couldn’t help keeping an eye on the school forum, refreshing every so often as if driven by anxious compulsion. Each time, she’d quickly minimize the page, just in case someone glimpsed her screen.

As she expected, apart from a newly popular thread from last night—“Shocking! A girl who treats me so well actually said something like this!”—most of the discussions centered on the cultural performance. Among them, “Chasing Dreams” and “Romeo and Juliet” drew the most attention. Some classmates even uploaded recordings.

In the bathroom, she secretly muted her phone and played the video, savoring her own performance again. Her expressions and emotions had come across well, she felt—not professional, perhaps, but not out of place either. By school standards, it was among the top.

But she also saw jarring comments like: “Fun to watch live, but on replay Romeo just sounds like he’s reading lines.” Or: “Not much CP chemistry, though I admit the school hunk is handsome.”

Her brows furrowed slightly. Bracing her sore legs, she shifted position and opened another post she had saved long ago—

“School Belle Showdown: Su vs. Shen! To be settled at the Cultural Performance!”

The voting had already split apart. What was once neck-and-neck now showed her leading by a wide margin, leaving Shen Huaixin far behind. When she refreshed, the post updated with breaking news:

“Everyone, after votes from both the judges and the public, based on the two beauties’ performances at the cultural show, we’ve decided to award the school belle crown to—Su Zihan! This will be recorded in school history. Congratulations to Su Zihan, officially crowned our school belle!”

Staring at those last words, Su Zihan felt both relieved and strangely empty. Was this shallow title really what she wanted?

She didn’t know. Ever since Shen Huaixin’s change of character, the things she used to grasp so easily seemed to slip from her fingers, even if she never cared much for them before.

No matter. Qi Yi had already seen Shen Huaixin’s retreat. From here on, he would realize who was more outstanding, who was the better partner to stand by his side.

Besides, the mock exams were on Monday. Qi Yi disliked fools—and Shen Huaixin’s bottom-ranked grades were well known.

She closed the post without reading further comments.

But the homepage showed a new thread had appeared. She intended to shut the browser, but her finger slipped—refresh.

Just one more. One last look.

The top post’s title made her breath hitch, her chest sinking like a stone. She raised the phone closer, making sure she wasn’t imagining things.

—“Shen Huaixin: Live Performance of ‘Chasing Dreams’.”

She hurriedly tapped it open. The cover showed Shen Huaixin standing alone on stage, a single spotlight isolating her from the world. She hit play—the video was muted. Remembering she had no headphones, she panicked, stuffed the phone away, and quickly turned on the tap.

Water splashed loudly before her. Staring into the mirror, her gaze froze.

That post…

The poster was…

Impossible. No, it had to be a mistake.

Su Zihan shook her head violently, plunged her hands into the cold water, scrubbing until her fingers were numb. Only after drying them with tissues did she dare peek at her phone again.

She rushed back to the classroom, unsettled, barely able to concentrate. Even when the teacher called on her, she stumbled—rarely ever at a loss for words.

As soon as the bell rang, Qi Yi leaned over. “What’s wrong? Didn’t know the answer?”

A sudden anger surged through her. She flung off the hand he stretched out. Betrayed by her companion—and now he dared ask so innocently what was wrong?

Qi Yi froze. He wanted to ask more, but with so many eyes around, he swallowed it down, deciding to wait until after school.

The tension between them dragged through the day. At last, when class ended, Su Zihan slung her bag over her shoulder and hurried off. Qi Yi finally caught her in a quieter spot, gently grabbing her arm.

“What’s wrong? Are you upset with me?”

“…Qi Yi.” Su Zihan’s expression was cold, her gaze falling on the hand holding her arm. It was unbearably offensive. “Let go.”

“…” He released her.

Su Zihan asked, “The post. Was it you?”

“You mean Shen…” He paused, then corrected himself at her look. “The video of her singing—I posted it.”

Her fists clenched, her tone sharp. “And you have nothing to say for yourself?”

“I thought it was good, so I shared it.”

“Ha. Good. Really good! So good you ignored your own performance just to watch hers!”

