After Getting Bound to Both the Protagonist and the Villain at the Same Time - Chapter 8

“Sorry.” Gu Mian’s throat moved uncomfortably, and in the end, she could only force herself to utter the word.

Instinctively, she rubbed her fingertip, feeling the lingering warmth left behind.

Lin Chuyi, still flushed from earlier, restrained her own emotions as well. “It’s, it’s okay.”

Lin Chuyi didn’t know what had come over her—maybe the protagonist’s aura was just too strong. In a fleeting moment, she found herself inexplicably drawn to Gu Mian.

She was about to ponder this further when a whiff of something burning hit her nose. She froze, then smacked her head. “Ah, my noodles!”

Before Gu Mian had come over, Lin Chuyi had been cooking. When she heard movement and stepped out, she’d been tripped by Gu Mian, and the noodles had boiled dry.

Lin Chuyi could only laugh and cry at the same time.

After turning off the heat properly, she mixed the slightly burnt noodles and walked out of the kitchen. Gu Mian stepped forward and took the bowl, glancing down at it. “Jie, do you want me to make a fresh batch?”

“These are fine to eat,” Lin Chuyi said, not being picky. She could scrape off the slightly charred parts while eating. But Gu Mian couldn’t bear it and carried the pot back into the kitchen.

Lin Chuyi followed her in.

“How’s that girl from earlier?” Gu Mian asked while inspecting the fridge.

“She was taken to the nurse’s office after the incident, had her injuries treated, and the school is handling it,” Lin Chuyi replied.

Hearing Gu Mian mention Shen Qing, Lin Chuyi felt a small burst of happiness. Perhaps this meant Gu Mian wasn’t entirely hostile toward her either.

She was about to mention that Shen Qing had been placed next door when Gu Mian continued, “I don’t really like her.”

“Ah?” Lin Chuyi was surprised and missed the chance to speak about Shen Qing.

“She hurt you.”

“I—I wasn’t hurt,” Lin Chuyi said, looking at Gu Mian, wondering if this was some innate protagonist-versus-antagonist tension, born enemies by nature.

Gu Mian spoke whatever came to mind. Though she rarely criticized others, that video had shown a predatory, wolfish glare that made her extremely uncomfortable.

Her privileged upbringing had allowed her to freely voice her thoughts and express herself.

By contrast, Shen Qing was more closed off, rarely revealing her inner thoughts, always considering multiple angles.

At times, Lin Chuyi envied Gu Mian’s uninhibited nature. Compared to her, Lin Chuyi’s temperament was gentle, soft, and she struggled to speak harshly.

“Anyway, it’s fine as long as you brought me home,” Gu Mian mumbled.

Her tone wasn’t heavy—it even carried a hint of coquettishness, making it sound endearing.

Lin Chuyi felt guilty and busied herself around the kitchen, avoiding Gu Mian’s gaze entirely.

She’d already picked her up.

And double wages were appealing. Lin Chuyi silently bowed to the points system.

Gu Mian, unaware of Lin Chuyi’s situation, worked quickly, bringing the water to a rapid boil. The noodles went in and were instantly engulfed by the water.

Steam rose, obscuring Lin Chuyi’s view of Gu Mian’s expression.

Lin Chuyi wanted to tell Gu Mian that she’d picked up Shen Qing, but the words stuck in her throat.

“You can’t say that.” Somehow, Mengmeng the system was back, fluttering its little wings. “The protagonist has clearly stated that the host may only bring one person home. This place is reserved for the protagonist. If you go against the protagonist’s wishes, a huge number of points will be deducted.”

Mengmeng exaggerated “a huge number” as if fearing Lin Chuyi might slip up. If that happened, the owed points wouldn’t just remain unpaid—they’d be taken from her by the System Bureau.

“0927 already gave me a huge batch of points,” Lin Chuyi protested.

Still, she knew her grandmother needed points steadily, day after day, and more was always better.

She wanted her grandmother safe. Lin Chuyi bit her lip, deciding not to mention Shen Qing to Gu Mian.

Through the rising steam, Gu Mian looked at Lin Chuyi. The slight frown on her brow made her look pitiful.

Softening, Gu Mian scooped the noodles into a bowl, waiting for Lin Chuyi to voice her tangled thoughts—or if she didn’t, Gu Mian would ask herself: “Jie, what’s wrong? You look like you want to say something.”

“Nothing. Just the noodles smell so good.” Lin Chuyi tried to change the subject, yet when her eyes rested on Gu Mian’s handiwork, she genuinely thought they smelled amazing.

Gu Mian’s lips curved into a light smile, and her gaze lingered on Lin Chuyi alone. “Made it just for you. Eat slowly.”

Lin Chuyi still worried about checking on Shen Qing later that night. She couldn’t tell Gu Mian she had brought Shen Qing home, so she planned to sneak over once Gu Mian was asleep.

Before going to bed, Gu Mian intended to help Lin Chuyi set up her bed—but the folding iron bed was gone.

“Jie,” Gu Mian called from the bathroom, “where’s your bed?”

“Gave it to Shen Qing,” Lin Chuyi replied.

“Shen Qing?”

“The student I helped this morning,” Lin Chuyi said, a little embarrassed.

