Villain Strategy Rules [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 34

Wen Zhixu genuinely had an impulse—she wanted to use her points to exchange for a segment of memory, her memories with Chaoyao, and then play them frame by frame for Qin Nanxi to see, to make her understand that they were meant for each other.

It was just that neither of them had those memories now. Before, it was also because she couldn’t remember, made mistakes, and ended up hurting her, forgetting her.

But… Jiang Qingyue had been so cruel, hurting the very person she liked. Back then, she had coldly dumped her in front of so many people. Sigh, there was no way to go back to that day now… So she would just have to clean up the mess herself.

In the novel’s ending, the female lead’s grades were tampered with, leading to her being expelled from school for reflection. Her parents then planned to sell her off for money. After she barely managed to escape, she was reported when she returned to the dorm to retrieve her belongings… Ultimately, it led to her completely losing hope in life. Just then, Jiang Qingyue appeared before her, and she grabbed her, locked the door, and set the dorm on fire.

Wen Zhixu sighed helplessly… It was as the saying went—there were no born villains, most were forced into it. If no one had altered her grades, or if after the incident, her teachers, classmates, and parents had helped her clarify the truth and find evidence, none of this would have happened.

This class was math. Wen Zhixu listened carefully to the problems the teacher explained, but after grumbling a few complaints in her mind, she realized she couldn’t keep up.

It had been so long since she last studied—who could suddenly pick it up now? But her top priority was to get closer to Chaoyao… no, now called Qin Nanxi—and slowly win her over.

If they were the same person… then their personalities should be similar, right? First, academically strong. Initially, they both resisted blandness. Chaoyao couldn’t handle being suddenly flirted with—one tease and she’d give in. So… would Qin Nanxi be the same?

Wen Zhixu rested her head on the desk, staring at Qin Nanxi’s back. The faded school uniform wrinkled slightly with the movement of its wearer’s arms. Wen Zhixu reached out a finger and lightly traced small circles on Qin Nanxi’s uniform.

The owner of the uniform visibly stiffened, but since it was class time, Qin Nanxi didn’t react too strongly. Five minutes later, however, a note appeared in Wen Zhixu’s hand.

What do you want?

Wen Zhixu glanced at the math teacher, who was fully immersed in the lesson and hadn’t noticed the back-left corner of the classroom. She quickly scribbled a reply:

Are you still angry?

Qin Nanxi seemed puzzled by Wen Zhixu’s sudden change. Whether she was focused on the lesson or contemplating how to respond, by the time Wen Zhixu got her answer, class had already ended.

“You don’t need to feel conflicted just because I saved you. If you don’t actually like me, there’s no need to bother me. That day, even if it hadn’t been you—even if it had been a stranger—I would’ve still helped.”

As soon as class ended, Qin Nanxi didn’t even turn around. She just held the note between her fingers, raised it mid-air, and spoke firmly.

Some of their classmates grew curious, casting glances their way, but Tang Mo, who didn’t know what had happened between her friends yet understood her temperament, silenced the onlookers with a look.

Wen Zhixu took the note and was about to say something when Qin Nanxi turned and walked away from her seat. She hurriedly stood up, wanting to grab her and explain, but her hand only brushed against the hem of Qin Nanxi’s clothes—ultimately failing to hold her back.

Tang Mo asked, “What’s wrong?”

Wen Zhixu murmured, “I think I still like her.”

“What?” Tang Mo was shocked. “Didn’t you say before that she only cared about studying all day, never chatted with you, never played games with you, never went out with you, and was too boring?”

Back then, Jiang Qingyue had been extremely harsh, saying she never wanted anything to do with Qin Nanxi in this lifetime. Even her close friends thought she had gone crazy for a while, but now she had recovered.

Yet who would have thought that madness was about to strike again.

Wen Zhixu crumpled the note in her hand until the original neatness was unrecognizable, then said, “I worked so hard to pursue her back then, so why didn’t I know how to cherish her?”

“Who knows about you,” Tang Mo propped her chin on her hand. “When you were chasing her, the whole school knew about it. Now you can’t back out so easily.”

Wen Zhixu stood up. “No! If I managed to win her over once, I’ll do it again.”

The composition of Qin Nanxi’s darkening values was quite obvious, and this abandoned relationship was undoubtedly one of the factors.

Back when Jiang Qingyue pursued Qin Nanxi, she bought her milk every morning. Even though they attended different schools several kilometers apart, Jiang Qingyue chose to run her morning jog near Qin Nanxi’s school.

So every time she handed over the milk, sweaty and breathless, Qin Nanxi couldn’t refuse.

After many such exchanges, Qin Nanxi eventually treated her to a meal, and Jiang Qingyue seized the opportunity to confess. Qin Nanxi agreed. Who would have thought it wouldn’t even last a week! Not even a week!

But now it was almost time for afternoon dismissal. Wen Zhixu couldn’t very well give her milk at night—wouldn’t that keep her awake?

Then again, maybe not. Wen Zhixu couldn’t sleep after drinking milk at night, but everyone’s constitution was different. Nanxi might be fine.

