Villain Strategy Rules [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 23

Using Song Nuan’s identity, Wen Zhixu reported the case to the police and had officers stake out near Director Zhang’s residence while she and Chaoyao returned home.

Chaoyao was curious and asked, “Are you sure that’s Director Zhang’s place? I investigated, checked with the property management, and even reviewed the surveillance footage from the past month—I never saw Director Zhang there.”

Was she sure? Not entirely. That’s why she had used someone else’s identity to file the report—just in case the system was wrong, she could leverage some connections to extricate herself, claiming the report had been about lost valuables.

But she still needed to reassure Chaoyao. “I’m sure. This is our only chance. You know how easily child abuse cases can be whitewashed by someone like her.”

Chaoyao nodded. “Right. I don’t plan to expose this publicly yet. The videos and recordings are just to intimidate her.”

The two of them stepped onto the balcony, where a gentle breeze rustled around them. Wen Zhixu idly tended to the potted plants, which had regained their vitality under her careful attention. Though it was winter, the enclosed balcony was warm, and under the sunlight, some flowers had even begun to bloom.

“I never thought they could look this beautiful once they came back to life.”

Chaoyao crouched down and smoothed Wen Zhixu’s wind-tousled hair. What she really wanted to say was that on the day they first went out together, the breeze had lifted the ends of Wen Zhixu’s hair, and what swayed in the wind wasn’t just those strands—it was also the heart she kept hidden deep inside.

“Beautiful. Just like you.”

Wen Zhixu laughed. “You’re so sweet. By the way, has Director Zhang responded to you today?”

Their plan was simple: first, they would contact Director Zhang under the pretense of selling rare jewelry, then show off their most valuable pieces, negotiate the price online, and finally arrange an in-person exchange.

The jewelry was real—Song Nuan’s mother, a woman of status, had gone to great lengths to acquire this set as part of her dowry. It was an exceptionally rare collection, priceless and seldom seen even at auctions.

Director Zhang and her associates had always maintained an image of frugality. The fact that they were willing to splurge on such luxuries only deepened suspicions about how much they had embezzled. Of course, they knew Director Zhang wouldn’t show up in person—but neither would they.

She wouldn’t even get a pebble, let alone a gemstone.

“Xiao Nuan, are you absolutely certain your intel is reliable?” asked a plainclothes policewoman—an old classmate of her father’s, with whom he had a good relationship.

Wen Zhixu replied, “Pretty sure. Chaoyao and I made contact a few days ago. She was very taken with that necklace and agreed to meet for the exchange today.”

The officer patted Chaoyao’s shoulder. “Even though I know your father, I handle everything with fairness and integrity. I won’t let criminals walk free, but I also won’t take sides.”

To outsiders, it was unclear how Wen Zhixu truly felt about her family. After all, she had been brought to every necessary social event since childhood, expected to be polite even to those she disliked. Even with distant relatives, she maintained the facade of a harmonious family.

Wen Zhixu understood what Officer Sun was trying to convey—that everything she did was impartial, with no favoritism involved. She and her father might be acquainted, but she knew nothing about his actions.

She remained silent, simply producing the photos and recorded conversations that Chaoyao had captured. Initially, she hadn’t wanted to expose them, as it involved the children’s privacy. If too many people knew, it might not bode well for their future.

The female officer watched the video, her calm expression gradually twisting into anger. Orphans had always been a priority for the police station, and seeing these children abused and humiliated was like lighting a fire right under their noses.

“Could we get a copy of these videos? Don’t worry, we won’t leak them.”

Wen Zhixu took back her phone. “Officer Sun, if this video can help increase her sentence later, I’ll release it. But for now, I’d prefer not to make it public. We haven’t gotten the children’s consent yet—they don’t even know what they’ve endured might be exposed to the world.”

The officer nodded. “Understood. I respect your decision.”

“Teacher Song.” Chaoyao stepped in from the balcony. “Come here for a second.”

Wen Zhixu exchanged a glance with the officer before following Chaoyao outside. “What is it? Has she left?”

