The Beautiful, Strong, and Tragic Female Lead is Mine [Transmigration Into a Novel] - Chapter 103

Xie Zhitian had never imagined she’d get to use a “computer” again so soon.

The room in front of her was small but spotless. Six tables were neatly arranged, each holding a computer. They were a bit old, of various brands and models, looking as though they had been painstakingly cobbled together to form this makeshift computer lab.

“This computer is about the same as the one I used as a kid. It must be ten years old,” said Xia Fufeng, sitting in front of a monitor. The screen’s faint glow was reflected in her eyes. “It’s booting up so slowly. It probably hasn’t been used in a long time. It’ll be so laggy.”

Xie Zhitian stared at the startup screen, feeling a strange mix of emotions. “Given our current situation, it’s good enough just to have one.”

With a faint crackle of static, the computer finally booted up, and the home screen appeared.

The apocalypse had a huge impact on the computer and internet industries. This computer was much more limited in function compared to the ones they used to have. Most software that required an internet connection was useless. The only way to communicate online was through a simple chat application developed by District 53, called “Feige.”

The “Feige” icon was a chubby, cartoon-style gray pigeon, placed in the most prominent spot on the desktop. After all, people who came to the network center usually only wanted to chat with acquaintances within the district or transfer files.

Xia Fufeng clicked the “Feige” icon and fiddled with the software for a bit before concluding, “This software can only do text chat and file transfers right now. No wonder the network center is so empty.”

In this era, ordinary people had no electronic files to transfer and no computers at hand. For simple chats, it was far more convenient to just use a public phone booth.

Tang Zhuoran raised her eyes and glanced at the computer in the far corner. “Dr. Meng’s computer must have more functions.”

That computer stood out among the rest. Its ultra-thin curved LCD screen, pristine off-white casing, and brand-new components all screamed high-end. It was said to be a computer that Meng Qiang used exclusively for her work, much more advanced than the others. It was password-protected and could only be opened by Meng Qiang herself. It was also enclosed in a small cubicle, and if the door was shut, no one could see what was on the screen.

Luo Yang looked towards the door and lowered her voice slightly. “I think I hear footsteps.”

The group exchanged glances, then instinctively gathered in front of the computers, staring straight ahead at the screens. They occasionally gestured, pretending to be busy with something.

It had been three days since the alien invasion of Zone B. The news of the robots malfunctioning in Zone B was the talk of the base. Many people who had previously been critical of Meng Qiang had changed their minds, saying she was right to be cautious and that robots were unreliable.

The shift in public opinion relieved Xie Zhitian and the others. They had done some digging and found out that Meng Qiang was scheduled to work at the network center this afternoon, so they came early to wait for her.

However, according to others, Meng Qiang was unwilling to even talk to people she knew, let alone strangers. If they were to go straight to the point, it would seem rude. It was better to pretend it was a chance encounter, say hello, and see how she reacted before making the next move.

And for a workaholic like Meng Qiang, it would be unwise to approach her before she started working. It would be better to wait until she finished and her mind was relaxed before trying to chat with her.

So, Xie Zhitian and the others came to the network center right after lunch, planning to pretend they had some work to do on the computers and then make their move after Meng Qiang was done.

Luo Yang’s feeling was spot on. A short while after she spoke, the door to the room was pushed open.

Xie Zhitian turned slightly, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Meng Qiang walk in. Seeing other people in the room, Meng Qiang visibly paused, as if surprised. But she didn’t seem interested in what the strangers were doing there and quickly regained her composure, walking straight into the cubicle and closing the door behind her.

Time passed minute by minute. As the sky outside the window gradually darkened, the door to the cubicle finally opened again.

This time, Meng Qiang didn’t even look at them, walking straight toward the door.

Xie Zhitian quickly stepped forward to stop her. “Hello, are you Dr. Meng?”

Meng Qiang took two steps forward before slowly stopping. She turned around. “I am. Can I help you?”

Her tone was polite, but it held a distant, cold quality. It was as if she was bound by politeness and morals to answer but desperately wanted to get away from them as quickly as possible.

“It really is you! We thought so,” Xie Zhitian said, taking a step forward. She held out the item in her hands. “Dr. Meng, you work so hard. This is some coffee and tea we brought from our hometown. You can have some to refresh yourself when you’re tired from work.”

The coffee and tea were of high quality, carefully selected from her portable space. The packaging was simple and elegant, and the taste was excellent—a rare find in this world. Anyone who worked overtime and pulled all-nighters would find it hard to resist.

Meng Qiang stood still, her gaze lightly sweeping over the gift box in Xie Zhitian’s hands. “Thank you, but I don’t need these.”

