Villain Strategy Rules [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 13

The morning countryside road was shrouded in thick fog as Wen Zhixu drove along the route Chaoyao had provided, the two of them moving steadily forward.

Wen Zhixu glanced at the winding path and asked, “How do you usually get here?”

The initial stretch of the road led toward the city, but the further they went, the more remote it became. There were no bus stops in sight, and very few vehicles passed by—mostly just private cars.

Chaoyao replied, “Sometimes I take the bus to the nearest stop and walk the rest of the way. Other times, I hitch a ride. I don’t come often—maybe once or twice a year.”

Her tone was calm, as if she were speaking of an ordinary person, but her eyes, fixed on the window, seemed to be lost in memories of that individual.

A little further on, the car could no longer proceed, so Wen Zhixu and Chaoyao parked at the roadside and continued on foot along a narrow path.

The cold was biting. The moment Wen Zhixu stepped out of the car, the warmth from the heater dissipated rapidly, and soon she felt icy all over.

The temperature had plummeted suddenly late last night, dropping more than ten degrees compared to previous days. Now, in the early morning with the fog still lingering, it was the coldest part of the day. Wen Zhixu kept blowing into her cupped hands, her scarf pulled up so high it nearly covered her eyes.

“Hey…” Wen Zhixu suddenly stepped in front of Chaoyao, tilting her head slightly to look up at her. “Are you cold? Do you… want some warmth?” No sooner had she spoken than Chaoyao took Wen Zhixu’s hands in hers.

Chaoyao was bundled up in thick clothing, her hands covered in gloves. Though they couldn’t directly transfer warmth, it was still better than Wen Zhixu’s futile attempts to warm her own hands.

“You could’ve asked sooner. I’m not cold—I can warm you anytime.”

Chaoyao’s voice was shy, sweet like honey, completely different from the tone she’d used when they first met. Wen Zhixu blinked in surprise before giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “You’re adorable.”

To Wen Zhixu, Chaoyao was like a kitten—when they first met, her fur had bristled defensively, her voice laced with warning. But over time, she had smoothed her fur and begun nuzzling gently into Wen Zhixu’s palm.

When they reached their destination, Wen Zhixu followed Chaoyao to a gravestone tucked in a corner. The photo showed a little girl, no more than a few years old, with the same surname as Chaoyao—Chao Sui. She had two braids, tiny fangs peeking through her sweet smile.

Chaoyao placed the flowers she had brought before the grave. “Sorry it took me so long to visit.”

Kneeling, she adjusted the offerings. The strong winds of the past few days had scattered most of the previous flowers, leaving only one, which had been pinned beneath an apple, preserving its original shape.

Wen Zhixu gently touched Chaoyao’s cheek. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure the director repairs the railing. No more children will fall.”

Tears glistened faintly in Chaoyao’s eyes before she revealed a secret. “It wasn’t the railing’s fault. She jumped on her own—chose a winter night and froze to death.”

What? Chao Sui had jumped on her own? But why would such a young child do that? And why choose winter? A fall from the second floor wouldn’t have been fatal—it was the darkness and the cold that had slowly claimed her.

“Do you… know why she jumped?” Wen Zhixu asked carefully.

Chaoyao spoke slowly, “Once, she was bullied and told the teacher, but the teacher ignored her. So she went to the headmaster, who accused her of hitting others first. She cried and tried to explain, but the headmaster got annoyed and locked her in a dark room.”

“At that time, I had already left this place, so I didn’t know about it. Maybe after she got out, she couldn’t take it anymore and just… jumped.”

The surroundings were quiet, with no one else around. Chaoyao spoke softly, while Wen Zhixu listened in silence. As she finished speaking, a sudden breeze swept by, rustling the flowers in front of the tombstone. A single petal drifted down and landed on Chaoyao’s hand.

Wen Zhixu asked, “Are both orphanage headmasters like this?”

Chaoyao nodded. “Every single one in this city. They’re all about money, never truly caring for the children. But you… you three… you’re different. You’re the best teachers I’ve ever met. Especially… you.”

Wen Zhixu couldn’t hide the smile on her face at the unexpected praise. Being complimented was always nice—happiness +10. But being praised by a beauty? Happiness +100!

“I’ll help you,” Wen Zhixu said. Though she wasn’t particularly capable herself, the original owner of this body was. Just her name alone could get her into the school’s surveillance room without question. She couldn’t even imagine how powerful her parents must be.

Chaoyao smiled faintly. “It’s fine. You probably aren’t allowed to appear in public either. I don’t want to trouble you.”

Although everyone at the school knew Song Chaoyao had a high status, she never dared to reveal her family background. The most she had ever said was, “If I get my dad involved, you’ll regret it.”

Wen Zhixu reassured her, “It’s really no trouble.”

The original owner seemed to have long cut ties with her parents, but as the eldest daughter, no matter how angry they were, she would eventually have to return home.

Chaoyao stood up. “Let’s go back. There’s still homework to do.”

Wen Zhixu followed her. Along the way, they passed others coming to pay their respects—some with heavy hearts, unwilling to accept their loved ones’ departure, others quickening their steps, eager to see those they missed.

