Miss Wheelchair - Chapter 11

Gu Ci’s home was a penthouse apartment on the west side of the river—one elevator serving two units, prime location, sweeping views.

From the elevator to the front door, the path was smooth, making it easy for a wheelchair to move along. Even the threshold was designed with an accessibility ramp. By the entryway, besides the shoe cabinet, there was a small extra room—Gu Ci’s designated space for switching between wheelchairs.

She used one chair outdoors, and another indoors.

It was no different from how ordinary people changed their shoes when entering or leaving home.

Tan Xin, however, had only a single wheelchair—the one provided by the system.

Xiao Li, ever thoughtful, deftly retrieved an older wheelchair from storage.

“Miss Tan, you can use this one. It’s been around for a while, but it still works perfectly.”

Tan Xin thanked her and, with Xiao Li’s help, transferred from the creaky iron-framed chair into the older one, which still carried a faint trace of Gu Ci’s fragrance.

The apartment was usually occupied by Gu Ci alone.

A live-in housekeeper, Auntie Wang—early forties, quick and efficient—handled the chores. She soon had the guest room tidied up and even gave Tan Xin a tour of the place, explaining how to use the household appliances.

Gu Ci hadn’t returned yet. After leaving the hospital, she had gone straight to the biotech company to handle project matters.

So that was what being a CEO meant—nobody actually had the time to just sit around at home counting money.

A multi-millionaire too busy to enjoy her wealth, how tragic.

After a brief pang of sympathy, Tan Xin turned her mind to business.

Living under the same roof as Gu Ci was a rare advantage she had to make the most of.

Right now, the favorability score stubbornly remained at [-10]. She still had a long way to go.

She messaged Zhang Huiqian. It took more than half an hour before she responded—by calling directly.

“Girl, what now? I’m on set.”

Tan Xin was curious. “Why are you still acting?”

Zhang Huiqian sighed. “Because I’m an actress, darling.”

“I thought all you had to do was focus on romancing Dr. Lu.”

“That’s true, but come on—what modern woman wants a partner with no career of her own? If I just laze around like a good-for-nothing, Lu Ran wouldn’t look at me twice.”

“Fair point. Guess I need to find something serious to do too.”

“Exactly, you need something of your own. By the way, what did you call me for?”

Finally, they reached the real topic.

Tan Xin asked, “Your favorability score with her is over 40 now, right? I was hoping you’d share some tips.”

Zhang Huiqian replied without hesitation. “Didn’t I already tell you? Get a job, or go back to school. You’re a top student—shouldn’t be hard for you.”

“But my score is still negative. She doesn’t even seem interested in learning about my career.”

“Still negative?”

Zhang Huiqian screeched. Tan Xin had to hold the phone away until she was done before cautiously pressing it back to her ear.

“Well, Gu Ci’s personality is just a bit aloof.”

Thinking back to how she first caught Lu Ran’s attention, Zhang Huiqian began strategizing.

“Here’s what you do: play to your strengths, spark her interest.”

Tan Xin’s face fell. “My strength is taekwondo. My leg’s broken.”

“Then forget that. Honestly, the wheelchair situation might even help—you’ll have more common ground with Gu Ci. But what about other strengths? Didn’t you used to love reading?”

“Does memorizing the periodic table count?”

“Why not just say the digits of pi while you’re at it?”

“I can do that too.”

“…”

“Up to two thousand places.”

“Forget the special skills. Let’s focus on finding resonance.”

Tan Xin leaned forward, eager. “So how did you do it with Lu Ran? She’s a doctor and you’re an actress—completely different worlds.”

At that, Zhang Huiqian puffed up with pride.

“What’s the big deal? She spent years in graduate school and didn’t start working until twenty-nine. And I also happen to have a master’s degree in real life. We just chatted about academics.”

Tan Xin was floored. “You have a master’s degree?”

“What? Is that so hard to believe?”

“No, just—didn’t expect it. You really kept that hidden well.”

“Hmph. Why do you think the system chose me as a volunteer? I get to write up experience reports afterward. And who writes better than a master’s student? Way more polished than undergrads, but not as dry and specialized as PhDs—clear, structured, and easy to follow.”

Tan Xin wilted with shame.

She was just an ordinary undergrad. Back in her senior year, she had actually qualified for a guaranteed spot in grad school, but certain things had happened, and she never went.

Now that those problems were behind her and life’s pressures weren’t so heavy, she was starting to think about taking the exams again.

