Is Self-Redemption Really That Hard? [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 5

When the video call connected, the first thing that appeared on the screen was Lan Xu’s fair face tinged with a healthy blush. Judging by her still-damp hair draped over her shoulders, she had just come out of the shower.

“Xuxu,” Lu Wuqi called softly. Remembering the stern warnings she’d received before, she quickly added, “I didn’t ignore your messages—I was still typing a reply.”

“I know. It’s just easier to talk over video,” Lan Xu replied, propping her phone on a stand so she could free her hands.

Her gaze first lingered on Lu Wuqi’s image on the screen, then drifted to the background—to the furniture on either side, and finally to the fan spinning back and forth.

In this heat, she’s not using the air conditioner? Tonight’s supposed to be stifling hot.

“Lu Wuqi, didn’t you have a part-time job today?” Lan Xu asked, pulling her attention back.

“I did, but I didn’t go to the milk tea shop, and I haven’t contacted the person you recommended yet,” Lu Wuqi admitted honestly. “I found some coding gigs on a forum instead. I spent the day writing code at an internet café.”

“Coding? You can actually make money doing that?” Lan Xu blinked in surprise. “You’re not falling for those ‘earn five hundred a day from typing at home’ scams, are you?”

“I’m not that gullible,” Lu Wuqi said quickly. “I’m just helping people fix small bugs and write simple programs.” It was the same excuse she’d used earlier to reassure her mother.

Lan Xu nodded, half-believing, half-doubtful. “So, you were coding at the internet café today. Are you going back tomorrow?”

“Yeah. I’ll be going there for the next while,” Lu Wuqi replied. Seeing the faint worry in Lan Xu’s eyes, she opened her drawer and pulled out her journal.

“Xuxu, I’ve already started on the apology letter. I’ve written a thousand words so far—want to take a look?” She waved the notebook in front of the camera.

Lan Xu was tempted but quickly steeled herself, keeping her tone firm. “No. I don’t read one-thousand-word apologies—I only read ten-thousand-word ones.”

“Don’t change the subject,” she continued. “Which café are you going to? Is it far from home?”

She couldn’t help wondering if Lu Wuqi was trying to distract her with that so-called apology letter. In weather this hot, anyone who’d rather run a fan than turn on the AC probably wouldn’t want to spend hours paying five or six yuan an hour at a café.

“Lequ Internet Café. Not far—just the next street over,” Lu Wuqi replied earnestly. “Xuxu, are you sure you don’t want to look at my reflection essay? If you’re not satisfied, I can revise it right away.”

Her logic was simple: it was better to get feedback after a thousand words than to realize at ten thousand that she’d gone off track.

Lan Xu frowned slightly, more convinced than ever that Lu Wuqi was trying to divert her attention. “No. When are you going tomorrow? How long will you stay there?”

“Probably around eight. I’ll take breaks for meals and rest, so about eight to five,” Lu Wuqi answered, suddenly feeling like she was reporting her work schedule instead of going to an internet café.

“Alright. If I have time, I’ll come by and check,” Lan Xu said. Even with those precise details, she still wasn’t entirely convinced.

“Okay! Just let me know when you’re close, and I’ll come pick you up,” Lu Wuqi replied, genuinely happy. She was already wondering if she should bring her journal along for Lan Xu to review in person.

Once they were done discussing the job, Lan Xu’s concern shifted into a slightly awkward kind of care—half scolding, half soft. She kept reminding Lu Wuqi she still hadn’t forgiven her, while quietly asking about her university plans.

This time, Lu Wuqi caught on to the real intent behind her girlfriend’s questions. Seizing the chance, she began outlining her university life plans—hoping to dispel Lan Xu’s lingering doubts that she might skip college altogether.

“I’ll focus on studying first. Maybe join some clubs related to design and programming to build up experience,” she began confidently.

“I’ll keep doing online freelance work. If I meet like-minded people, maybe we can develop useful software together.

If everything goes well, by junior or senior year, we could even start a studio—or maybe a small company.”

At first, Lan Xu listened with satisfaction. Hearing Lu Wuqi talk so clearly about her future meant she was serious about school.

But as the speech went on, Lan Xu gradually realized that her name—or any trace of them—was nowhere in Lu Wuqi’s grand plans.

Watching her girlfriend speak with such enthusiasm, Lan Xu’s expression subtly shifted. She didn’t voice her displeasure; instead, she quietly looked away and pulled a book from the shelf, flipping it open as if absorbed in reading.

“Xuxu?” Realizing something was off, Lu Wuqi paused mid-sentence and asked carefully, “Is there something wrong with my plan?”

“Oh, nothing. It’s fine—very well thought out,” Lan Xu replied casually, her eyes still on the page.

