Tan Muxing’s eyes reflected the light, gently bright like the first winter snow resting on the edge of a tiled roof—pure and soft.
In Chu Qianli’s mind, memories of their carefree times suddenly surfaced. The Magical Card Girl squad used to huddle together in the warm Tan family estate, watching as the white snow slowly blanketed Qianshan, from dawn till dusk, chatting about astrology and anime. It felt like there was never a moment of trouble—at least on the surface.
She had thought more than once—if Xingxing hadn’t started out as that chubby polar bear, without those sensitive and tender thoughts, maybe the story would’ve never unfolded this way.
He was gentle and polite, thoughtful and delicate. Even though he wasn’t great at socializing, as long as Wang Zheng didn’t harass him, he probably would’ve made a few friends. During his time at school, he would’ve stayed low-key, gotten into a decent college, and years later, his classmates would be surprised to learn about his background, sighing at how well he had kept it hidden.
He would’ve met someone truly wonderful.
There would always be someone who saw his gentleness.
His life should’ve flowed without waves, quietly blossoming into a happiness others would envy.
An ordinary life is happiness.
If he hadn’t met her.
If he hadn’t met her, he would’ve soon embraced the new life of university, left the high school environment behind, made new friends. He wouldn’t have been injured in that desolate Gobi, nor would he have had to feel disheartened over not having magic—because that was never something he needed to have.
Chu Qianli’s lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to say something, but nothing came out. She knew that if she insisted Tan Muxing not go, he definitely wouldn’t. He’d be afraid of causing her trouble, worried that his presence would become a burden. He was the kind of person who thought that way.
She wanted to speak, but felt mute.
Seeing her silence, Tan Muxing’s gaze dimmed. He said softly,
“You don’t have to think about anything else. Just answer whether you’ve ever had that thought.”
“…Why do you want to know that?”
“I’m just curious.”
“Curious about what?”
“About why someone who always has some excuse to not do homework, who complains after walking a few steps, who throws money around the moment she sees something she likes, and who acts so recklessly when she’s doing things…”
Tan Muxing gave a bitter smile.
“Why would that person suddenly act so mature now?”
He didn’t understand.
He would rather she throw a tantrum at him than see her act so sensibly.
Chu Qianli’s chest suddenly felt blocked—she couldn’t say a single word for quite a while.
Tan Muxing lowered his gaze, his voice very soft:
“Since you’ve never cared about the consequences before, why can’t you be selfish just this once?”
Chu Qianli said with a trembling voice,
“What you’re saying makes it sound like, ‘Since I’ve always been selfish, I might as well keep being reckless and indulgent’…”
Tan Muxing nodded seriously.
“Mm. Things should have a beginning and an end.”
Chu Qianli was momentarily speechless.
He smiled.
“You said before that people are complicated. You use the astrology you’ve learned to restrain yourself, to keep yourself from crossing certain lines. But I just happen not to be that interested in those things.”
She was supposed to be carefree, with no need to overthink everything.
Only fortune-tellers would deduce the outcome, but he was never interested in divination.
“So I just want to know—putting aside all concerns—have you ever had a selfish thought?”
Who wouldn’t want to have a star of their own?
She only needed to tiptoe and she could pluck that star.
But once she disappeared, where was the star supposed to go?
It was impossible to have never had a selfish thought.
She couldn’t lie to him.
“…Yes.”
Chu Qianli added,
“But—”
Tan Muxing smiled with relief and shook his head.
“That’s enough. No but.”
As long as she had that thought, that was more than enough.
“But what if—”
“I told you, you don’t have to think about anything else. Just answer yes or no.”
Tan Muxing touched his face a little awkwardly and mumbled,
“Honestly… you’re better suited to being unreasonable. I’m not really used to this version of you.”
Faced with his calm demeanor, Chu Qianli suddenly found herself unable to give any more reasons. A wave of inexplicable emotion surged up—her nose stung.
She wanted to say she couldn’t see her future.
She wanted to say she didn’t know what lay ahead.
But all of that had been swept away by a single sentence from him.
Just like when he once said there was no need to repay him—he meant every word.
Chu Qianli quickly shook her head, trying to hide the heat that nearly welled up in her eyes. She forced a grumpy tone:
“When was I ever unreasonable…”
Tan Muxing pretended not to notice her reddened eyes or the tremble in her voice. A soft light flickered in his eyes as he replied gently,
“Now that’s more like you.”
Chu Qianli couldn’t describe what she was feeling.
Faced with his complete lack of defenses, she muttered in frustration,
“What you’re saying sounds like you’re encouraging me to do bad things to you!”
His tone, his attitude right now—it was like he was just letting her do whatever she wanted, without any resistance at all.
All that talk about being a little selfish, about staying “naïve”… It was like money waving itself at a thief, afraid the thief wouldn’t notice and forget to rob it!
“Bad things?” Tan Muxing froze at her words, then panicked and stammered,
“…W-Well, that’s… okay too.”
“……”
Their conversation ultimately got stuck on “bad things.”
A moment later, Mei Rujing reentered the conference room. She sensed the odd atmosphere between them and asked curiously,
“Did you two finish talking or not?”
Both Chu Qianli and Tan Muxing looked awkward—but unlike the earlier tension, there was now a shy, bashful vibe instead.
“…We finished.”
“Not really.”
They answered, then looked at each other in silence, and instinctively changed their answers.