That was partly why, before diving into her “special forces learning plan,” she’d chosen to indulge herself in the system for a while.

She was still mulling this over when Gu Ci finally came home.

Her first stop was the small wheelchair room by the entryway. She went inside and closed the door, while Xiao Li and Auntie Wang remained outside, waiting but not stepping in.

Tan Xin understood why.

The game manual in Five Years in the System, Three Years of Simulation said it plainly: Gu Ci’s pride runs deep. If she can do something herself, she absolutely won’t let anyone else meddle, especially anything to do with her wheelchair.

A stray lock of hair had come loose and lay soft against her coat collar. Gu Ci noticed, removed the clip, and let her hair fall in a silky sweep. Her long fingers smoothed it a few times, twisted it into a loop, and pinned it up again.

Gu Ci’s hair was beautiful.

Not dyed, not permed — just black with a natural dark-brown sheen. It sat with a little lift at the crown, giving her head a nice shape; pinned simply at the nape, her profile looked nearly flawless.

When she finished washing her hands and came out, Gu Ci found Tan Xin staring at her from the wheelchair in the living room. There was no trace of anger or joy in Gu Ci’s expression, and the emotion-meter over her head hadn’t budged.

“Go wash up and come eat,” Gu Ci said.

Tan Xin obeyed at once. It felt oddly domestic — saying something so ordinary in this place gave the two of them a faint sense of cohabitation.

Her chest felt as if it had been stuffed with feathers; it was a strangely full sensation.

By the time she returned, Gu Ci was already seated at the dining table. Catching Tan Xin’s eye, Gu Ci pointed to the table with a look that said, Come sit.

So Tan Xin rolled her wheelchair over obediently.

“Um — thanks for taking me in,” she blurted, trying not to look at Gu Ci because looking would make her forget what she wanted to say.

“You’re welcome.” Gu Ci took a sip of the orange juice that Aunt Wang had just squeezed. “You had nowhere to stay, and my house happens to have a spare room.”

Whenever Gu Ci spoke, Tan Xin’s mouth twitched into a smile and the corners of her eyes lifted; she felt syrup-sweet all over.

“It’s my first time staying with a stranger. Don’t worry — I’ll behave and won’t be any trouble.”

Gu Ci hummed once.

“Your guest room is the second bedroom. You can use the bathroom, shower, and balcony freely. But the study is off-limits.”

She emphasized the last part, half-warning, half-reminder: “There are company and hospital secrets in there.”

If taking out the tracking app had been a slip that revealed something, then here — telling Tan Xin exactly where the secrets were — what would Tan Xin do with that information?

Tan Xin didn’t know what Gu Ci was scheming inside her head. Wanting as much as possible not to be a bother to the person she liked, she answered immediately.

“I won’t go into the study, I promise.”

After a beat she added, “But, I have a question.”

“Ask,” Gu Ci said calmly.

“May I know why you let me move in?”

If Gu Ci only wanted to arrange a place for a patient, there was no need to bring her into the house. Besides, Gu Ci was a cool, distant high-mountain beauty — and her goodwill score toward Tan Xin was still -10. Why would she give her a backdoor into her life?

There had to be some secret motive.

Gu Ci hadn’t expected such a blunt question.

Letting you move in, of course, is to keep an eye on you.

If anything happens, I can pull the surveillance footage as evidence right away.

As a competent spy, some suspicion was necessary. Or, maybe modern spies liked to play dumb to disarm people and win trust?

“What do you think?” Gu Ci tossed the question back.

Tan Xin had no idea.

She stole a quick glance at Gu Ci and saw nothing except that startling beauty — nothing to explain a motive.

There’s no such thing as a free lunch. Someone always wants something in return.

What did Gu Ci want from her?

Beep!

An emotion-meter sound.

Tan Xin hurriedly looked at Gu Ci again.

White +10.

White = curiosity.

Gu Ci was interested in her?

In what way?

Her knowledge?

No — she hadn’t shown off any learning yet.

Her talents?

Unlikely — she hadn’t demonstrated any taekwondo moves or recited the next two thousand digits of pi.

Could it be, Tan Xin’s thoughts leapt to that sudden burst of online rumors today.

Solved.

Gu Ci had seen the rumors getting worse online and decided to take her home to be a— bedmate.

“Aren’t you trying to get me to pledge myself to you?” Tan Xin said, hopeful.

She began to look forward to it.