Chapter 29#
Ten Days Left (2)#
Not bound incorrectly.
The System was a little confused and reconfirmed.
Indeed, Yu Lanyin was the villain because the protagonist was Song Baoxiao, a “high-mountain flower” who was poor, resilient, and had a difficult fate. The data showed that Yu Lanyin had done many things to wrong Song Baoxiao in the past.
Song Chen mentioning throwing away local specialties was just a minor incident. Yu Lanyin threw away the dried seafood brought by Song Baoxiao, which was homemade sun-dried shrimp by Song Baoxiao’s second aunt and Song Chen’s mother.
Besides that.
Yu Lanyin had been extravagant, lived like a young master, and acted like a little tyrant.
The young master and little tyrant had done many other things.
—For example, bossing Song Baoxiao around, forcing him to move into his house near the school, making him serve him like a follower, eating the food he was picky about and disliked, using his old computers and phones, and wearing clothes he bought in the wrong size.
—For example, controlling Song Baoxiao’s social circle, taking Song Baoxiao to gatherings, getting upset and showing displeasure when he saw Song Baoxiao talking to other scoundrels and rich playboys, and then kicking him out of the car to walk several kilometers home at night.
—For example, just to throw a tantrum, he abandoned Song Baoxiao at his grandfather’s funeral and turned around to take a taxi to the airport.
…For example, both graduated one after another.
Song Baoxiao continued his studies, and Yu Lanyin entered the family business.
When Song Baoxiao most needed support and his studies were most demanding, Yu Lanyin suddenly cut off his funding without a word.
For example, Song Baoxiao, for money, had to find part-time jobs, working late at night in clubs.
Yu Lanyin leaned back in the smoke-filled sofa, his expression gloomy, watching Song Baoxiao being humiliated, forced to grit his teeth, his face flushed, yet he just walked past as if he didn’t know him…
In the past, Yu Lanyin had often stabbed Song Baoxiao in the heart.
And now, Yu Lanyin’s “cremation ground” was over, and it was almost time for the final assessment period of “bitterness turning into sweetness.”
Song Baoxiao was about to soften, but “the wounds were too deep, and he was saying one thing but meaning another.”
The System looked at the scene before it, trying to understand this complex emotion unique to humans.
It wasn’t very successful.
It only knew that Yu Lanyin was struggling even to sit like this: “Shall we go back to the shop?”
Yu Lanyin looked up, his cat-like eyes slightly widened, beautiful, captivatingly beautiful. In the clear sunlight, even the fine downy hairs on his ears were visible.
The System hastily averted its gaze.
“You won’t be punished,” the System explained.
Although the previous system still had residual modules, red lights, green lights, and simulated warnings, they would no longer have any effect.
Light flickered in Yu Lanyin’s eyes.
Yu Lanyin asked curiously, “Really?”
He seemed to only have positive emotions, always lighthearted and relaxed. Even when his expression was blank, the corners of his mouth would slightly turn up, as if he had completely severed ties with the past.
That gloomy, pale Young Master Yu, the little tyrant, who used to curl up with his knees to his chest on a smoke-filled sofa in a club room, making several handsome boys sing all day, motionless, seemed to have died long ago, silently, leaving no trace.
Died without a trace.
Yu Lanyin’s left hand had already reached for the disposable chopsticks.
He was very agile with one hand, biting the chopsticks to separate them, his eyes bright with anticipation as he stared at the System.
System: “…”
The System nodded.
Just as it was about to say something else, Yu Lanyin had already stuffed a BBQ pork bun into his mouth.
A whole one, his fair cheeks puffed out, he chewed and choked, clutching the chopsticks and asking the System for soy milk.
Yu Lanyin was truly hungry.
Running a breakfast shop meant getting up at two or three in the morning to get busy. He was alone, with no help, and would just make do with a boiled egg. When he was dizzy from being busy, he would forget hunger, forget all needs, and by the time he remembered, his stomach would be pressed against his back.
His stomach was burning, cold sweat beaded on his forehead, and his vision blurred.
He was starving.
The System hesitated, then realized the villain was really about to choke to death, and quickly went to pour him soy milk.
Yu Lanyin mumbled indistinctly, “Add sugar!”
The System fumbled and scooped three large spoonfuls of sugar.
Yu Lanyin didn’t complain. He swallowed the entire BBQ pork bun with the sickeningly sweet cold soy milk, solving the immediate problem of low blood sugar. He patted his chest and picked up another one.
He resumed his elegant eating posture, but his eating speed was still astonishing. He quickly finished two small ones.
The System stood by, refilling his soy milk.
