Kill That Transmigrator Woman - Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Companionship (6)

When it came time to eat, Cui Wanwan sat across from Wei Qingyu, expressionlessly eating the plain white rice in front of her.

“Wanwan, why aren’t you eating the dishes? Is it that the cook here doesn’t suit your taste?” While speaking, Ling Xun picked up some food and placed it into Cui Wanwan’s bowl.

“Is Miss Wei planning to rest here for the night?” Cui Wanwan set down her chopsticks, her gaze fixed straight on Wei Qingyu.

“Is that… okay?” Wei Qingyu seemed startled, her pure, innocent eyes filled with the timid unease of a frightened deer. She was already slimmer than most girls her age, and with that kind of expression, that kind of innocence, anyone who saw it would soften a little.

Let alone someone like Ling Xun, who was as straightforward as a rock.

“Of course—” Ling Xun had just opened his mouth when he was cut off by Cui Wanwan.

“Does Miss Wei not have a home? A thirteen-year-old girl who doesn’t go home—won’t her family worry?” Cui Wanwan smiled faintly, but her tone was laced with coldness.

From the moment she spoke, Wei Qingyu’s eyes began to redden. Not long after, her eyes were rimmed with tears, and if one looked closely, there was even a slight shimmer of moisture.

“Wanwan.” Ling Xun cleared his throat softly.

“Miss Wei’s family was all killed by the local governor. She’s now homeless. She came to find me today to repay a kindness. Since we roam the martial world, helping people and saving lives, making an extra friend is normal.” After speaking, Ling Xun cautiously glanced at Cui Wanwan’s expression.

He wasn’t an idiot. Of course he could see the two didn’t get along.

On one side was a pitiful, unfortunate girl. On the other, his little childhood sweetheart whom he cherished. Emotionally or logically, it wasn’t right to side with either unfairly.

“Oh.” Cui Wanwan stood up and turned to leave.

“Wanwan!”

“I’m full.”

Ling Xun also put down his bowl and chopsticks and stood up. At that moment, a soft, pale, boneless hand reached for his wrist.

The young man looked down in confusion. “Miss Wei?”

“Brother Ling, I’m sorry… Is Miss Cui angry?”

“You eat first. I’ll go check on her.” After saying that, Ling Xun raised his hand to brush off the white jade-like hand on his wrist and left without looking back to go after Cui Wanwan.

Left behind, Wei Qingyu bit down so hard on her silver-white teeth she nearly shattered them, clenching her fists in hatred.

“Why?! System, what exactly did this Cui Wanwan feed the second male lead to make him so spellbound? She’s already being completely unreasonable and throwing random tantrums—why is he still indulging her?!”

Suddenly, she thought of something and asked again, “Don’t tell me you didn’t completely take away Cui Wanwan’s protagonist luck?”

The system immediately denied it.
[Please rest assured, dear Host. The current Cui Wanwan is no longer the female lead. You only need to remember that from the moment you arrived, you became the female lead of this world, while Cui Wanwan turned into the vicious second female lead. Her protagonist halo has already been completely absorbed by me—absolutely nothing remains.]

[The strategy has only just begun. Male supporting character Ling Xun was originally Cui Wanwan’s childhood sweetheart, and among the target characters in this world, he is the most difficult to capture. But because he’s young, pure, and straightforward, in a certain sense, he’s also the easiest to win over.]

[Please keep up the good work, dear Host! This system is always by your side.]

Only after hearing this did Wei Qingyu feel a little better.

She pouted and sneered, “That’s right. Cui Wanwan is a product of the feudal era—how could she possibly outmatch me, a modern woman of the 21st century?”

———

“Wanwan! Wanwan, wait for me!”

With his long legs, Ling Xun ran fast and quickly caught up to the slowly walking Cui Wanwan.

Cui Wanwan reached out and caught a falling peach blossom midair, her face expressionless as she gazed at the cold moon hanging in the sky.

The moonlight was clear and chill. The girl stood there in a blazing red dress, radiant and striking, forming a sharp contrast that seemed to dissolve the moonlit chill around her.

“Look,” Cui Wanwan pointed toward two birds perched on a nearby branch.

The young man followed the direction of her finger. Then he heard her speak, cool and detached.
“Do you think… they’ll stay like that forever?”

“Huh?” The boy was momentarily confused. “Wanwan, what are you saying?”

Cui Wanwan smiled and shook her head. “Nothing.”

“Are you angry?” Ling Xun pressed his lips together, hesitated for a moment, and finally asked, “Miss Wei said you didn’t like her… Is that true?”

A breeze stirred, lifting the hem of her fiery red dress like a blooming lotus—so stunning it took one’s breath away.

Cui Wanwan was already incredibly beautiful. In that moment, the sight dazed Ling Xun; he stood there blankly, eyes fixed on her, unable to move.

“Yes,” Cui Wanwan admitted openly, not seeing the need to lie to Ling Xun.
“I don’t want to travel the jianghu with her. If I’m here, she’s not. If she’s here, I’m not.”

The unspoken meaning was clear: You decide.

Ling Xun didn’t hesitate for even a second before replying,
“Don’t worry. It was you and me when we set off—it’ll still be just you and me when we return.”

