Is Self-Redemption Really That Hard? [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 21.1

The person Luo Wuqi ignored wasn’t overlooked by the Redemption System.

Barely twenty meters after she left, the system—silent until now—suddenly came back to life.

【Host, did you notice that freshman just now?】

Luo Wuqi halted mid-step and instinctively looked back.

She saw the same sophomore volunteer handing his red vest to another person, seemingly arranging for them to take over the position at the museum entrance.

“What about him? Does he have anything to do with me?” Luo Wuqi narrowed her eyes slightly, memorized both of their faces, then turned away and continued forward.

【Host, do you still remember what I told you about Lan Xu’s original fate?】 The Redemption System’s voice echoed in her mind. 【I can’t help you lock onto the corresponding person in advance, but once you interact with them, I can give you a reminder.】

Luo Wuqi’s steps didn’t falter outwardly, but her eyes darkened instantly. “You’re saying that freshman from earlier is the one who caused Lan Xu’s tragic ending?”

【Host, ever since your arrival, this world has already changed. So please—don’t do anything unlawful.】 The system, sensing its host’s shifting mood, hurriedly warned her.

“I won’t. I’ve never done anything like that.” Luo Wuqi couldn’t help glancing back again.

That freshman from the foreign languages department was now helping maintain order at the museum entrance, gesturing animatedly as he communicated with a group of foreign tourists.

After withdrawing her gaze, Luo Wuqi quickened her pace, bought two small folding stools, and jogged back toward the museum.

“Hello, may I see your ID?” When she returned, the freshman stopped her.

“Duan Qian, Luo’s with us,” another volunteer explained, smiling at Luo Wuqi. “Her ID’s already been scanned once—you can let her through.”

“Really? I didn’t see her name on the list,” Duan Qian said, his eyes lingering briefly on Luo Wuqi. Noticing she was about as tall as he was, he quickly dismissed certain assumptions.

“Would you like to check again?” Luo Wuqi lifted the two stools slightly, meeting his gaze head-on.

Duan Qian wasn’t short—about 178 cm, or 180 with shoes—but his posture was loose, giving the impression of someone who couldn’t quite stand straight.

After only three seconds of eye contact, he was the first to look away, coughing twice to hide his embarrassment. “Cough, cough—since you’re with our group, no need to check.”

“Thank you.” Luo Wuqi nodded politely to the other volunteer and walked in without looking back.

Duan Qian’s eyes followed her retreating figure for a few seconds before he asked quietly, “That Luo girl—is she also a freshman? She seems kind of hard to approach.”

“She is. She’s extremely talented—our professor mentions her all the time in class,” his companion replied. “Ask any of the freshmen in our department; everyone knows who Luo Wuqi is. She’s really impressive!”

Duan Qian nodded vaguely. For someone to become so well-known within a month, she must indeed be exceptional. Maybe he should try to befriend her.

Back inside the exhibition hall, Luo Wuqi had no idea that a brief encounter had already made Duan Qian evaluate her from every angle—and conclude that she was worth befriending.

After placing the folding stools neatly in the corner, Luo Wuqi sat shoulder-to-shoulder with Lan Xu, chatting idly while slacking off.

“Huh? Duan Qian?” Lan Xu said, twisting the cap off her water bottle and thinking hard. “That name sounds familiar. He should be part of our Youth Volunteer Association too.”

“Why the sudden interest? Did he do something noteworthy?” she asked curiously.

“Nothing much,” Luo Wuqi replied. “He just replaced the volunteer at the gate. I was curious, that’s all.”

Once she confirmed that Duan Qian hadn’t yet crossed paths with her girlfriend, she smoothly changed the subject.

There weren’t many visitors during the morning hours, so the two idled until half past eleven, when it was time for lunch.

The museum wasn’t far from a busy food street, so instead of boxed lunches, each volunteer received a 20-yuan meal allowance to eat wherever they liked.

