I Redeemed Him, But Who Will Redeem Me? - Chapter 11

Lin Xicai did have the thought of doing something—just for a second. Only a second. Then, she immediately suppressed that foolish impulse of attacking something far beyond her ability.

The current situation was clear: Xie Shi hadn’t seen her, but that person had clearly seen her.

In this situation, if she didn’t intervene, the male lead wouldn’t bear a grudge against her. But if she really did something, that person would definitely be able to guess it was her afterward.

There was no need for her to risk herself over someone who had nothing to do with her.

After all, she hadn’t come to this world for him.

Most importantly, deep down, Lin Xicai felt that these two people were essentially no different.

They were just two characters in this world, two paper-thin figures set up by the story. Why should she get involved in a fight between two paper-thin characters?

It was like watching a play or a movie, with villains and heroes—it was perfectly normal. Just some dramatic arrangement. She hadn’t actually lost anything.

To her, this world was nothing more than an elaborate illusion. She had to stay alert at all times, never letting herself get too immersed or emotionally involved…

Then, Lin Xicai turned and left the scene of the conflict as if nothing had happened.

She dared not make “running for her life” too obvious, afraid of alerting anyone. Only after leaving the alley by a fair distance did she allow herself to run as if her life depended on it.

She sprinted along, instinctively running in the opposite direction. She didn’t know how long she ran, but the sounds of car horns grew clearer, the noisy bustle more intense, and the fleeting fireworks of unease gradually settled, giving her a sense of safety.

Xie Shi, watching this person move farther away, showed no expression on his face.

Disappointment makes people furious because it means they once had unrealistic expectations of someone.

But Xie Shi didn’t feel the slightest disappointment. He was just… unusually angry—for once, not because she had turned away, but because she had looked down on him, completely denying his existence.

Paper-thin characters.

Hmph.

In his heart, all of them—good or bad—were merely NPCs unworthy of a soul.

If even a soul was undeserving, then their mutual slaughter meant nothing. Who would care about the fights of a bunch of ants?

Her sense of superiority was so absolute, so entitled, that a twisted, overwhelming impulse almost forced him to want to drag her down, to make her like him.

…

Her phone had completely run out of battery. After all this, it was already quite late.

Soaked to the bone, with only a few coins left in her wallet, Lin Xicai decided to take the bus home. Afraid her mother would worry, she went into a phone booth on the street to call first.

She counted her coins—just enough for a call and a bus fare—and couldn’t help but feel a pang of regret thinking about the hundred yuan she’d spent earlier. Otherwise, she could have just taken a taxi.

That hundred-yuan morning had barely lasted nine minutes. When she tried to get a refund, people either ignored her or pretended to be pitiful, refusing to budge. Lin Xicai shook her head—this world’s social atmosphere was far worse than hers.

The facilities here were refined and classic. The phone booth, small and enclosed, immediately muffled the rain outside.

She adjusted her emotions slightly and dialed home.

As expected, her mother was worried. She answered after one ring. Lin Xicai explained she had been doing some homework outside and would return late. Her mother, relieved, responded quickly, then launched into a long string of instructions.

After hanging up, Lin Xicai stood there for a moment, unusually stunned.

Suddenly, she heard a noise behind her. Turning, she saw someone leaning against the doorframe, silently smiling at her.

He was clearly smiling, but his eyes were cold, hiding a trace of mischievous malice. “We meet again,” he said.

His gaze fell on the phone in her hand, the smile widening. He looked at her as if they were old friends, with a familiar, slightly reproachful tone. “Tsk, you ran so fast. I just wanted to say hello.”

Lin Xicai’s body tensed, instinctively going into a state of alert.

She paused for a moment, then suddenly lifted her head, realizing he had misunderstood something.

“I was just calling my family…”

At that moment, a siren blared mischievously in the air, loud and piercing.

Soon, a commotion erupted in the distance—shouting, scolding, and people scattering chaotically.

Lin Xicai: “….”

If he wanted to mess with her, he could have just said so.

She took a deep breath, forcing herself to stay calm, and faced his cold, lightless eyes. “It has nothing to do with me. I didn’t call the police.”

His gaze lingered on her face for a long moment, and he leaned slightly forward, meaning unclear: “Is that so? What a coincidence.”