Cui Wanwan said nothing.

Time would prove everything.

Words alone meant nothing.

Ling Xun acted quickly—by nightfall, Wei Qingyu had not succeeded in staying over as she had hoped.

Surprisingly, Wei Qingyu didn’t pester them. She merely cast a vicious glare at Cui Wanwan’s back from an angle Ling Xun couldn’t see.

The next day, before dawn had even broken, Cui Wanwan and Ling Xun set out early.

By morning, Wei Qingyu arrived with a basket of exquisite pastries she had exchanged for with her system points—only to find the place empty. She was completely stunned.

“System, get out here! Where’s Ling Xun? Where did he go?!”

[Apologies. This system has not yet been upgraded. Current permissions are insufficient to fully track character movements.]

“Then upgrade!” Wei Qingyu panicked, gripping the basket of delicate pastries tightly.

[Insufficient points. Unable to upgrade. Please accumulate more task points. Upgrading requires points.]
The system remained rigid and mechanical, nearly driving Wei Qingyu mad with frustration.

She was now trapped in a vicious cycle: the system couldn’t detect the movements of the male or female leads without a certain upgrade level. Upgrading required points. Getting points meant completing tasks. But the first step to completing tasks was making contact with the male lead, supporting male characters, or Cui Wanwan. The problem was—she didn’t know where they went, and couldn’t find them.

Wei Qingyu was both angry and miserable.

[However, Host, please rest assured. This system can provide a general direction.]

Wei Qingyu instantly perked up, straightening her back.
“Tell me.”

[Detected: Ling Xun and Cui Wanwan are currently in the southeast direction,] the system’s mechanical voice replied.

Wei Qingyu: “……”

In ancient times, there was no GPS. That kind of direction was practically useless.

—
Inside the carriage, Cui Wanwan was organizing a stack of written scrolls.

“These are poems you wrote, Wanwan?” Ling Xun leaned over, looking surprised.

Because written on the scrolls were verses that could truly be considered literary masterpieces. If made public, his little childhood sweetheart would surely become renowned far and wide—even the most seasoned scholars and literary masters would be moved to admiration and praise such brilliance.

The Cui family was a scholarly household with centuries of literary heritage. The second young lady of the Cui family was accomplished in all the arts—music, chess, calligraphy, and painting.

Ling Xun knew she was talented, but he hadn’t imagined her literary prowess would reach such awe-inspiring heights.

Cui Wanwan shot him a glare. “Look carefully—does this really seem like something I’d write?”

“Have you not seen? The Yellow River’s waters come from heaven,
Rushing to the sea, never to return.
Have you not seen? In high halls, the bright mirror grieves over white hair,
In the morning like black silk, by night like snow.”

“These aren’t the kind of insights or sentiments a young girl like me could possibly have. Neither age nor experience would allow for such writing. And this one here—
‘Last night again, the east wind at the small tower.
I cannot bear to look back at my old country in the moonlight.’”

“This is still the first time I’ve ever left the capital where I grew up with you, how could I possibly have a ‘homeland too painful to recall’?

‘The northern country’s scenery—
A thousand miles of ice,
Ten thousand miles of snow.
Looking inside and outside the Great Wall,
Nothing but vastness remains.’

Sure, the north is covered in snow year-round, but what even is the Great Wall?”

“If you didn’t write it, then which gentleman did?” Ling Xun took the scroll she handed him and carefully flipped through it.

Cui Wanwan concealed the ripple of emotion in her eyes.
“You must read it closely. This is a folk manuscript from hundreds of years ago—a one-of-a-kind copy. I happened to come across it among the common people in the past.”

These were the works Wei Qingyu had written in her previous life, the very ones that earned her the title of “Northern Realm’s First Talented Woman.”

But Cui Wanwan knew these weren’t her original works. Because in her past life, she had once accidentally overheard Wei Qingyu muttering to herself in an empty corner.
“Our ancestors’ stuff is really useful. Luckily I’ve got you, system—otherwise, there’s no way I could memorize all these ancient poems in such a short time.”

Stealing someone else’s literary work, for Cui Wanwan, that was a disgraceful act.

She wasn’t sure when Wei Qingyu would repeat the same old trick, but one thing she was certain of:

As a transmigrator, Wei Qingyu would never give up the chance to pass off others’ writings as her own to craft the image of a literary prodigy.

“A one-of-a-kind copy, huh?” Ling Xun sounded a little regretful.
“Wouldn’t it be a pity to hide such brilliance in the dark? Clearly, this is something that could amaze scholars and poets alike.”

Cui Wanwan smiled.
“Then why not make sure it doesn’t go to waste?”

Ling Xun caught on and relaxed his furrowed brow.
“You’re right, Wanwan. I’ll go find someone to have it printed and circulated.”

“Hey, don’t print too many at once. Since it’s a rare original, we should only make a few copies, so people value it.” Cui Wanwan handed over the remaining scrolls to Ling Xun, then reminded him,
“After all, everything in this world becomes more valuable when it’s rare.
And also, make sure to clearly label that this was written several hundred years ago.”