After Bringing Joy to the Short-Lived Mad Young Lady - Chapter 4

After changing her clothes, Lin Shuxing regained her usual aloof demeanor, though her haughty tone still carried a faint nasal quality. “Come in.”

“Okay.”

Fang Yi had changed into a white shirt in the guest room, which surprisingly fit her perfectly. The simple cut accentuated her slender frame, making her appear even more cool and composed.

When she pushed the door open, her gaze involuntarily landed on Lin Shuxing—she was wearing the same pink top from their first encounter. The soft hue revived faded memories, gradually sharpening them in her mind.

The pink lent a touch of delicate charm to her pale cheeks. Her hair was casually pinned to one side, and as she turned slightly, her sidelong glance carried an indifference that seemed to dismiss everything.

Yet the faint blush on the tip of her nose and ears hadn’t completely faded, betraying a hint of hidden emotions.

Fang Yi met her defiant eyes and couldn’t help but curve her lips slightly.

Still just a child.

She had been like this herself as a child—perhaps even more arrogant, with eyes that often rolled in disdain, headphones on, hands in pockets, as if detached from the world.

Until one day, someone cornered her after school and demanded, “What’s your problem? Who do you think you’re looking down on?”

How had she responded back then? She couldn’t remember, but her attitude certainly hadn’t been good—definitely not as endearing as Lin Shuxing.

Lin Shuxing clasped her hands together, her face now free of tear stains, and spoke coolly, “Let’s talk.”

Fang Yi nodded. “Sure. About what?”

“Ms. Lin sent you here, didn’t she?” Lin Shuxing lifted her gaze, hesitated for a moment, then gritted her teeth and added in a whisper, “And what happened earlier—don’t you dare tell anyone!”

At this age where pride was everything, Fang Yi genuinely smiled this time. “Okay.”

Lin Shuxing’s eyes locked onto her upturned lips, inexplicably stirring a mix of embarrassment and irritation. “Is ‘okay’ all you know how to say?”

Fang Yi tilted her head slightly. “Hmm?”

“…”

System: #UltraHumanoidVibes# My host is a robot.

In the past, when dealing with a young heiress like Lin Shuxing, others would either flatter her or deliberately provoke her, their words layered with hidden meanings—no one was as wooden as Fang Yi.

Even Fang Yi herself hadn’t seemed this infuriating before. Back at the claw machine shop, she had acted like a caring older sister. Now, with that faint, teasing smile, it was as if she was deliberately trying to provoke the girl’s anger.

Yet Fang Yi’s gaze was so straightforward that Lin Shuxing couldn’t even find a reason to pick a fight.

Biting her lip, Lin Shuxing muttered, “So, do you accept this engagement or not?”

“Yes, I accept.”

Their eyes met, and the spacious room fell into silence once more.

Lin Shuxing didn’t show any particular expression, only slightly lifting her chin, her face tense. “What are you thinking?”

“I should warn you—marrying into the Lin family is a form of bondage in itself.”

“What do you mean? Are you planning to imprison me?” Fang Yi chuckled, even managing to joke. “Or is marrying in considered a form of selling myself?”

Lin Shuxing’s bedroom maintained the Lin family’s signature austere style—expensive, understated, and cold. Aside from the faint footprints pressed into the plush carpet, there were almost no signs of life.

The air still carried the bitter scent of medicine, which even the elegant fragrance of incense couldn’t fully mask.

“Pretty much.”

Lin Shuxing’s face was pale, her straight spine reminiscent of a slender white poplar in the vast desert. “If you want to refuse, there’s still time before the announcement.”

“I’ll give you some time to think it over. Once the contract is sealed, you’ll be mine.”

She lowered her eyes, not looking directly at Fang Yi, her light tone echoing in the room.

This wasn’t quite the nominal marriage alliance Lin Lan had described.

Fang Yi carefully considered her words. “Human trafficking isn’t allowed after the founding of the People’s Republic.”

“On top of the conditions Madam Lin offered, I’ll give you 300,000 a month as pocket money.”

Lin Shuxing’s gaze shifted, her lashes fluttering. “The condition is, you can’t flirt with other girls or embarrass me. Otherwise—”

The rest of the threat didn’t matter.

300,000.

That was 300,000!

Every month!

The system screamed: I’m in!

The system defected: She’s in too!

“After the engagement, you must maintain boundaries with female friends!”