Chaoyao nodded. “Yes. She said she’s heading to the meeting spot now—she wants to see the goods before paying.”

The number they’d used to contact Director Zhang was a burner account, bought anonymously, so even if she tried to trace it, she’d hit a dead end.

Wen Zhixu lowered the blinds halfway, ensuring they couldn’t be seen from outside while still keeping an eye on the street below. “Once she arrives, send her the edited recording—not the original. I don’t want her retaliating against Xiaoxin.”

Chaoyao agreed. “Got it.”

The two of them sat on the balcony, watching the villa intently. For now, it didn’t matter how many people knew—this was their best shot at breaking the deadlock.

Wen Zhixu needed to help Chaoyao lower her corruption value and resolve this mess. Meanwhile, Chaoyao had to help Wen Zhixu secure her freedom—because a daughter’s worth far outweighed any power or influence.

The phone rang. Wen Zhixu and Chaoyao huddled together as Chaoyao declined the call and sent a message instead.

…: Here?

The reply came swiftly.

Director Zhang: I’m here. Where are you?

 

Director Zhang: jpg.

The photo showed the agreed-upon location, but Yang Yue, who was there sipping coffee, reported that the person who’d arrived was a man—masked, wearing sunglasses, with a backpack, loitering under the designated tree.

Director Zhang hadn’t shown herself. She must’ve sent a proxy—someone untraceable, unlike anyone close to her.

Chaoyao glanced up. Wen Zhixu nodded, and she sent the doctored recording.

…: Director Zhang, do you want the original audio?

 

…: Director Zhang, with all your assets, can you afford to buy this information? After all, you casually dropped millions on gems. I heard your family’s supposed to be struggling—how’d you manage that?

Silence stretched on the other end until Yang Yue finally informed them—the man had bolted.

A while later, a message arrived.

Director Zhang: I’ve done nothing to you. Why frame me?

 

…: You know whether it’s a frame or not. Your spouse is up for a promotion, isn’t they? Think this scandal might affect that?

“…I know you have the power to suppress this and come forward with a clarification, but can you really do it in such a short time?”

After a while,

Dean Zhang: What do you want?

The story was deviating from the original plan, but that was fine—it might even work better for them.

Wen Zhixu said, “Tell her we heard that at a recent auction, a long-lost diamond necklace was bought by an anonymous bidder. Ask if it was her.”

After Chaoyao relayed the message, there was another deathly silence on the other end. Wen Zhixu guessed Dean Zhang was probably investigating, trying to trace who was using this account. This was where Chaoyao’s father came into play—the technicians he had sent were also protecting them.

Dean Zhang: What are you trying to do?

Wen Zhixu chuckled lightly. “Seems she couldn’t find anything. Tell her we want to exchange this evidence for that necklace.”

“…Like you, we are collectors. But the bidding went too high that day, and we didn’t have enough liquid assets to compete with that anonymous buyer. Now… we just want that necklace.”

 

Dean Zhang: Fine. Meet at the agreed location in three hours.

Wen Zhixu immediately went to the living room. “Officer Sun… you and your team should hide. I think either Dean Zhang or her partner will be coming soon.”

This house was too well-hidden. If they couldn’t trace it back to the two of them, those two certainly wouldn’t let anyone else know—naturally, they wouldn’t send anyone else to retrieve the item.

Officer Sun quickly arranged for his colleagues to conceal themselves. Two were stationed near Dean Zhang’s residence, and another was disguised as a girl sunbathing near the entrance.

“Later, the two of you must not show yourselves. We’ll directly interrogate them on corruption charges.”

“Please trust us.”

Wen Zhixu looked out the window, the sunlight stinging her eyes. Her heart was a mix of tension and hesitation—it seemed her mission was about to end.

Noticing her silence, Officer Sun called softly, “Xiao Nuan?”

“Huh?” Wen Zhixu snapped out of her thoughts and quickly responded, “Okay, I’ll trust you.”

She checked the time. It would take two hours to get from here to the meeting spot they’d agreed on this morning. Since Dean Zhang said to meet in three hours, it meant she was currently staying somewhere not too far from here.