Wen Zhixu acted immediately. She went straight to the school store, only to bump into Qin Nanxi as soon as she pushed the door open.

Qin Nanxi was carrying two large bags of snacks and water. They looked heavy, and her face was slightly flushed, her breathing labored. But Wen Zhixu knew those weren’t for her.

Qin Nanxi’s family didn’t give her an allowance—all her money came from tutoring others and scholarships. And to save for university, she had always been frugal.

Wen Zhixu reached out to help carry the bags, but Qin Nanxi deftly avoided her. In that moment, she resolutely walked past Wen Zhixu and strode away.

The store was crowded, and as class time approached, a wave of students surged out, pushing Wen Zhixu further inside while Qin Nanxi gradually disappeared from sight.

By the time Wen Zhixu returned to the classroom, the two bags of snacks Qin Nanxi had bought were gone. Instead, many students who hadn’t left the room now had the food they wanted on their desks.

The weather was hot, and the store was a bit far from the classroom. With the usual crowds, no one wanted to make the trip, so they had to find someone to do the job.

Wen Zhixu looked at the bottled water on her desk and asked Tang Mo, puzzled, “Where did this come from?”

She already knew the answer—she just wanted confirmation.

Tang Mo, sipping a cola, replied, “Isn’t Qin Nanxi working part-time to help classmates buy things? This is what I got for you. Since it’s hot and you don’t usually drink soda, I bought you mineral water.”

Wen Zhixu picked at the label stuck to the bottle with her fingers, holding the milk she’d bought—honeydew flavored, Qin Nanxi’s favorite from what she remembered.

She suddenly asked, “Wait, how come I didn’t know about this?”

“Ah?” Tang Mo was puzzled. “No idea. But you really weren’t in the group chat. I thought you didn’t eat snacks, so you never joined.”

Wen Zhixu pressed further, “How much does she make per class?”

Tang Mo: “Water’s 50 cents a bottle, snacks 30 cents a pack. I think most sales happen during the big breaks in the morning and afternoon. The rest of the time, people barely have time to use the bathroom or drink water. Two rounds a day—she probably makes around 20 yuan?”

“Actually, it’s not a bad thing. Besides scholarships and grants, Qin Nanxi doesn’t have any other income. Her tuition is waived, but what about university? There’s living expenses, housing, social costs… all kinds of things. If she saves up a little now during breaks, it’ll make things easier later.”

Qin Nanxi was fiercely independent. During holidays, she took on part-time jobs, and during school, she ran errands for students, slowly saving up for university.

But the more Wen Zhixu learned, the worse she felt. Just how desperate must someone have been—someone who once held such bright hopes for the future—to choose to set herself on fire?

Wen Zhixu roughly understood that, in this world, Qin Nanxi’s personality was cold, her heart too closed off. Yet she was also deeply emotional. After a series of betrayals, she lost all hope to live, her heart perpetually weighed down by despair.

So the first step now was to resolve what had happened during their breakup.

But every time Wen Zhixu spoke to Qin Nanxi, she was met with coldness, distance, resentment… even hatred.

“Sorry” was easy to say. But sincerity and whether the other person accepted it—that was the hard part.

Wen Zhixu stared at the milk in her bag. Her vision blurred, and without thinking, she placed it on Qin Nanxi’s desk. “This is to help you recover. You hurt your bones saving me, so it’s only right I take care of your food, clothes, and living expenses for now.”

“Y-you shouldn’t refuse.” Wen Zhixu suddenly stumbled over her words, her face flushing, her gaze darting around awkwardly. “If you do, people might think I’m ungrateful to my savior.”

Personality couldn’t change overnight, so Wen Zhixu could only try her best to mimic the Qin Nanxi she remembered.

Qin Nanxi froze. “I’ll accept your kindness. As for the food and living expenses, I can agree to that for now. But if you have any other intentions, you should drop them early.”

“Deal!” Wen Zhixu nodded eagerly, afraid Qin Nanxi might take it back the next second.

Accepting this was the first step. Getting closer later would be much easier.

Wen Zhixu smiled. “You’re injured—let me open it for you.”

“No need.” Qin Nanxi’s voice was icy. “It’s my foot that’s hurt, not my hands.”

Wen Zhixu: “Then is there anything else you need help with? I’m happy to assist anytime. Don’t feel shy—from now on, I’m your little assistant.”

Qin Nanxi turned away and picked up her pen. “Right now, I just want to study. The best help you can give is not disturbing me.”

“Understood, ma’am!”

Qin Nanxi suddenly turned around, and Wen Zhixu seized the chance to blink those big eyes of hers. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Qin Nanxi lowered her gaze. “I need to study.”

“Okay!”

About ten minutes later, Wen Zhixu noticed class was about to start and leaned over again. “Class is starting soon, and right after this one, it’s dinner time. I’ll have the auntie bring an extra portion—why don’t you eat with me?”

Qin Nanxi’s pupils flickered slightly. “Mm.”