She had an ordinary night’s rest.
As long as she wasn’t caught up in her novel’s plot, Zhuang Chi felt that St. Blaisedon was actually quite conventional, like a normal university. The banter among classmates in the group chat seemed natural and friendly, and the counselor’s announcements on various matters were rigorous and precise. There was nothing unreliable about it, except—
“This uniform…” Her roommate, Lu Man, who had finished changing, was looking in the mirror beside her. After a moment of contemplation, she gave a fair assessment, “It’s like cosplay.”
…Except for these parts that revealed her novel’s settings, which were utterly ridiculous.
Zhuang Chi, who had also received her uniform, silently examined it. A necktie, a blouse, a suit jacket, a plaid skirt—it was a truly standard set of “the kind of noble school uniform a minor who has watched too much Japanese anime would imagine.”
They were in university, yet they still had to wear uniforms… Zhuang Chi looked sorrowfully at her own unopened uniform set and put up a weak struggle, “…Do we really have to wear this every day? Like in high school?”
“It’s not that strict.” Lu Man shrugged. “It’s usually quite casual, but we have to wear them for major events, like today’s opening ceremony. We just have to be good and change into them for now.”
…Unexpectedly, there was room for negotiation. That was fine, much better than having to wear it all day long. Zhuang Chi resignedly went to change, thinking as she did so that such a humane rule was definitely not something she had come up with. She knew that back then, she had only written a setting like “St. Blaisedon has uniforms.” The fact that it had now become “uniforms must only be worn for major events” made her feel like she could sense a bit of this world’s corrective force, successfully making her setting seem less unreasonable.
If this world had a god, it must be a very arduous job. This thought made Zhuang Chi’s feelings complicated. First, she had to say thank you for improving her life experience while studying here. Second, she had to say sorry for writing such a rash setting. And finally, she had to ask what on earth it wanted by bringing her into this world. Could it be seeking revenge on her for creating all this extra work? If so, this god was far too petty!
As for why she had transmigrated into her own novel, Zhuang Chi still had no clue. Her current identity didn’t exist in the original novel. She had arrived when she was around ten years old, and in the past eight years, there had been no signs that this was her novel. Following this logic, if she hadn’t happened to get into St. Blaisedon (if it had used this name during admissions, she wouldn’t be here), she might have had the chance to live an ordinary life in this world, completely unaware.
…Even if it was fate that Zhuang Chi would definitely get into this university, what exactly did it want her to do? There was no role to play, no system to give her quests. She even struggled to recall the plot of the novel she had written. She felt completely lost, as if she had been thrown into an open-world RPG with a faulty “predict the future” starting skill and no beginner’s guide.
There were too many things she didn’t understand. As Zhuang Chi mulled over these thoughts, she distractedly adjusted her necktie in the mirror. She had changed the bandage on her wrist herself this morning; it wasn’t as neat as the doctor’s work, and her eyes were easily drawn to it.
…For example, this, Zhuang Chi thought. Yesterday, she had pretty much interfered and changed the plot’s development, right? Was that really okay? Would it affect the world’s operation?
Although things were calm for now, and she hadn’t received any mysterious punishment for “doing something unnecessary,” Zhuang Chi still felt a little uneasy, worried about causing a butterfly effect or facing repercussions later.
…In any case, if possible, Zhuang Chi silently pressed her lips together, wanting to stay far away from the plots she had written.
Full of clichés, riddled with plot holes, and utterly unreasonable—experiencing such plots multiple times would be mentally and physically exhausting. But avoiding the plot didn’t seem as simple as it sounded… Sigh, she could only take it one step at a time. Zhuang Chi casually straightened her necktie, considering herself ready. Looking at her reflection, at the pitiful, slightly drooping corners of her eyes, she couldn’t help but see a hint of sorrow.
“Oh, you’re changed?” Lu Man was waiting for her, playing on her phone at her desk. Seeing her come out, she stood up. “…Why do you look so down? Do you dislike this uniform that much?”
“…That’s not it.”
To be fair, the uniform was decent enough to wear, at least not to the point of being ugly. Although it was a bit of a challenge to her sense of shame, everyone was wearing it together, so no one could complain about anyone else. Zhuang Chi picked up her jacket and tilted her head toward the door. “Shall we head over now?”
