Chapter 80: Unexpected Returns and Lingering Dreams

“Thank you,” Zhong Tian said to Chu Lenghu’s father as he stepped out of the car at the neighborhood entrance.

“It was nothing,” Chu Lenghu’s father replied, “We’ll be going now.”

“Take care,” Zhong Tian responded.

After watching Chu Lenghu’s family car drive away, Zhong Tian pulled out his phone and initiated a WeChat call to Su Linxi.

“Hello?”

“Hello? Linxi,” he asked, “Could you check the kitchen for me? Are we out of soy sauce?”

“It’s… almost… gone,” Su Linxi replied, her voice trailing slightly.

“Alright then, I’ll pick up a new bottle now.”

“Mm-hmm.”

Ending the call, Zhong Tian made his way into the small convenience store situated beside their residential complex.

He picked up a bottle of soy sauce and two cartons of lemon tea before heading to the counter to pay.

The cashier had changed once more, now a middle-aged woman.

Zhong Tian didn’t give it much thought; he simply paid, took the plastic bag containing the soy sauce and lemon tea, and headed home.

With a few ingredients still on hand, he planned to prepare a simple meal tonight, knowing he would need to restock supplies either later that evening or the following day.

****

In the living room, Su Linxi sat, the faint, rhythmic tap-tap of her laptop’s keyboard echoing softly in the otherwise silent space.

She concluded her diary entry for the day by copying and pasting the standard warning message that appeared at the end of each piece.

A soft click sounded—

The front door opened, and Zhong Tian stepped inside, bending to change his shoes in the entryway.

While he was occupied with his shoes, Su Linxi quickly created a new document, effectively concealing her diary.

“Working on a new novel?”

Zhong Tian pulled a carton of lemon tea from the bag and offered it to Su Linxi.

“Mm-hmm,” Su Linxi replied, accepting the lemon tea. “I’m still conceptualizing the plot.”

Nodding as he sipped his lemon tea, Zhong Tian then carried the soy sauce into the kitchen.

“……”

Su Linxi removed the straw from the carton of lemon tea, pierced its seal, then poured the contents into her mug before discarding the empty carton, straw and all, into the trash.

In the kitchen, Zhong Tian, sipping his lemon tea and idly chewing on the straw, contemplated the ingredients stored within the refrigerator.

Su Linxi, however, wasn’t typing; she simply took a sip of lemon tea, her gaze lost in thought as she stared at the blank document on her screen.

In truth, writing did not come easily to her.

Each time she embarked on a writing project, it demanded extensive conceptualization and meticulous deliberation over her choice of words to produce even a modest two or three thousand characters. Despite the inherent difficulty and arduous effort, she had persevered to this day.

Her reasons were threefold: first, a genuine interest in the craft; second, a desire to approach Zhong Tian under the guise of a writer; and third, a profound yearning to recreate a comic she had co-created with Zhong Tian in her previous life.

In that past life, she had crafted the narrative while Zhong Tian brought it to life with his artwork, and they had spent countless days immersed in shared thought and discussion. Even now, years later, the mere memory of that period would invariably bring a smile to her lips—yet, constrained by the price of her acquired abilities, Su Linxi found even the simplest expression of joy, like a smile, almost impossible to manifest on her face.

Her debut work in this current life was a novelized version of the comic they had collaboratively created in her previous existence. She had invested a significant amount of money to propel the novel to fame, subsequently arranging for its printing and publication, before finally seeking out Zhong Tian to adapt it into a comic.

Yet, she soon discovered a divergence: the comic’s content in this life was beginning to differ from its previous iteration.

This realization struck her, suggesting that the trajectory of her current life might have already diverged from the path she had known in her previous one.

The subsequent events at the Taishen High School Cultural Festival only served to solidify this unsettling conviction.

A profound sense of unease settled within her.

Nevertheless, she knew she had no choice but to confront this uncertain future.

With a sigh, she took another sip of lemon tea, closed her laptop, and resolved to go assist Zhong Tian in the kitchen.

****

By eight o’clock that evening, Yu Yinlian had meticulously completed the outline for her first volume.

Though she believed her plot was sufficiently engaging, she ultimately decided to seek Zhong Tian’s opinion.

