I Deduce the Female Lead Likes Me [Transmigration into a book] - Chapter 12: Blowing Up
—So why did I invite Song Muxue to stay with me?
Even as she fell asleep that night, Kou Shuang couldn’t quite figure this out.
Fortunately, the Kou residence had many rooms, and the one Song Muxue previously stayed in had been kept, so there was no awkwardness of sleeping in the same bed.
Kou Deqin was quite happy to learn that Kou Shuang had brought Song Muxue back to sleep.
Song Muxue hadn’t graduated yet, but it was clear that she was doing well in her studies. When explaining the contractual traps to Kou Shuang, her voice was neither humble nor arrogant, calm and methodical, showing complete confidence, making people involuntarily convinced.
This demeanor was truly suitable for a lawyer. Kou Shuang’s mind wandered, and she finally finished listening to all the clauses.
Song Muxue then extended the discussion to a few more common contractual traps. After explaining, she tapped the table with her pen, tilted her head, and asked her: “Did you understand?”
Kou Shuang quickly nodded and said she understood.
Song Muxue’s voice was so pleasant, so pleasant it was almost hypnotic. In truth, Kou Shuang hadn’t absorbed anything.
Song Muxue sighed, stood up, and said: “Things have been quite busy lately, and you won’t remember all this if I tell you now. We can go over it slowly later. It’s getting late, so I’ll go back to my room to rest.”
As she reached the door, Song Muxue looked back at her and said: “Before you start any official work in the future, remember to show me the contract—if you trust me, that is.”
Of course I trust you!
Kou Shuang nodded like a chicken pecking rice, then saw Song Muxue smile.
That smile was like the gentle warmth of spring, melting snow into streams, clear and pure. Kou Shuang couldn’t help but be momentarily stunned.
By the time she reacted, Song Muxue had disappeared, thoughtfully closing the door behind her.
Sleepless night.
She was woken up by the sunlight the next morning. Her curtains were thin, making it impossible to lie in bed late. Just as she opened her eyes, there was a knock at the door.
Knock, knock.
Song Muxue’s voice: “Kou Shuang, are you awake?”
“Ah… mm-hmm, awake.”
“I’m going for my morning run. Uncle Kou asked me to call you to come along. Are you coming?”
Kou Shuang: “…”
Not staying up late was one thing, but she didn’t want to live this healthily, thank you very much.
She was silent for a moment, and Song Muxue understood; her footsteps gradually faded away.
Kou Shuang took a while to get ready before leaving her room, only to be met with Kou Deqin’s “disappointed but hoping for better” look. “Look at Xiaoxue, she’s already out exercising so early. Why are you so lazy and gluttonous?”
Kou Shuang pretended not to hear and asked Kou Deqin: “What did Song Muxue wear for her run? Wasn’t she wearing a skirt yesterday?”
Kou Deqin paused and said: “Your high school tracksuit. Xiaoxue doesn’t mind it, are you being picky now?”
“No.”
It wasn’t that pink tracksuit… For some reason, Kou Shuang felt a little disappointed.
Kou Shuang leisurely ate breakfast, and half an hour later, Song Muxue returned, but her face wasn’t looking good.
“Zheng Fenglin told me that he received a report this morning, and you might be summoned soon,” Song Muxue said, frowning.
Before her words even finished, Kou Shuang’s phone rang. It was a landline number ending in 110.
“Hello, this is the XX District Public Security Bureau. May I speak to Kou Shuang?” A professional tone.
Kou Deqin heard a few words and immediately rushed over, looking anxious, asking: “What’s wrong?”
••••
“Name… age… occupation… school… do you know why you’ve been called in today?”
The young police officer looked at Kou Shuang as he spoke.
“Is it about the gallery?” Kou Shuang asked.
The officer put the pen cap back on, looked at Kou Shuang with a half-smile, and said: “You know about it?”