Xia Fufeng observed her expression and added in a soft, quiet voice, “Please, just take it. When we realized you were here, we specifically went back to get it for you. We don’t have any other intentions. We just admire you and want to show our gratitude.”

Normally, after a speech like that, even if the person didn’t accept the gift, their expression would soften somewhat. And Xia Fufeng’s appearance was very approachable, like a sweet and lovely girl-next-door, making it hard for people to be on guard.

But Meng Qiang frowned and took a half-step back. “I’m really not interested. Please don’t try to give it to me again.”

Xie Zhitian took a shallow breath, feeling the situation was a bit tricky. According to their original plan, even if Meng Qiang didn’t accept the gift, she wouldn’t have been so resistant. If the atmosphere had been good, Xie Zhitian would have subtly brought up Guan Qin and the other technicians’ wish to communicate with her.

But in this situation, saying anything more would be a mistake. She couldn’t continue the conversation, so she simply said, “My apologies, we didn’t mean to bother you,” and watched helplessly as Meng Qiang left.

It turned out her decision was the right one because for the next few days, Meng Qiang’s work hours at the network center shifted to their patrol shifts, as if she were deliberately avoiding them.

“It’s okay. If it comes down to it, I’ll make a trip to District 53 and report this to their commander,” Xie Zhitian said to the others, pulling her coat tighter against the howling wind.

According to the base’s schedule, they were on the night shift again today. The sky was dark, the moon was hidden, and the distant lights of the base were like dying fireworks, gradually fading with time.

They had been at the base for over a week. Most of the surrounding aliens had been cleared out, and the number of attacks had significantly decreased. The aliens weren’t completely unintelligent; after realizing that approaching a certain area would lead to an attack, many of them chose to stay away and hunt wild animals instead.

So, even though it was a night shift, there was little pressure, and they passed the time by chatting idly.

“Don’t worry. Ever since that incident in Zone B, they’ve reduced the number and frequency of robot usage. The mining speeds on both sides are pretty similar now,” Luo Yang said. “Let’s wait a little longer. I have a feeling that for someone like Dr. Meng, putting pressure on her from above might not be a good idea.”

Xie Zhitian nodded. “You’re right.”

Perhaps it was the arrogance of a high-level intellectual, but Meng Qiang gave her a sense of stubbornness—if she didn’t want to do something, no one could force her.

Xia Fufeng thought back to their last encounter, feeling completely baffled. She couldn’t help but self-reflect. “Did I say something wrong and offend Dr. Meng? When I said I specifically ran back to get it, did it make her feel pressured? Like it was a heavy burden?”

Tang Zhuoran comforted her. “I don’t think so. A person’s nature is very hard to change. Ultimately, it’s because of Dr. Meng’s personality. She’s not willing to socialize with us, so she doesn’t want to have any entanglements.”

“It’s not just us, is it? I think she doesn’t want to socialize with anyone,” Xia Fufeng sighed, remembering Guan Qin and Yisha’s descriptions of Meng Qiang. “Do you think she might have severe social anxiety? Many scientists have problems with social interactions…”

Before she could finish her sentence, a white shadow darted out of the darkness and jumped straight into Xia Fufeng’s arms.

“Naigao, so you decided to come back,” Xia Fufeng’s attention was drawn away. She patted the little fox’s head with a gentle hand. “You’ve been playing out later and later lately.”

Back in their district, Naigao also liked to run around and play, and receive loving treats from various aunts and uncles. After arriving at the base, with no walls to stop it, it had become even more wild. The night shift was its time to roam freely, galloping happily all over the mountains.

At first, Xia Fufeng was a little worried and didn’t want Naigao to run outside the metal fence. What if it ran into an alien?

But she recalled how Naigao, in its transformed state, played with the aliens like a cat toying with a mouse, and she realized that if it did run into an alien, the alien would be the one out of luck. So she just let it go. Besides, Naigao didn’t like to be cooped up all the time. Hunting aliens outside the base could both exercise its body and ease the pressure on the fighters. Why not?

Naigao lived up to her expectations. It came back with enemy blood on its body every time. Sometimes, it would excitedly bring back an alien’s claw or half a leg, enthusiastically trying to give it to its owner in exchange for praise. After Xia Fufeng scolded it multiple times, it reluctantly gave up this bad habit.

Naigao whined and snuggled up to its owner. Xia Fufeng was tickled by its rubbing. “Alright, alright, let me see where our little darling got dirty today.”

She expertly picked up the little fox, intending to help clean the bloodstains off its fur, but her eyes suddenly stopped, fixed on its front leg.

Tied to the little fox’s left front leg was a scroll of paper, about four to five centimeters long. It was wrapped in a plastic film and bound with a thin red string.

Xia Fufeng froze for a moment, then reached out and took the scroll.

“What’s this?”

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