Qi Yi frowned, patience thinning. “Su Zihan, I don’t see why posting that is a problem. If anything, it’s you—why do you always look at Shen Huaixin with prejudice? Yesterday, when she asked for help, if it weren’t for you, I would have—”

He bit his tongue. Even though he had ultimately made his own decision, deep down, he knew he resented Su Zihan for it.

She saw it clearly. A cold laugh escaped her. She wrenched her arm free. “In that case, there’s nothing more to say.” She turned and walked away.

Qi Yi stood frozen.

In the past, he would have chased her without hesitation, secretly delighted that she cared enough to be jealous. He would have indulged her sudden moods. But now, all he felt was that she was being unreasonable. He wasn’t even sure if it was she who had changed—or him.

Perhaps they both needed space.

When Shen Huaixin got home after school, she immediately sensed something was wrong.

Usually her mother greeted her with a smile, but today both parents were there, faces heavy, speaking in hushed tones that stopped the instant she entered. The ominous feeling in her chest deepened. Pretending not to notice, she greeted them:

“Dad, Mom, I’m back. Why didn’t you come home yesterday?”

“Xin, sit down.” Her father’s face was grave. Her mother tugged his sleeve, trying to dissuade him, but he continued regardless. “There’s something we need to tell you.”

Her mother quickly interjected, “Maybe we should—”

“What, keep it from her forever? Better she recognize this beast’s true nature sooner.”

Shen Huaixin’s heart sank. She had already guessed most of it. No matter how she tried to cover things up, the story was driving forward with unstoppable force. She could only sit and listen as they revealed the truth about Shen Chumo’s stolen identity.

According to police investigation, Shen Chumo’s origins were unclear—whether victim or child of a criminal group was unknown. The real Shen Chumo had been found. He had died from long-term hunger, exposure, and lack of medical care—his body wasted to skin and bone.

DNA tests confirmed he was undeniably Shen bl00d.

“We’ve already sent him with the driver to give a statement at the station,” her father said, one hand patting her mother’s shoulder in consolation, though his own face was dark with anger. “He must have learned of Chumo’s background and impersonated him for wealth and status. Shameless!”

“My poor Chumo… my child…” Her mother sobbed, words tumbling out brokenly.

Shen Huaixin stayed silent, finally asking, “So… what will happen to him? Will you still keep him?”

Her father hesitated, clearly uncertain what to do about Shen Chumo now.

“Keep him? Of course.” Her mother raised her head, eyes full of hatred as her voice choked. “Didn’t he covet our riches? Then let him stay here and taste them fully!”

“Mom, even if Shen Chumo is hateful, usually he—”

Before she could argue, the system’s warnings blared in her mind. Panic rising, she blurted out,

“Why not hand him over to me? I’ll make sure he learns what it costs to impersonate my brother!”

“…”

Her words perfectly aligned with the novel’s original plot. Her mother wavered, stunned into silence. At last, she muttered that she would need to think carefully.

That night, gloom hung heavy over the household. Her mother wept on and off, folding paper ingots with mechanical repetition, her hollow eyes dripping tears onto the stacks.

Shen Huaixin could find no words of comfort. She copied her mother’s movements, folding silently, praying in her heart that the real Shen Chumo would forgive her. She didn’t mean to excuse the villain’s crime—she only wished to lessen the hurt, no matter to whom.

After filling an entire sack, her father finally persuaded her mother to stop. She hadn’t slept the night before. Obediently, she shuffled away, frail and stooped, a shadow of the radiant woman she had once been.

Shen Huaixin’s eyes grew wet. Watching her mother, she finally understood the crushing blow her brother’s death had dealt her. Years of fruitless searching, finally believing heaven had answered—only to plunge into a deeper abyss.

When her mother had gone to rest, she softly asked her father,

“Dad, one thing I don’t understand. When you reunited with him, why didn’t you do a DNA test?”

Her father’s jaw clenched, fury flashing in his eyes. “That wretch was cunning enough to use Chumo’s hair!” He drew a long, shuddering breath. “Your mother’s right. Letting him go would be far too easy. We cannot forgive him.”