Is Self-Redemption Really That Hard? [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 12

Would it be cramped for two people to share a 1.2-meter-wide bed?

For most, yes — probably a little crowded. But for a couple? Please. Even a one-meter or ninety-centimeter bed would feel spacious.

After all, when two people are sleeping in each other’s arms, a lot of “overlapping” happens, which saves quite a bit of space.

By mid-September, the weather had cooled a little, but when the so-called “autumn tiger” struck, the heat could still be stifling.

To ensure a more comfortable night, Lan Xu had even prepaid a hundred yuan for electricity — so they could enjoy the air conditioning guilt-free.

After a good night’s rest, neither Lan Xu nor Lu Wuqi slept in. Around eight-thirty, they climbed out of bed, washed up, and prepared to grab breakfast before heading out.

What Lan Xu didn’t expect was that one of their new roommates — who wasn’t supposed to arrive until the afternoon — showed up before nine, key in hand.

“Hi! You must be Lan and Ai, right? I’m Yan Yuanyuan.”

Pushing a large suitcase, the tall girl with a high ponytail and a few tote bags smiled brightly at them.

Lan Xu froze for a moment. “Uh, I’m Lan Xu. This is my friend — she’s not one of our roommates.”

“Oh! Sorry, I must’ve misunderstood. I saw your messages in the group chat and thought,” Yan Yuanyuan trailed off awkwardly. She’d spent half the morning memorizing names in the hallway, only to get it wrong the moment she walked in.

But then again, she’d purposely chosen to arrive this early. How was she supposed to know someone else would already be here?

“Hello, I’m Lu Wuqi — Computer Science major, first year.” Lu Wuqi stepped in smoothly to ease the awkwardness. “Need a hand with your stuff?”

“Ah, no, it’s fine! A senior already helped me bring it upstairs.” Yan Yuanyuan quickly set her tote bag on top of the oversized suitcase and rolled it in herself.

“These two beds are already taken?” she asked, glancing around.

Capital University was generous with its facilities — most girls’ dorms were four-person rooms, all equipped with upper-bed, lower-desk setups to ensure everyone had their own space.

“Yeah,” Lan Xu said, pointing. “This one’s mine, and that one belongs to Ai.” She’d chosen the bed near the door but far from the light switch.

“Oh, got it.” Yan Yuanyuan hesitated between the bed opposite Lan Xu’s and the one diagonal from it, then chose the former — conveniently within reach of the light switch.

“Have you had breakfast yet, Yan?” Lan Xu asked politely.

“I have, thanks! I’ll stay here and unpack. But if you find any good places to eat, share them with me later, okay?” Yan replied with a friendly smile.

“Sure,” Lan Xu said. “See you tonight, then.”

Capital University allotted freshmen three days for registration; they were now on the second day.

After breakfast at the cafeteria, Lu Wuqi and Lan Xu headed to the hospital to accompany Lu’s mother in completing her admission procedures.

Only three people knew the truth about Mrs. Lu’s condition — the doctor, Lu Wuqi, and Miao Miao. Both Mrs. Lu and Lan Xu only knew that she needed a minor operation and would recover quickly.

Thanks to Miao Miao’s arrangements, the entire process was seamless — no loopholes, no suspicions, even with Lan Xu present.

“You two should go back to campus,” Mrs. Lu said gently, sitting on the hospital bed. “The doctors and nurses will take care of me. You don’t need to stay.”

Capital Hospital’s specialists were notoriously busy, but with Miao Miao’s help, the surgery was scheduled for Thursday morning — five days later — under one of the country’s top kidney specialists.

“Alright, then. Just follow the doctors’ instructions, Mom. The ward provides meals, and if anything comes up, call me anytime. I’ll be here for the surgery.” Lu Wuqi spoke calmly.

If she insisted on staying with her mother — especially with Lan Xu around — it might only make Mrs. Lu feel pressured and overthink. It was better to keep things simple for now.

Once the registration chaos settled, it was time for course selection and club recruitment.

Lu Wuqi and Lan Xu were in different schools, so they’d only share classes when the university scheduled large, public lectures.

To maximize their time together, they’d studied the curriculum carefully and managed to line up two shared classes — Marxism on Mondays and English on Wednesdays.

“Our course selection window opens at the same time,” Lu Wuqi said as she navigated the university’s intranet from a library computer. “Just send me your list and login info. I’ll help you pick.”

“You’re selecting for both of us?” Lan Xu asked, a little worried. “Won’t that make it harder to get the classes we want?”

“Not at all. The network’s fast. As long as nothing glitches, I’ll get every class you want.”

Hacking the university’s internal system wasn’t difficult. A few lines of code could automate the process, ensuring both schedules were submitted within ten seconds — faster than 99% of manual attempts.

“Okay then. I’ll send you two versions of my course plan — use the second one as backup if the first doesn’t go through.” After all, she thought, Lu Wuqi was a Computer Science major.

“By the way, I’ll leave my laptop with you,” Lan Xu added, handing over her bag. “We won’t need it much this semester — most of our professors want handwritten assignments.”

“The password’s my lunar birthday. It’s just got basic software installed, so do whatever you want with it. You know computers way better than I do.” She smiled casually. “I’ll just use my phone and tablet.”

Lu Wuqi glanced down at the laptop bag. She almost said she’d already bought a high-end desktop, but thought better of it.

She hadn’t told Lan Xu about her partnership with Miao Miao — or the stock trading. Better to keep it quiet for now. Once she had a reasonable explanation, she’d come clean.

“Alright,” she said instead. “If I land a part-time gig, we’ll split the profit 90–10. Consider this laptop your investment in my ‘startup.’”

“Deal,” Lan Xu said, amused. “No need to settle daily — weekly’s fine.”

Ninety–ten meant her cut would barely cover a milk tea. If anything, she’d just save the money for Lu Wuqi.

“Quick, quick, quick! Three minutes left before course selection opens! Everyone ready?”

Sitting opposite Lan Xu, Yan Yuanyuan was already tense, refreshing the page repeatedly to “get a feel for it.”

“Lan Xu, why are you still watching videos? Aren’t you going to grab classes?” asked Ai Jiaxin, who shared the same side of the room.

“I gave my account to a friend,” Lan Xu said, smiling. “She’s helping me pick.”

“The Computer Science one — Lu, right?” Yan Yuanyuan, the only one who’d met her, asked.

Lan Xu nodded. She glanced at her phone. “One minute left, you two better focus — don’t miss it!”

“Ugh, why is it lagging already? It hasn’t even started!”

“It’s open, it’s open! Quick — grab Professor Liu’s course!”

“What? It’s gone already! I was so fast! How?”

“Crap, my schedule conflicts! The only slot left is Friday afternoon! There goes my three-day weekend!”

Three people, but their collective groaning could’ve rivaled a full dorm floor.

Before Lan Xu could say anything to comfort them, a message popped up from Lu Wuqi.

[Image]

Lu Wuqi: Mission accomplished, awaiting leader’s approval!

Lan Xu opened the screenshot. Every single course matched her first-choice plan perfectly. The corners of her lips lifted.

As her roommates lamented missing out on the most popular classes, that screenshot looked even more pleasing to the eye.

So, Lu Wuqi could be pretty brilliant when she wanted to be. Those classes were notoriously hard to get, and she’d secured them all without breaking a sweat.

Lan Xu tried not to smile too broadly as she typed back:

Lan Xu: Great work — well done. Dinner’s on me tonight.