Wen Zhixu was curious—after a lifetime of paving the way for her lover, who would show up today?

Chaoyao hurried over. “The information leaked. She’s taken a child hostage.”

Wen Zhixu: “What? Wasn’t the surveillance footage disabled by Yang Yue? And weren’t the little boy and Xin’er both under our protection?”

“Not them,” Chaoyao denied. “She knows it’s me. I don’t know how, but the recordings and photos from my phone were leaked. The news is already trending. She’s kidnapped a child from the institute and is demanding I go there.”

Officer Sun took the phone and carefully examined the chat logs. First, he photographed the conversation with his own device, then said, “We’ll send officers over. You two must protect yourselves.”

“No,” Chaoyao stopped him. “If you go, you’ll only alert her. It’s better if I go.”

Wen Zhixu didn’t join the discussion. She stepped onto the balcony and called Chaoyao’s father directly. As soon as the call connected, she demanded,

“Was it you who leaked the recordings and photos from Chaoyao’s phone?”

She couldn’t think of any other possibility. It had to be him.

“You’re smart, so what? Is Chaoyao that important to you? Think about it yourself—would you rather be a wealthy heiress or an orphaned teacher wandering outside?”

“Do you realize what you’re doing? You’ll get her killed! We all agreed to help you back then, so why are you acting like this now?” Wen Zhixu nearly roared into the phone.

“You’ll understand later. This will be her own decision, and you can’t stop it.”

“If anything happens to her, I’ll ruin your reputation too. As long as she’s safe, we can remain allies, but don’t push your luck.”

After a brief silence, the other end burst into laughter.

“Hahaha! Truly my daughter. Don’t worry, nothing will happen to her. I wouldn’t let any child who volunteered to help me eliminate threats come to harm.”

Wen Zhixu hung up and confronted Chaoyao directly, “Did you know my father would leak your information?”

Chaoyao froze. “I didn’t…”

“But I did tell him that if things went wrong, I could serve as a hostage or witness. I never imagined he’d hack my phone and spread the information about Xin’er and the others.”

With others present, Wen Zhixu didn’t want to escalate the situation. She asked Chaoyao, “What’s your plan now?”

Chaoyao’s gaze drifted, her mind made up but unwilling to share. “We’ll investigate their hiding place later.”

Officer Sun interjected, “Time is critical. Inform me immediately if you find anything.”

Fearing Chaoyao might act alone, Wen Zhixu installed a tracker on her. “We’ll investigate together. Don’t stray too far from me.”

The tracker was originally meant for Director Zhang, but now it was used on an ally instead.

They split up—Officer Sun maintained contact with Wen Zhixu while returning to request backup, while Wen Zhixu stayed close to Chaoyao, knowing some things were inevitable. After all, Chaoyao was the protagonist; she’d inevitably locate the targets.

This was something… 006 had told her. Wen Zhixu could only sigh—novel worlds and reality were never the same.

Chaoyao was consumed by guilt. She had endangered two children. If she hadn’t spoken to them, saved their photos, or taken pictures, Song’s father wouldn’t have leaked the information.

Wen Zhixu had monitored the trending topics. Director Zhang tried suppressing them, but each time the posts were taken down, they resurfaced. She knew Song’s father was behind it—everyone did. They just wanted to see the villain fall.

“She’s detected their location and sent it to me—they’re at the orphanage where we are,” Wen Zhixu announced.

After receiving the coordinates from Song’s father’s subordinate, Wen Zhixu forwarded them to Officer Sun, and the two rushed toward the orphanage. For more precise information, she called Yang Yue.

“Hello?”

“Teacher Yang, have you seen Director Zhang? And two children—no, possibly more. She’s kidnapped two kids.” Wen Zhixu kept her words concise.

“What?” Yang Yue’s voice rose sharply.

“Don’t panic. I’ve been resting in the dormitory. I’ll check the surveillance—no, I’ll ask the guard first.”

Wen Zhixu: “Update me as soon as you know anything.”