“Yeah, it’s about time.” Lu Man yawned listlessly and gave a friendly reminder, “If your phone battery is low, you should bring a power bank. Who knows how long we’ll have to listen to speeches at the opening ceremony.”
…Alright, it seemed that even St. Blaisedon couldn’t escape the fate of having to listen to long speeches at the opening ceremony.
In any case, the two of them left the room, both lacking in spirit. They became even unhappier upon arriving at the venue to find that the seats for their department were arranged in the very front rows of the auditorium.
“We clearly arrived early, shouldn’t seats be first-come, first-served? Damn it,” Lu Man grumbled resentfully, slumped in her seat. But since the teachers were sitting in the row ahead, she could only mutter at a volume only the two of them could hear. After a long while without a response from Zhuang Chi, she turned her head in confusion and was startled by her roommate, who had turned pale and looked like she wanted to shrink into a ball. “Whoa, what’s wrong with you? Does not being able to sit in the back make you this upset?”
She quickly followed up with things like, “Why don’t we go find a teacher and ask to switch seats?” sounding quite eager. It was hard to tell whether she was more concerned for Zhuang Chi or just wanted to seize the opportunity to fulfill her own wish. Zhuang Chi had no time to ponder such things. She just shook her head weakly and said in a pained voice, “…This place… it’s like some kind of grand Baroque cathedral…!”
…What kind of university builds an auditorium like this! It’s far too grand! Zhuang Chi had sensed something was off before she even entered, but upon stepping inside, she was still struck speechless by the imposing atmosphere. After sitting down, she couldn’t help but start trembling. Lu Man clearly didn’t understand her feelings, blinking blankly. “…Is that so? I’ve never been to a church… Is this bad? You don’t like this style? Or you don’t like churches?”
That’s not the problem, Lu Man! It’s not like she, Zhuang Chi, was some kind of demon who would dislike churches for no reason. It was because this place was overly ornate, looking exactly like the kind of place where a dramatic plot event would occur…!
Perhaps it was because the natives of the novel world weren’t amazed by it, but it seemed Zhuang Chi was the only one around having an existential crisis over such a university auditorium. Zhuang Chi tilted her head back with a sorrowful frown. Damn it, the dome was so high, and she could even see a beautiful canopy…
Regardless, the impact was so strong that even though Zhuang Chi couldn’t recall any plot points related to the opening ceremony, she remained on high alert, like a police dog with its ears pricked up, facing a great enemy. Beside her, Lu Man was already drowsy from listening and frequently cast confused glances at her, the unspoken message being something like, “Do you really need to listen that intently?”
Of course, Zhuang Chi wasn’t actually listening intently to the speeches at all, but rather to the surrounding sounds. It sounded absurd, but she was seriously trying to recall if she had ever written a bizarre plot where Ling Jing’s hawk would crash through the auditorium’s glass and fly in to do something—honestly, the more she thought about it, the more it seemed like something her younger self would have been perfectly capable of writing.
“—Next, we invite the new student representative to speak.”
Just as the speculations in her mind were intensifying, she heard a ripple of faint murmurs spread through the crowd. Zhuang Chi tensed, subconsciously looking up at the stage, and her gaze met a pair of clear eyes.
“Hello, everyone.”
The person on stage adjusted the microphone. Though her mouth said, “Hello, everyone,” her beautiful eyes were fixed only on Zhuang Chi. “…I am the new student representative, Gu Ximian.”
Gu Ximian’s gentle voice was slightly distorted after being amplified by the microphone, but Zhuang Chi, sitting in the second row, still shivered as if she had heard her speaking right next to her ear. A faint tickle spread from her ear to the nape of her neck.
…She had thought it was fine before, but now it seemed sitting in the front row was definitely not a good thing! Zhuang Chi immediately ducked her head, feeling guilty. She wasn’t mentally prepared to meet Gu Ximian again… To be clear, she was still at a complete loss as to how to explain recognizing Gu Ximian at their first meeting. Now, just making eye contact made her want to run away—was this world being too harsh on her? The probability of her running into Gu Ximian seemed strangely high, didn’t it?
Lu Man also widened her eyes for once, letting out a small sigh of admiration just like the students whispering around them. Even with the teacher right there, she risked it and lowered her voice to say to Zhuang Chi, “She’s so beautiful.”