“Didn’t really finish…”
“Sort of, I guess.”
Mei Rujing saw their responses didn’t even match. She casually waved it off and said,
“Okay, fine. I don’t even want to know what you two talked about.”
Not long after, Pan Yicheng also returned to the room. He greeted them warmly,
“So, have you all thought it through?”
Mei Rujing:
“I’m in.”
Pan Yicheng nodded and turned to the other two.
“And what about you?”
“I’ll go. Xingxing is coming with me.”
Pan Yicheng looked at Tan Muxing in surprise.
“I thought—”
Tan Muxing was just about to speak when Chu Qianli cut in ahead of him. She looked down and said,
“It’s not that he insisted on going. I’m the one who hopes he’ll go.”
“It’s not him placing his will on me—it’s that I might not be able to keep going without him.”
He shouldn’t be troubled by not having magic. His very existence was magic.
She had drawn strength from him so many times—strength that had nothing to do with astrology or divination.
Chu Qianli looked up, her voice firm and full of confidence:
“That’s why Xingxing has to come with me!”
All three people in the room were stunned.
Tan Muxing’s heart fluttered—he hadn’t expected her to say that.
Faced with her decisive tone, Pan Yicheng thought for a moment and replied,
“If that’s how you feel, and you’ve discussed it clearly, I have no objections. I’ll go report it, then.”
After Pan Yicheng left, Mei Rujing muttered,
“If you two were going anyway, did you really need to put on a whole show?”
Tan Muxing quickly waved his hands in panic.
“Rujing-jie, that’s not it…”
“Forget it. I guessed this would be the outcome anyway. I’ll go get the Sanqing Bell.”
Mei Rujing left the room to fetch the relic key.
Once they were alone again, Tan Muxing looked at the person who’d started all this and, blushing to the tips of his ears, asked,
“Why did you say all that?”
“Because it’s how I really feel. If we’re not thinking about anything else, not worrying about the future, then I do want you to come with me, to be with me…”
Chu Qianli looked down as she spoke, then straightened with righteous confidence.
“I already gave you the chance to leave! You’re the one who said I could be selfish!”
Seeing her raise her chin in defiance, Tan Muxing suddenly felt his heart melt and replied,
“Alright.”
“Hmph.”
Faced with his gentle tone, Chu Qianli, who had been gearing up for an argument, found herself speechless and could only murmur something under her breath.
Pan Yicheng reported the three of their decisions. With Qianmen and the other volunteers, the team was now formed.
The Chinese team was officially finalized. The only thing left was negotiations between both sides.
The crystal ball was currently in a sealed state. Mondson, knowing it was pointless to keep bickering with the Chinese side, shifted the discussion to the Rune Stone and pendulum. Since the ruins and the mine were located in H Country, for now, it couldn’t be said they were at a disadvantage.
Although Chu Qianli and Tan Muxing had decided to go to H Country, it was clear that someone harbored dissenting opinions.
At the negotiation meeting, Lin unsurprisingly saw Chu Qianli and Tan Muxing’s names on the list. Feeling that the Chinese side was making a mockery of things, he voiced his dissatisfaction:
“I think the other personnel are fine, but with all due respect, these two should not be allowed entry.”
“Their past behavior makes me feel they are completely untrustworthy. I don’t believe such people should be permitted to enter H Country.”
These two had just reported a spy as “concerned citizens,” and the next thing you know, they’re blending in with the Chinese national team. Anyone would see this as deliberate provocation!
Lin knew Chu Qianli’s metaphysical skills were exceptional, but he found her unpredictability even greater. It would be better to remove her from the team altogether.
Chu Qianli:
“What’s that supposed to mean? We got denied visas?”
Lin raised an eyebrow:
“Since they’re not official members of your team, it shouldn’t be a problem if I refuse their visas, right?”
Pan Yicheng was stunned:
“Technically, that’s true—but are you sure about this?”
Pan Yicheng had already reported the situation with the compass and tarot cards to his superiors, but the Mondson Group hadn’t been aware of it before the formal negotiations.
Lin nodded confidently.
“I’m sure.”
As soon as Chu Qianli heard that, she pulled out the compass and tarot cards from her pocket and casually said:
“Professor Pan, since they’ve already denied our visas, then we won’t be handing over the keys. No need to force a deal. You guys can go dig on your own—bye-bye!”
Chu Qianli stood up, dragging Tan Muxing with her. With a wave of her sleeve, she prepared to leave with the keys in hand.
When Lin saw the red infant stone at the center of the compass, he froze. He hadn’t expected the remaining keys to be in her possession, and he was shocked.
“That’s…”
He hadn’t imagined she actually held two of the keys!
“I’m sure you guys can manage just fine with five keys. When I get home, I’ll smash the compass, tear up the tarot cards—no big deal. What, you think I’m bluffing?” Chu Qianli said lazily.
Pan Yicheng pretended to be troubled.
“Aiya, look what’s happened now. We told you not to chill the hearts of well-meaning citizens. We put in a herculean effort to convince them to hand over the keys, and now they’re just being kicked out for no reason. Maybe you should reconsider and figure out some kind of compensated resolution?”
Lin: “……”
I am just a novice translator and Chinese is not my native language. I try my best to translate the chapters as accurate as possible.
If there are any mistakes then kindly comment and remind me. Your support means a lot.