Villain Strategy Rules [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 3

Wen Zhixu felt this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Setting aside the mission objectives, who wouldn’t like a stunning beauty? Especially the cool, aloof type—and only eighteen years old!

Just thinking about it made her happy!

“Sure!” Wen Zhixu immediately agreed. “Since you’re not going back to school now, you can contact me anytime if you need anything. Feel free to reach out before bedtime too.”

Chaoyao gave a soft “Mm,” then after a few seconds of silence added, “Then I’ll see you tonight. During the day, I prefer to study alone.”

“Alright.” Wen Zhixu nodded. “The cafeteria is open from twelve to two and five to seven. They won’t serve outside those hours, so don’t get too caught up in studying and forget.”

The cafeteria truly didn’t care—once closing time hit, the doors shut. One weekend, Wen Zhixu had stayed up too late and slept straight until two in the afternoon. By the time she got to the cafeteria, it was closed, with nothing left. She’d ended up settling for instant noodles to stave off hunger.

“Teacher Song.” Chaoyao suddenly smiled. “I tend to lose myself in studying. Could you call me when you go to eat?”

Wen Zhixu: “Of course.”

Chaoyao returned to the classroom. There was no high school division here, and for some reason, her teachers had told her to study at home. But if it were Wen Zhixu, she wouldn’t have done that. Such a talented student, consistently ranking first in her grade—how could anyone bear to let her go?

Still, the biggest question remained: why would Chaoyao turn dark? What had happened? Wen Zhixu suspected it had something to do with her school, so she planned to take the afternoon off tomorrow to visit Chaoyao’s school. Maybe she could uncover some clues.

–

After class ended at noon, Wen Zhixu didn’t forget her promise to Chaoyao and went to the adjacent classroom to call her.

Chaoyao had fallen asleep at some point, but her sleep was light. The moment Wen Zhixu peeked in, she met Chaoyao’s pale eyes. Then Chaoyao smiled, her eyes curving into crescents like warm winter sunlight, soothing to both body and mind…

Such a jarring contrast in their interactions…

Wen Zhixu said softly, “Class is over. Want to grab lunch at the cafeteria?”

Chaoyao sat up straight, casually ran a hand through her hair, put on her glasses, and closed her book. “Sure, thank you, Teacher Song.”

Wen Zhixu asked curiously, “Your eye color is so light and pretty. Are those colored contacts, or is it natural?”

Chaoyao chuckled and replied offhandedly, “It’s from wearing glasses.”

“Really?” Wen Zhixu asked doubtfully.

Chaoyao took off her glasses, tucked a loose strand of hair behind Wen Zhixu’s ear, and gently placed the glasses on her. “Now you have light-colored eyes too.”

“…” Wen Zhixu was speechless. The glasses had no prescription! But her face certainly felt the impact! Why had Chaoyao suddenly gotten so close?

“Shall we go, Teacher Song? Or are we not eating?” Chaoyao asked.

Wen Zhixu didn’t respond, simply turning toward the cafeteria. By this time, all the good food would already be gone, but she wasn’t worried—Yang Yue would have saved her a meal. She just hoped Chaoyao could still get something decent.

Chaoyao quickly caught up, and the two walked side by side. Several minutes had passed since class ended, and the paths were nearly empty of students, leaving only the howling cold wind that made them hunch their shoulders against the chill.

When they reached the cafeteria, there was still a line, but Wen Zhixu headed straight for the faculty section. Yang Yue was already there, meal in hand, waiting for her.

“You’re finally here.” Yang Yue looked at the tardy Wen Zhixu and urged, “I remember class ended over ten minutes ago. Why did it take you so long to get here?”

Wen Zhixu casually took a seat. “Got delayed handling something important.”

“What important matter?” Yang Yue asked. “Wait, why are you wearing glasses? I never heard you were nearsighted?”

Glasses?

Ah! Chaoyao’s glasses!

Wen Zhixu quickly removed them. “These aren’t mine. They belong to classmate Chaoyao. I don’t know how they ended up on my face.”

Chaoyao had just finished getting her meal. Spotting her nearby, Yang Yue waved and called out, “Classmate Chaoyao.”

Wen Zhixu instinctively turned around—this was the perfect opportunity to return the glasses and casually invite her to join them for lunch, creating another chance to interact.

Chaoyao approached and asked, “Did you need something, Teacher Yang?”

Yang Yue pointed at the food on the table. “You came late today. The meat dishes ran out quickly. I still have some shrimp paste here—let me give you some. Senior year is tough; you need proper nutrition.”

Wen Zhixu glanced at Chaoyao’s tray. Hmm… just stir-fried potatoes and mushrooms with cabbage—not a trace of meat or even much oil.

Then she looked at her own plate: two chicken drumsticks, beef stew with potatoes, cabbage… basically all the best dishes the cafeteria had to offer.

The cafeteria always prepared a few premium dishes daily, but in very limited quantities—barely enough for a handful of students. Wen Zhixu had once suggested cooking more, only for the cafeteria manager to ask her to pay for it.

“Do you not like meat, or were these the only dishes left?” Wen Zhixu asked, scooting inward to make space and gesturing for Chaoyao to sit.

Chaoyao sat down, accepting the returned glasses from Wen Zhixu. “Nothing else was available.”