Chaoyao: “You search the front courtyard later. I’ll take the back.”

“No.” Wen Zhixu replied without hesitation. “We’ll go together.”

Chaoyao rejected the suggestion. “Splitting up will be faster, and they can’t have gone far since we’re still within the orphanage compound.”

After getting in the car, Wen Zhixu sped toward the orphanage. Fortunately, all the traffic lights were green.

Wen Zhixu knew Chaoyao had her own ideas. With finding the child being the priority now, she had no choice but to agree. “I don’t want us to separate. If we must, let’s switch—you take the backyard, I’ll search the front yard.”

A flicker passed through Chaoyao’s eyes. “Alright. Be careful.”

–

Yang Yue was already waiting at the school gate. The moment she saw Wen Zhixu, she said, “I checked the surveillance and spoke with security. Director Zhang did enter, but she didn’t ask about anything. Her figure disappeared after entering the first building.”

Wen Zhixu: “She’s given up. The scandal can’t be suppressed—there’s solid evidence. They’re under intense scrutiny now; even the slightest incident could crush them.”

During the drive, Wen Zhixu had been pondering why everything seemed so meticulously arranged. Now it was clear—Song’s father was truly formidable. With public attention focused on Director Zhang’s family, even a minor incident could explode.

Yang Yue: “Let’s focus on rescuing the child first. Did you call the police?”

Wen Zhixu: “Yes, but they’re in plain clothes, surrounding the area.”

Two minutes had already passed. Since Chaoyao hadn’t mentioned any time constraints, Wen Zhixu urged, “Let’s start searching.”

Officer Sun had already surrounded the orphanage discreetly, blocking every possible exit.

Wen Zhixu: “Alright, I’ll take the backyard.”

Yang Yue: “What about me? The backyard is large. I’ll go with you first, then check the playground. There’s a hidden exit there—they might try to escape through it.”

Wen Zhixu nodded. “Okay.”

Chaoyao had just taken a step when she suddenly turned back. “Teacher Song.”

Wen Zhixu paused. “What is it?”

Chaoyao hesitated briefly, but with time pressing, she pulled Wen Zhixu into an embrace and kissed her on the lips. “I like you, Teacher Song. I love you.”

Yang Yue: “…”

???

Is this for real?

Am I still dreaming?

Wen Zhixu froze. “Wh-what’s going on?”

Being kissed so openly in public—how was she supposed to explain that she hadn’t actually been grooming a minor?

Chaoyao released her. “See you soon.”

In truth, neither of them needed to worry. Director Zhang had already contacted Chaoyao—she wouldn’t harm the child, but on one condition: she would take full responsibility for the crimes.

Chaoyao believed that since she was someone easily discarded, sacrificing herself to save everyone else was acceptable.

More importantly, even if she confessed, the videos would still implicate Director Zhang and affect her lover’s promotion, ultimately allowing Song’s father to gain everything.

At the same time, it would protect the person she loved.

The playground was part of the backyard. Yang Yue stood nearby, utterly bewildered. She felt like she’d witnessed something significant but didn’t know how to bring it up.

Wen Zhixu stated plainly, “We’re together. I like women, and so does she.”

Only when they reached the outside of the dark room did Yang Yue finally speak. “It’s no big deal… I just didn’t expect it…”

“Wait.” Wen Zhixu suddenly stopped. “Let’s go find Chaoyao.”

The phone tracker showed Chaoyao’s location still at the security office. She must have left her phone behind—now there was no way to contact her.

Yang Yue: “Huh? What’s wrong?”

Wen Zhixu’s heart tightened—she had a bad feeling about this.

“006, check the female lead’s corruption value for me.”

…

 

Host, the favorability level is at 100%, and the corruption value is rapidly dropping—it’s already down to 5%.

Wen Zhixu stopped in her tracks. The wind roared in her ears, and her legs felt as if they were bound by fragile paper strips. One wrong step, and she would collapse.

“Is there… some hidden place in the front courtyard?” Wen Zhixu suddenly grabbed Yang Yue and asked.

