"You're really bad," Si said.
An Xiaowei snorted lightly—she was never a good girl to begin with.
Mission accomplished, An Xiaowei flopped onto the soft bed with satisfaction. She had to admit, a girl’s bed was truly cozy, bouncy and all—absolutely lovable.
Yawning, she snuggled under the covers contentedly.
But the next morning, An Xiaowei was stunned.
She never expected her bed would turn into a crime scene.
The bedsheets at home were all light-colored, and it was her first time dealing with "that time of the month." Aunt Flow had arrived with a vengeance, leaving a bloody mess when she lifted the covers. Okay, maybe not that dramatic, but it was definitely eye-catching.
What now?
Did she have to change the sheets every single day from now on?
"No need. Just get some period pads and lay them under you," Si said with a yawn, looking like she’d just woken up.
An Xiaowei was puzzled—since when did systems need sleep?
"And how do I wash this?" An Xiaowei had washed sheets before, but at most, they were just damp or slightly stained. That was easy. But this?
Just remove the first three words of that thought.
"Scrub it by hand."
An Xiaowei: "..."
Great.
Girl’s Diary: Today marks who-knows-how-many-days of being a girl. Second day of my period, and I never realized bedsheets would take such a hit. SOS.
An Xiaowei was officially in her feels.
Even while supervising Li Jiaojiao’s progress, she wore a bitter expression—her hands hurt from scrubbing. Back when she wasted her "future generations," it wasn’t even this troublesome.
Seriously, how did those mystery novels make murder scenes on beds seem plausible? Do they know how hard it is to wash bloodstains?
Ugh.
Yan Chen’s university wasn’t too far from An Wan’s place—otherwise, how would they hook up later? Oh wait, no, meet up at hotels.
So An Xiaowei rode her bike there, parked it at the school gate, and thanks to her protagonist GPS, finding Yan Chen was a breeze.
When she arrived, Li Jiaojiao was already there, standing beside Yan Chen with tears streaming down her face.
Under An Xiaowei’s expert breakup coaching, Li Jiaojiao’s performance was Oscar-worthy—pitiful, delicate, and utterly heart-wrenching. Even Yan Chen seemed moved.
"Um, Jiaojiao..."
"I know, I know you like someone else. I just... I envy her. But I love you so much. I can’t live without you."
An Xiaowei nearly choked hearing that.
Wasn’t this acting a bit too much?
Li Jiaojiao then hugged Yan Chen, tears falling like rain, her restraint making any man’s heart ache.
Plus, she was undeniably pretty.
After a long pause, Li Jiaojiao wiped her tears and pushed Yan Chen away.
"I’m sorry. I lost control. I won’t bother you again. I... I don’t like you anymore at all." She nearly shouted the last part, but her delivery was flawless.
Heartbroken—just as her mentor had taught her.
Without waiting for Yan Chen to respond, Li Jiaojiao turned and walked away, glancing back just once.
That one glance was pure agony—her eyes red-rimmed, her expression shattered.
For some reason, Yan Chen’s chest tightened. He still liked Li Jiaojiao.
But... that beachfront villa was too tempting.
As he shook his head, his friend nudged him.
"That online fling of yours? Doesn’t hold a candle to Li Jiaojiao. Look how much she loves you—even crying like that, she still brought you food. That’s real feelings."
Outside opinions always sway people.
Yan Chen’s heart skipped a beat. Picking up the dropped lunchbox, he found a note inside:
"New day, new happiness! Don’t be sad~ (＾▽＾)"
His expression darkened. An Xiaowei checked the mission progress—50% complete. Not bad. Even the blinding protagonist halo above Yan Chen’s head seemed less irritating now.
In a good mood, An Xiaowei—mask and glasses hiding her identity—borrowed a meal card and treated herself to breakfast.
Meanwhile, Li Jiaojiao nervously texted her mentor:
"Master, will this really work?"
She never knew her acting skills were this good. It was almost ridiculous.
"Absolutely. This year’s Oscar goes to you." An Xiaowei was impressed—Li Jiaojiao wasn’t as clueless as those novel heroines.
Though her guidance probably helped.
"Then, Master, should I avoid him now?"
No need. Just post a sad social media update, and let Yan Chen's friends do the rest.
An Xiaowei’s plan was flawless.
If Li Jiaojiao was truly teachable, An Xiaowei hoped she’d break free from the male lead’s charm—no more simp behavior.
But this couldn’t be rushed. If she said it outright, Li Jiaojiao might suspect her of liking Yan Chen.
Never underestimate a side character’s logic. It’s always wild.
The real headache was Lin Zixuan—he couldn’t just waltz onto a film set.
As An Xiaowei pondered her next move, a guy sat across from her. The moment she looked up, he blushed.
"Uh, junior, can I get your number?"
An Xiaowei: ???
Was she getting hit on?
She never thought a guy would ask for her contact. Then again, she’d barely left the house since transmigrating into this novel.
"I... I think you’re really pretty." His face turned redder.
"No way." An Xiaowei refused outright.
The guy froze. Cute looks, cute rejection—what was this sorcery?
"Come on, just as friends! I’m not a creep."
"Bull. Guys like you are quick to drop their pants." She rolled her eyes.
Dream on. She had enough self-love to spare.
The guy was speechless. He never expected such bluntness. Before he could reply, An Xiaowei grabbed her tray and left.
With her mask off, she finally understood—this body was dangerously attractive.
Pale, delicate, with dewy eyes that made guys want to see her cry.
The scariest part? Even girls were staring.
What the hell?
Had the world lost all shame?