Lunch break lasted an hour and a half. As soon as Lan Xu got her allowance, she grabbed Luo Wuqi and dashed toward the food street.

“Ai Jiaxin told me there’s this amazing zhajiangmian place near the museum. The shop’s small, but it’s been around for at least twenty years. She said it’s super authentic!”

Lan Xu’s eyes darted from sign to sign until they landed on an old-fashioned wooden plaque. Her face lit up as she snagged the last open table.

“Boss, two bowls of the house special zhajiangmian (fried sauce noodles)!” she ordered immediately, quick as lightning.

“Got it, just a moment!” the owner—also the waitress—called back.

“Good thing we were fast, or we’d be waiting outside,” Lan Xu said, exhaling as her heartbeat slowed.

Luo Wuqi unscrewed a water bottle and handed it to her. “Next time, let me queue instead. I’m not an official volunteer—leaving early’s no problem for me.”

“Oh, right! I totally forgot!” Lan Xu laughed, patting her forehead before taking a sip of water. “You’re always with me, so I just assumed you were one too.”

Before they could chat much more, a group of seven or eight people in red vests entered the shop—other volunteers, just a bit slower than them.

Seeing there were no open seats, most of them left. Only Duan Qian remained at the door.

After a few seconds’ hesitation, his gaze locked on Luo Wuqi. He walked toward her with a confident smile.

“Hey, the shop’s full—mind if I share your table?” he asked, stopping beside her. “You remember me, right? I’m the volunteer from the museum gate.”

“I remember,” Luo Wuqi replied flatly.

Lan Xu looked up and, noticing his vest, smiled politely. “Hi, I’m Lan Xu. And you are?”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Duan Qian, first-year in Foreign Languages,” he said easily, sitting down. “Did you order already? This place has great zhajiangmian—I used to eat here often in high school.”

“My roommate said the same thing. We’ve ordered,” Lan Xu replied warmly. She had no idea what the future held and saw Duan Qian merely as a fellow volunteer earning service hours.

Duan Qian had intended to chat with Luo Wuqi, but after her curt reply, she turned all her attention to Lan Xu—didn’t speak, didn’t even glance at him again.

Realizing that, he decided not to push it and instead started chatting with the friendly and gentle Lan Xu, occasionally trying to loop Luo Wuqi into the conversation.

“Xuxu, your noodles are here—careful, they’re hot.” Luo Wuqi placed a bowl in front of her and handed over chopsticks.

“Thanks.” Lan Xu sang, dragging out the syllable as she took them and began to mix her noodles.

Duan Qian shifted his posture awkwardly. After ten seconds of silence, he tried again, “Lan Xu, do you—”

“Xuxu, mine’s mixed already. Try mine first.” Luo Wuqi cut in smoothly. “The seaweed soup’s free—if you want more, I’ll grab it.”

“Okay. You eat too.” Lan Xu didn’t think twice, naturally accepting the bowl.

Duan Qian chuckled weakly. “Luo Wuqi, you must eat zhajiangmian a lot—you mix it really fast.”

“Mm.” Luo Wuqi gave a noncommittal hum, stirred her own bowl twice, and started eating quietly.

Her indifference was so blatant that even Lan Xu noticed. Though she didn’t know the reason, that didn’t stop her from mirroring her girlfriend’s attitude—

quietly enjoying her meal and treating Duan Qian like air.

Duan Qian’s food hadn’t arrived yet, and with no conversation to cling to, he could only pull out his phone to hide the awkwardness.

“Luo Wuqi, I’m full. Want to walk around?” Lan Xu asked cheerfully after cleaning her bowl.

“Sure.” Luo Wuqi scanned the QR code, paid the bill, and immediately took her hand to leave.

Feeling kind, Lan Xu waved back toward Duan Qian. “Bye!”

Duan Qian opened his mouth, but all he saw was their backs as they disappeared down the street.