After all, only an outside perspective could swiftly identify any shortcomings; such a consultation was essential to guarantee the novel’s quality!

Eagerly, she opened WeChat, only to be struck by the sudden realization that she had never actually added Zhong Tian as a friend.

All her enthusiasm evaporated in an instant. Yu Yinlian set her phone aside, returned to her bed, lay down, closed her eyes, and exhaled a long, drawn-out breath.

‘Ah—I’m such an idiot,’ she thought, a groan escaping her lips.

She would just have to wait until school tomorrow.

****

By half past ten that night, Su Linxi had retired to bed, preparing for sleep.

While she didn’t possess Zhong Tian’s inability to endure late nights, her past life spent alongside him had instilled in her a habit of early sleep, making it unlikely she could now manage to stay up late.

She closed her eyes, and sleep soon claimed her.

****

Su Linxi’s eyes fluttered open, and she saw Zhong Tian, dressed in the Taishen High School girls’ uniform.

They sat side-by-side in an otherwise empty classroom.

Zhong Tian was engrossed in sketching comic drafts, while Su Linxi observed him from her seat nearby.

“Zhong Tian, this panel doesn’t quite capture the right feeling,” Su Linxi commented. “It needs to be adjusted.”

“Hmm… and what would you suggest changing it to?”

“I believe we should pull the perspective back a bit,” Su Linxi suggested, her finger tracing a line on Zhong Tian’s sketch paper. “That way, we can better convey the emotional distance between the male and female leads.”

“Like this?”

Zhong Tian swapped out the paper and, with swift strokes, designed a new set of panels entirely in line with Su Linxi’s vision.

Once the drawing was complete, Su Linxi picked it up, scrutinized it carefully, and a wave of satisfaction washed over her. She then placed it back on Zhong Tian’s desk, offering him an approving thumbs-up.

“I’ve completed five final drafts today,” Zhong Tian announced. “This weekend, I’ll refine them and also finish drawing the next few pages.”

“This weekend?”

Hearing this, Su Linxi’s brow furrowed. “Didn’t we make plans to go to the amusement park together this weekend?”

“Have you forgotten?”

Confronted by Su Linxi’s challenging question, Zhong Tian froze for a moment, then cleared his throat delicately and averted his eyes.

“You actually forgot!”

Su Linxi puffed out her cheeks, a playful anger in her eyes, and playfully punched Zhong Tian’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry…”

“If ‘sorry’ fixed everything, what would we need the police for?”

Zhong Tian, momentarily speechless at Su Linxi’s retort, could only shift his gaze away in embarrassment.

“Look at me!”

“Okay…”

Obediently, Zhong Tian turned to face her, his eyes locking with Su Linxi’s.

Gazing into Zhong Tian’s deep blue eyes, Su Linxi slowly leaned forward, and to his slight astonishment, settled onto his lap.

“Say ‘sorry’ just one more time, and I’ll forgive you,” she whispered.

Zhong Tian’s face flushed crimson, and, unsure where to direct his gaze, he simply squeezed his eyes shut.

“S-sorry…”

Observing his reaction, Su Linxi’s playful spirit surged, and she edged even closer, pressing almost entirely against Zhong Tian.

“I can’t quite hear you. Could you say that again?”

“…Sorry.”

Zhong Tian’s eyes remained tightly shut, his blush deepening further.

With a satisfied smile, Su Linxi lightly hopped off Zhong Tian’s lap.

“Alright, I forgive you now. Just make sure you’re not late then.”

“…”

“Hmm, why are you still sitting there? Don’t you want to leave yet?”

“It’s not that… I’m just… a little inconvenienced right now…”

Su Linxi paused, then a moment later, seeing Zhong Tian press his canvas bag firmly against his thighs, she understood, and a burst of laughter escaped her lips.

“Still laughing… and it’s all your fault.”

Still smiling, Su Linxi settled back into her chair, pulled her phone from her backpack, and opened the camera app, positioning it to capture both herself and Zhong Tian in the frame.

“Hey! Don’t take that!”

Click—

Despite Zhong Tian’s protests, Su Linxi captured a photo of the two of them.

In the photograph, one person had black hair and blue eyes, while the other possessed brown hair and green eyes.

