Did I Succeed in Redeeming the Villain Today? - Chapter 20

Chapter 20: To be Honest, This Feeling Isn’t Bad…

The sun hanging on the windowsill finally sank below the horizon. The world plunged into boundless darkness.

The kitten lay in the girl’s blood-stained palm like a clump of dark mud. In the cold spring night, her curled-up body had no strength to resist; the air relentlessly stripped away her warmth. The surroundings were deathly silent; not even the sound of human breathing could be heard.

Mu Qiuyu knelt on the ground, staring fixedly at Lu Ning. Her eyes were exceptionally calm—so calm it was as if she, too, were dead. She knew Lu Ning wasn’t dead; she was a System. But her emotions ran contrary to her logic. Staring at the cat, countless thoughts swirled in her head.

She wondered why an animal’s life was so fragile. If it were bigger, stronger, would things be better than they are now? This was the consequence of abandoning primal wildness to become a plaything for human amusement. Mu Qiuyu felt she should let out a cold sneer at this moment. But when she twitched the corners of her mouth, she couldn’t even manage a smile.

—“Who did she become like this for?”

—“You know the answer, don’t you?”

A voice seemed to echo in her ear, questioning and certain. She felt as if a piece of her heart had been carved out—a piece exactly the weight of this small kitten.

Partings in this world always come so fast and abruptly. Just a few hours ago, this little thing was trotting after her to apologize; now, it lay motionless in her hands. It was a jarring, crude transition—the worst script in the world.

Mu Qiuyu stared intensely at Lu Ning’s body. The wind ruffled the cat’s fur, creating an illusion of rising and falling breath. But in an instant, because the System’s consciousness had departed, the body began to dissipate, with crystalline blue sparks slowly rising into the air.

No.

Panic finally flickered in Mu Qiuyu’s eyes. She snapped open the System Mall. Hurriedly scanning through the myriad of items, she finally found a prop in the tool section that could preserve this body.

She exchanged her points. The one hundred points she had recently earned were instantly wiped out, and the kitten’s body stopped decomposing. Looking at the broken body in her palm, a mist formed from her breath clouded her eyes. She hadn’t cared about something like this for a long time. It seemed that everything she cared about would eventually not belong to her.

“…Damn it.”

Mu Qiuyu clenched her fist tightly. In that moment, she forced herself back to calmness. Supporting herself with a hand, she rose on knees that had gone numb from kneeling. Time waited for no one; she had to get out.

In the dim darkness, the crystalline blue map was exceptionally bright. Lu Ning’s final transmission flickered in her vision—a map carefully marked with red dots for the path she needed to take. As she followed the prompts, the path would turn blue.

At least she knows her trade.

Mu Qiuyu let out a faint laugh. The laugh was tinged with the long, silent night, like damp air in the dusty corridor. She quickly realized this and retracted her expression. She remained the woman who never showed her emotions, briskly tucking Lu Ning and the small gold lock into her pocket before running toward the red markers.

The night grew darker, the stars weaving a web across the world. Rapid footsteps echoed through the silent factory, approaching and receding, like a shadow trying to run out of the web. It was Mu Qiuyu, sprinting. She watched the red dots turn blue one by one, her speed increasing. Occasionally, she would stop at a fork in the road, cautiously judging if Lu Ning’s route was correct.

Colossal buildings blocked the other side of the factory; the pitch-black world seemed to have no path. Mu Qiuyu hesitated for a moment but chose to turn the corner according to the map. Suddenly, her field of vision widened. She saw the factory gate—the same one from when she arrived. The large red characters stood in the dark, their rust-red color dim yet conspicuous.

Her heavy breathing formed thin white mists in the chilly night, veiling her eyes. Mu Qiuyu stopped and looked at the decaying characters. The route Lu Ning provided was indeed a reliable one. She had kept her word.

Mu Qiuyu couldn’t remember the last time she had exercised so intensely. The metallic taste of blood surged in her mouth, feeling like razor blades churning inside. She couldn’t tell if the blades were cutting her throat or her chest. Time ticked away in the darkness. No one knew how long Lu Ning’s jammer would last.

Mu Qiuyu gripped her hand and once again quickly tidied up her emotions. She knew this was no time for distractions. So she kept running. But this time, she trusted the map guide Lu Ning left behind completely.

The suburban night was as quiet as another world. A row of dilapidated streetlights flickered along the factory road. Stars blinked as they chased her figure, and the streetlights flickered behind her. Her shadow lengthened and shrunk, appearing and disappearing. Alone, she looked like she was about to be swallowed by the wilderness, yet also like she was struggling to survive out of it.

Escape was something Mu Qiuyu had never experienced in her past life. Later, she spent every day in high-end office buildings where the wind wouldn’t blow through her hair and the taste of blood wouldn’t rise in her throat—but freedom didn’t exist there either. She had almost forgotten she could run. She reached into her pocket as she fled, caressing her kitten.

As the darkness spread into the distance, Mu Qiuyu lost track of how long she had been running. She even began to feel that she would never get out—as if the world only consisted of her and Lu Ning.

To be honest, this feeling wasn’t bad.

After an unknown amount of time, a bright light shone unceremoniously into her eyes from the wilderness. It was the shadow of a car—massive and heavy. It drew closer and closer. Mu Qiuyu’s pace stopped almost instantly. She recognized that this wasn’t an ordinary vehicle. Perhaps sitting inside was the suited man’s boss—that Uncle Chen who never showed his face.

Her expression turned wary. Just as she was about to dive into the darkness by the roadside, the white light was replaced by a familiar vivid red. She recognized this Mercedes-Benz. It was Mu Jingqin’s car.