But Yang Yue had only arrived a few months earlier than her and wasn’t much more familiar with the place.

She was so foolish. Why hadn’t she realized that sudden heartache carried a warning? From the moment they met, Wen Zhixu had treated Chaoyao like a carefully nurtured flower, letting her bloom under the sunlight.

But… only under the sunlight. It turned out that she was the one being protected all along. She was so foolish—she didn’t know how to express her feelings, couldn’t see the meaning behind restrained emotions.

Wen Zhixu pulled out her phone, but her arm suddenly went weak. The phone slipped from her grasp and fell to the ground, the star-shaped phone case popping off.

Yang Yue picked it up. “I understand what you mean. We need to hurry and look for her. Even if we can’t find her now, we have to try.”

Wen Zhixu snatched the phone back, frantically unlocked it, and dialed the first number in her contacts.

When the call connected, Wen Zhixu asked in a panicked voice,

“Does Chaoyao’s disappearance have anything to do with you?”

Song’s father: “You two really baffle me. All I can tell you is—Class 1, Grade 1. There’s a surprise beneath that classroom.”

The call ended abruptly. Wen Zhixu grabbed Yang Yue and ran toward the location. When they reached the abandoned classroom, Wen Zhixu said, “Go find Officer Sun—the short-haired woman in casual clothes.”

Yang Yue’s eyes widened. “You’re going down there alone?”

Wen Zhixu: “She wouldn’t actually kill someone, would she? Go get help. Without a guide, Officer Sun and the others might not find this place in time.”

Yang Yue didn’t want Wen Zhixu to go down there, but saving Chaoyao was urgent. She turned and sprinted toward Officer Sun’s direction.

Wen Zhixu smashed the window with a brick, shattering the glass instantly. She took off her jacket, wrapped it around her hands, cleared the shards, and climbed inside.

The classroom was filled with discarded desks and chairs, cobwebs covering the walls. Wen Zhixu covered her mouth and nose, coughing lightly. The door showed signs of being opened and relocked—the key had been removed.

Song’s father had mentioned an underground space, so it had to be beneath their feet. And Chaoyao must have known about it.

Her gaze landed on the right corner. Everywhere else was draped in cobwebs, but that spot looked disturbed, the webs torn. Wen Zhixu moved the desks and chairs aside, dust stinging her eyes, but she did see a loose floor tile.

The basement was pitch-black, save for the faint light seeping through the lifted tile. Wen Zhixu descended until she reached a door.

She reached out, and it swung open easily. Her heart pounded wildly, but her instincts told her—Chaoyao was inside.

As the door opened, blinding light instantly made Wen Zhixu’s eyes ache. She raised her arm to shield her vision.

Chaoyao froze. “Why are you here? Get out, now.”

Wen Zhixu lowered his arms. Chaoyao lay on the ground, covered in bl00d, with two terrified children crying behind her.

Chaoyao struggled to rise, crawling toward Wen Zhixu. “Run!” she urged.

Dean Zhang suddenly laughed, his voice nearly a roar. “You dare lie to me? How dare you deceive me? You said no one would come—why are they here?!”

Wen Zhixu helped Chaoyao up. Her body bore knife wounds, her clothes soaked crimson. As he lifted her, their garments were instantly drenched in bl00d.

“Why? Why is this happening?” Wen Zhixu asked.

Chaoyao replied weakly, “My life was never worth much anyway—but you’re different. You could have had a bright future. Teacher Song, when the time comes, just say you knew nothing.”

“No.” Wen Zhixu pressed a hand against her bleeding arm. “I told you to stay with me. You can’t run off on your own.”

Host, the ending has not been altered.

She understood now. No wonder the system had said the outcome remained unchanged—Chaoyao would kill these people, and the story would end the same way.

Director Zhang chuckled darkly. “Then die together. No—wait, you don’t get to die so easily. If you dare betray me, if you dare threaten these children’s lives, then you’ll pay with your own.”

Wen Zhixu demanded, “Did she tell you something?”