“Haha,” she chuckled, “If you tell me not to take a picture and I actually listen, wouldn’t that be a bit humiliating for me?”

Still smiling, she rose from the chair and turned to look at Zhong Tian—

But he was no longer there.

Su Linxi froze. Her gaze darted frantically around the small classroom, only to confirm that she was utterly alone.

“Zhong Tian?”

A surge of panic coursed through Su Linxi as she rushed into the corridor. Bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun, a solitary figure stood at the far end of the teaching building’s hallway.

It was a woman, with white hair and dressed in black. Su Linxi couldn’t discern her features clearly; the figure seemed indistinct, both present and absent simultaneously.

Ah…

Su Linxi recognized her—no, rather, ‘It.’

‘It was a dream, after all,’ she realized.

The very instant she recognized her presence within a dream, the illusion began to unravel with terrifying speed, and the corridor before her swiftly dissolved into an abyss of darkness.

Slowly, she opened her eyes, rose from bed, and drew back the curtains.

As the morning sunlight streamed into the room, faint sounds of the range hood and the clatter of a spatula against a pot drifted in from beyond the door.

Su Linxi opened her phone’s camera, switching it to selfie mode.

Her reflection in the phone still showed her as a middle schooler, with brown hair and blue eyes.

‘…I’ll just sleep a little longer,’ she thought, her voice a soft murmur.

****

That day, Su Linxi did not awaken early as was her custom. Zhong Tian, for his part, made no attempt to disturb her; he simply prepared breakfast for her and Zhong Jing, ate his own simple meal, and then departed for school.

Zhong Tian arrived back in the classroom at almost the exact same time as he did every day.

With ten minutes remaining before morning reading commenced, he opened WeChat and sent a message to Bai Ruijin.

[Let’s meet by your classroom door during the long break.]

[We need to discuss recent matters.]

This “discussion of recent matters” referred to the third LJR strategy meeting.

[Okay!]

Seeing Bai Ruijin’s reply, Zhong Tian powered off his phone, returned it to his canvas bag, and prepared for morning reading.

****

At Taishen High School, within the Principal’s office.

The Principal, whose hairline receded far back on his head, was currently brewing tea, awaiting a guest.

He took an anticipatory sip, still harboring some apprehension, unsure if the tea would suit his guest’s palate.

This guest was not one to be treated lightly.

The new facilities and teaching buildings at Taishen High School had all been donated gratuitously by this individual. Although the Principal remained unaware of her precise identity, it was undeniable that a person who had repeatedly made substantial, unsolicited donations to the school—to put it dramatically—could be treated lightly by no one.

The agreed-upon time for her arrival was precisely seven-thirty.

She was known for her punctuality, always arriving exactly on schedule, without even a minute’s deviation.

And at this very moment, the clock indicated precisely seven-thirty.

Knock, knock—

The door to the Principal’s office was gently rapped.

“Principal, Ms. Yan has arrived.”

“Excellent, please, come in!”

Stepping through the door was a beautiful woman clad in a long black dress.

In stark contrast to her dark attire, she possessed waist-length white hair, each strand shimmering like snow, and her eyes were a striking silver-white. On this elegant woman, it seemed only the colors black and white existed.

The stark contrast of these two colors, combined with her already remarkable appearance, made her exceptionally captivating.

“Good morning, Principal.”

She took a seat before the Principal, her every movement and word betraying impeccable refinement.

“Good morning, Ms. Yan.” The Principal poured her a cup of tea. “Maofeng tea, I hope it suits your taste.”

“Thank you for your trouble.”

“To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit to the school today, Ms. Yan?”

“I was merely rather curious,” she said, offering a gentle smile, “to know if the students enjoyed the cultural festival proposal I put forth.”

“According to feedback from the teachers, all the students thoroughly enjoyed the cultural festival’s arrangements. It was, arguably, the most atmospherically successful cultural festival we’ve ever hosted.”

“That is good to hear.” She set down her teacup. “I intend to wander around the school on my own for a while now… I trust that will be acceptable, Principal?”

“Of course, that presents no issue whatsoever.”

“Very well.”

The woman, whose surname was Yan, rose and inclined her head.

“Then, if you’ll excuse me, I shall take my leave.”