Lu Wuqi blinked, puzzled. She went over her words in her head—had she gone too far? She’d already toned things down! She hadn’t mentioned stock trading, or finishing a game on her own, or landing an investment worth millions.

Then her gaze fell on the journal lying beside her. A light went off in her head, and she said with utmost sincerity, “Xuxu, if everything goes smoothly, let’s get married after we graduate, okay?”

“Married? We’re not even a couple right now. We’re just friends,” Lan Xu huffed.

Idiot! It took her a whole minute to even think of me. I’m not marrying someone who forgets I exist!

“I understand,” Lu Wuqi said earnestly, instantly switching tactics. “I’ll finish that ten-thousand-word apology letter as soon as possible. Starting tomorrow, I’ll write three thousand words a day—so in three days, I’ll have it done for you!”

“Oh.” Lan Xu’s tone remained indifferent. “Then do your best.”

“It’s getting late. Go wash up and sleep—you still have to get up early tomorrow.” Lan Xu closed her book, picked up her phone from the stand, and without hesitation said, “Good night.”

She ended the call in one smooth motion, not giving Lu Wuqi even a second to speak.

Staring at the words Call Ended on her screen, Lu Wuqi felt a wave of frustration rise in her chest.

How could she forget about her girlfriend in the middle of planning her future?

Would staying up all night to write a reflection letter help cool her girlfriend’s temper?

“Hey, Redemption System—you kept saying you were here to help me, right? Now would be a great time to actually do something useful.” Lu Wuqi had absolutely no experience coaxing a girlfriend, and before that breakup text appeared, they’d never even had a real fight.

The only disagreement she could remember was when they’d argued over college and majors. Lan Xu wanted to listen to her parents and go to a normal university near the capital that trained teachers.

But Lu Wuqi thought Lan Xu deserved a better school and a better major. Even if she wanted to be a teacher later, she could always take the qualification exam—there was no reason to limit herself just for the title of “teacher” and give up on Capital University.

That time, Lu Wuqi had “won.” She enrolled in the Computer Science department at Capital University, while Lan Xu entered the Literature department.

【Host, you already know I’m a beginner system. All I can tell you is that your current savings are 986 yuan, and you’re still very, very far from affording tuition.】

Lu Wuqi: “…”

Right. If she couldn’t even solve her own problems, how could a clueless system possibly help her?

In the end, she pulled out her phone, scrolled through her sticker packs for a while, and finally sent a “goodnight puppy” emoji to Lan Xu.

By a little after eight in the morning, the internet café was unusually quiet. Except for a few people who had stayed overnight, there were only empty seats and a handful of customers napping at their tables under the air conditioning.

Lu Wuqi was once again in a single-person booth, but this time she hadn’t ordered a drink. Instead, she carried in a 1.5-liter bottle of chrysanthemum tea.

After logging into her usual websites, she started typing quickly across the keyboard, turning lines of code into small streams of income.

When it came to early-stage capital accumulation, Lu Wuqi wasn’t picky at all—she took on everything from twenty-yuan gigs to two-hundred-yuan ones. By the time the clock hit 11:30, she’d earned 623 yuan, bringing her savings back into four-digit territory.

Stepping out of the café, she was immediately hit by the blazing summer heat. She took out her phone and opened her chat with Lan Xu, only to see that their conversation had stopped at the usual morning greeting.

Lu Wuqi had said Good morning, and Lan Xu had replied with the exact same two words—plus a period.

That made Lu Wuqi seriously suspect that, if they hadn’t promised each other to always reply when they saw each other’s messages, Lan Xu probably wouldn’t even bother to give her that much.

【Host, have you realized something?】 The Redemption System couldn’t help but pop up.

“What realization?” Lu Wuqi raised an eyebrow.

Had she done something wrong again? She hadn’t even done anything yet, had she?

【Host, you only sent Lan Xu a ‘Good morning.’ So why do you think her sending you the exact same ‘Good morning.’ is perfunctory?】 the system reasoned. 【When you feel she’s being perfunctory, did you ever consider that she might feel you were being perfunctory too?】

Lu Wuqi froze for a moment.

Well, when you put it like that, it actually made sense.

Realizing her mistake, she immediately decided to fix it. Slinging the large water bottle on her wrist, she lowered her head and started furiously typing with both thumbs.

Lu Wuqi: Xuxu, good afternoon. I just came out of the internet café. Want me to come find you so we can go eat lunch at my place? If everything goes as planned, today’s lunch is beef noodles. My mom’s braised beef is seriously amazing.

After finishing her forty-two-character message, punctuation and all, Lu Wuqi hit send and leaned against the café wall, waiting eagerly for Lan Xu’s reply.

Buzz—buzz.

Lan Xu’s reply came almost instantly.

Lan Xu: Idiot.

Lan Xu: Look up.