…
Throughout the entire process, Song Chen was completely intimidated by the 1.9-meter tall figure and dared not approach. Song Baoxiao, standing not far away, grew increasingly grim.
Until Song Baoxiao couldn’t help but walk over: “Yu Lanyin.”
Yu Lanyin had just taken a sip of soy milk from the System’s bowl, his left hand holding chopsticks, clutching the fourth BBQ pork bun, his cheeks still puffed out, and he looked up.
The System couldn’t bear to watch and pulled a tissue to wipe his mouth.
Yu Lanyin leaned forward obediently to cooperate.
“What’s the point of you acting like this?” Song Baoxiao’s tone was laced with anger. “Deliberately eating like this, ruining your body, putting on a show for me?”
“And you even brought this person here. Where did you hire him from? Just to spite me? Do you have enough money to squander like this?”
“I thought you had changed, and I even planned to… You’re really still the same as before.”
Song Baoxiao’s expression was disappointed, and he looked at him coldly: “They were right after all.”
“They” referred to Song Baoxiao’s friends—the protagonist himself had this configuration. This “high-mountain flower” protagonist also had a bit of a charismatic aura, surrounded by a group of devoted friends who genuinely cared for him.
There were college and research institute classmates and close friends.
There were rich second-generation childhood friends who used to play well with Yu Lanyin but later fell out.
And there were several powerful and influential benefactors who admired him.
All these people empathized with Song Baoxiao’s past experiences, understanding the shame, embarrassment, pain, and confusion, so they all harbored hostility towards Yu Lanyin, the culprit.
Song Baoxiao’s phone still had more than one group message: [Baoxiao, don’t be like before this time. Don’t forgive Yu just because he puts on a pitiful act! Haven’t you been deceived enough in the past?]
[No, why should you be soft-hearted just because he’s nice to you?]
[Isn’t it natural to put in effort when in a relationship?]
[He should have been good to you!]
[Exactly! Shouldn’t he have cared for you, taken care of you, and protected you? A car accident means true love? I say you really don’t need to dwell on it. Wasn’t it his own choice to rush over then?]
[What do you owe him? Didn’t he just give it all willingly? Besides, are the harms he caused you just wiped away? When you were so miserable, when you truly needed help and support, what was he doing??]
[His misfortune is what he deserves. Why didn’t he suffer more?]
[The more trouble, the better. You have to make him empathize. Baoxiao, someone like Yu Lanyin, who looks down on everyone, will only change when he truly experiences what you did and knows pain.]
[You should be patient and let him hurt more. When the pain is severe, when he’s almost dead from it, then he’ll learn his lesson…]
The System was anthropomorphic, but essentially still a program. It could easily infiltrate Song Baoxiao’s phone and see these messages.
The System couldn’t help but frown.
There were even many sarcastic remarks and extreme curses against Yu Lanyin in the group chat.
Although Song Baoxiao did not echo these messages, he also did not reply or refute them.
Yu Lanyin, unable to sit steadily on his own, leaned against the System and very skillfully explained to the new System: “Because these people are his friends, and they mean well for him, he can’t reject them. Besides, what they say isn’t entirely unreasonable.”
The System was startled: “You can see?”
“Of course,” Yu Lanyin took another bite of the BBQ pork bun, chewing with relish, then leaned over to drink soy milk from the System’s bowl. “This helps me to completely reform.”
Yu Lanyin demonstrated: “My reform score is 98 points.”
The System’s frown, however, deepened.
Yu Lanyin’s reform score was indeed 98 points. He was truly intelligent. Despite not studying diligently, he and Song Baoxiao both got into the top university. Not to mention, he was two years younger than Song Baoxiao but only one year behind him.
But that was the previous system’s scope of work. The System was here to redeem the villain, and Yu Lanyin’s redemption value… the System couldn’t find it.
There was no such module.
Yu Lanyin seemed to have no problems at all.
The reform seemed to be completely successful. Yu Lanyin was diligent and down-to-earth, treated people amiably and kindly, and was polite. He hardly ever smiled or spoke, especially being considerate and gentle towards Song Baoxiao.
Even when Song Baoxiao spoke harshly to his face, Yu Lanyin no longer reacted like he used to, flying into a rage and kicking people out.
After whispering with the System, Yu Lanyin turned to Song Baoxiao to explain.
“I have enough money,” Yu Lanyin’s voice was light and cheerful. “I’m very capable. The breakfast shop made a lot of money.”
Yu Lanyin held half a BBQ pork bun: “I’m hungry.”
Song Baoxiao’s anger was like swinging at a ball of cotton that offered no resistance.