Back in the city, with just a month left until the New Year, preparations were already in full swing. Red lanterns, festive decorations, and couplets filled the streets.

Chaoyao suddenly asked, “Are you going home for the New Year?”

“Home…” Wen Zhixu sighed at how quickly time had passed. It was almost New Year’s. In the past, Song Nuan would only return for dinner on New Year’s Eve before leaving again.

“I’ll just go back for dinner on New Year’s Eve. The rest of the time, I’ll stay with you.”

“Stay with me…” Chaoyao murmured softly. The warmth inside the car made her feel flushed. She had no choice but to roll down the window, letting the cold air soothe her heated skin.

–

As soon as Wen Zhixu returned, she headed straight to the office and pulled Yang Yue aside. “Do you know where the orphanage’s surveillance room is?”

“You’re not thinking of stealing the surveillance footage, are you?” Yang Yue asked, shocked.

Wen Zhixu clicked her tongue. “Stealing? I just want to take a look.”

“Teacher Song,” Yang Yue said seriously, “I know your family background isn’t bad, but the headmaster’s influence is beyond what you can imagine. She has financial ties with many powerful people. Even if you want to help, you can’t go against her.”

Wen Zhixu asked the system, “Look up the identity of Chief Director Zhang Wenli for me.”

Before long, an electronic screen appeared before Wen Zhixu:

Name: Zhang Wenli
Gender: Female
Age: 45
Family Background: Father—Director of City A’s Public Security Bureau; Mother—Principal of Nan Normal University; Grandfather—Retired President of Spring City Bank…

The information ended there. It was unclear whether the rest didn’t exist or simply couldn’t be retrieved.

Host, this is all the information I can gather for now. I can’t access much beyond what’s publicly available.

Wen Zhixu didn’t need the system to explain further—just these three relatives were telling enough.

So, between Song Nuan’s parents and these three, who held more influence?

At worst, it would be a fight to the death.

Wen Zhixu said, “It’s fine. I know my limits.”

Yang Yue sighed but still took Wen Zhixu to the surveillance room. Since no one was monitoring, everything went smoothly, and the data was quickly exported.

What surprised Wen Zhixu, however, was that every time someone entered the detention room, they went in willingly. It was only after at least half an hour that someone would come to lock the door. But during that half-hour, no one dared to leave.

Now, the most pressing matter was meeting the Chief Director. The only opportunity would be the New Year’s Eve lunch on the 30th.

Just as they finished exporting the footage, Yang Yue suddenly said, “By the way, the New Year is coming up. We’re doing a group shopping trip—do you want to join? We’ll need a few extra hands.”

“Of course,” Wen Zhixu nodded. “Chaoyao and I can handle the fruit shopping. After lunch at the main branch, we’ll come back. I’ll buy extra since we’ll be staying up late with the kids for New Year’s Eve.”

Yang Yue smiled. “Sounds good. But about the surveillance—I still want to remind you to be careful. I know you won’t listen if I say too much, so I’ll just pretend I don’t know anything. I’ve already deleted the footage.”

Wen Zhixu tightened her grip on the USB drive. “Got it.”

Yang Yue’s family wasn’t wealthy, and Wen Zhixu couldn’t drag her into trouble. Once she completed her mission, she could leave—but what about the others? What if they were affected?

After deleting the footage, they returned. The next class was Wen Zhixu’s—she taught elementary math. But today, an unexpected guest appeared: Chaoyao.

Chaoyao sat at the back, her desk covered with high school exam prep materials. The children in front, a head shorter than her, stared curiously at the older girl.

Wen Zhixu smiled. “Looks like we have a new student today.”

Chaoyao replied, “I’m here to review and strengthen my math foundation.”

Wen Zhixu didn’t send her away. She was more than happy to spend time with Chaoyao, helping her integrate rather than isolate herself. She swore to change Chaoyao’s fate—she only wished she were a better writer, so she could craft a grand, beautiful story for her.

After class, Wen Zhixu approached Chaoyao. “A week before New Year’s, I’ll be going shopping for fruit. You’ll be on winter break soon—want to come with me?”

“Sure,” Chaoyao agreed without hesitation. “I’ll go.”

Wen Zhixu’s gaze dropped and noticed that Chaoyao hadn’t been studying during class—instead, she’d been reading a novel. And not just any novel—one Wen Zhixu recognized. A yuri romance.

Chaoyao noticed Wen Zhixu’s gaze and immediately flustered, trying to find something to cover the book but only growing more frantic in her search. Finally, she awkwardly said, “Just reading a novel to relax a little.”

Wen Zhixu smiled. “It’s fine. I often read novels to unwind too.”

Seeing that the other wasn’t pressing further, Chaoyao glanced at the novel’s cover, lowered her head in thought for a moment, then looked up and asked, “What do you think about love between two women?”

Wen Zhixu was taken aback. What could she think? She was attracted to women herself—though Chaoyao didn’t seem to know that. She sat down, leaned in, and met her eyes. “I fully support it.”