Wen Zhixu transferred one of her chicken drumsticks to Chaoyao’s bowl. “You should set an alarm next time. You don’t even have classes to attend. Look how thin you are—you’ve got no color in your face at all.”

To prevent Chaoyao from returning the drumstick, Wen Zhixu blocked the space between them with her arm, tilting her head slightly. The gesture of sharing food now made her look more like a possessive kitten guarding its meal.

Chaoyao said softly, “Thank you, Teacher Song. But won’t this posture affect your eating?”

Wen Zhixu looked up and lowered her arm. “I was just stretching. My arms got sore from teaching all morning.”

Yang Yue chuckled. “Will you still be able to dance at tonight’s performance then?”

Chaoyao’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “Dancing?” she asked, looking up.

Tonight marked the first Friday of the new semester, and the department was hosting an evening event. Since Wen Zhixu’s records showed dance training, she was scheduled as the grand finale.

Fortunately, Wen Zhixu actually could dance. She silently thanked her parents for forcing her to learn dance, painting, and guzheng as a child. The exhaustion had paid off.

Wen Zhixu blinked playfully. “That’s right, Classmate Chaoyao hasn’t seen me dance yet, has she? I’ll be the final act tonight. You’re welcome to watch.”

Just you wait—I’ll dazzle you tonight.

Chaoyao replied, “I have studying to do tonight. Probably won’t have time.”

Wen Zhixu: “…”

No matter. Studies come first. There’s still plenty of time—the kid’s only eighteen. There’ll be more chances to win her over.

–

The playground at night was filled with students and teachers gathered around a makeshift wooden stage in the center, draped with red cloth on both sides. Two dim floor lamps provided just enough light for visibility.

Wen Zhixu had changed into a thick skirt for the evening. She had originally wanted the system to give her a down vest for warmth, but the system had been unresponsive for the past two days—ignoring her calls and questions.

Perhaps it had taken after its owner’s temperament. When Wen Zhixu first arrived, she had been quite lazy, and now the system seemed to be slacking off too! But she didn’t want to slack off anymore—who wouldn’t want to save a beautiful girl?

Yang Yue ran over from the classroom with a thermos of hot water. “I ran into Chaoyao. She filled this for you.”

Wen Zhixu: “Huh?”

Didn’t Chaoyao dislike her?

“System, system, I want to check the favorability meter.”

Silence…

Whatever. Useless thing. Maybe Chaoyao had changed her mind because of that chicken drumstick at lunch? Excellent. She’d just stick to this routine from now on.

Wen Zhixu asked, “Where is she?”

Yang Yue shook her head. “I saw her at the water dispenser. When she noticed me, she handed me the cup, saying it was freshly filled hot water, then went back to the classroom—probably to study. Now we have two, one for each of us.”

Wen Zhixu soon tuned out Yang Yue’s chatter. The thermos was wrapped in a pink fabric cover embroidered with a rabbit. A faint scent of soap lingered on it.

Too bad Chaoyao wasn’t coming—she wouldn’t get to see her amazing performance.

With so few people in the orphanage, the show only had four acts. The first was a group song by all the students except Chaoyao, the second was Teacher Zhang’s violin performance, the third was a choir by the other teachers, and the fourth was Wen Zhixu’s solo dance.

Since her skirt was on the thicker side, she had chosen a simpler dance—one that was popular online, with lively music and cute moves, perfect for her.

Wen Zhixu: “Did Teacher Zhang adjust the music for me?”

The orphanage didn’t have speakers, but Teacher Zhang had brought a mini speaker, which was enough for the small crowd.

Yang Yue grinned. “All set. Teacher Zhang said she’d be ready half an hour before your dance, so you just focus on giving your best performance.”

Hearing this, Wen Zhixu relaxed. But with the long night ahead, they needed something to pass the time. “By the way, Teacher Yang, do you know why Chaoyao was expelled?”

Yang Yue was the most senior among them, having returned to the orphanage after graduating from university, making her the best source for gossip.

Yang Yue hesitated, her gaze flickering before she finally sighed. “Well… you can’t tell anyone else.”

Wen Zhixu leaned in and whispered, “You don’t trust me? My lips are sealed tighter than wire—once bound, they won’t loosen.”

Yang Yue: “The school’s official explanation was that Chaoyao bullied a classmate. The headmistress initially asked for evidence, but the school refused, citing student privacy. They said the footage wouldn’t be released and that the decision was final.”

“What?” Wen Zhixu clearly didn’t believe it. “You’re saying Chaoyao bullied someone?”

Chaoyao might have a cold demeanor, but she wasn’t a bad person. She spent all her time studying, her eyes filled with longing for university—how could she do something so foolish?

She could only blame herself for reading the book too hastily back then, skipping over many details. All she remembered was that Chaoyao had killed those people, followed by two years of her dark life in hiding, ending with suicide.

“Keep your voice down,” Yang Yue moved closer. “Actually, everyone knows Chaoyao didn’t do it. We kids from the orphanage may not have parents, but we’d never bully our classmates. Especially since the school wouldn’t even show the surveillance footage—but what could we do? They just had to take her back.”

Wen Zhixu sighed. Sometimes, people aren’t born evil—they’re just forced into it.