Lin Shuxing narrowed her eyes like a wary leopard. “I don’t want to smell any perfume on you—especially from other women.”

“Without my permission, you can’t casually approach me or enter my bedroom.”

“Wash your hands before holding mine. Wear a mask in public places.”

“Remember my birthday and preferences. No durian before seeing me…”

Wow, a three-hundred-chapter rulebook.

Fang Yi patiently waited for the girl’s “Star Code” to finish before raising her hand. “I have a question.”

Lin Shuxing: “What?”

“Why was the engagement changed to me?”

Lin Lan’s answer couldn’t represent Lin Shuxing’s.

After a brief silence, Lin Shuxing frowned. “Do I need a reason?”

“I hate Li Sinian. She’s pining for some ‘white moonlight’ abroad while keeping a harem here, still pretending to be some devoted lover. It’s ridiculous.”

“The Li family requested the annulment first, but I was the one who dumped her!” She pouted unhappily.

Li Sinian was Lin Shuxing’s original betrothed, the sole heir of the Li family’s third generation—and, in a way, this world’s chosen one.

Fang Yi nodded, then asked, “So, did you choose me yourself? Was it voluntary?”

“…”

Lin Shuxing pursed her lips slightly, turning her head away unnaturally as she fiddled with her fingers, feigning indifference. “I drew lots.”

“Lots?”

“The mystic’s divination slips.”

The mystic again—just who was this person?

“Be careful not to get scammed.”

Fang Yi spoke earnestly. She didn’t fully believe in such things. After a moment’s thought, she added solemnly, “Times are changing. Anything that goes against your will is fraud—that stuff’s outdated now. If there’s anything else going on, tell me. I’ll help you.”

She sounded dead serious, making it hard to imagine her own grandmother was a renowned village shaman.

Yu Jiufeng—exorcisms, soul-summoning, curses, feng shui—she mastered it all. The old villagers claimed she was blessed by the Phoenix Spirit, that even malevolent entities dared not cross her.

As a child, Fang Yi, having seen little of the world and coming from a lifetime where technology wasn’t the norm, had foolishly believed it all, thinking her grandmother was a guardian deity who carved out a haven in their chaotic, turbulent mountain village.

Later, when she left her small town for higher education and watched teachers wielding rulers as they scribbled physics formulas and chemical equations on blackboards, Fang Yi suddenly remembered—oh, Grandma used to mix things into her holy water too.

To put it nicely, it was called wielding science as a sword to vanquish all demons and monsters.

To put it bluntly, it was just fraud—this so-called “divinity” was probably more like delusional nonsense.

But when Grandma heard these lofty insights from her brilliant granddaughter, who had climbed all the way to the nation’s top university, she only rolled her eyes and said:

“Ignorance is bliss—you don’t know sh1t.”

Fang Yi sat upright, her spine straight and demeanor impeccable, looking every bit like an intellectual sent down for propaganda work.

Lin Shuxing stole a sidelong glance at the woman, toying with her slender fingers before murmuring softly, “If anyone needs to be careful, it’s you.”

Dark lashes veiled the cool detachment in the girl’s eyes. She had never once placed her wishes in the hands of something so intangible, let alone fallen for such childish tricks.

That day, when the ritual master had placed a bamboo cylinder filled with the names and birth characters of the candidates, she had already rigged it before the drawing even began.

“Since it’s settled, sign the agreement before you leave.”

Lin Shuxing tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, opened the bottom drawer, and leisurely retrieved a contract, her tone slipping back into the aloofness of someone accustomed to authority. “I won’t treat you unfairly.”

“Alright, I’ll have a lawyer friend look it over before signing. No rush.”

Fang Yi fiddled with her phone, sending a few messages before abruptly sensing a dangerous gaze. But when she looked up, all she saw was Lin Shuxing’s pouting profile.

The girl let out a soft, displeased hum through her nose. “It’s Lawyer He, isn’t it? You two must be really close if she’s checking this kind of agreement for you.”

“Yeah,” Fang Yi nodded, belatedly lifting her head in surprise. “How’d you know? Do you two know each other?”

She hadn’t mentioned the lawyer’s surname.

He Lühua—He Shuanghua—was a legend in the top-tier law firm, known as the “Undefeated Queen.”

Fang Yi still remembered the first time she saw He Shuanghua.

