After the Heroine of a Smutty ABO Novel Read My Mind - Chapter 2

The next morning, Shen Huan was sporting two massive dark circles under her eyes, feeling as though half her soul had already departed her body.

 

Before heading home last night, she had refused to accept reality until she asked the frail little secretary for her full name.

 

The secretary lowered her head and whispered, “Manager Shen, my name is Chu Qiqian.”

 

At that moment, Shen Huan felt the very foundations of her world crumble.

 

Chu Qiqian.

 

The original protagonist of the novel, the one who gets physically and mentally tormented by Xue Lan for thousands of chapters, only to develop Stockholm Syndrome and fall in love with her in the end.

 

Shen Huan had spent the entire night tossing and turning. Her mind was a chaotic blur of non-consensual “adult” scenes from the book, mixed with the grim realization that if she didn’t stick to her engineering projects, she’d likely end up as a mere prop in the couple’s “play.”

 

“Manager Shen…”

 

“MANAGER SHEN!”

 

A thunderous roar exploded in her ear, nearly sending Shen Huan into orbit from her office chair.

 

snapped her head up, meeting the resentful face of a very large man.

 

“Luo Chunxiao!” Shen Huan clutched her chest, her morning grumpiness mixing with the existential dread of being a character in a book. “Have you got a subwoofer installed in your throat? What are you shouting for?!”

 

Old Luo pouted, looking slighted. “I’ve been calling you for ages. You looked like you’d lost your spirit.”

 

He cleared his throat and straightened up. “The Cultural Relics Bureau finished their assessment. It’s not a major issue, just an ordinary Ming Dynasty tomb. The client says we can resume work next week. The schedule shouldn’t be affected.”

 

“Oh.”

 

If this had been yesterday, it would have been cause for celebration. But now, Shen Huan just waved a hand listlessly. “Right. Noted.”

 

The world was ending; did a project schedule even matter?

 

If she was just an NPC in a book, was the money she worked so hard for just monopoly money?

 

Seeing his boss looking like a withered aubergine, Old Luo sighed and said earnestly:

 

“Manager Shen, I know it’s been a tough slog. If you’re burnt out, take a holiday once this project wraps up. But you can’t fall apart now, hundreds of workers are depending on you for their bread and butter.”

 

After Old Luo left, the office fell silent again.

 

Shen Huan massaged the bridge of her nose and let out a bitter chuckle.

 

So what if she was in a book? So what if she was an NPC?

 

Even paper people need to eat. Even paper people need to pay their staff.

 

Just then, her phone vibrated.

 

Caller ID: Xue Lan.

 

Shen Huan’s finger twitched, nearly dropping the phone on her face.

 

To answer, or not to answer? That was the life-or-death question.

 

Logic told her: Run! She’s a clinical psychopath!

 

But her “pretty privilege” instinct told her: She’s a total babe! A top-tier ice queen who hits every single one of your aesthetic buttons!

 

After hesitating for exactly 0.01 seconds, Shen Huan swiped to answer with the grim resolve of a martyr.

 

“Sister…”

 

The voice coming through the receiver was low and cool, but the end of the word curled upward like a silken hook.

 

A shiver raced straight up Shen Huan’s spine. Her knees went embarrassingly weak.

 

Damn it.

 

Who are you calling “Sister”? That’s cheating!

 

“Cough… Miss Xue?” Shen Huan tried her best to maintain her “Manager Shen” persona. “Is something the matter?”

 

“Didn’t Sister say she was going to buy me dinner last night?” Xue Lan’s voice carried a hint of nonchalant amusement. “It’s only been one night; has Sister forgotten already?”

 

Shen Huan’s brain stalled.

 

Actually. She had said that.

 

Blinded by the woman’s beauty the night before, she’d casually made a promise she didn’t think she’d have to keep.

 

“Well…” Shen Huan tried to wriggle out of it. “I might have to work late tonight. Things are a bit hectic at the site, so perhaps another day.”

 

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll wait as long as it takes.”

 

Xue Lan didn’t give her a chance to refuse. “I’ll send you the address. Sister, don’t be late.”

 

Beep.

 

The line went dead.

 

Shen Huan stared at the black screen and let out a sigh from the depths of her soul.

 

“I’ve really done it now.”

 

This dinner felt less like a date and more like an execution.

 

County Guest House, Room 302.

 

Xue Lan tossed her phone onto the bed. The smile vanished instantly, replaced by a deathly, icy stillness.

 

“Shen Huan…”

 

She tasted the name softly, a dark, unreadable light flickering in her eyes.

 

The date on the phone calendar glowed mockingly: 8 June.

 

Xue Lan stared at the “8,” her fingers slowly clenching until her knuckles turned white.