“Where will you sleep tonight?” Gu Mian looked at the narrow sofa, then back at the more spacious inner room. Her face immediately brightened.

She couldn’t help but smile. That student seemed like a hard-to-tame wolf from the video—she hadn’t liked her at first sight. But when it came to the iron bed, Gu Mian had to admit: well done!

Previously, Lin Chuyi had insisted on giving Gu Mian the more comfortable bed while she herself slept on the folding bed. No matter how Gu Mian tried to persuade her, Lin Chuyi only occasionally compromised and agreed to sleep in the inner room.

Gu Mian had a love–hate relationship with that iron bed.

If she threw it out, her sister would definitely be upset. But if she didn’t, opportunities to sleep beside her sister were so rare.

“Sofa?”

The water in the bathroom stopped. After a moment of hesitation, Lin Chuyi’s muffled voice drifted out from behind the frosted glass.

“Dummy.”

Gu Mian muttered under her breath in the living room, just loud enough for herself.

If her sister refused to take a hint, then she’d just have to indulge her a little more.

Thinking of how Lin Chuyi had just washed her hair, Gu Mian automatically went to look for the hairdryer.

By the time Lin Chuyi obediently stepped out of the bathroom—dressed in an oversized T shirt and settling onto the sofa—Gu Mian was already ready to dry her hair.

The first time Gu Mian offered to blow dry her hair, the system, Mengmeng, had sternly instructed Lin Chuyi to refuse. She was here to help the protagonist, not to enjoy the protagonist’s service.

But Lin Chuyi’s temperament was soft; she couldn’t win against Gu Mian. Especially because Gu Mian was beautiful—so beautiful that no one could truly refuse when she asked for something.

Mengmeng and Lin Chuyi accepted the favor with the mentality of “losing a little money for a good cause.” But once Gu Mian actually started drying her hair, Mengmeng was stunned.

This? This one blow dry was worth almost an entire day’s points!

Blow! Wash your hair a hundred times a day if you have to!

Mengmeng bounced up and down in excitement—until Lin Chuyi flicked her back into place.

Gu Mian’s fingers were long and pale, the kind that made people’s throats tighten with desire.

Lin Chuyi sat on the edge of the sofa, wearing nothing but a long T shirt that barely covered her thighs. Her damp black hair fell into Gu Mian’s hands. Kneeling on the sofa behind her, Gu Mian lifted the hairdryer and began to work.

Lowering her gaze offered a view far too tempting.

Gu Mian’s palms felt hot. As she brushed the ends of Lin Chuyi’s hair, her fingers moved with restraint and tenderness—slipping through those satin smooth strands, warmed further by the hairdryer’s gentle heat.

Her eyes darkened.

The atmosphere thickened with something warm, something hungry.

Suddenly, as if startled by a burst of hot air, Lin Chuyi flinched. Gu Mian reacted quickly, pulling the dryer away. She steadied her breathing, forcing her thoughts back under control.

“Did I burn you?” Gu Mian asked softly.

“A little.”

Lin Chuyi’s voice was like a small creature’s whimper—soft, trembling, unbearably sweet. Gu Mian apologized in a rush, and Lin Chuyi resumed her seat.

She looked up, and that gentle gaze shot straight into Gu Mian’s heart. Her eyes, still wet from the steam, locked onto Gu Mian as she murmured:

“I still want you to keep drying it.”

“Okay.”

Hearing her sister act spoiled made something inside Gu Mian melt. Her fingertips slid through those long black strands—like willow branches swaying in the spring breeze, carrying a freshness and a subtle, intoxicating sweetness.

Gu Mian’s breathing grew even slower, deeper.

Lin Chuyi sat perfectly straight at the edge of the sofa, but she didn’t know why her heart was racing.

When she had looked up earlier and acted coquettishly, her face had gone hot the moment she turned away. Maybe the warm air from the dryer was getting to her—making her head fuzzy. Otherwise, how could she, how could she look at Gu Mian like that? So naturally, so expectantly? And why was she so warm?

So warm she felt like she might melt.

Gu Mian let out a soft laugh just as Lin Chuyi tried to steady her breath. Her tone carried a teasing lilt, buzzing in Lin Chuyi’s already hazy mind.

“Jiejie, are we friends?”

“Of course.” Lin Chuyi answered. “And very, very good friends.”

“Thank you, Jiejie.”

Gu Mian set the hairdryer aside and knelt fully behind her, wrapping her arms around Lin Chuyi from behind. “Yes, we’re very, very good friends.”

Very, very good friends.

But what I want is far more than that.

Before meeting you, I simply wanted a place to settle.

After meeting you, I wanted to be your very, very good friend.

I want to eat with you, go to work and school with you, hold your hand, watch your eyes turn red as you accept my affection.

I want you to act spoiled with me, kiss me, and cry as you ask me.

Is it okay?

Can I go deeper?

That’s the kind of “very, very good friend” I want to be.

“I want to always, always be Jiejie’s best friend,” Gu Mian whispered, her breath hot and lingering with longing that Lin Chuyi hadn’t yet learned to recognize. “Is that okay?”

Is it okay?

Is it okay if I cross the line just a little more?