After Redeeming the Female Lead, I Faked My Death and Escaped - Chapter 24.1

At exactly seven o’clock, Ying Xu opened her eyes.

The dome ceiling was adorned with a mural depicting birds soaring across a blue sky.

The pale winter sunlight spilled into the room, hazy and white. She stared at it for a few seconds before getting up to wash up.

This was the seventh day since Ying Xu’s “public apology.”

All her social media accounts had been attacked. Under her already sparse posts, tens of thousands of hateful comments had piled up like towering skyscrapers. Her inbox was flooded with harassing messages. Some had even dug up her hotel check-in information, flower baskets, wreaths, and even a black-and-white funeral portrait with the character “mourning” scrawled along the frame.

This frenzy lasted a full three days, with Ying Xu’s name stubbornly clinging to the trending searches.

Her words had been too ruthless. Had it not been for the full exposure of Gu Qingzhu’s team’s true nature, public opinion would never have shifted. Yet, “Ying Xu” herself had been so infatuated with Gu Qingzhu that the orchestrators, weighing the pros and cons, had unhesitatingly thrown her under the bus.

Recalling Gu Qingzhu’s promise “I’ll minimize the fallout from the public opinion” Ying Xu couldn’t help but curl her lips into a smile.

The Alpha who had once treated her with such care, worshipped her like a deity, couldn’t even keep her word to quell the storm when Ying Xu was trampled into the mud, subjected to endless insults.

Ying Xu despised those who broke their promises. But when it was Gu Qingzhu who had betrayed her, she could only find it amusing.

A person who lived solely in their own imagined world, nothing they did could surprise Ying Xu.

A notification popped up on her screen a message from Sheng Qiuyu: 【Awake yet? [cute]】

Attached was a photo of a woman in an emerald green floor length dress standing under a chandelier. The Omega had one hand resting on a corgi’s tail, the other making a playful gesture, her smile brimming with uncontainable pride.

【How do you like this dress?】

During Ying Xu’s live-streamed apology, viewership had skyrocketed to a million. Sheng Qiuyu’s high-profile behavior had immediately sparked discussions on forums about alternative possibilities, but those threads were swiftly deleted within minutes, leaving no trace.

Sheng Qiuyu had claimed she was returning to the main city, but in reality, she had been summoned home to “reflect” for a few days.

The day of the “wreath” incident marked their first contact since the scandal broke. Over the phone, the Omega’s voice had been unusually hoarse, laced with suppressed sobs, as if she had just argued with someone before calling.

Despite that, she had maintained a façade of composure, even forcing a lighthearted tone, urging Ying Xu not to dwell on the backlash.

Truthfully, Ying Xu hadn’t taken any of it to heart.

These people, convinced they were the arbiters of justice, sat in lofty judgment over Ying Xu, eager to manipulate public sentiment. In reality, they were nothing more than clowns trapped in the lies she had spun. Ying Xu looked down on them, every “hate comment” appearing laughable in her eyes.

But indifference aside, being cared for was inherently pleasant.

Though her mood was light, Ying Xu kept her tone subdued, feigning a hint of grievance.

The call should have ended with small talk, but within minutes, Sheng Qiuyu spoke again.

Her voice, unusually cold, seemed coated in ice.

“Find out who he is.”

“I know none of you want me in contact with Ying Xu. But why should she bear the consequences of Gu Qingzhu’s mess?”

Ying Xu didn’t want Sheng Qiuyu to argue with anyone on her behalf. The reputation associated with the name “Ying Xu” was already bad enough, Sheng Qiuyu should never have been tied to it in the first place.

Just as she was about to send a message to comfort Sheng Qiuyu, the woman on the other end seemed to realize the call was still ongoing by mistake and abruptly hung up.

A few minutes later, Sheng Qiuyu’s account sent a message: 【I just want you to be happy.】

Ying Xu didn’t reply.

As with this matter, both of them tacitly let it pass without further mention.

Days later, the netizen in question remained free and unrestrained, continuing to hurl real-name insults at Ying Xu on their profile, taking the spectacle to its extreme.

But at least for the time being, Ying Xu had no energy to engage with them.

After weighing the pros and cons, she ultimately added Wei Siyan’s contact. The beta was busy with work and rarely chatted idly with Ying Xu. However, ever since they became friends, Ying Xu’s newly changed account began receiving numerous business collaboration invitations from brands under the Xu family or their partners even scripts from directors.

Though they were all small investments, they were enough to prove the Xu family’s sincerity. No matter what Ying Xu did, whether it was right or wrong, and regardless of public opinion, as long as Ying Xu needed it, the Xu family would extend their help without hesitation.

Among these, one beta named 【Chen Wei】 stood out as particularly special.

She was the director of a welfare home in Star City dedicated to housing disabled girls, which had been fully funded by the Xu family since its establishment.

Wei Siyan and her husband were known for their philanthropy and deep love for children. At their peak, the couple had simultaneously supported over a hundred welfare homes, earning widespread recognition.

Chen Wei had added Ying Xu in hopes that the alpha could use her influence to promote the welfare home, drawing more attention from kind-hearted people to the children and increasing their chances of being adopted.

This was inherently a good cause, and Ying Xu had no reason to refuse. The process went smoothly, and for the first time in a while, she felt a sense of ease.

It seemed that since her transmigration, apart from Gu Qingzhu and those around her, everyone she had met had been decent.

Ying Xu didn’t mind being used; she only hated being deceived. If everyone could be as straightforward as Cheng Yun, laying out the pros and cons clearly, as long as she was interested in the matter itself, she would likely not refuse.