Most of the students in the audience were also talking about this. If yesterday’s rumors weren’t enough for people to connect Gu Ximian’s name to her face, then today she had made a complete debut in front of the entire freshman class. Her beauty, which didn’t pale even in such a magnificent and exquisite setting, would naturally spark heated discussion. She would probably become famous throughout the entire school very soon.
Zhuang Chi could already hear people behind her talking about the incident at the school gate yesterday. They were likely eyewitnesses. She listened for a moment, and her heart stirred faintly.
…If, and she meant if, Zhuang Chi thought vaguely, if yesterday had followed the original plot, then the topic of conversation in the audience right now… would probably have taken on a teasing tone because they’d be talking about Gu Ximian’s pheromones.
These were all small details her younger self wouldn’t have noticed when writing the story. Now, being in the midst of it, her feelings were inevitably complicated, mixed with a sense of relief that she had blocked that hawk yesterday. And she had to admit, the uniform’s suit jacket was unexpectedly helpful at a time like this, as it could hide the bandage on her wrist. Otherwise, everyone would most likely have noticed that she was the second new student in the story, besides Gu Ximian.
That’s great. It’s good if even one less person knows. She didn’t want to become some famous person. While thinking about these things, Zhuang Chi listened to Gu Ximian’s speech. The script was rather formulaic, but being the new student representative already showed how formidable Gu Ximian was. After all, the representative was chosen from the new students with the highest college entrance exam scores. Despite St. Blaisedon’s unreliable name, its admission score was quite high. Truly befitting of a female protagonist who was nearly perfect in every aspect.
…The female protagonist keeps looking this way, Zhuang Chi thought. I’ll just… I’ll just pretend I haven’t noticed.
But unfortunately, it was so obvious that even Lu Man beside her noticed. She sat up a little straighter, looking somewhat uncomfortable, and leaned toward Zhuang Chi, squeezing the words out through her teeth: “…Is this new student representative looking this way the whole time? Don’t tell me she can clearly see me playing on my phone from the stage?”
“…” Zhuang Chi was at a loss for words for a moment, then nodded sincerely. “…That’s a possibility.”
Her words gave Lu Man quite a scare. She quickly stuffed her phone back into her pocket, muttering, “Then didn’t all the leaders and teachers who spoke earlier see everything?” Zhuang Chi remained silent, subtly averting her gaze.
With nothing else to do now that she wasn’t on her phone, Lu Man leaned over to chat again after a short period of silence. “The new student representative is wearing a choker. It looks pretty heavy. That must be uncomfortable, right?”
Zhuang Chi froze, but ultimately looked toward Gu Ximian. Their eyes met just as Gu Ximian finished a sentence. Still looking at her, Gu Ximian’s eyes curved into a slight smile, and she paused for an extra second before continuing to read.
…It did indeed look heavier than yesterday’s. Deliberately trying not to overthink what Gu Ximian’s glance meant, Zhuang Chi took a very careful look before pulling her gaze away. Even that fleeting glimpse was enough for her to notice that Gu Ximian’s choker was no longer the silk ribbon style from yesterday; it seemed to have been replaced with a leather neck ring.
“It probably… is uncomfortable,” Zhuang Chi said quietly after looking for a moment, responding to Lu Man while adding, “…but it seems a bit more secure.”
Lu Man repeated the word “Secure?” not quite understanding. Zhuang Chi pressed her lips together, thinking with comprehension that with a choker of this design, it would be difficult for a hawk to tear it off in one go.
…But on the other hand, there was also the risk of being choked and pulled backward by the force if it didn’t break right away. Gu Ximian must have thought of this already. Seeing it made Zhuang Chi sense a certain resolve, a “rather that than have it torn off” kind of determination, which made her subconsciously touch her own neck, feeling a faint ache as if something invisible were strangling her.
“—That concludes my speech.”
Hearing the closing words, Zhuang Chi realized Gu Ximian’s address had apparently ended without her noticing. She watched her put down the speech manuscript, give a slight bow, and say finally, “…I wish you all an unforgettable university life.”
The applause from the audience was louder than for any of the previous speakers. Even Lu Man, who had been clapping perfunctorily, put some effort into it. Zhuang Chi clapped along, thinking to herself that for her, it was all too fitting for Gu Ximian to be the one to say that last sentence.
After all, from the moment she met Gu Ximian at the school gate yesterday, Zhuang Chi’s university life was already destined to be very unforgettable.