He wasn’t completely unconcerned about Yu Lanyin; otherwise, he wouldn’t have come to deliver medicine. Being closer, he saw the cold sweat on Yu Lanyin’s forehead and nose, frowned, and still pulled out a tissue to hand over.
Yu Lanyin did not raise his right hand to take it.
Song Baoxiao was silent for a long while, then still irritably wiped him, throwing the soaked tissue on the table: “Don’t do this again.”
“Yu Lanyin,” Song Baoxiao said, “You’ve changed. I can still bear to see you twice a week. If you go back to being the same as before, there’s no chance for us anymore.”
“…”
The System still couldn’t help but ask Yu Lanyin: “Is it normal that I want to punch the protagonist?”
“It’s perfectly normal. You’re just charmed by my face,” Yu Lanyin said with experience, looking up and whispering, “After some reform, it won’t be like this.”
Yu Lanyin taught it: “Just silently repeat: Because Yu Lanyin is guilty, Yu Lanyin deserves to die, Yu Lanyin is an unforgivable scoundrel, so he deserves all the scolding.”
The System didn’t want to repeat this at all. What kind of redemption system would repeat this: “Is there no other way?”
“No,” Yu Lanyin sighed. “Just think positively. After repeating it a few times, you can go play games. Do you know how to play ‘It Takes Two’? It’s so much fun.”
That being said, Yu Lanyin hadn’t played it before. This game required two people to cooperate.
The System had no choice but to randomly repeat it a few times: “Play now?”
Yu Lanyin nodded, his eyes bright.
The System took an empty trash can, swept the tissues into it, cleaned up the oil stains and spilled chicken soup on the ground, and wrapped the broken porcelain pieces in toilet paper.
Yu Lanyin’s right hand and right leg were unresponsive. Currently, this would occur when he was overly fatigued, but soon his condition would rapidly worsen, eventually leaving him completely unable to leave his wheelchair.
The medicines Song Baoxiao sent were completely useless.
The System picked up Yu Lanyin, not looking at the protagonist’s reaction. Yu Lanyin, in any case, seemed very happy—he hadn’t been picked up like this in a long time. The last time was when he was a child, a precious young master pampered by his whole family, lifted onto his grandfather’s shoulders.
“You’re very strong,” Yu Lanyin said, touching. “Is the custom effect that good?”
The effect was indeed good, but to some extent, Yu Lanyin’s slender build also made him easy to carry.
Perhaps it was the curse of being too intelligent, or perhaps the villain’s curse, but Yu Lanyin had been sickly since childhood. His family had tried everything from seeking doctors to praying to Buddha, and in desperation, even invited shamans.
Yu Lanyin was sick for half the year, almost always living in the hospital as a child. His family’s protectiveness towards him was excessive, and he always had private tutors for his studies, so much so that until he went to college, Yu Lanyin had never truly met anyone from the outside world.
So, when he arrived at school, Yu Lanyin was immediately attracted to Song Baoxiao, who was two years older and one year ahead of him.
Song Baoxiao came from a very poor background but was resilient and self-reliant. At the time, he was the vice president of the student council and the head of the work-study department. Yu Lanyin, hiding it from his family, bravely participated in military training, but collapsed on the first day. It was Song Baoxiao who carried him to the school infirmary and bought him water.
The two became entangled like that.
Eight years passed in a flash.
Yu Lanyin focused intently on touching his custom-made muscles.
The System held him by the knee with one hand, grasping the wandering hand: “I am a support system.”
It was here to promote a happy family ending, assisting the villain in being redeemed by this world.
Not to sacrifice itself and have a happy family with the villain.
Yu Lanyin was a little regretful, sighing softly, and had to withdraw his hand.
In his first twenty-two years, he had been meticulously cared for. Even after three years of being battered by wind and rain, his foundation remained. The skin, so thin that veins were visible, was very fair, and his ears were beautiful and soft.
The System came to its senses, averted its gaze, and no longer looked at the small red mole on his earlobe.
Yu Lanyin seemed to have no problems.
He even seemed not to need redemption.
Yu Lanyin lived well, arranged his life well, orderly and meticulously. Occasionally, he had to complete tasks of atoning to Song Baoxiao, but it didn’t significantly affect his normal life—for example, now, he skillfully maneuvered his wheelchair with one hand, busy flipping through game discs and looking for controllers.
Yu Lanyin was now amiable, with an excellent personality, humming a song softly, seemingly very happy.
No one would have thought that in ten days, he would fall to his death in the snowy mountains. When his body was found, his face and chest were cut, and the swallowed porcelain shards had lacerated his throat and esophagus.
It was suicide.