After Transmigrating into a Novel, I Turned on Easy Mode - Chapter 13

Zhao Qingshu felt his younger sister had been acting strange these days. She’d never liked going out before, yet now she went out every day. Ask her where, and she’d only smile and say she was going for a walk.

But who goes out at the crack of dawn and doesn’t come back until it’s nearly dark? Something was off—very off. Zhao Qingshu tried to tail his sister, but for some reason he kept losing her. Every time he followed, some tangle of troubles would suddenly pop up and block his way.

Today made the seventh time he’d lost her. He’d been keeping up just fine when an old woman with a hurt leg latched onto him and refused to let go, demanding he take her to a physician.

Pestered past endurance—and pitying the old woman—Zhao Qingshu brought her to a clinic. By the time he’d settled her, it was already noon; naturally, there was no finding his sister then.

By rights, with her in a wheelchair, he should’ve been able to ask around and get word, but no—no one had seen her. What, did she vanish into thin air?

Baffled, he suddenly heard Yingying’s voice. “Biaoge! What are you doing here?”
(TN: biaoge = older male cousin on the maternal side.)

His heart gave a little leap. He turned—and sure enough, there she was, waving at him. He couldn’t help the smile tugging at his mouth—until he noticed she wasn’t alone. Zhang Boyu stood beside her, grinning at him.

The upturned corners of his mouth quietly fell.

Zhang Boyu was in blue as always, fanning himself nonstop. Zhao Qingshu couldn’t help the silent comment: “Peacocking. How are you not freezing to death!”

He realized this wasn’t very sage-like, and silently intoned “my fault” twice. A gentleman is neither proud nor rash. Clearly his cultivation was lacking; he ought to study harder.

Seeing Zhao Qingshu actually pleased him a bit. Today his mother had dragged him out to help Eldest Sister pick jewelry. He hadn’t wanted to, but he went—Eldest Sister treated him well, and she was about to be married.

He hadn’t expected to bump into Yingying at Fujinyun while choosing pieces—and then be interrogated about whether he had “another woman,” making a fine spectacle when his mother came out from the inner room.

With his mother’s leave, he and Yingying had gone strolling—and then happened on Zhao Qingshu. Zhang Boyu felt complicated: happy to see a friend, and a little… interrupted.

“Qingshu, what a coincidence—ahaha. Why the rush? You look anxious.”

Qingshu sighed. “Looking for my sister. Have either of you seen her?”

At that, Li Yingying’s face went a bit odd. She remembered the scene she’d made at Fujinyun—it had all been because of Biaojie. But on second thought, her cousin hadn’t actually said anything wrong: Boyu-ge really had been choosing jewelry with a woman… only, the woman was his mother.

Thinking it through, she had to admit she’d been too impulsive. She couldn’t blame Biaojie. In fact, thanks to Biaojie she’d found Boyu-ge—sneaking out today hadn’t been wasted. She ought to be grateful.

Then she remembered Biaojie might have gone to find that detestable person. Her cousin was beautiful and gentle—how could she be sullied by that annoying bully? No—that wouldn’t do! She had to warn Cousin.

“I saw Biaojie today—she seemed to be heading to that awful Wu You! Biaoge, hurry to the General’s residence!”

A jolt went through Zhao Qingshu. He felt himself a fool. The rumor he’d overheard before the banquet might very well be true, and his sister seemed to feel something particular for Wu You. He should have thought of Wu You sooner.

Hearing Li Yingying, Zhang Boyu furrowed his brows and stilled his fan. “Right—Qingshu, you didn’t go to the banquet that day, but I saw Qingzi-meimei there, and she was with Wu You.”

A storm surged in Zhao Qingshu’s chest. That day, he’d been watching over his sister, but somehow he’d fallen asleep; when he woke, she was sitting safely on the bed.

Has it really come to this? He felt a deep foreboding. He broke into a run for the General’s residence, all thought of decorum gone.

Li Yingying wanted to rush along to “save” Biaojie, but Zhang Boyu caught her hand. She was just about to flare up when he suddenly lifted her.

He gathered his qinggong and leapt away with her. “This way’s faster.”

Leaving aside their urgent scramble, the two at the General’s residence were having a merry time. It was lunchtime; after they ate, they were chatting idly.

It had been like this all seven days—plain and peaceful. At first, Wu You had worried Zhao Qingzi had something in mind, but days had passed with no “action.”

And today, she’d even shown a fragile, genuine side in front of her. To be honest, Wu You’s heart ached. All told, the girl was only seventeen…

Then let’s save her—properly. Wu You had rarely liked a character this much. Reading the original, her heart had burned with “not reconciled.” Now she’d been given the chance to change Zhao Qingzi’s fate. She had to give her a good ending.

