Is Self-Redemption Really That Hard? [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 8.2

After mulling things over all night, Miao Miao called Lu Wuqi again at nine the next morning.

This time, it wasn’t a voice call but a video one.

When the screen lit up and Miao Miao saw that youthful, collagen-filled face, a flicker of envy flashed in her eyes.

Ah, to be that young again.

While Miao Miao silently assessed the girl on the screen, Lu Wuqi was also studying her in return.

She compared the woman’s face to the photos she’d found online yesterday—then, once she was sure, she got straight to business.

Just an eighteen-year-old kid, Miao Miao thought. Even if she’s talented at programming, there’s no way she can hold her own in a business negotiation.

But a few minutes later, her expression changed completely.

Heavens above! What on earth—how can someone from a whole different generation be this terrifying?

That momentum, that diction, that rhythm—she was even harder to handle than their infamously difficult CEO!

Was she really falling behind the times? How could she, a seasoned professional, be outmatched by someone who hadn’t even gone to college yet when it came to discussing corporate strategy?

“Lu Wuqi, are you sure you’re eighteen? You didn’t secretly get some medical-grade cosmetic treatment just to fool me, did you?” Miao Miao wiped the sweat from her forehead, incredulous that she was sweating despite the air-conditioned office.

She might mainly work in tech, but she also had a hand in company management. Usually, when she scolded subordinates, they’d say she was terrifying.

“This is the third time you’ve asked me that,” Lu Wuqi frowned slightly, slipping into the calm, professional tone she used in her previous world. “You’ve seen my ID. As for our collaboration—do you have any additional details to add? If not, draft the contract and send it to me. Once I’ve reviewed and approved it, you can stamp it with your company seal and forward it back. I’ll sign and return my copy to you.”

The only area where Lu Wuqi lacked experience was romance. When it came to making money, however, she was a seasoned veteran.

“Alright,” Miao Miao said, finally conceding. “I’ll discuss it with my partner. Give me three days, a week at most, and we’ll have the first version of the contract ready.”

After more than an hour of discussion, Miao Miao no longer dared underestimate the girl. She decided to follow the company’s standard procedures to the letter and study the terms of the agreement carefully.

“Good. I’ll wait for your update,” Lu Wuqi replied. Once she was sure Miao Miao had nothing more to add, she hung up.

A deal that couldn’t be finalized right away wasn’t urgent. For now, she might as well code a little raffle app—and fabricate a few details while she was at it.

Just as she opened her laptop to start writing code, Miao Miao sent over a payment notification.

I-Love-Cats: [Transfer ¥50,000]

I-Love-Cats: Consider this an advance on your collaboration budget. Once you deliver results, I’ll deduct it from your dividends.

Lu Wuqi: Thank you.

I-Love-Cats: You’re welcome.

I-Love-Cats: You’ve got real talent. I don’t know how your brain works, but stop wasting time taking those tiny freelance orders worth a few dozen yuan.

I-Love-Cats: Take a look at our Yingwei Tech materials when you have time—get familiar with our current products.

Lu Wuqi simply replied with an “Okay”, then neatly accepted the transfer.

With the ¥50,000 advance plus the ¥10,000 her mother had given her yesterday, she now had over ¥61,000 in liquid assets.

She stared at the balance for a while, then decisively closed the online forum she’d been browsing and opened the stock market interface. While keeping an eye on stock fluctuations, she simultaneously worked on the raffle page.

“What did you say? You won second prize in an online raffle—a free medical check-up?” Mother Lu stared at her daughter suspiciously.

“You didn’t fall for a scam, did you? I’ve heard about those hospitals and beauty clinics that use ‘free raffles’ to lure people in, and then they start piling on weird treatments that end up costing thousands!”

Lu Wuqi coughed lightly. “How could that be? I got lucky! There are only a hundred second prizes nationwide, and they’re all for designated top-tier hospitals.”

“I already had a physical exam for the college entrance exam, so I filled in your name instead,” she explained. “The prize must be redeemed within forty-eight hours of registration, or it’ll expire.”

“Is that so?” Mother Lu still looked doubtful, though she relaxed slightly. “Well, if it’s a big hospital, it’s probably fine.”

Even after repeatedly inspecting the raffle page her daughter had made in just two hours, she was still a bit skeptical before finally handing the phone back.

“By the way, Mom, you’re going back to work tomorrow, right?” Lu Wuqi asked, quietly relieved that her little deception had worked.

