Forced into a Secret Marriage with the Villain, We Now Have a Child - Chapter 37

Zhu Feifei had never imagined that the brief encounter between Yu Siyi and Jian Chun back then would still carry such weight today.

All she knew was that Yu Siyi had once gotten lost, and Jian Chun had been the one to bring her back. She didn’t know the details of what happened in between, but she surmised it couldn’t have been pleasant. Yu Siyi was not a cold-hearted person; on the contrary, she remembered those who treated her well for a long time.

At this thought, Zhu Feifei narrowed her eyes. She could easily imagine that the only reason Yu Siyi had shown mercy despite Jian Chun’s constant provocations was likely due to that past encounter. Otherwise, forget about repeatedly making trouble for Yu Siyi—it would have been a question of whether Jian Chun could even remain at this school, or even in this city.

Thinking of this, Zhu Feifei subconsciously glanced at Jian Chun.

Jian Chun was standing at her desk, her lips moving as she silently and obsessively memorized something. The bright sunlight from the window fell across her face, making her fair skin look almost translucent. Her eyelashes trembled slightly like delicate feathers. As she looked down at her desk, a long strand of hair slipped from behind her ear, making her small face appear even more dainty.

Zhu Feifei had to admit that Jian Chun possessed a very deceptive beauty. As long as she stayed quiet and still, any candid photo of her could serve as an “innocent young girl” social media profile picture, capable of attracting a massive following of fans.

But the moment Jian Chun opened her mouth, the illusion shattered. Zhu Feifei still had vivid memories of how Jian Chun used to act—constantly performing crude gestures in an attempt to establish herself as a “Big Sister” boss figure.

Just then, as if sensing something, Jian Chun looked up and met Zhu Feifei’s less-than-friendly gaze. Jian Chun blinked for half a second, then broke into a wide, radiant smile at her.

Zhu Feifei: “…”

The enemy is truly thick-skinned.

The Red Envelope and the “41”

After taking her medicine and drinking several bottles of hot water throughout the day, Jian Chun’s spirits improved by the afternoon. She didn’t go out to eat with the others, fearing she might spread her cold. When she saw Li Ying and Jing Ge waiting for her, she simply waved them off.

By dinner time, even fewer people remained in the classroom. Someone turned on the television to the provincial news. It was a ritual to tune in before evening self-study sessions under the guise of “caring about national affairs”—even though they weren’t tested on politics.

Jian Chun lay slumped on her desk, surreptitiously checking her phone. With her battery still at 90%, she felt a small sense of pride; it meant she had actually paid attention in class today.

She opened a chat group that contained only two people: herself and Yu Siyi.

Yu Siyi’s profile picture was a blackboard with white chalk writing. Curious about Yu Siyi’s seemingly indifferent aesthetic, Jian Chun zoomed in on the image. It was a photo of a teacher’s notes from the previous year.

“How artistic,” Jian Chun thought, ignoring the fact that the date on the board was probably just something a student had forgotten to erase.

Then there was Yu Siyi’s nickname: 41.

Jian Chun puzzled over the meaning of “Forty-One” for a moment before the realization hit her. In Chinese, “41” (Sì-Yī) was a homophone for “Siyi.”

Jian Chun let out a low chuckle. She checked the chat history; the digital red envelope she had sent earlier remained uncollected. She @mentioned Yu Siyi.

One minute passed. Then thirty. The news transitioned into the local weather report, but there was still no reply.

Jian Chun: @41, please accept the red envelope. Yu Siyi: ?

What’s with the question mark? Jian Chun thought.

Jian Chun: It’s for the medicine you bought at noon. Don’t say you don’t need it; I don’t like owing people.

The red envelope was finally accepted, followed by a brief system notification. Jian Chun rubbed her nose. It seemed the other woman really didn’t want to talk to her.

The Confrontation with Ling Zheng

Suddenly, someone called Jian Chun’s name from the doorway. It was Ling Zheng.

Ling Zheng was a striking girl with stylishly messy hair. She wore her shirt slightly unbuttoned at the collar, revealing a hint of her collarbone, with the hem tucked neatly into her waistband to accentuate her long legs. Many of the girls in the room couldn’t help but stare—Ling Zheng’s “Alpha” energy was undeniable.

For the boys in the science track, however, Ling Zheng was a threat. It was hard enough having so few girls in their department; now even the girls were more handsome and eye-catching than they were.

“Something the matter?” Jian Chun asked, stepping out into the hallway while dabbing her nose with a tissue.

Ling Zheng leaned against the wall and winked. “What’s with you? Your eyes are puffy and your nose is red. Did someone bully you?”

“No, just a cold,” Jian Chun replied.

Ling Zheng tilted her chin toward a quiet corner of the corridor. Jian Chun followed hesitantly. Ling Zheng was the “Protagonist Attacker” (Lead) of the original novel. Even though she hadn’t formed a romantic connection with the “Protagonist Receiver” yet, Jian Chun worried the plot might force Ling Zheng to start making trouble for her.

