Villain Strategy Rules [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 56

Wen Zhixu brought Tang Mo to the designated spot and took out the book. She flipped to page 69—the content hadn’t changed, but today, the words seemed to pulse, as if leaping into three-dimensional space, transmitting something to her.

Yet Tang Mo’s sudden call snapped her out of her trance. She handed the book to Tang Mo and said, “Take a look.”

It was nighttime, still within the restaurant hours, and the library was nearly empty, which was why Wen Zhixu dared to speak aloud. She had arranged for the driver to pick them up at ten, so this was her window for exploration. Everything felt too coincidental, as if a rift in time had appeared, allowing fragments of memory to materialize out of nowhere.

Qin Nanxi casually picked up a book from the shelf, sharing the same doubts as Wen Zhixu. But she knew she couldn’t resist or question it—this world was meant to have only her as the unique existence.

Tang Mo sat on the floor, carefully examining the diary. Meanwhile, Wen Zhixu moved closer to Qin Nanxi and whispered, “I just glanced at page 69—it talks about another world. Nanxi, I think you mentioned it to me before. Do you know what it means?”

She stared intently into Qin Nanxi’s eyes, hoping to find even the slightest clue, but there was nothing. Qin Nanxi merely replied indifferently, “I only brought it up last time because the idea crossed my mind. I was curious, so I mentioned it to you.”

Wen Zhixu stepped closer, crouching down to face Qin Nanxi directly. She leaned lightly on her shoulder, feigning curiosity as she said, “Ohhh, I thought… maybe this world is just an illusion, that it doesn’t really exist. I was worried we were just fleeting encounters, not even real.”

Host, I forgot to mention earlier—if you bring up the topic of another world to this world’s protagonist, there will be consequences.

Wen Zhixu: “…”

“Good, good,” she quickly shifted tactics. “Good thing it’s all fake, just your imagination. That night, I spent hours searching for information, afraid it might be real…”

Tch. This system isn’t reliable either, so maybe I shouldn’t trust it. For the first time across two worlds, Wen Zhixu felt a pang of panic—as if she were living in a predetermined storyline, allowed minor deviations but never major changes.

Qin Nanxi lifted her gaze, studying Wen Zhixu before parting her lips slightly to ask, “Qingyue… Everyone used to tell me you were arrogant and domineering… But you don’t seem like that at all. And didn’t you used to love sports? The current you feels like a different person—more cheerful, kinder, and much more affectionate.”

Wen Zhixu forced composure, though beads of sweat formed on her forehead despite the chill. “Ah, it’s all my mom’s fault. Between you and me, I never wanted to inherit the family business, so I’ve been acting this way. If I were too sensible, I’d end up like Cousin Tang Jing—with no time to myself.”

“As for sports… I still love them! It’s just… you bring me more happiness than sports ever could.”

She leaned in, her nose brushing against Qin Nanxi’s, and teased with a grin, “So, will you keep me company? That way, my happiness can double.”

Qin Nanxi wasn’t particularly fond of sports. She excelled in academics but spent little time on physical activities—unless absolutely necessary, she’d always choose studying over anything else.

But when Wen Zhixu suggested…

She smiled. “I’m not exactly athletic, so I might not keep up with your pace. But if you want to double the fun, then having you beside me while I study would make me twice as happy too. How about… I study while you run?”

Outside, rain began to fall. The transparent floor-to-ceiling windows were soon streaked with droplets, and the greenery beyond grew more vibrant. Even in the harsh mountain environment, a few flowers stubbornly bloomed, radiating life.

The rhythmic patter of rain interrupted Wen Zhixu’s thoughts. She gazed at the scenery outside, while inside, the lights flickered occasionally due to the poor electrical connection caused by the storm. Yet Wen Zhixu couldn’t shake the feeling… this setting felt strangely familiar, as if she had seen or experienced it somewhere before.

Tang Mo watched the heavy rain outside and tucked away her diary, voicing her concern. “With this downpour, will we even be able to go back tonight?”

It was Wen Zhixu’s fault for not considering this earlier. The route from the city to the library passed through a stretch of mountain road, and heavy rain could make travel difficult. No wonder the library was nearly empty today—only the locals who lived nearby had come.

Wen Zhixu replied casually, “It’s fine. We can just stay overnight. There’s a hotel upstairs anyway.”

After saying this, she sent a message to the driver to make sure he didn’t come alone and risk getting stuck in the storm.

Tang Mo shrugged. “Alright.”

As long as she didn’t have to attend classes, she was fine staying anywhere. Besides, experiencing a night here meant she could bring her senior along next time.

But soon, she also came across the contents of page 69. Bringing the diary over to Wen Zhixu and the others, she asked curiously, “Is this what Auntie meant by ‘the love story written by a madwoman’?”

