After Backstabbing The Villain, The System Allowed Me To Enter The Book Again - Chapter 26

“What did you want with me?”

Having successfully escaped the paradox of electrotherapy, Shen Huaixin’s mood had improved considerably. She gave Shen Chumo a once-over. Today he wore an old shirt with yesterday’s jeans, topped with the standard blue school uniform jacket.

She remembered seeing many of his clothes thrown away yesterday, especially the branded ones—some barely worn once. Mother Shen would rather toss them into the trash than let him keep them.

If sold, they’d easily fetch a few thousand… enough to cover her monthly salary. What a waste.

“Nothing,” Shen Chumo shook his head, glancing at his phone. “It’s almost nap time. I’ll head back to class.”

“?” Shen Huaixin scratched her head. “Alright, I’m sleepy too.”

Shen Chumo himself didn’t know why he had called her over. He couldn’t think of a reason—only that if he didn’t stop Shen Huaixin now, she would drift farther and farther away from him.

It had started with just a casual glance as he passed by, noticing her walking side by side with someone else. Then they stopped by the flowerbed, talking, an aura forming between them that no one else could intrude upon.

The autumn wind stirred, leaves scattering. When their gazes lingered on each other, the scene—handsome boy, beautiful girl—looked harmonious and well-matched. The sight froze his very bl00d.

Qi Yi’s piercing gaze… he loathed it.

The upward curve of Qi Yi’s lips at her… he despised it.

Everything about Qi Yi—his looks, his clothes, his expressions, his gestures—standing beside Shen Huaixin was unbearably dazzling, intolerable even for a second.

What made it worse was that Shen Huaixin’s natural expressions toward Qi Yi were softer than those she showed him.

The rustling leaves whispered. Shen Chumo stood by a tree at a distance, but could still sense their conversation. Inwardly, he prayed: Don’t say yes to Qi Yi. Don’t admit you like him.

But things never went his way. He could read the trend of where her words were headed—and it was exactly what he didn’t want to see.

He had heard more than once that Shen Huaixin had pursued Qi Yi before, only to be rejected. It seemed the rumors weren’t baseless after all.

Shen Chumo pulled out his phone, opening “Han’s” Moments feed, scrolling through the photos one by one. The longer he looked, the tighter he gripped his phone. He had been wrong all along. Shen Huaixin hadn’t been photographing Su Zihan—she had been photographing Qi Yi.

Every corner of the frame leaked his presence.

But whether Qi Yi or Su Zihan, both stole far too much of her attention.

The news of Qi Yi inviting Shen Huaixin out had already reached Su Zihan. These days, everything about Shen Huaixin spread like wildfire. Word even had it that an internet-famous singer had covered Chasing Dreams, sparking heated discussions among fans.

The playboy she had once looked down upon had now become an untouchable figure, far beyond her reach. Compared to that, her long-cherished obsession with the school belle title suddenly felt like a joke—no one cared about the result anymore.

Just like in the Northern Song dynasty: people remembered Su Shi, who failed the imperial exam, but few could name the top scorer, Zhang Heng.

All the emotions she had suppressed now sprouted in her heart, peaking when she saw Qi Yi striding back into class, light-footed.

Before he could even sit down, troublemakers started teasing:

“Qi Yi, where’d you just go?”

“Still remember the flag you planted?”

Everyone turned toward him for confirmation. That boy smugly explained, “Don’t tell me you forgot? He swore, ‘Even if I jump off the teaching building, I’d never like Shen Huaixin!’”

“Oh, yeah, I remember that.”

“Now that you mention it, I remember too…”

Whispers filled the room. Qi Yi had no reply.

Su Zihan’s deskmate nudged her, whispering, “Zihan, you okay?”

She shook her head. Her deskmate, feeling indignant after receiving so much help from the class genius, couldn’t hold back:

“I told you when Shen Huaixin came asking for his number, she had ulterior motives! And look, I was right! If not for you, she’d never have gotten Qi Yi’s contact! You’re just too kind, always thinking of others, not seeing how they’re only using you.”

A boy who was close to Qi Yi hooked an arm around his shoulder, still teasing: “Don’t be shy, bro. School belle, school hunk—you two look perfect together. And didn’t she chase you hard before? Why not give her what she wants?”

At the mention of “school belle,” Su Zihan’s head snapped up. But she realized she was in a void. Everyone had tacitly agreed that the title belonged to Shen Huaixin. No one objected.

So this was it… The “victory” she had clung to, the hollow title of school belle, had been nothing but her own delusion.

She looked at Qi Yi. His friends hung on his shoulders, and though he neither admitted nor denied anything, she knew him well—his silence often meant tacit agreement.

She had thought the lost charm would drive him away. Instead, it had the opposite effect, spurring him into an impulsive confession to Shen Huaixin. How utterly ironic.

In a single day, she had lost everything—both the name and the reality.

So Su Zihan lowered her head with a faint smile. The once-clear depths of her eyes darkened. If that was the case… then she could no longer be blamed for breaking her word.

That evening, Shen Huaixin received Fang Xiaozheng’s punctual message: a photo of several beautifully cooked dishes. His cooking had improved remarkably, enough to make her mouth water.

