Is Self-Redemption Really That Hard? [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 2

After leaving the apartment building and riding her electric scooter out of Huafeng Community, Lu Wuqi’s breathing and heartbeat finally began to return to normal.

But the calm indifference she had when she first came here was now completely gone—replaced by a desperate need for money and an acute sense of urgency.

Twenty-three days. How was she supposed to earn seven thousand yuan for a semester’s tuition and fees in just twenty-three days?

And that wasn’t even all of it. She still needed her first month’s living expenses and money for some basic necessities. At the very least, she’d need eight thousand yuan.

No—actually, not just eight thousand. She also had to make up for the scholarship loan that had been diverted. That meant she needed double. She had to earn sixteen thousand yuan.

Lu Wuqi steered her little e-scooter toward the milk tea shop, mentally sketching out a money-making plan as she went.

Perhaps the heavens had finally taken pity on her urgent craving for cash. Orders at the milk tea shop suddenly surged, and by some miracle, Lu Wuqi managed to earn a three-hundred-yuan commission in a single day.

Of course, that came at a price. From morning till night, she worked nonstop—one girl, one scooter, nearly three hundred cups of milk tea delivered. Her thick white T-shirt was soaked through with sweat.

“Huh? You’re not coming tomorrow?” The shop owner transferred the money to her through WeChat, trying to persuade her to stay. “If you’re tired, I can give you more rest breaks. I’ll even bump up your commission rate.”

Lu Wuqi shook her head and handed over the scooter key and helmet.

“I’ve earned enough for a trip with my friend. Thank you for taking care of me these past few days.” She needed to really make money, and working as a milk tea delivery girl wasn’t going to get her there.

Hearing she was going out to have fun, the boss sighed softly, no longer insisting. “Alright, I get it. You young people love to go out and see the world.”

“Here—take this.” The boss pressed a small, powerful flashlight into her hand. “It’s brighter than your phone’s flashlight. Might come in handy when you’re out.”

The milk tea shop closed at ten. At that hour, the streets weren’t deserted, but there were few young women walking alone. A good flashlight could make all the difference.

“Thank you, Boss.” Lu Wuqi accepted the gesture.

Standing in the doorway, she waved goodbye before slinging her crossbody bag over her shoulder and striding off with an easy air.

She’d gone less than fifty meters when she suddenly stopped.

“Ah—seems like I forgot something.” She muttered to herself and turned back toward the shop.

“Lu Wuqi!”

A figure rushed out from the bus stop, grabbing hold of her bag strap and forcing her to stop.

“Xuxu? What a coincidence—what are you doing here?” Lu Wuqi turned around slowly, putting on an innocent smile.

Seeing her play dumb so brazenly made Lan Xu’s jaw tighten. Her fingers twitched with the urge to grab a handful of Lu Wuqi’s arm and give it a vicious twist.

But when her eyes fell on Lu Wuqi’s visibly sun-darkened skin, the irritation gave way to a flicker of concern.

She had watched all day as Lu Wuqi rushed about on that scooter, running endless deliveries from morning to night. Who knew when she’d even managed to eat lunch or dinner?

“Yeah, what a coincidence,” Lan Xu said, keeping her voice even. “So, are you going to tell me now? Why you sent me that text a week ago? Why you decided to,”

She swallowed the last two words. She didn’t want to say them aloud.

Lu Wuqi once again reached out and caught Lan Xu’s wrist. But this time, she didn’t push her away. Instead, she lifted her hand and gently brushed her own cheek against it.

“Xuxu, can I tell you later?” Lu Wuqi looked at her earnestly, her eyes shimmering with light. “I can’t explain it right now, but I regret it. I regret sending that message. I don’t want to break up. I want to be with you.”

The instant her soft cheek brushed against Lan Xu’s hand, the anger that had been burning in Lan Xu’s chest dissipated by half.

It was a gesture they’d agreed on when they first got together—if they ever fought and couldn’t bring themselves to apologize, they would lift the other’s hand and press it to their own cheek as a silent “I’m sorry.”

“But I already saw that message,” Lan Xu murmured, still gripping the strap of Lu Wuqi’s bag tightly. “I can’t just pretend it didn’t happen.”

Given how evasive Lu Wuqi had been that morning, Lan Xu didn’t dare let go. If she did, the girl might bolt—and she was the school’s former 100-meter dash champion, after all.