Fresh out of law school, He Shuanghua had worn an immaculate white shirt, often buried in case files, her demeanor still tinged with youthful naivety.

But the light reflected in her glasses was sharp, unyielding—impossible to obscure.

She would stand in court for destitute strangers, drive hundreds of miles for justice, risking her life to crack unsolved cases in rural towns.

Yet this formidable lawyer, whose presence could freeze frost and snow, was also a hopeless romantic—strung along for three or four years by some mysterious young heiress, without so much as a single photo together, nearly quitting her job to become the woman’s gilded canary secretary.

She was Fang Yi’s assigned mission target, forced into the partnership to repay a debt of points. Every one of her wishes revolved around love, something Fang Yi understood absolutely nothing about.

It was the kind of dynamic where He Shuanghua would sigh dramatically, lamenting, “My heart aches for the rose trapped by love. The white moonlight is gone, and I can’t sleep at night—my heart remains unresolved.”

(“Rose” was her pet name for the heiress.)

Fang Yi had no idea what she was talking about but would still offer earnest advice: “That’s so sad. Maybe take some sleeping pills?”

Somehow, this bizarre mismatch of communication styles had blossomed into friendship. They talked past each other, creating a strange harmony where neither fully understood the other, yet occasionally swayed each other just enough to make it work.

“Something like that,” Lin Shuxing replied flatly. “She’s faced the Lin family in court before. She’s decent.”

“What a coincidence.”

Lin Shuxing lifted her gaze. “Yes. It was the first time the Lin family’s legal team ever lost.”

So this is the kind of connection it was.

Fang Yi touched the tip of her nose, somewhat curious. “What kind of case was it?”

Before Lin Shuxing could answer, Fang Yi’s phone screen lit up first.

He Shuanghua: Don’t sign it.

He Shuanghua: Don’t agree.

Two consecutive “don’ts.” Fang Yi’s fingers paused briefly. She had just opened the keyboard when the other end called.

Lin Shuxing propped herself up on the bed with one hand, lifting her eyelids to stare at Fang Yi with a cold smile. “You two seem really close.”

“Hello? Are you still at the Lin residence?” The woman’s cool voice came through the receiver. “I need to talk to you.”

Fang Yi instinctively glanced at Lin Shuxing. “Yes.”

“I’m coming to pick you up. Send me the address. Tell the Lins you need time to consider and that you’re fully authorizing me as your legal representative.”

“Okay.”

The bedroom was so quiet that even the sound of dripping water could ripple through the silence. The woman’s voice was unusually clear in the hollow stillness.

Fang Yi stood up. “Sorry—”

Lin Shuxing closed her eyes, sinking heavily into the soft backrest of the pillow. A cold voice slipped from her lips: “No need to consider the agreement.”

Her brows furrowed slightly, her voice lowering gradually. “I have a cleanliness obsession—I can’t stand emotional entanglements. Didn’t I just say that?”

Fang Yi’s hand, holding her bag, froze. She was bewildered by the girl’s sudden anger. “We’re not in that kind of relationship. She has a partner. She’s just my lawyer.”

She paused, her gaze involuntarily flickering to Lin Shuxing’s slightly reddened earlobe, her tone softening. “I’m not rejecting the marriage alliance either. It’s just that agreements like this need careful consideration. It’s not about you, I—”

Before Fang Yi could finish, Lin Shuxing buried her face in the pillow, the woman’s voice muffling into an indistinct hum.

Her pale hand rose, waving impatiently twice like a violin conductor directing a piece titled “Get Out.”

She, the illustrious Lin Shuxing, had chosen her, offered generous terms, even unprecedentedly allowed her into her private space.

And yet, she still needed to “consider” it?!

For eighteen years, she had always been the one admired and fawned over—but now, she’d hit a wall with this infuriating Fang Yi.

The more she thought about it, the heavier the frustration in her chest grew. The girl pursed her lips, the emotions pooling in her amber eyes deepening.

Time ticked by, the room so silent you could hear the air flowing steadily.

After waiting for what felt like an eternity without any sign of the woman backing down, she vaguely assumed she had already left. The pent-up emotions could no longer be suppressed. She abruptly sat up like a carp leaping from water and snapped, “Fang Yi, who do you think you are?!”

Fang Yi’s outstretched plush toy still hung mid-air. Their eyes met, and the atmosphere plunged into an eerie silence.