The Xu family acted quickly. Ying Xu had only finalized the details yesterday, and today, marketing accounts were already spreading the news.

The comments section was still filled with vitriol. After observing for a while and confirming that other messages had been handled, Ying Xu finally replied to Sheng Qiuyu: 【It looks great.】

She zoomed in on the photo, not to examine the details of the outfit, but because the massive screen behind the omega displayed a news broadcast showing the time as last night.

Sheng Qiuyu had an overwhelming urge to share, often mentioning trivial things like clothes in passing, things she herself would likely forget immediately. Yet, at this moment, she had specifically sent Ying Xu an old photo, making the attempt to cover up all the more obvious.

The app showed that the latest flight from the main city to Star City had taken off twenty minutes ago.

Ying Xu couldn’t help but smile.

The flight would take four hours. After chatting briefly, Sheng Qiuyu began catching up on sleep. Meanwhile, Ying Xu browsed through the scripts in her inbox. Though they were all small-budget projects, the plots themselves were clever, and she was interested in exploring them.

But before making any moves, she needed to gather more information, ensuring that even if she didn’t hold the upper hand, she at least wouldn’t be at a disadvantage.

The morning passed in the reading of scripts.

The only interruption seemed to be a phone call from “Ying Xu’s” agent midway through.

Alpha’s talent agency had long been a shell of its former self, and the agent’s attitude toward her was particularly poor, previously neglecting her in various ways, and on the day of the incident, outright deleting her from their contacts.

The sudden call came only because he had seen Ying Xu’s activities in a push notification.

The man was nearly hysterical, demanding to know why she had bypassed the company to make private arrangements. If she didn’t amend the contract and pay a certain penalty, he threatened to sue her for breach.

Ying Xu propped her chin on her hand, listening to the clown on the other end of the line rant for a long while before lazily replying, “Then please contact Miss Gu. She said she would handle these matters for me.”

Of course, Gu Qingzhu had never personally said any such thing, but the agent, unaware of the truth, genuinely believed there was some agreement between them after all, every move Ying Xu made seemed to him like a blind man groping an elephant.

He didn’t dare bother Ying Xu further, but she, intrigued, pressed him for details about the contract. Only then did she learn just how much darker the terms were than she had imagined.

The breach penalties were exorbitant, the commission rates high, and one clause explicitly stated that the artist must fulfill the contract under any circumstances, whether due to illness or other pressing matters, if the company demanded it, she had to be available at a moment’s notice.

Ying Xu finally lifted her gaze, no longer fixed on the script but drifting toward the heavy snow outside the window.

No matter how harsh the contract, the original owner had fulfilled it flawlessly for years.

If the original owner could do it, why couldn’t Gu Qingzhu?

She toyed with her phone, about to reach out to Sheng Qiuyu again, when another message abruptly popped up.

[Miss Ying, since the film crew halted production, Qingzhu’s condition has been poor. She’s been staying at the residence, refusing to see us or contact anyone else. I hope you can visit her on my behalf.]

The lines of text lay on the screen, clearly from Shan Qiaoyun.

Personal information was cheap, and Ying Xu wasn’t curious how she’d gotten her contact details. She just found it laughable.

Was this all it took for Gu Qingzhu’s condition to deteriorate?

The future was still long.

She didn’t reply, but Shan Qiaoyun sent another message.

[Recently, I’ve reflected on my past words and actions. If I’ve offended you in any way, I apologize. But our concern for Qingzhu is the same please understand.]

The words sounded earnest, but only barely. Still, the fact that Shan Qiaoyun could lower herself to apologize to “Ying Xu,” whom she had always looked down on, was unexpected.

But so what if it was unexpected? Who decreed that an apology must be forgiven, or that a pitiful life must be met with universal sympathy?

Moreover, just one week had been enough to make the once most “arrogant” Shan Qiaoyun swallow her pride. Given more time, what about Gu Qingzhu? What would her attitude become?

The thought was genuinely intoxicating.

Ying Xu mulled it over, ready to outright ignore the message, even considering blocking the number to make Shan Qiaoyun go through the trouble again, when the system suddenly chimed in:

[Urgent reminder to the host: The female lead’s recent condition is subpar and in dire need of care and concern. Please make contact with her as soon as possible, engaging in intimate conversation to gain favorability points.]

Favorability points. Hearing the term again, Ying Xu still didn’t understand what use were they, really?

Sheng Qiuyu’s favorability had already surpassed 70 during this period.

Yet, their daily interactions remained unchanged. Sheng Qiuyu didn’t become any more intimate if anything, her words grew even more restrained.

As for her favorability with Gu Qingzhu, it remained firmly in the negative, an alarmingly high number. Xu Ying didn’t even entertain the thought of turning it positive.

She asked bluntly: [What happens if I don’t raise it?]

This time, the system fell silent for a long while before responding.

[In truth, regardless of whether you complete the mission or how well you perform, you will remain perfectly safe, until a certain event occurs.]

A sudden, ominous premonition gripped Xu Ying.

The next second, the system confirmed just how “bad” it was.

[If, during the course of your mission, the female lead dies for any reason other than natural causes, you will die as well.]

Die.

No two words could have sent a sharper chill down Xu Ying’s spine.

She stood abruptly. *”Not feeling well,” “Can’t be reached”*phrases she had once mocked now hung over her like a blade, sending cold sweat down her back.

What does a mentally unstable person do when left alone?