In the silent wilderness, the massive car pulled over beside the girl. Behind the slowly lowering window appeared a woman’s bright face. Mu Jingqin, dressed sharply for once, leaned against the window, took off her sunglasses, and sized up Mu Qiuyu: “Oh, quite impressive. You got out on your own.”

“Aunt.” Mu Qiuyu called out to her. Her voice was filled with shock and a sense of trance. More than anything, it was disbelief.

Hearing this, Mu Jingqin laughed: “Good, you still recognize me.” She pushed open the passenger door and gestured: “Get in.”

Fragmented memories of her previous life resurfaced. In a blur of white light, she seemed to have seen Mu Jingqin’s silhouette back then too, but she had thought those images were from the hospital. Now she knew—it was Mu Jingqin who had saved her that day.

What exactly was going on?

Mu Qiuyu showed rare obedience, holding the door and sitting in the passenger seat. Her eyes were full of realization as she looked at Mu Jingqin: “Thank you.”

The words fit the situation, but Mu Jingqin felt they were exceptionally solemn. She felt awkward, glanced at her niece, and didn’t respond to the thanks. The car didn’t stay long; Mu Jingqin sent some messages, flashed her lights at the cars coming from behind, and started the engine.

The night was as dark as ink, and the windshield reflected both the woman and the girl. Mu Jingqin didn’t roll up the window; her long hair flew in the night wind. She held the steering wheel casually, glancing at Mu Qiuyu. Seeing she looked okay and the blood on her face didn’t seem to be her own, she asked anyway: “Are you hurt?”

“No,” Mu Qiuyu replied softly.

“Then buckle up,” Mu Jingqin said tersely, flooring the gas pedal.

The wilderness landscape receded rapidly, and the lights of a village appeared in the distance. Mu Qiuyu had no interest in the scenery; she buckled her seatbelt and took the kitten out of her pocket.

“Are we going to a hospital?” Mu Qiuyu asked.

Mu Jingqin glanced at her, finding the question amusing: “Remember, when this kind of thing happens, you go to the police station first.”

That wasn’t the answer Mu Qiuyu wanted. She spoke again: “Can you take me to a pet hospital first?”

This was an abrupt and unreasonable request. Mu Jingqin’s brow furrowed instantly: “Have you lost your mind? Why would you go to a pet—” She turned her head as she spoke. Only then did she realize that the dirty bundle Mu Qiuyu had pulled from her lap wasn’t a rag, but a cat.

Understanding why she wanted to go, Mu Jingqin’s frown deepened. Holding the wheel with one hand, she reached out and precisely touched the kitten’s neck and nose. Finally, she looked at the cat again and declared: “Mu Qiuyu, this cat is dying. It’s beyond saving. Don’t be unreasonable; I don’t have time for your ‘Eldest Miss’ tantrums.”

It felt as if a needle had been driven straight into Mu Qiuyu’s heart. She winced—a rare expression of pain—but it was more like waking up from a calm dream. Because the dreamer doesn’t know they are dreaming, the dream can continue.

Hearing Mu Jingqin’s words, Mu Qiuyu just quietly covered the kitten’s ears and pulled her closer to her chest, stubbornly stating: “I will write you an IOU for the medical expenses.”

The road ahead was a straight line. Mu Jingqin’s gaze remained fixed on her for a long time. She truly didn’t know what was wrong with this child who carried Su Qinghang’s genes. It wasn’t until the car’s lane-departure warning sounded and she saw that Mu Qiuyu’s expression hadn’t changed under her scrutiny that she withdrew her gaze.

Mu Jingqin steadied the steering wheel. She didn’t know what Mu Qiuyu’s problem was; she only knew she must have a problem herself to have adopted Su Qinghang’s child. She told her: “I will notify the police to find you at the pet hospital. Don’t cause me any more trouble.”

“Thank you. I will remember this kindness.” Mu Qiuyu slowly released the hand covering Lu Ning’s ears. Her expression was flat as she bowed her head in gratitude.

Mu Jingqin didn’t expect any benefit from her, simply dropping the same line she had in the previous life: “Remember to pay me back.”

After a period of chaos, the world seemed to shrink into a core, churning in Lu Ning’s stomach. Finally, unable to bear the burden, she struggled to wake up. Consciousness returned along her nerves, and pain was the first to arrive. She felt there wasn’t a single spot on her body that didn’t hurt—especially the base of her tail where the driver had stepped on it. It hurt so much she wanted to curl up…

But just as Lu Ning struggled to turn over, two warm fingertips landed on her shoulder. Before she could open her heavy eyelids, a familiar voice reached her ears.

“Don’t move.”

It was Mu Qiuyu. Lu Ning was dazed; she felt Mu Qiuyu’s voice was unusually gentle and slow. Finally, she opened her eyes.

A flood of white light rushed into her vision, eagerly coating the world in a white veil. Within that veil stood a slender figure. Lu Ning saw the Mu Qiuyu of the Inner World again.

This time, she had her hair tied up; her thick black hair was braided into a full plait, hanging loosely over the shoulder facing Lu Ning. A pink hair tie decorated with small tulips was at the end of the braid. It was a popular style in the outside world, making her look exceptionally gentle.

Lu Ning lay flat, looking a bit stunned. Before she could look longer, she felt something cold pressing against her thigh. Confused, she looked toward the cold sensation.

She saw Mu Qiuyu’s hand holding a pair of shiny silver scissors. Stroke by stroke, she was about to cut open Lu Ning’s dress.

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