“I think that black pine of yours is quite pretty.”

With that, Zhao Qingzi pushed her own wheelchair toward the planter.

“It’s… okay,” Wu You answered—and then realized something was wrong. That was the very pot she’d been dumping medicine into. With her sharp eyes, she could still see flecks of decoction on the soil.

Seeing Zhao Qingzi about to reach the planter, Wu You panicked.

She cried out, “A-Zi, wait!”

She bolted that way—and in her haste her foot slipped on something. She pitched forward. Hearing Wu You, Zhao Qingzi turned; before she could react, Wu You barreled into her and knocked her from the chair.

Instinctively, Wu You cradled Zhao Qingzi’s head and rolled, so that Zhao Qingzi ended up lying on top of her. Awkwardness spread. Pressed to Wu You, Zhao Qingzi could hear the too-quick thud of her heartbeat—and her own pounded like a drum.

Red crept over both faces. Staring at the face a breath away, Wu You felt a little dazed—forgetting to get up.

The weight on her was feather-light. She thought, she’s much too thin—she needs to eat more meat. There was a faint, lovely scent clinging to Zhao Qingzi. Wu You couldn’t help a tiny sniff. Like gardenia. Then she realized how creepy that was…

After silently scolding herself, she opened her mouth to salvage her image—when a maid’s voice piped up at the door: “Miss, Young Master Zhao is—ah! I didn’t see anything! Please continue—this maid withdraws!”

Wait! It’s not what you think! And who is “Young Master Zhao” exactly—finish your sentence!

Zhao Qingzi snapped back, too. Hearing the maid say “Young Master Zhao,” she immediately realized—gege was here. Panic fluttered. Wu You was still spaced out; Zhao Qingzi, flustered and shy, hissed:

“Hurry—help me up! My brother’s here!”

That yanked Wu You to her senses. She scrambled up and set Zhao Qingzi in the chair. Her bun and clothes were a bit mussed; Wu You reached to neaten them—

And outside came the maid’s urgent cry: “Young Master Zhao, you can’t go in! Wait! Young Master Zhao, please—”

Then Zhao Qingshu’s angry voice: “Why may I not see? My sister must be here—why hide it? If your conscience is clear, why skulk? Have Wu You come out and face me!”

He was at the door in moments. The little maid couldn’t stop him.

And he saw it: his sister, flushed and disheveled—and Wu You, likewise rumpled. Because Wu You had been reaching to tidy her, one hand still rested on Zhao Qingzi’s shoulder.

No matter how you looked, it looked like… something. When the maid had gone in to announce his arrival, she’d come out with a red face, saying her young lady was “inconvenient to receive guests.”

With a prickle of dread, Zhao Qingshu hurled his classics out of mind and stormed in—and got this.

Wu You felt like she’d been caught in bed with someone. Panic surged. She sprang up, waving both hands wildly. “We didn’t do anything! Don’t get the wrong idea!”

Only a ghost would believe you. My poor sister can’t even walk; you’ve trained all your life—how could she resist you? You dare treat her like this!

A hundred ugly little scenes flashed through his head: his sister coerced by that bully Wu You, finally forced to yield. Rage blotted out reason. “You wretch!”

He grabbed a stool and flung it at Wu You.

She ran, shouting, “Calm down! Calm down! Nothing happened! We’re innocent! If you don’t believe me, ask Qingzi! Qingzi—help!”

Caught red-handed by her own brother, Zhao Qingzi’s usually nimble mind glitched. Wu You’s call jolted her; she looked up to see the two of them circling the round table—the ever-gentle gege wielding a stool like a street thug, and the infamous little tyrant fleeing in chaos. It was… a little funny.

“Qingzi, don’t laugh! Explain to your brother!”

Stifling the smile, she said, “Gege, nothing happened. I fell, and Miss Wu just helped me up.”

At that, Zhao Qingshu paused. He didn’t practice martial arts, of course he couldn’t catch Wu You; now the “attacker” was panting harder than the “victim.” “Little sister—truly?”

Zhao Qingzi smoothed her face into seriousness. “Truly.” She wheeled forward and took out a handkerchief to dab his sweat. Understanding, he shot Wu You a look, set the stool down, and crouched.

Zhao Qingzi gently wiped the beads from his brow.

Once it was cleared up, Zhao Qingshu scowled and took his sister home. Wu You had wanted to say goodbye to Zhao Qingzi, but Zhao Qingshu guarded her like a mother hen with a chick.

Wu You rubbed her nose and gave up.

Watching them go, she returned to her room. The quiet let her thoughts run wild. Remembering today’s farce, she covered her face with both hands, drowning in shame.

But… she smelled so good. I’ll ask her what scent that is next time—so fragrant.