After Backstabbing The Villain, The System Allowed Me To Enter The Book Again - Chapter 27

Shen Huaixin didn’t understand at first. “Huh?” she blurted out. Shen Chumo set down the supply list and looked at her.

“Xin-jie, where’s your share of supplies?”

“You bought Dad his cigarettes and liquor, you bought Mom her usual skincare products, and as for me… you bought crates of my favorite snacks. But what about yourself?”

“Why is yours the only share missing?”

Shen Huaixin froze. She hadn’t expected him to notice so quickly—just a few glances at the list, and he had already found the flaw. The reason was obvious: once she completed her final mission, she’d be gone. There was no point wasting money on things she’d never use.

She hurried to find an excuse. “I just haven’t gotten mine yet. Don’t worry—it’ll be more than the three of yours combined.”

“…”

Shen Chumo stayed quiet for a moment, then nodded, as if reluctantly accepting her explanation. Still, worry lingered deep inside him, an unease he couldn’t quite put into words, buried but persistent.

With the supply issue settled, Shen Huaixin carried the last unopened package into her bedroom, shut the door, and began unwrapping it carefully.

Though it was technically a children’s toy, it was fitting enough. Judging by Shen Chumo’s true birth age, he was barely a year old—a child among children.

She had scoured shopping sites, testing all sorts of keywords, before finally settling on this gift: a star projector.

Spherical in shape, supported by a stand, it could project more than a hundred thousand stars, with dynamic rotation, random shooting stars, even 3D projection effects. All it needed was four AA batteries. Shen Huaixin hadn’t even realized technology had advanced this far.

The seller had already installed the complimentary batteries. She drew the curtains tight, turned off the lights, placed the projector on the floor, and switched it on.

In an instant, a lifelike starry sky spread across the ceiling. Countless stars glittered, scattered in varying sizes, shining bright and resplendent. A faint Milky Way flowed above, starlight spilling across the world, making even her princess bed look dreamlike.

Shen Huaixin held her breath, cupping her hands together as if to catch the falling stardust. She knew it wasn’t real, just a man-made illusion of romance.

People’s perception of beauty might differ, but the pursuit of beauty was eternal. Shen Huaixin planned that, under this sky full of stars, Su Zihan would appear with a carefully prepared cake, singing the birthday song. At that moment, Shen Chumo would surely be overjoyed.

His friendly online companion “Han” would finally step into reality to meet him. Not a day earlier, not a day later—on his birthday, like an angel descending, offering the purest blessing.

Her imagination was limited by poverty. She didn’t know how the rich could casually take a private jet during afternoon tea just to touch the clouds. But this—this was the most healing scene she could think of.

On Monday morning, she sought out Su Zihan and laid out the plan in detail, especially the entrance and opening lines. Not wanting to take too much of Su Zihan’s time, she scheduled it right after school, arranging transportation so Su Zihan only needed to show up and sing.

To put her at ease, Shen Huaixin even provided the driver’s and car’s details, as well as the address and estimated duration, promising everything would be done within thirty minutes.

Su Zihan crossed her arms, listening. “Why do you want me to go? Can’t you celebrate with him yourself?”

“Because… maybe he wants to see you.”

“I get the feeling he doesn’t really like me,” Su Zihan frowned, skeptical.

“That’s just an illusion,” Shen Huaixin insisted firmly. Her small account had already built a strong bond with Shen Chumo—they even fell asleep on voice chat sometimes. That was close enough to call each other good friends. “He just doesn’t show it.”

Su Zihan adjusted the white buttons of her school uniform and asked, “Then why are you doing all this for him? Do you like him? What about Qi Yi?”

Shen Huaixin spread her fingers wide, then slowly curled them into a fist, making a classic hand gesture.

“I want them all.”

Su Zihan’s pupils widened, shocked. “You… shameless! Fickle! Wanton!”

Truly a cultured girl—even her insults were refined.

Shen Huaixin raised a brow. “So you’re saying you’re single-minded?”

“Of course! I’d never be like you… torn between two!” Su Zihan snapped.

Shen Huaixin almost wished she had recorded that, to play it back later when reality slapped her in the face. But by then, she would be long gone.

She shook her head at Su Zihan, speaking gravely: “Don’t be too quick to boast. Who knows what the future holds?”

Su Zihan steered the conversation back. “So what—you’re just playing around with Shen Chumo?”

“Playing? He doesn’t even deserve that.” Shen Huaixin sneered. “He’s just a dog in my house—come when called, leave when dismissed.”

With her persona set, she relaxed into the chair, sipping milk tea in utter comfort.

“Shen Huaixin, you really are… cold-blooded.”

She accepted the words with a smile. “Thanks for the compliment.”

