Villain Strategy Rules [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 55

Qin Nanxi ultimately didn’t hold Song Shuya accountable because she knew that the one who should have taken this step wasn’t her. Though Song Shuya was despicable, the system had revealed that it wasn’t her own will driving her actions.

If it had truly been Song Shuya’s intention to frame Qin Nanxi, she wouldn’t have chosen such a childish method—one that might have rendered even an omniscient perspective useless. Perhaps the plot had changed, leading to a series of loopholes.

But Song Shuya dropped out of school on her own. The incident had made them infamous, and the pressure—both from the school and psychologically—was too much for her to bear.

Before leaving, Song Shuya requested a private meeting with them.

“Qin Nanxi,” Song Shuya said, gripping her suitcase. The rumors of the past few days had left her anxious and gaunt, her face hollow. She spoke awkwardly, “I was wrong in this matter, and I’ll face the consequences. I just hope you can forgive me.”

Qin Nanxi knew the truth but couldn’t say it. She wasn’t sure what to do—perhaps everyone in this world was just an NPC, with some unseen force controlling everything. “I accept your apology. Safe travels.”

Wen Zhixu didn’t understand but respected Qin Nanxi’s decision.

Tang Mo, however, didn’t understand Qin Nanxi—nor did she understand Wen Zhixu.

Song Shuya clenched the handle of her suitcase. The silence around them was deafening, the pounding of her heart growing louder. After a long pause, she said, “I don’t know when it started, but I changed. Maybe I’m no longer the person who stood up for my classmates and cared for them. Either way, this is something I can’t move past. We’ll meet again someday.”

With that, she left—walking away from this place, from the life she had known for over a decade. Perhaps she would follow her parents to some distant place and start anew.

Wen Zhixu asked, “Aren’t you angry? About what she did to you?”

“There’s nothing to be angry about.” Qin Nanxi didn’t plan to explain. No one would believe her, and it might even backfire, making others see her as an outcast. She blinked and asked, “Shouldn’t everyone get a chance at forgiveness? You did too.”

You did too…

Wen Zhixu’s face flushed. She smiled and nodded. Though their beginning had been dramatic, Qin Nanxi had forgiven her. Forgiveness meant love, and love meant wanting to be together—and wanting to be together meant marriage.

“Qin Nanxi!” Wen Zhixu was convinced her logic was flawless—Qin Nanxi must have thought the same. She suddenly called out, grabbing Qin Nanxi’s hand and rubbing the ring on her finger. “Let’s get married.”

“Pfft!” Tang Mo, who had been watching the scene unfold, choked as if she’d heard something outrageous. Coughing, she exclaimed, “What are you saying? We’re only teenagers!”

What did age matter? Wen Zhixu couldn’t wait—she only had a few months left. If Qin Nanxi refused, then it simply wasn’t meant to be. If she didn’t—though the chances were slim—

Wen Zhixu stayed silent, waiting for Qin Nanxi’s response. Qin Nanxi seemed just as stunned, frozen for a moment before nodding. “I agree.”

Tang Mo: “What are you two talking about?”

Wen Zhixu let out a sigh of relief. “When do you want to? I’d like it before the end of this year.”

Tang Mo: “It’s already late November.”

Qin Nanxi smiled, putting on an act as if she were genuinely considering it. “Then let’s do it this weekend.”

“???” Tang Mo realized she might as well have been invisible between the two of them. Unwilling to give up, she added, “But you’re not even adults yet, and weddings require preparation, don’t they?”

Wen Zhixu shrugged and turned away with a laugh. In school, she had to suppress her emotions tightly. “Okay!”

Tang Mo gave up speaking. The two simply weren’t listening to her.

But only the two of them knew—they were already adults, free to desire things they shouldn’t.

Wen Zhixu gazed at Qin Nanxi’s profile, her thoughts drifting. What would have happened if she hadn’t appeared? Or if she had arrived too late? Would Qin Nanxi have killed someone? Would she have lost all hope in living?

In any case, she was glad she had received this mission. She could save her—stop her before it even began.

At the same time, she couldn’t help but wonder. Qin Nanxi seemed too normal. Her attitude was the opposite of Tang Mo’s, and her perspective on things didn’t align with their peers. How could someone like her possibly commit… an act as random as killing a stranger?

Qin Nanxi was also lost in thought. What if Wen Zhixu hadn’t appeared? Or if she hadn’t won her love? Would the ending have been Wen Zhixu’s sudden death, the world collapsing, everyone gone?

Thankfully, she had succeeded.

Qin Nanxi had been unwittingly pulled into this game. Her identity changed with each world—she was always the villain. To escape, she had to complete her mission. In every world, a savior would appear, though the timing varied. She had to find them, guide them onto the right path, and finish the game together.