She scrolled back, copied her last reply, and pasted: Looks good. Busy today, let’s eat tomorrow instead.

Fang Xiaozheng: Okay.

They had already grown used to this—one always flaking, the other always feeding his mother.

Just then, Tianyu sent her a message, gossiping about Qi Yi’s confession and sincerely congratulating her on “winning the school hunk.”

…This wasn’t so bad, was it?

Not really dating him, but enough to make the heroine jealous.

And Shen Chumo had appeared right on time.

As they chatted, Tianyu sent a photo. It showed the storage room on her first floor, now converted into a small warehouse. Several boxes of supplies were stacked inside. Shen Huaixin’s eyes lit up.

Tianyu boasted: Well? Enough for us to camp out? This stash will last us an entire winter break.

Shen Huaixin couldn’t deny being touched. Without foresight, to prepare this thoroughly just for a promised “camping trip,” gathering both tools and food, was rare and precious indeed.

She replied: How much did it cost? I’ll cover half. After all, I’ll be eating too—I won’t freeload.

Tianyu immediately refused.

Night deepened. Shen Huaixin lay in bed scrolling her phone, her eyelids growing heavy. Her phone buzzed. Through the haze of sleep, she saw a message from Shen Chumo.

Can we start a voice call? You don’t need to talk.

Too tired to bother with her voice-changer, she readily agreed.

Neither spoke. Only the sound of their breathing filled the line. She yawned wide, closed her eyes, and within moments slipped into sleep, her breathing deep and rhythmic.

Basement.

Listening to her soft breaths, Shen Chumo tried to restrain the black contamination particles from drifting everywhere. But they were too many, too unruly, spilling out no matter how he fought to contain them.

The cold, damp basement seemed to nurture them endlessly. Only her steady breathing gave him focus, strengthening his control, keeping the corruption barely within limits.

But he didn’t realize the contamination spread not only through air—but also via electromagnetic waves.

The black particles crept along the signal, seeping into her phone, and then into her body.

The faint sounds from her end made him feel as though she were right beside him. Closing his eyes, he could picture it: her delicate face, turned sideways, asleep next to him, lips slightly parted, serene and peaceful.

He reached out, tracing her cheek. Smooth as silk. She squirmed at the ticklish touch, turning over, but he didn’t stop. Like a man possessed, he brushed her lips.

So soft.

He wanted her to stay with him forever. Like this. Not thinking of Qi Yi. Not anyone else.

In her bedroom, curtains shut out the moonlight, shadows lying still.

The girl, clad in silk pajamas, lay sound asleep. Tiny motes seeped from her phone, coalescing into mist, thin as a cicada’s wings. The mist drifted toward her face, brushing her cheek—disappearing into her skin. She rolled over, and the mist followed, brushing her lips like a feather, vanishing at once.

She murmured something in her dreams.

On Saturday, a package arrived. Shen Huaixin, hamster-like, had already stockpiled plenty. She expertly stashed the goods in the deepest corner of the wine cellar. Except when Father Shen hosted guests, no one ever came here—it was the perfect hiding place.

Yet now… supplies were piled everywhere. Anyone walking in would see. The thought of how to explain herself if her parents discovered it gave her a headache.

In the novel, her parents had been infected almost immediately. Living so close to Shen Chumo—the equivalent of standing at ground zero of a nuclear blast—meant the long incubation period only ensured they couldn’t escape their fate. The supplies, most likely, would go unused.

Her thoughts wandered as she stood on tiptoe, struggling to stack a pack of instant noodles onto the top shelf. Something wobbled. The boxes beneath began to sway. She lunged to steady them, nearly toppling herself.

“Careful—”

A steady hand caught her from behind. She knew the voice instantly. After neatly arranging the goods, she exhaled in relief. Shen Chumo extended his hand, helping her down.

He surveyed the nearly bursting cellar and said with certainty: “Sis, these supplies aren’t for camping.”

Bound by system rules, Shen Huaixin couldn’t spoil the future. She laughed it off: “This is called born in sorrow, die in ease. Ever heard of it? Keep asking and I’ll—”

“I’ll help you hide them,” he cut in.

She blinked. Impossible. His basement was cramped—barely enough space for a mouse, let alone crates of supplies.

“How?” she asked before she could stop herself.

He raised a finger to his lips.

“…”

She nodded, dropping the question. She could guess: his ability was awakening. For him, hiding supplies wouldn’t be too hard.

It also meant the countdown for this world had officially begun.

Still, the fact that Shen Chumo was willing to risk exposure to help her stash goods—did that mean their sibling bond wasn’t so bad?

She mulled it over, then opened a cupboard at the back of the cellar, retrieving a bottle of ‘82 Lafite. Popping the cork, she pulled out a supply list hidden inside.

Shen Chumo frowned at the empty bottle. “Where’s the wine?”

“Poured it out,” Shen Huaixin shrugged, handing him the list. “Here’s the full inventory. Keep it safe.”

She left out the words use them when you need to, only stressing that no one else could discover it.

Shen Chumo skimmed the list, his brows knitting tighter.

Shen Huaixin, thinking she had overlooked something, asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Where’s yours?”