But in her mind, she pictured Shen Chumo’s damp, shining eyes and his soft, black hair falling across his forehead. Truthfully, he was like a young, untrained pup. A sudden curiosity stirred—what would he look like grown?

Would he really become the figure described in the book: a face cold as eternal ice, power unmatched, a scornful master of all, yet inwardly barren and hollow? The thought dazed her, until Su Zihan’s voice pulled her back.

“I have a condition.”

“Go on.”

“I don’t want an audience.” Su Zihan paused. “When I celebrate his birthday, I don’t want anyone else around.”

Shen Huaixin blinked. It wasn’t unreasonable—she had already planned to stay in the background. Still… a strange feeling rose. She thought of Shen Chumo’s neat handwriting, his detailed solutions, the nights when they’d fall asleep talking, and how in the end… he would believe it had all been Su Zihan.

Seeing her silent, Su Zihan pressed, “What? Not acceptable?”

Shen Huaixin smiled. “Of course it is.”

After all, she was the one who had set this all in motion. There was no point hesitating now. She promised, “No one will disturb you until it’s over.”

Su Zihan nodded and turned to leave. Tilting her head, a faint smile at her lips, she added, “I hope it’ll be a birthday he never forgets. And you too.”

Back in class, Shen Huaixin opened her book and began revising diligently. After these weeks of study and Shen Chumo’s guidance—plus the foundation she’d built back in high school—she had recalled a fair amount. Still, she hadn’t yet tested her true level, so her confidence wavered.

“How’s the review going, everyone?” the Chinese teacher asked.

A chorus of groans answered. The room was heavy with gloom.

Next came the clearing of desks, the rearranging of seats, spacing everyone apart to prevent cheating.

Once the room was settled, silent enough to hear a pin drop, the teacher gave one last reminder: “Treat this mock exam as if it were real. The results will come with a city-wide ranking and projected cutoff score. Take it seriously.”

The already tense air grew even more suffocating.

Chinese was one of Shen Huaixin’s stronger subjects, and she hoped to start off well. She glanced around—at the young faces marked with seriousness, nerves, or longing for the future. To her, as a weary adult, all those emotions carried a unique beauty of youth.

She lowered her head, smiling softly, before a grim thought struck her.

【Shen Huaixin: Thunder God, if I get first in the whole school, does that count as breaking character?】

【System: …You’re overthinking.】

【Shen Huaixin: What about big improvement?】

【System: No. The original wasn’t stupid.】

Relieved, Shen Huaixin rolled up her sleeves, ready to give it her all. The exam papers were distributed. She flipped through front and back, noting the types of questions, building a sense of the test.

The rustle of turning papers soon quieted. All that remained was the steady scratch of pens.

Her gaze, however, lingered at the end of the test. It was a while before she finally picked up her pen, her mind still replaying the essay prompt:

“The thread in a mother’s hand, the clothes upon her wandering child. Stitched tightly before he leaves, for fear his return be long delayed.”
Please write an 800+ word essay on the theme of family.
Requirements: (1) Decide your own argument; (2) Choose your own angle; (3) Any form except poetry.

A cruelly fitting topic.

Shen Huaixin was already worrying about what Shen Chumo might write. He had not been living well recently—treated as invisible at home, often cold and hungry, shut away in a basement without heating or air conditioning, with no place at the dinner table. On rare occasions when food was offered, it was leftovers gone sour.

Her role was being steadily usurped by Father and Mother Shen, and she could only watch it unfold. All she could do was patch things afterward, but not too much—her persona restricted her.

As a child, Shen Huaixin had often wished she and her brother could trade places. But now that wish had come true, she found no happiness in it. Looking at Shen Chumo was like looking at another version of herself—one treated even worse, forcing her to relive the pain she thought she’d buried.

“…”

【System: Reminder—you’ve spent ten minutes and still haven’t written a word.】

When she finally put pen to paper, her hand trembled faintly.

After the exam ended, the students were given ten minutes’ break before the next subject. Shen Huaixin went to the restroom, where a group of girls chatted as they washed their hands. The rush of water made their words indistinct, but she caught the gist.

“Who do you think will take first in the whole school?”

“Qi Yi, obviously. Do you even need to ask?”

“Maybe Shen Chumo could compete. His math is strong—almost never loses points.”

“Yeah, right. His Chinese is trash. Last time the teacher had him read classical prose, I nearly died laughing—three mistakes in a single sentence. And don’t you feel like he’s a little…” One girl tapped her temple, “…off in the head?”

“Exactly! I’ve noticed that too.”

The comment drew plenty of agreement.

“You can’t exactly call him brain-damaged… but he’s definitely a freak.”