What others dismissed as the ramblings of a madwoman, Wen Zhixu saw as something real. She suspected this woman was like her—someone who had crossed into another world, only to realize something was wrong and start speaking incoherently, leading others to label her insane.

So… would she end up the same way? Babbling nonsense, only to be deemed a lunatic?

She didn’t know what this woman had gone through or when she had discovered the truth—whether it was in the first world or the second. For now, Wen Zhixu focused on progress. She had to complete the tasks assigned by the system.

Wen Zhixu said, “Maybe it’s just playful banter between them? Or some kind of code?”

Qin Nanxi added, “I don’t think she was necessarily insane. She might’ve just been writing for fun.”

“Right,” Tang Mo agreed. “Maybe it was just for fun.”

Suddenly, Wen Zhixu grabbed Tang Mo’s hand. She flipped to page 69, scrutinizing the words before asking, “Tang Mo, do you think she was crazy?”

Startled, Tang Mo pulled her hand back. She opened the page and laid it on the floor. Three pairs of eyes fixed on the text, while two of them also studied Tang Mo. After a moment, she said, “I don’t know if she was crazy, but it could’ve just been written for fun. Who would believe this if it got out? She probably watched some bizarre movie or drama and started imagining things.”

Qin Nanxi also said, “We can’t exactly call them crazy. It’s just that their way of thinking is different from ours.”

Tang Mo nodded in agreement. “Exactly, that’s what I meant.”

Wen Zhixu fell silent. It seemed she was the only one who had taken it seriously.

At that moment, Qin Nanxi felt a stomachache coming on and excused herself to the bathroom. Seizing the opportunity, Wen Zhixu pulled Tang Mo to the window, using the sound of rain to mask their conversation. “Have you noticed any changes in Qin Nanxi? Like… in her personality or preferences?”

Tang Mo frowned, looking at Wen Zhixu with confusion. After some thought, she replied, “No, not at all. Qin Nanxi has always been like this—same personality since childhood. Didn’t we investigate this together before?”

Since childhood… always the same.

Could it be that Wen Zhixu was mistaken? Had she misunderstood? Maybe Qin Nanxi was just intelligent, and the system was right—she was the only outsider in this world. There couldn’t possibly be a second one…

Whether it was Qin Nanxi or Chao Yao, they were all just one person, merely characters shaped by the story’s plot.

She let out a soft, bitter laugh. The panic and joy she had felt earlier vanished without a trace, leaving only an overwhelming sense of sorrow. She had thought… she had fallen in love with a real person. But now it seemed that every person she loved was just the soul of a fictional character.

Leaning against the window, Wen Zhixu’s eyes lost their luster as she stared into the distance. “Never mind, I was just asking. But don’t mention this to anyone, even if Qin Nanxi asks you about it.”

“Why would she ask me?” Tang Mo grew increasingly curious. It felt like, at some point, both of them had started acting strangely, saying things she couldn’t understand and doing things that made no sense.

Wen Zhixu lowered her head with a faint smile. “Just do as I say. It’s important—it concerns… my life.”

Tang Mo couldn’t help but laugh, thinking it was just another one of their games. She didn’t press further.

Wen Zhixu asked the system, “006, can I trust you?”

Host, I exist solely to serve you. Your fate is tied to mine, so you can trust me completely.

“Then… what does this story mean? Are they really crazy?”

Host, this world is constantly changing. Perhaps somewhere in another world, there’s another version of you waiting to meet. As for this story, they’re not crazy—they’ve simply developed independent thought.

Independent thought…

Come to think of it, Wen Zhixu had also started feeling something was off. Could it be that she, too, had developed independent thought?

“Will I have my own thoughts? Or will other thoughts emerge within me?”

Host, recent magnetic field disturbances may be affecting you. You should rest well and focus on completing your tasks. Don’t overthink things.

Qin Nanxi returned and sat beside Wen Zhixu, gently comforting her. “Don’t overthink it. Did you have a nightmare? Maybe those words just triggered something, making you misinterpret things.”

“It’s fine.” Wen Zhixu leaned against Qin Nanxi’s shoulder. “I’ve just been exhausted lately. My head feels dizzy and achy, and I’ve been letting my imagination run wild.”

Qin Nanxi also leaned in slightly and comforted her, saying, “Don’t overthink it. We’re very happy now. I’ll tutor you and help you get into the same university as me. From then on, we’ll always be together.”

In both worlds, Wen Zhixu never lasted more than a year. She couldn’t wait for the time when they would enter university hand in hand. Outside, the wind howled and rain poured down. Gradually, Wen Zhixu began to feel a little cold. She nestled into Qin Nanxi’s embrace, greedily inhaling her scent.

“Nanxi,” Wen Zhixu suddenly grabbed her hand and traced her fingertips across it, “Should we leave a mark for our future selves in the next life?”

Qin Nanxi asked, “What kind of mark?”

Wen Zhixu smiled and said, “A bridal bouquet.”