Chaoyao was losing too much bl00d. Her body trembled—she had taken two slashes from Director Zhang while shielding the two children. Fortunately, none had struck a vital spot.

With a knife in hand and two terrified children as leverage, Director Zhang showed no fear. The moment she saw Wen Zhixu, she knew—the ending was set in stone. She had lost. All because she had let Song Nuan into the orphanage.

Back then, she had assumed Song Nuan was just another assigned teacher. She hadn’t thought much of it—people like that wouldn’t dare act recklessly, not with their careers at stake. But who could’ve imagined? The esteemed young lady of the Song family, volunteering at an orphanage—it was laughable, really.

Director Zhang raised the knife. “Chaoyao, I’ll give you one last chance. Publicly retract everything. Say someone else framed you. Otherwise, none of you four are leaving here alive today.”

Chaoyao forced herself upright. “Fine. But let them go first.”

The stab wounds on her back sent waves of pain through her, making her shudder. In the dimness, the two children wept silently in fear.

Wen Zhixu whispered urgently, “Don’t.”

“Let them go?” Director Zhang laughed. Time had spared her face wrinkles, but the darkness in her heart made her grotesque. “You think I’d believe that? She’s already here—who knows who else might follow? No, you’re all coming with me now. Then you’ll make your statement.”

There was a hidden door in the basement, leading straight outside—where her people waited.

Chaoyao’s gaze grew cold, her breathing steady. Wen Zhixu tried to steady her but accidentally brushed against something.

Looking down, she saw it—a fruit knife.

Chaoyao had tied it to her wrist, hiding a blade where no one could see.

So, if Chaoyao acted, the ending wouldn’t change.

“Chaoyao, do you remember that night?”

At Wen Zhixu’s voice, Chaoyao’s agitation eased slightly. Director Zhang locked the door, ensuring no one else could enter.

“I told you before—today was always meant to be a peaceful night.” Wen Zhixu gripped Chaoyao’s wrist. “Don’t throw your life away for someone who’s already lost.”

The moment the door clicked shut, Officer Sun and the others arrived. Yang Yue had moved quickly, tracking Wen Zhixu just in time.

Director Zhang brandished the knife. “Move. All of you, follow me. And not a word about what happened here today.”

Wen Zhixu smirked. “Too late. You already know you can’t escape. Why else would your beloved announce the divorce, claiming he knew nothing?”

One second before Wen Zhixu entered, Song’s father sent the publicly disclosed information. Seizing this opportunity, he chose to sacrifice his pawn.

Director Zhang looked suspicious, then said, “Impossible. Everything I did was for him. He wouldn’t…”

Chaoyao sneered, “You’re sick, you know that? So you enjoy abusing children—you can’t get your kicks from authority at home, so you get off on tormenting kids. Must feel great watching them beg for mercy, huh? Sooner or later, it’ll come back to bite you.”

Director Zhang opened her phone. Moments later, her eyes turned bloodshot as she raised a knife. “You all want to laugh at me? Chaoyao, oh Chaoyao, I underestimated you. I thought you were the most submissive one. Turns out, it was all an act.”

“Hahahaha! If I can’t live, then you’re all coming with me. Hahahaha!”

Brandishing the knife, Director Zhang lunged at Chaoyao like a madwoman. Just as she reached her, the door burst open.

Officer Sun raised his gun. “Stop! Another move and I’ll shoot!”

Wen Zhixu urgently called out, “Officer Sun, Chaoyao is injured—get her to a hospital!”

Officer Sun repeated, “Drop the knife. I won’t say it again, or we fire.”

“Sun Qi?” Director Zhang lowered the knife, scrutinizing the man before bursting into laughter. “Hahahaha! So you’re all Song Qimin’s lackeys. We were just pawns all along.”

“Chaoyao, open your eyes—who was it that fed you? And now you betray me for Song Qimin?”

Fearing she might harm Chaoyao, Wen Zhixu pushed her behind him. “Officer Sun, I have the evidence. Arrest her now and get Chaoyao to the hospital!”

Officer Sun signaled two officers to restrain Director Zhang before holstering his gun. “Move out.”

