Is Self-Redemption Really That Hard? [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 15

After hanging up on the landlord, Lu Wuqi stared quietly at the garden square below for a full minute before dialing Lan Xu’s number.

“Xuxu, the surgery went very well. Mom just needs a few more days of rest before she can be discharged,” Lu Wuqi said. Her tone, usually calm and detached, softened for once, carrying genuine warmth.

“That’s great news! I don’t have any classes this afternoon or evening—I’ll come right over!” Lan Xu exclaimed, relief flooding her voice as she quickened her steps back toward the dorm.

“Alright. Let’s have dinner together before heading back,” Lu Wuqi replied, no longer turning her down.

Since the outcome was good, letting Lan Xu visit would help put her mind completely at ease.

As it turned out, Lu Wuqi had been very wise to block her father and the landlord in advance.

Because on the third day after her mother’s surgery—Saturday afternoon—the landlord called again to report that Lu’s father had gone missing, the newly installed lock had been smashed, and the room was a mess.

Lu Wuqi remained perfectly calm. She told the landlord she would cover the cost of replacing the locks and even instructed him to switch out both the solid wood interior door and the old security door outside.

“What about the room itself? Should I have someone clean it up?” the landlord asked hesitantly, feeling a pang of guilt—he couldn’t help but feel as though he was bullying an orphaned girl and her sick mother.

“No need. Just change the lock,” Lu Wuqi replied, then paused. “If it’s convenient, could you also install a video doorbell or camera outside? I’ll cover all the expenses.”

“My mom and I probably won’t be back until after National Day. With a camera installed, we’ll feel a bit more at ease.”

Since he didn’t have to pay for it himself, the landlord readily agreed. It would benefit him too—if the door was ever damaged again, the footage would help identify who did it and serve as evidence.

As for her father’s whereabouts, Lu Wuqi didn’t plan to monitor him closely. She simply wrote a small tracking program that allowed her to check his phone’s approximate location whenever needed. The data wasn’t precise, but it was accurate enough to pinpoint a neighborhood or village.

A week later, all of Mrs. Lu’s post-surgery indicators were excellent. After consulting with her daughter, she quickly completed the discharge paperwork.

“Mom, it’ll be National Day in just ten days. Why don’t you stay in the capital for a bit? We can go home together then,” Lu Wuqi suggested as her mother packed her things, offering a proposal that clearly tempted her.

“Forget it. Staying in a hotel for ten days is too expensive. I’ll just take the high-speed train back,” Mrs. Lu said, returning to practicality after a brief moment of temptation.

“Mom, don’t worry about the cost. I recently met a senior executive from a tech company. She really appreciates me and has already decided to invest in me,” Lu Wuqi explained, revealing just enough of the truth. She handed over her bank card and showed the balance.

“You have more than fifty thousand yuan? Where did that money come from?” Mrs. Lu’s eyes widened in disbelief.

She remembered clearly that she had only borrowed ten thousand yuan from the supermarket owner, and that was all she had given her daughter.

“It’s from Vice President Miao. She wants me to work for her company after graduation, so she’s giving me an advance sponsorship,” Lu Wuqi said, pulling up a prepared transaction record for her mother to inspect.

“I’ve been doing part-time work for her in my free time,” she added. “Half of my pay will go toward repaying that fifty thousand; the rest is for living expenses.”

“This Vice President Miao—have you actually met her in person?” Mrs. Lu asked, still doubtful.

Fifty thousand wasn’t a small amount. She herself would have to work a full year without spending a cent to save that much. How could someone hand it over so casually to her daughter—a freshman who’d only been in college for a week?

“Yes, we’ve video-chatted. Here—this is her.” Lu Wuqi opened a webpage and pulled up a profile.

Seeing the verified information about Miao Miao online, Mrs. Lu finally began to accept it as reality.

Once convinced to stay, Mrs. Lu moved into a hotel near Capital University, and Lu Wuqi made sure they had at least one meal together each day.

Lan Xu adapted easily to this new routine. During meals, she chatted animatedly with Mrs. Lu—much more than Lu Wuqi ever did.

When Mrs. Lu asked about her studies and daily life, Lan Xu would share small annoyances or vent about odd classmates, and Mrs. Lu would respond with patient, practical life advice.

For Lan Xu, it was a refreshing experience. Her own parents were both teachers; whenever she complained at home, it inevitably turned into a one-hour “heart-to-heart talk.”

Compared to that, Mrs. Lu’s warmth and measured tone were comforting.

Lu Wuqi, meanwhile, remained quieter. She had no intention of forming deep friendships and relied instead on her capabilities to silence any detractors after joining a campus club.

As for academics, there was nothing to worry about. Several professors had already said that as long as she showed up for the final exam, she’d pass. One even considered recommending her for national and international programming competitions.

Just as the meal was going smoothly, Lan Xu’s phone began to vibrate. The caller ID read Mom. The warmth of the moment instantly shattered.

“Auntie, excuse me—I need to take this call.” Lan Xu stood up, gripping her phone tightly, and walked toward the restroom before answering.

“Hello, Mom,” she said softly. “I’m having dinner—with a friend.” Her fingers unconsciously scraped at the smooth tile wall beside her.

“Mom, Lu Wuqi is my good friend. Our relationship won’t be changed by outside pressure.”

Her voice gained firmness as she continued, bolstered by the weekly “dividends” Lu Wuqi had been sharing with her. Ten percent of the profits meant about two hundred yuan a week—if that was just a fraction, Lu Wuqi was earning nearly two thousand yuan weekly, around eight thousand a month. There was no way she’d need to borrow money. Mom was worrying too much!

The other end of the line fell silent for a few seconds. Then Lan’s mother asked, “Do you know what’s happening with Lu Wuqi’s father right now? Do you know he was evicted for not paying rent—and that no one knows where he is?”

“That’s impossible!” Lan Xu blurted, her voice rising. “Mom, you don’t have to make things up just to make me stop being friends with her.”

“You always teach your students not to be prejudiced,” she continued, “so please don’t judge Wuqi because of her father. She’s not like that.”

“I’m saying this for your own good!” her mother insisted, her tone growing sharp. “The debt collectors have already gone to her old place! If the landlord hadn’t told them the lease was canceled, they would’ve smashed down the door!”

“I didn’t know that—but that has nothing to do with her. The gambler is her father, not her,” Lan Xu replied firmly.

Lu Wuqi had endured so much without ever burdening anyone else. How could she abandon her now?

Besides, Lan Xu wasn’t stupid. Putting the pieces together, she could now guess what had really happened with that “breakup text” and the claim that Lu Wuqi couldn’t attend college.

“Mom, Wuqi is not her father. Please don’t confuse the two,” she said quietly but resolutely. “We’ve been classmates for three years. I know what kind of person she is, and I trust my own judgment.”

“Her father’s blood runs in her veins! They share the same genes!” Lan’s mother pressed.

“But Aunt Zhou is her mother too, isn’t she? They share the same blood as well,” Lan Xu countered rationally. “If you think children always resemble their parents, then Wuqi clearly takes after Aunt Zhou.”

Lan’s mother opened her mouth but couldn’t find a rebuttal.

She was right—Lu Fu might be her father, but Zhou Fei was also her mother.

“So, you’re not going to listen to your mother anymore?” she said finally, falling back on her authority.

“I am listening,” Lan Xu said gently. “I’m listening to what you used to tell me—to think for myself. Mom, I’m grown up now. I can make my own judgments. You don’t need to control who I befriend anymore.”