Kou Shuang shook her head and said: “I took a leave of absence for a few days. When I went to the gallery yesterday, I found it was being sold. Isn’t that a sign of trouble? Like the owner ran off with his sister-in-law? But my boss doesn’t seem to have a sister-in-law, so maybe he ran off with a male employee instead.”
The young police officer smiled and said: “You’re funny.”
After taking her statement, the officer let her go.
It was a routine interrogation; the police wouldn’t actually suspect her, a seemingly innocent college student.
As soon as she stepped out of the interrogation room, she saw Song Muxue, Zheng Fenglin, and Kou Deqin. Kou Shuang felt a little exhausted by the huge fuss over being summoned once.
Zheng Fenglin, interning there, was the first to receive the report and was the one who tipped off Song Muxue. Song Muxue, as a “friend” with some knowledge of the matter, was naturally present. As for Kou Deqin, he was worried his daughter had done something wrong and specifically pushed aside a business meeting to come. Such is the devotion of parents.
The one who reported the crime was the man with sunglasses. As soon as he saw Kou Shuang come out, he stood up and, with a thuggish air, said: “It’s her, it’s her! She’s the one who tricked me!”
He walked towards Kou Shuang, saying: “Was that money really donated to Project Hope? If it was, I don’t want the money, but I want the real painting back!”
He looked too fierce, and his hurried steps made it seem like he was going to hit someone. Zheng Fenglin subtly stepped in front of Kou Shuang, and another police officer quickly stopped him, saying: “What’s going on, what’s going on? Are you trying to hit someone in the police station? We’ll investigate the suspect; we can’t just go by the complainant’s word!”
The man with sunglasses was still wearing his sunglasses today. After being reprimanded by the police, he pointed at Kou Shuang, looking inexplicably wronged. “You guys are protecting each other! I haven’t done anything yet, and someone’s already protecting this young lady! Are you judging me because I’m ugly or something? Do men have no human rights?!”
The man with sunglasses plopped down on the bench, wiping his face, and said: “It’s not easy to earn a few hundred thousand. Donating it to Project Hope is my contribution to the country; I don’t mind donating it for free, but you can’t trick me and give me a fake painting! Are you bullying me because I’m uncultured? And National University, if I hadn’t seen you were from the National University Art Department, would I have believed you?”
The man with sunglasses sounded as if he was about to cry, and for a moment, the atmosphere in the police station was a bit awkward.
It was Kou Shuang who voluntarily walked up to him and said: “I’m sorry.”
The man with sunglasses looked up in surprise.
“I never expected it to turn out like this. I wasn’t careful enough with my internship search, I apologize. If this painting can be recovered, it should certainly be returned to you. But if it can’t be recovered, I can’t return a real painting, but I’m willing to bear all your financial losses,” Kou Shuang said.
The man with sunglasses was stunned.
A young police officer next to them smiled and said: “What, don’t you believe in the power of our public servants?”
••••
Because the single loss of property reached 420,000, the case was quickly filed. The police summoned many relevant individuals, including many art students from famous universities, and even a few of Kou Shuang’s younger classmates. It seemed Old Chun and Lux had this intention all along; otherwise, they wouldn’t have specifically written the school and major on their employee badges.
Those who were summoned were bewildered, only knowing that the gallery where they interned had problems. Later, rumors spread.
Some said it was a den for forging fake paintings, providing a one-stop service from production to sale.
Others said that the ones who painted the replicas were people from National University because only their school could achieve that level of skill.
The latter statement had a certain academic arrogance, which might earn a “sneer” from students of other schools, but it wasn’t without reason.
Old Chun and his associates’ blind trust in academic qualifications, besides their intention to deceive, perhaps meant they themselves genuinely believed in people from National University.
Rumors ran rampant, spreading across almost all of National University’s QQ groups within a day or two. Some scornfully declared, “I wouldn’t do such a dirty thing just for money,” while others secretly calculated the total income from forged paintings, finding it considerable, and feeling quite tempted.
The academy even issued a special announcement, stating that they hoped everyone would trust the police, trust the school, and await the progression of events.