Yang Yue steadied Wen Zhixu. “You two are something else. How did you even find this place? If not for spotting the clothes, I’d never have guessed there was a basement underneath.”

Wen Zhixu knew it was Song’s father who provided the lead, but he felt no gratitude—this was just expedient for him now. Next time, it might be him being arrested.

As they headed for the exit, Officer Sun led two traumatized children who also needed medical attention.

“You damned traitors can all die!” Director Zhang suddenly went berserk, shoving the two officers aside and pulling another knife from her chest, slashing toward Wen Zhixu.

Host, will you use your only chance to request assistance?

“Yes.”

In that panicked moment, Wen Zhixu heard the system’s prompt and answered without hesitation. Time froze instantly, darkness enveloping everything—then reality snapped back as Director Zhang was subdued just in time.

Chaoyao collapsed unconscious.

“Chaoyao!”

The door swung open as paramedics arrived. Officer Sun rushed Chaoyao onto the ambulance while the police took Director Zhang away.

Wen Zhixu boarded the vehicle, watching as the doctor treated Chaoyao’s wounds. Bl00d soaked every gauze pad, his heart tightening with dread.

Yang Yue couldn’t take it. “What the hell happened? How did Chaoyao know Director Zhang was there? Why did she go in alone?”

Wen Zhixu knew the answer. Once Director Zhang realized she was cornered, she had tried to manipulate Chaoyao into clearing her name, clinging to any lifeline. But Chaoyao wanted revenge—she never fully trusted him in the end.

“Stop asking. What matters is it’s resolved. Once Dean Zhang is sentenced, the children can finally live good lives.”

Host, I just realized you didn’t waste that opportunity.

“What?” Wen Zhixu was puzzled. She had indeed felt time freeze, and in the blink of an eye, the person had been subdued.

Host, this was unexpected for me too. I used my ability, but a strange electric current blocked me.

Too much had happened today, and she had no energy left to dwell on it. “Forget it. Doesn’t matter—I still came out on top.”

Host, one more thing—your mission isn’t completed yet.

Wen Zhixu’s eyes flickered. She had nearly forgotten, treating the system more like a friend in her daily life. So she still had a mission.

“It’s fine.”

Unfinished or not, as long as Chaoyao’s ultimate fate could be changed, she didn’t mind staying a few more days—even for the rest of her life.

–

Dean Zhang was ultimately sentenced to death for embezzlement and abuse. Her partner, caught in the fallout, lost their chance, which then fell into the hands of Song’s father.

His promotion would determine the fate of the entire family, so he took the opportunity to grant Wen Zhixu the freedom to choose her own path in love.

But not everyone was happy about it.

On the day Chaoyao was discharged from the hospital, Wen Zhixu and Yang Yue accompanied her back. As soon as the car stopped at the gate, Yang Yue asked, “Teacher Song, isn’t that your sister? She looks familiar.”

Wen Zhixu glanced up. “Ignore her. Just keep going.”

Song Chaoyao spotted Wen Zhixu and immediately blocked the car, shouting for her to come out, saying she had something to say.

Yang Yue sighed. “Well, I can’t exactly run her over.”

Chaoyao stayed silent, knowing exactly why Song Chaoyao was looking for Wen Zhixu.

Wen Zhixu sighed, turning wide eyes to Chaoyao. “Want to come with me?”

Chaoyao smiled. “Sure.”

When the two stepped out together, Song Chaoyao’s fury was unmistakable. She clenched her fists, her newly cropped and color-tipped hair bristling. Pointing at Chaoyao, she demanded, “Do you actually like her?”

She had thought her sister was just fooling around, but now even their father was speaking up for them—this wasn’t how things were supposed to go.

“Yes,” Chaoyao answered for her. “I like her, and she likes me. Got a problem with that?”

“Shut up!”

“Get lost!”

“Just die already!”

“Who the hell do you think you are?!”

“Enough,” Wen Zhixu cut in coldly. “What do you want? If you’ve got nothing useful to say, get lost.”