Weird. He hadn’t said anything wrong, had he? Why were they both so cold toward him?

Clicking his tongue in frustration, he pulled up the volunteer group chat, found Lan Xu’s name, and hesitated over whether to send a friend request.

She had waved goodbye, right? That meant it wouldn’t be too forward.

Comforting himself with that logic, Duan Qian confidently sent the request—with his real name in the verification note.

Meanwhile, Lan Xu, who was busy asking her dorm group for more food recommendations, saw the notification pop up and instinctively turned to Luo Wuqi.

“Luo Wuqi, do you not like Duan Qian?” she asked. “You just met him.”

“I don’t,” Luo Wuqi said simply. “I don’t like the way he looked at me. There was no respect in his eyes.”

Lan Xu thought back. She couldn’t recall his exact expression, but hearing that, she could easily imagine it—and the thought alone made her frown.

“Now that you mention it, yeah, there was something off about his gaze.” Her tone carried a trace of irritation.

Without hesitation, she tapped “Decline” on the friend request. “Ai Jiaxin said there’s a shop here that sells really good lü dagun (sticky rice rolls). Want to grab two?”

“Two? Can you finish that?” Luo Wuqi asked sincerely. “You already had two bowls of soup earlier.”

“Then one! I’ll take a bite, and you can have the rest!” Lan Xu amended quickly. “They probably have small portions anyway.”

Luo Wuqi smiled. “Okay. If we’re too full, we’ll walk it off first. We’ve got an hour and a half break—plenty of time to digest.”

Lan Xu saved the list of recommended restaurants her roommate Ai Jiaxin had sent, turned off her phone screen, and slipped it back into her pocket. Then she wrapped her arm around Lu Wuqi’s again.

“Let’s just look around first. The volunteer activity ends around four in the afternoon—after that, we can explore the rest!”

Lu Wuqi smiled. “Okay.”

Duan Qian’s appearance didn’t dampen their good mood in the slightest. After wandering through the food street, the two even strolled down a slightly farther antique street.

They didn’t buy anything, but for the pair who had never been to such a place before, just browsing was more than satisfying.

“Wuqi, if I study the real artifacts in museums more often, do you think I could train my eye well enough to spot hidden treasures one day?” Lan Xu mused as she sat back down on her folding stool.

“Maybe,” Lu Wuqi said thoughtfully, stroking her chin. “But that antique street’s been around for ages—any genuine pieces have probably been snatched up by the experts long ago.”

In her previous life, Lu Wuqi had owned plenty of antiques herself, but most had been gifts or bought at auction. Authenticity was never her concern—she had experts working for her to handle that.

“True,” Lan Xu sighed. “We should probably stick to buying handicrafts.”

Lu Wuqi slipped an arm around her girlfriend’s shoulders, letting her lean closer. “Mm. Anyway, spending more time studying museum collections is better. At least those are guaranteed to be genuine.”

By the afternoon, the museum was a little more crowded than it had been in the morning, so Lan Xu didn’t sit for long. When a pregnant woman and an elderly visitor came in, she and Lu Wuqi gave their folding stools to them without hesitation.

After all, once their volunteer shift ended at four, they planned to keep wandering around. Better to do a good deed than carry extra baggage later.

When it came time to sign out, Lan Xu approached the volunteer coordinator. “I won’t be returning to campus with the group,” she said politely.

“Alright, just remember to stay safe,” the coordinator said, marking her name on the list. “Volunteer hours will be updated Monday or Tuesday—keep an eye on the student portal, and let us know if anything looks off.”

Lan Xu nodded. “Got it, thank you, senior.”

“Senior, can I ask you something?” Lu Wuqi spoke up beside her.

“Of course,” the older girl said. “What’s on your mind?”

“If I’m not part of the Youth Volunteer Association, is there any way I can still join your activities?” Lu Wuqi asked sincerely.