Lin Shuxing’s gaze fell on the familiar little plush bear, the fire in her eyes dimming slightly.

It was the one she had given her.

The girl pressed her lips together, pretending not to care as she glanced at Fang Yi, her tone deliberately cool. “When did you get it back?”

“While you were changing earlier.”

Lin Shuxing blinked, her voice light, as if testing the waters with tentative steps: “Are you giving it back to me?”

“No, I don’t think you heard me earlier. I wanted to poke you. But… I haven’t washed my hands or disinfected them, so I was trying to get it to call you.”

“This one was just disinfected and wiped clean by them earlier.”

After explaining, Fang Yi quickly withdrew her hand, hanging the little bear back on her bag as cautiously as if protecting some rare treasure.

“The agreement is very important. I’ve been burned before, so I have to be careful. I hope you understand.”

“I’ll have a lawyer draft a new contract based on our needs. I can’t promise overly detailed terms because I might forget, but I’ll try my best to accommodate.”

“Also, you don’t have to worry about me causing any scandals that would embarrass you. Until my goals are achieved, I have no plans for any romantic entanglements.”

“I don’t like people.”

Fang Yi lowered her head, rubbing her nose to avoid Lin Shuxing’s penetrating gaze, then handed over her phone. “Let’s exchange contact info. You can reach out if anything comes up.”

Lin Shuxing took the phone, her fingertips brushing against the rough case. A glance at the screen revealed several visible scratches and a flood of unread notifications—enough to drive any perfectionist mad.

Lin Shuxing’s gaze lingered, her lips pressing together almost imperceptibly.

When Fang Yi took the phone back, she noticed Lin Shuxing had already added a contact name: AAA Fiancée.

The chat was empty except for a sticker Lin Shuxing sent first, adopting a mature tone: Hope our cooperation goes smoothly.

“Don’t misunderstand. It’s just a reminder of our arranged marriage relationship.”

Arranged marriage—it sounded so businesslike.

“Got it, fiancée,” Fang Yi replied, casually pinning the chat to the top of her cluttered messages.

The unread notifications, like a red carpet, made the cat-profile-picture leap to the top, looking down imperiously on the rest.

Lin Shuxing caught Fang Yi’s actions out of the corner of her eye, the corners of her lips curling deeper as she leaned back into the pillow, sinking softly like a cat, visibly pleased.

From her expression, Fang Yi sensed a kind of smug satisfaction, not unlike the black-faced coal-digging cat in her profile picture.

A black-faced young lady—bad-tempered, but fluffy.

The room remained dim, the heavy curtains blocking out the sunlight, with only a warm yellow glow from a bedside floor lamp. Rows of medicine bottles stood neatly on the table, steam rising from a thermos cup.

When the girl lowered her eyes quietly, she resembled a fragile blue-and-white porcelain doll, so docile that it was hard to associate her with the word “villainess.”

Fang Yi’s gaze swept over the foreign-labeled medicines, abruptly recalling Lin Lan’s words.

What if that man had staged the photo incident, leaving no evidence behind?

What if this weren’t the Lin family, with no surveillance cameras covering every angle? What if Lin Shuxing had nothing within reach to use as a weapon? What if that man had lashed out violently…?

Hitting him once was far too lenient. She wondered how the Lin family would handle it.

After some thought, Fang Yi tapped open her advisor’s lotus-profile-picture.

Physical retaliation was indeed risky. The academic approach called for an academic solution.

The system reluctantly tore its gaze away from Lin Shuxing’s face, sighing dramatically before dimming the lights further and peeking out: “Ah, it’s such a shame to think she won’t live long.”

Fang Yi’s fingers paused mid-typing: If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.

He Shuanghua arrived quickly, her understated lilac coupe gliding into the garden. The butler had specifically instructed that this was the car picking up the young lady’s fiancée, so it was allowed into the inner ring.

Second-floor floor-to-ceiling window.

After Fang Yi left, a sliver of light pierced through the dark blue curtains. A barefoot girl stood silently by the window, her inscrutable gaze fixed on their retreating figures as they vanished amidst the flowers, dissolving into the distant emerald green.

A murmur escaped her lips, indistinct save for the last two syllables, which were enunciated with deliberate weight—like soft candy being slowly crushed between teeth, exuding a covert, cloying sweetness tinged with bl00d.

“…Mine.”