Almost at this very moment, a post appeared on the anonymous school BBS.
[Why would a rich young lady forge paintings? Has your family’s fortune not been enough for your extravagance?]
[Hookups! The true face of the Art Department goddess is like this!]
The post titles were extremely offensive, as if they were taken from a gossip magazine or UC News. The post didn’t explicitly name anyone, but Kou Shuang, upon seeing the vague descriptions, knew it was referring to her.
Even Song Muxue specifically called her, first saying: “Do you know that when the police arrived, those fake paintings were already gone? I suspect we alerted them when we turned on the surveillance that day.” Then she added: “You… don’t look at the BBS lately.”
“It’s fine, I took pictures, and I even specially turned on Live Photo to record the time and location,” Kou Shuang replied indifferently while Browse the web: “Why shouldn’t I browse the BBS?”
“Just don’t browse it, that’s all. And don’t mention the police questioning you to anyone,” Song Muxue’s voice was calm. Kou Shuang vaguely heard the sound of mouse clicks.
She could hear it even through the phone… What kind of mouse was Song Muxue using, making such a fuss?! Kou Shuang felt a bit sentimental, thinking that Song Muxue’s mouse would be as quiet as a chicken, just like her.
Upon refreshing the webpage again, Kou Shuang was astonished to find that the two posts had been blocked. They weren’t deleted, but since replies were disabled, they quickly sank.
Kou Shuang paused for two seconds, then quickly had a realization: “Are you deleting posts? Are you a privileged class?”
So maybe… the mouse sound was because Song Muxue was so righteously indignant when she blocked the posts…?
This guess was a bit nonsensical. Kou Shuang couldn’t help but shake her head, thinking: Why would Song Muxue need to stick up for me? I’m not even that angry.
Yes, Kou Shuang wasn’t angry about this so-called public opinion war. Logically, she should have been furious, but in Kou Shuang’s subconscious, she always felt that this wasn’t her own life.
It was just a novel. She would always find a way to return to reality, and her current role-playing was merely a temporary measure. As for how “Kou Shuang’s” life would turn out, or what would happen if “Kou Shuang” really returned… these were not within her considerations.
So what was there to be angry about? Even when Kou Shuang read the novel, and occasionally felt a kinship due to the shared name, she never genuinely felt indignation for “Kou Shuang.”
Thinking this, “Kou Shuang” was indeed quite pitiful… Because she was a supporting character, her sole purpose of existence was to highlight the flawless emotions between the male and female leads. She had no life.
Kou Shuang thought: I can’t be like this. Even if Song Muxue is a darling of heaven, I must live as my own protagonist.
As Kou Shuang’s mind wandered, Song Muxue’s slightly puzzled voice came through again: “You’re not angry?”
Yeah, I’m not angry. Kou Shuang didn’t speak.
“I’m the moderator of the school BBS, so I can’t casually delete posts, but I do have the right to block them. Even if these posts weren’t about you, spreading rumors and slandering others, I would still block them,” Song Muxue said, seemingly explaining something.
Kou Shuang smiled and said nothing.
Look at Song Muxue: beautiful, kind, a top student, also an amateur host and forum moderator. Is there anything she can’t do?
Kou Shuang secretly calculated Song Muxue’s time, then compared it to her own. She always felt that Song Muxue must have a Time-Turner like Hermione. Could this also be one of the protagonist’s “golden fingers”?
“Then… thank you?” Kou Shuang said: “Actually, it’s fine. They’re all just guessing. As long as I know it’s not me, that’s all that matters.”
As Kou Shuang spoke, she refreshed the forum again and found a new post on the homepage.
Only two minutes had passed since Kou Shuang last refreshed the forum, but this post already had over forty replies, making it quite popular.
[Moderator Shuangxue! Why block posts?! Who are you to Sun Jiawen?!]
Song Muxue’s voice paused for a while, then she said: “…The entire forum now knows those two posts aren’t about you.”