“Let me ask you something,” Ling Zheng said, her smile fading slightly. “How much do you know about Feng Xue?”

“Uh…” Jian Chun gave a strained smile. “Not much. We aren’t close. I’ve already made things clear with her.”

“I heard she has a difficult home situation,” Jian Chun added, trying to remember the original plot. “She’s a top student, maybe top ten in the grade. She’s a bit soft-spoken and helpful…”

Ling Zheng looked at her intently. “You used to like her, didn’t you? Don’t bother denying it, just answer me: Yes or no?”

“How did you know?” Jian Chun asked awkwardly.

“I’m not living under a rock,” Ling Zheng said dryly. “The gossip about you two was quite entertaining.”

Ling Zheng stepped closer, her gaze turning predatory. “Since you don’t have a girlfriend right now… why not consider me?”

“I have the College Entrance Exams to worry about,” Jian Chun retorted. “I’m not looking for a girlfriend.”

“Oh? So Yu Siyi is fine, but I’m not?” Ling Zheng narrowed her eyes, leaning in like a predator cornering its prey.

Jian Chun felt trapped. She had a weakness for beautiful people, especially when they suddenly turned serious. “Maybe you should focus on your studies before worrying about this,” she managed to say.

“No, I want a girlfriend. And I think you’ll do just fine,” Ling Zheng said, looking at Jian Chun as if she were a particularly good-looking piece of produce at a market.

“Why don’t you try hitting on Feng Xue instead?” Jian Chun suggested.

The moment the words left her mouth, she knew she had poked a hornet’s nest. Ling Zheng’s smile vanished.

The Wall Slam

In an instant, the distance between them closed. Ling Zheng slammed her hand against the wall behind Jian Chun, pinning her. When Jian Chun tried to duck away, Ling Zheng blocked her with her other arm.

A Kabedon, Jian Chun thought blankly. I’m being wall-slammed by a girl.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw students from four different classroom doors crowding around to watch the drama.

“I wonder how Yu Siyi would react if I kissed you right now?” Ling Zheng mused, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Would she throw you away? I hear she doesn’t like her things getting… ‘soiled’.”

“Are you crazy?” Jian Chun snapped, genuinely angry now. “Whatever grudge you have with Yu Siyi has nothing to do with me!”

Ling Zheng leaned down, her lips inches from Jian Chun’s cheek. Jian Chun’s hands were pinned. Just as the kiss was about to land, a hand suddenly shot out, blocking Ling Zheng’s lips.

With a flash of movement, Jian Chun was pulled free.

Ling Zheng recoiled, spitting in distaste as if she’d touched something foul. She looked at the newcomer and scoffed. “Weren’t you just going to watch? Why interfere now? It’s not like you’ve put your mark on her yet, have you?”

“Ling Zheng.”

Yu Siyi’s voice wasn’t loud, but it was cold enough to make the blood run cold. The surrounding crowd shivered. It was the first time any of them had seen Yu Siyi truly angry.

Yu Siyi stood before Jian Chun, looking disgusted. She took a tissue from Zhu Feifei and began meticulously scrubbing the back of her hand—the spot Ling Zheng’s lips had touched.

“I’ll see you around,” Ling Zheng laughed, unfazed by the germaphobic display, and sauntered off.

Jian Chun watched Yu Siyi, who didn’t say a word. The air felt heavy. Yu Siyi cast a chilling look at her—one that seemed to pierce right through her heart—before turning toward the restroom.

The School Uniform

Later, at the sinks, Jian Chun found Yu Siyi scrubbing her hands under the rushing water.

“You’re going to make your cold worse,” Yu Siyi said coldly as Jian Chun prepared to splash her face with cold water. She grabbed Jian Chun’s wrist to stop her.

“I won’t,” Jian Chun said, looking up. “And… thanks for earlier. You really scared me.”

Yu Siyi didn’t respond. She turned to leave, and Jian Chun hurried after her.

“By the way,” Jian Chun said, trying to break the silence. “You gave me your uniform jacket. What are you going to wear?”

“I have another set,” Yu Siyi replied briefly.

“Oh… then where’s my old uniform?” Jian Chun asked.

Yu Siyi’s expression shifted slightly. A tiny, deep dimple appeared on her cheek. “Take a guess.”

“Uh…”

Yu Siyi looked into Jian Chun’s clear, watery eyes and said with a hint of dark amusement, “I gave it to a stray cat to use as a nest.”

Jian Chun: “…”

Well, I expected as much.

“That works too,” Jian Chun muttered.

They walked back to the classroom in silence. As they entered, a hundred pairs of eyes fell on Jian Chun. The school chat groups were already exploding with 99+ messages:

“Ling Zheng tried to kiss her?!” “Is Yu Siyi chasing her too?!” “If you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth…”

The gossip was reaching a fever pitch, but as the bell rang for the final session, the room finally fell into a tense, studious silence.