“What if I write you a ten-thousand-word apology letter?” Lu Wuqi ventured carefully. She had enough problems to deal with already—the real reason for the breakup could wait.

Lan Xu just stared at her. When Lu Wuqi nervously swallowed for the second time, she finally gave a soft hum of agreement.

“It has to be handwritten,” Lan Xu added. “It needs to be heartfelt—no repetition, no copying off the internet, no typos, and no half-hearted effort.”

Lu Wuqi blinked. “Okay.”

She’d never written an apology letter before.

Back in the Lu household, mistakes were punished—there was never even a chance to write one.

“You,” Lan Xu began, then hesitated. “Are you still working here tomorrow?”

When Lu Wuqi didn’t answer, she continued, looking conflicted. “If you want to keep doing part-time work, you could try one-on-one tutoring. Parents of soon-to-be seniors love hiring top scorers as private teachers. You ranked in the top five hundred in the province—you’d be in demand.”

“I don’t know the exact rate, but it should be at least fifty yuan per hour,” she added. “I know someone who’s doing that kind of job. I can send you her contact info.”

Lan Xu had known Lu Wuqi since their first year of high school. Of course, she knew what kind of home life she came from.

Even though Lu Wuqi had hidden her student loan situation well, Lan Xu wasn’t stupid. With good exam scores and an acceptance letter already in hand, what else could possibly be stopping her from going to college?

She knew Lu Wuqi didn’t want to expose her family’s hardship, so instead of offering to lend her money, she simply shared the best earning option she could find after a full day of searching.

Lu Wuqi let out a small “eh” of surprise, then couldn’t resist rubbing her cheek once more against Lan Xu’s hand. “Alright, just send me her contact on WeChat.”

“And don’t you dare ignore my messages again,” Lan Xu warned, frowning. “Even if you don’t see it right away, reply later. Don’t pretend you didn’t.”

Just thinking about the past week made her temper flare again.

That awful feeling when her messages went unanswered—it was like standing at Lu Wuqi’s door for hours and still never seeing her come home.

“Okay.” Lu Wuqi nodded obediently.

She knew she’d messed up. Breaking up out of the blue was one thing, but hiding afterward, hoping Lan Xu would just forget her? That had been stupid—utterly stupid.

Lan Xu gave a small huff, but seeing how sincere Lu Wuqi looked, she finally let go of the strap. “I want to see that apology before school starts. Don’t wait until the last minute.”

She poked Lu Wuqi’s stomach lightly. “If you own up to it early, I might forgive you early.”

“Got it,” Lu Wuqi answered instinctively. Inwardly, she was already calculating—she’d write for an hour each night. Between working to make money, she’d finish that ten-thousand-word handwritten apology.

When she noticed Lu Wuqi drifting into thought, Lan Xu nudged her shoe lightly. “What are you standing around for? It’s late. You’re not planning to sleep outside, are you?”

“I’m going back—of course I’m going back. Let me walk you home first,” Lu Wuqi said.

After a moment’s hesitation, she slipped the small flashlight into her pocket and slowly extended her left hand.

Lan Xu glanced down, the corners of her lips twitching upward.

Still knew to reach for her hand—seemed like Lu Wuqi was truly remorseful this time. Maybe they really could,

Wait. Why had she stopped halfway? Was she an idiot?

“Xuxu, um, before I finish that ten-thousand-word apology, are we still, are we still girlfriends?” Lu Wuqi asked carefully.

Neither the old Lu Wuqi nor her current self had any experience with this sort of thing.

“Idiot,” Lan Xu muttered, voice low. She reached out first and laced their fingers together.

“Xuxu?” Lu Wuqi looked bewildered.

Did that mean she was forgiven? That they were officially back together?

“Friends can hold hands too,” Lan Xu sniffed. The apology wasn’t even a single word in yet—how could she forgive her that easily? She’d sooner dream on.

“Oh.” Lu Wuqi nodded, squeezing her hand in return as they walked toward Lan Xu’s neighborhood.

The summer night air was cooler than during the day, but still thick with heat. After more than ten minutes of walking, their palms grew slick with shared sweat.

The sensation was strange and new to Lu Wuqi. She remembered holding hands, hugging, even kissing Lan Xu before—but memories were nothing like this.

Now, she could feel it—the warmth of another person’s skin, the steady rhythm of her pulse. It was as if the invisible distance between them had momentarily disappeared.

Even sticky with sweat, neither of them wanted to let go.

Maybe this was what holding hands as lovers really felt like.