“Well,” the senior hesitated. “Spots are usually reserved for members first. But for larger-scale events—say, ones with over a hundred volunteers—we sometimes open a few slots to outsiders.”

“If you need more hours, you can also watch for opportunities within your department,” she added. “Those are usually prioritized for students in your major.”

“Alright, thank you, senior.” Lu Wuqi smiled politely, then asked as if offhandedly, “By the way, there aren’t any incidents of older members bullying freshmen in the association, right?”

“Hm?” The senior raised an eyebrow, immediately catching the subtext. “Did something like that happen today?”

“Not exactly,” Lu Wuqi said slowly. “There was a senior from the Spanish department who asked Xuxu to work at the entrance, but he said he couldn’t transfer her volunteer hours. Xuxu refused, and he seemed a bit unhappy. He even muttered something in a foreign language at us. That won’t be a problem, will it?”

The coordinator’s brows knitted together. “I see. I’m sorry you had to experience that. Add me on WeChat—if something like this happens again, tell me right away and I’ll handle it.”

“Wouldn’t that be too much trouble for you?” Lan Xu asked a little awkwardly.

“Not at all. I’m the vice president of the association—it’s my responsibility to take care of things like this.” The senior took out her phone and added Lan Xu on WeChat.

“We’re a volunteer organization, not a place for people to throw their weight around,” she said firmly. “Volunteering is already unpaid—I won’t let anyone make it unpleasant for you.”

After leaving the group, Lan Xu and Lu Wuqi walked hand in hand toward another food street.

“Wuqi,” Lan Xu said softly, “thank you for standing up for me back there.”

Lu Wuqi smiled. “You don’t need to thank me. Standing up for my girlfriend is the least I can do.”

“Alright then.” Lan Xu tugged on her arm playfully. “Now, bend down a little.”

“Hm?” Lu Wuqi slowed her steps and leaned down obediently.

Lan Xu quickly glanced around to make sure no one was paying attention, then rose on tiptoe and kissed Lu Wuqi on the corner of her lips.

“Ahem, that’s your reward,” she said afterward, eyes fixed forward. To hide her embarrassment, she tugged Lu Wuqi along. “Come on, I think I saw grilled squid up ahead—I want some.”

Momentarily stunned, Lu Wuqi stumbled a step before catching up, one hand instinctively touching the spot where she’d been kissed.

So soft and it even smells nice?

She swallowed, the corners of her mouth lifting unconsciously as she looked at Lan Xu with an even softer gaze.

Such a wonderful girlfriend—she had to make sure they stayed together forever, maybe even get married someday.

“Alright,” Lu Wuqi said lightly, “one skewer or two?”

Before they knew it, October was coming to an end. With the mid-November sports festival approaching, various student departments and class sports committees were all getting busy.

In Lan Xu’s Chinese department, finding girls to sign up was no challenge at all—female students outnumbered the males two to one. Since Lan Xu wasn’t athletic, she didn’t join any events.

The situation in Lu Wuqi’s computer science department, however, was the complete opposite. There were fewer girls to begin with, and even fewer who were good at sports.

When the class sports rep found out that Lu Wuqi had won a sprint championship back in high school, he practically burst into tears of joy. He blocked her at the classroom door, clutching the freshly printed registration form.

“Lu! Please save me! The department says each class has to fill every single event! I need your help—my life depends on it!” The nearly 1.9-meter-tall rep looked pitiful, which somehow made the scene even funnier.

“How many events can each person sign up for?” Lu Wuqi asked. “And do the bonus credits count toward volunteer hours?”

“Two individual events per person, team events unlimited!” the rep said quickly, his eyes brightening. “And yes, they do! Top eight finishers get both credits and volunteer hours! Theoretically, if you win two individual first places, that’s enough to meet the minimum graduation requirement!”

“Perfect,” Lu Wuqi said. “Which events still need people?”

“One hundred meters, eight hundred, and three thousand,” he said, checking the list. “How about one sprint and one long-distance?”