 

Finally… she had finally made it past that day.

 

Only she knew the true cost of reaching this seemingly ordinary “tomorrow.”

 

She had been trapped in a loop of 7 June more times than she could count.

 

The first time, she went to the Phantom Club to hand over some work and met Chu Qiqian. In that moment, it was as if she’d been cursed; her body moved against her will, trying to assault that Omega. Disgusted, resistant, and desperate, she had eventually plunged a candlestick from the table into her own heart just to stay sane.

 

The second time, she woke up in terror, the time reset to the morning of 7 June. She tried to hide, locking herself in her room. But by 8:00 PM, her body moved like a marionette back toward the club, toward that inevitable plot point. That time, she chose to throw herself in front of a speeding lorry.

 

The third time, the fourth, the hundredth…

 

Jumping from buildings, slitting her wrists, drowning.

 

She had tried every way to die, just to escape that scripted, revolting fate.

 

But after every death, she would wake up promptly on the morning of 7 June, looking at the same family transfer orders and feeling the same soul-crushing despair.

 

She was trapped in a designed game, forced to follow a predetermined script.

 

Disobedience brought nothing but endless torment and resets.

 

Until yesterday, the Nth loop.

 

She had planned to try a method recorded in an ancient text: killing the plot’s core character, Chu Qiqian.

 

She had gone to the club with a hidden dagger, only to collide with someone in the corridor.

 

Shen Huan.

 

A variable that had never appeared in the hundreds of previous loops.

 

The moment she collided with that woman, the mysterious force that had been clawing at her mind, forcing her to violate Chu Qiqian, miraculously vanished.

 

In its place, she heard a noisy, vivid inner voice:

 

Ouch—that hurt. This woman is so elegant, she’s exactly my type!

 

Wait, this is the world of XX? Her name is Xue Lan? I’m doomed! Stay away from the psycho if you want to live!

 

A psycho? Is she talking about me?

 

Xue Lan leaned back on the sofa, slowly swirling the red wine in her glass. A playful, curious arc touched her lips.

 

She looked at her hand; there were no scars from the second loop.

 

She had lived through 7 June countless times, and she had died just as many.

 

And Shen Huan was the only “accident.”

 

What’s more, she seemed to know who Xue Lan was.

 

“Since my sister knows exactly who I am”

 

Xue Lan tilted her head back and drained the wine. The crimson liquid stained the corner of her mouth, making her pale skin look even more bewitchingly ethereal.

 

“Then Sister, can you save me?”

 

As the alcohol took hold, Xue Lan stood and headed for the bathroom.

 

Before this night of unknowns began, she needed to ensure she was in her most perfect state.

 

The shower turned on, hot water washing over her body.

 

A unique scent began to fill the cramped bathroom.

 

It wasn’t sweet like flowers, nor heavy like wood. It was like an ancient book being opened after years of being sealed with a cool scent of ink with a trace of imperceptible bitterness.

 

It was the pheromone of a top-tier Alpha: Scholarly Ink.

 

7:00 PM.

 

Shen Huan stood in the dim corridor of the guest house, clutching the slip of paper with the room number.

 

This place was a bit of a dump, wasn’t it? Did the great eldest miss of the Xue family really stay here?

 

Scoffing internally, Shen Huan knocked.

 

Knock, knock, knock.

 

No answer.

 

“Miss Xue?”

 

She knocked a few more times, but there was only silence.

 

Did she stand me up?

 

Shen Huan pulled out her phone and dialled.

 

The ringtone sounded from inside the room, muffled by the old wooden door.

 

She’s in there?

 

Shen Huan frowned. Just as she was about to press her ear to the door, her nose twitched.

 

A strange fragrance was seeping through the cracks of the door.

 

It was light and elegant, like the scent of long scrolls of parchment being unfurled, yet it carried a heat that made her knees feel weak.

 

“What’s that smell? Does this guest house use incense?”

 

Shen Huan was a typical transmigrator; though she was an Alpha, she wasn’t particularly sensitive to pheromones. She just thought it smelled quite nice, though it made her feel strangely. flushed.

 

Inside the room.

 

Xue Lan was curled into a ball on the bathroom floor, soaked to the bone and flushed deep red.

 

That nightmarish force was back.

 

Even though it was past midnight, that violent urge to destroy and possess everything remained like a rot in her bones.

 

“Go away”

 

She bit her lower lip so hard that blood welled up, trying to use the pain to reclaim her sanity.

 

Her vision was blurring. Every breath felt like swallowing hot coals.

 

Just then, she heard the knocking from outside and the woman’s confused muttering.

 

The only antidote.

 

Xue Lan reached a trembling hand toward the empty air, her voice broken and filled with desperate pleading:

 

“Shen Huan”

 

“Help me”