Luckily, the saviors in each world were never foolish. She wasn’t sure when she had realized Wen Zhixu was the one this time. Maybe something she had done earlier had made the savior see the light.

And now, she might have actually developed real feelings. They looked the same, but were they truly the same person? Between truth and illusion, she wanted to know—when was any of it real?

Suddenly, her eyes widened. She had overlooked one question. Was Jiang Qingyue still the same Jiang Qingyue? Why had people’s emotions shifted so abruptly? Why had Teacher Song suddenly taken her side?

Even if the plot demanded the savior’s awakening, it shouldn’t have altered personalities.

Wen Zhixu also felt a surge of panic. The anomalies of the past few days had left her mind in a fog. She glanced sideways at Qin Nanxi and, in that moment, felt as though someone was watching them from above—toying with them like puppets.

Back in class, Wen Zhixu announced she was taking leave and left with Qin Nanxi and Tang Mo in tow.

But she hadn’t actually requested leave. She had no proper excuse—she just thought skipping class once wouldn’t hurt. There was something she needed to investigate, and she couldn’t afford to show her hand.

They arrived at the library from before. Tang Mo was puzzled. Last time, the weather had been clear, but today it was gloomy, with rain threatening. What were they here for? “Why did we come here?” she asked.

Wen Zhixu’s heart pounded violently. The words she had seen when she first came here were definitely not fabricated. She began to doubt—she no longer trusted the system. Qin Nanxi possessed a calmness and wisdom beyond her years, making Wen Zhixu suspect that everything was fake. Maybe she was dreaming, or perhaps Qin Nanxi wasn’t even real.

“Because here… on this day…” Wen Zhixu started recalling various incidents, “a story happened, one that I can never forget.”

These words were meant for Qin Nanxi. It was on that very night that their relationship changed, and someone had passed them information.

Tang Mo was utterly confused. That day, she had just read a book and then gone to buy a tree—nothing particularly unusual had happened. Could they have encountered some mountain monster? “I don’t remember anything like that.”

Wen Zhixu didn’t want to arouse suspicion. What if she was overthinking things and ended up being misunderstood? She grabbed Qin Nanxi’s arm and shook it gently. “The food Auntie made was delicious, remember? She even said we were welcome to come back. I’m craving it now. Nanxi, do you want to eat there too?”

Qin Nanxi nodded. “I do.”

Tang Mo stopped overanalyzing. “Alright. But it really was tasty!”

When they returned to the shop, the auntie greeted them warmly. “It’s so nice to see you again.”

But then she glanced at the calendar and teased, “Today isn’t a day off. Shouldn’t you be in class?”

Wen Zhixu laughed. “Auntie, we missed your cooking too much. There’s an event at school today, but we didn’t join. We’re not skipping class, promise!”

An occasional lie was necessary to smooth their path.

The auntie chuckled. “You praise my food so much—people might think I’ve poisoned it, luring you kids back again and again!”

“Auntie!” Qin Nanxi suddenly spoke up. “Your food is amazing, and the book you recommended that day was really good too.”

Wen Zhixu’s heart skipped a beat. Her suspicions deepened—because today’s visit was all about that book.

“Yeah, Auntie,” Wen Zhixu added quickly. “The stories in that book were so sweet. It felt like the characters were real, living right beside us.”

“Hahaha!” The auntie laughed again. “They are real stories—except for page 69. That was just some lunatic’s scribbles. Since the pages couldn’t be torn out, everyone just ignored it.”

A lunatic…

Qin Nanxi feigned ignorance. “Which story was on page 69? I don’t remember.”

A jolt of electricity shot through her. She gripped her thigh tightly, trying to mask the tension in this conversation.

Wen Zhixu shook her head. Maybe she was wrong. “Never mind, I don’t remember either. Auntie, we’d like the same dishes as last time.”

The auntie tied on her apron and casually pulled her hair back. “Sure, just wait here.”

Once she left, Tang Mo leaned in curiously. “What story? I don’t know anything about this. Did you two sneak off to read something good without me?”

Qin Nanxi poured a glass of water and slid it toward Wen Zhixu. “Should we take Tang Mo to see it?”

Wen Zhixu took the glass of water, her reflection shimmering on its surface. Yet at this moment, all she could recall was being trapped in the ocean’s depths—a place of utter darkness, where strange cries occasionally echoed. The abyssal waters gnawed at her flesh, eroding her soul through sheer visual torment, leaving her no escape.

“Alright.” Wen Zhixu turned to Qin Nanxi, who remained the girl she loved. “Nanxi… how about we come here in wedding dresses this Sunday and write our story together?”

They couldn’t hold a wedding in the public eye, but they could still create one just for each other.

Qin Nanxi lowered her head in thought, then nodded. “Alright.”