At least her mother’s anti-scam awareness was solid. She wouldn’t fall for those shady “free beauty care” traps.

“Mm, I already told my boss—I’ll start tomorrow.”

According to her agreement with the kind-hearted boss, the ¥10,000 advance she’d received had to be repaid within five months—¥2,100 per month.

“Then how about we go this afternoon? I’ll help you book an appointment.” Lu Wuqi opened the hospital’s official account and quickly reserved a slot.

Normally, same-day check-ups were hard to book, but luck seemed to be on her side: one available slot popped up for 2 p.m.

Mother Lu wanted to protest but, seeing her daughter had already arranged everything so efficiently, she decided to let it be.

Fine, she thought. I’ll just go and see for myself. Worst case, if it’s a scam, I’ll walk out. Losing a bus fare is no big deal.

If Lu Wuqi could build a fake raffle interface, she could certainly get in touch with the hospital staff ahead of time—and ask them to play along.

A white lie was something most medical workers were willing to tolerate, especially when it came to helping family members get care.

After all, it wasn’t uncommon for hospital staff to quietly waive or “adjust” fees when a child was worried their parents wouldn’t seek treatment because of the cost.

Knowing her mother had kidney issues, Lu Wuqi specifically chose a check-up package that included related tests.

“The other tests are done, but the bloodwork needs to be done fasting. Please come back tomorrow morning,” the nurse said, handing over a stack of forms. “You can pick up the results in three days, or check them through our WeChat account once they’re uploaded.”

“Thank you, doctor,” Lu Wuqi replied politely. As she turned, her gaze caught the strands of gray in her mother’s hair, and she froze.

She was only eighteen, and her mother had given birth at twenty-two. That meant her mother was just forty now. So why did she already have gray hair?

In her past world, even the fifty- and sixty-year-old members of the Lu family still had thick black hair, looking barely middle-aged.

“We just need to come again tomorrow?” Mother Lu asked, peering at the forms. “You checked everything, right? It’s really free?”

“Mom, did you see me pay for anything?” Lu Wuqi said helplessly. “I’ve been with you the entire time. When would I have had the chance to pay?”

That was true—her daughter hadn’t once left her sight. There was no opportunity to pay.

“Alright then. Let’s go home. What do you want for dinner?” Her suspicions dispelled, Mother Lu’s usual warmth returned.

“Fried rice noodles sound good. I haven’t had that in ages.”

“Perfect. Let’s get off one stop early—there’s a market there,” her mother said cheerfully.

The hospital results came back quickly. By the time Lu Wuqi finished writing a 10,000-word apology letter, the blood and CT reports were already online.

Just as she opened them, a familiar landline number flashed on her phone.

She exhaled softly and answered. “Hello, this is Lu Wuqi.”

“Yes, that’s my mother. I accompanied her for the check-up.”

“I understand. I just opened the report.”

“Is further testing necessary? What’s the soonest you can schedule it?”

“Okay. Thank you, doctor. Please arrange it for us—I’ll bring my mother tomorrow.”

She had mentally prepared herself, but when she heard the words “possible kidney tumor,” her heart still clenched painfully.

“Redemption System,” she whispered, “you know what happened to the other me. You should also know what happened to her mother. Tell me everything.”

【Host, the situation is roughly what the doctor said. Your mother’s kidney tumor is malignant.】

【At the time of diagnosis, the doctor recommended immediate surgery while it was still early-stage. But the Lu family was broke—your father was unreliable, your mother was ill, and no relatives would lend money.】

Lu Wuqi’s voice was steady. “And then? I need to know the ending.”

【The other you signed a five-year labor contract with a factory to get an advance payment for the surgery.】

【You know what malignancy means, host. Even after removal, recurrence depends on luck.】

【Maybe it was poor medical skill, maybe just bad fate, but your mother passed away before sixty.】

Lu Wuqi listened in silence. If this had been the first day she arrived in this world, those words wouldn’t have affected her at all.

But now, after spending just a few short days with this woman—feeling the kind of unconditional maternal love she’d never known before—they pierced straight through her chest.

【Host, are you okay?】 the system asked tentatively.

“I’m fine,” she said quietly. “I’m just thinking, maybe when school starts, I’ll take her with me. There are better hospitals and doctors in the capital.”

The news didn’t break her—it only strengthened her resolve.

When you encounter a problem, you don’t despair.

You find a way to solve it.