The sudden closeness in the cramped space made Lin Xicai uncomfortable. She frowned slightly and walked past him.

She left with her back to him, never looking back, though she could feel his gaze following her.

Only when she reached a bus stop, surrounded by bustling crowds, did she feel even slightly safe.

“System?”

“What are you doing? Why aren’t you responding?”

“System, come out! Is this how negligent you are? Can I complain?”

A bus passed by, carrying away many people like clouds. Lin Xicai slumped on the bus stop bench, waiting for her ride. Elbows on her knees, head buried in her arms, she felt like a clown mocked by life, silently furious in her heart.

She stared at the puddles on the ground, dazed. Suddenly, a bicycle tire entered her field of vision.

Looking up, it was a familiar red mountain bike and a bloodied face, seen from a low angle.

His features were already bold and striking; in the rainy night, the bl00d and rain on his face added a fierce, untamed edge.

He didn’t speak, only looked at her with a calm, inscrutable gaze.

As he watched her, she awkwardly stared back. No one spoke first.

Facing him again, Lin Xicai’s emotions were complicated, though fleeting confusion quickly turned into awkwardness.

They weren’t the kind of people who could stare at each other for ten seconds without asking why.

She waited for him to speak, but he just looked at her, seemingly waiting for her to say something.

She felt a strange sense of judgment from this silence, as if she were standing on the edge of a cliff, one thought away from heaven, another from hell.

He seemed to have all the patience in the world; as long as she didn’t speak, the stalemate could continue.

Lin Xicai frowned in her heart, eventually giving in.

She pressed her lips together, trying to sound sincere: “What happened to your face? Do you need help?”

Xie Shi stared at her, surprised, yet as if not surprised. His eyes churned with emotion, quickly returning to calm.

“You saw it all, didn’t you?” He seemed to smile faintly, though the curve of his lips was more mocking than friendly. “My deskmate.”

Lin Xicai froze.

So he saw her too.

So now, the situation was: the male lead thought she didn’t save him, and the psychopath thought she reported to the police?

So… her attempts to offend neither side ended up offending both?

Damn it. Lin Xicai cursed silently in her heart. No way out left at all.

Habitually weighing pros and cons, even in chaos, she made a decision almost instantaneously.

“Unexpected,” Lin Xicai said, “the police arrived pretty fast.”

Xie Shi’s temple twitched slightly, eyes narrowing, expression unreadable. “You called the police?”

Following the principle of not angering a second madman after already offending one, Lin Xicai neither confirmed nor denied, saying only: “Good that you’re fine.”

Xie Shi smiled, a dark and seductive smile.

He then leaned slightly forward, his imposing presence pressing against her. She heard him say, “Well, thank you.”

The wind and rain whipped past, and the soft, almost terrifying tone of “thank you” made her scalp tingle.

Shaken by the day’s events, Lin Xicai went home and couldn’t sleep.

At the same time, she felt a rare relief—the existence of that bug had saved her.

In just one day, she had accidentally caused several disasters—any one of which could have ruined her. Fortunately, she still had a chance. Once daylight returned her to the starting point, she would avoid yesterday’s pitfalls.

She would stay far away from Xie Shi, never follow him, and never watch the alley drama again.

Not just him, but also that two-faced, seemingly kind person—she would avoid him completely from the start.

And Fu Yanxiu—after all, she would see him often enough, she couldn’t insult him so harshly as she had today…

Late at night, Lin Xicai coaxed herself to sleep, convincing herself everything that happened today was just a dream.

She slept restlessly all night. The next morning, groggy and with a headache, she washed up, slung her backpack over her shoulder, and left, still dazed.

Passing by a small garden, her thoughts froze for a few seconds as she stared at the pruned rosebeds.

The roses had been trimmed, and the two men who should have been waiting to give her flowers were gone.

Lin Xicai immediately felt a sense of foreboding.

Sleepiness vanished.

She took out her phone and looked at the screen.

The numbers jumped out—October 17.

Her breath caught, and her temples ached.

She rubbed her temples, the date on the screen unchanged.

A sense of fear, accompanied by a chill, crept through her fingers. Lin Xicai’s face turned pale.

She had hoped to return things to normal, but she hadn’t expected them to return to normal so abruptly.

Who? Who was so determined to toy with her and play with her like this?

—After she had messed everything up, this idiot day started moving forward on its own.