The Cannon Fodder Crazy Beauty Has Awakened [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 50.2

Jiang Mengyu turned her head slightly, avoiding Gu Lanqiu’s eyes.

Just as Gu Lanqiu thought she had crushed Jiang Mengyu’s resolve, a rapid stream of thoughts suddenly echoed in her mind.

[Lanqiu is so fierce.]

[She’s so beautiful even when she’s scolding me.]

[She scolded me like this in our past life too.]

[I really want to kiss her.]

Gu Lanqiu: ?

She nearly lost her composure.

She didn’t know whether Jiang Mengyu was aware that she could hear her thoughts.

Perhaps in some past life, they really had some connection, and now that Jiang Mengyu had been reborn, Gu Lanqiu had gained the ability to read her mind.

But that wasn’t enough to make Gu Lanqiu view Jiang Mengyu differently.

“Miss Jiang,” Gu Lanqiu’s voice carried a hint of restrained impatience, “I can agree to anything else you ask for except this.”

The water in the cup had cooled. Jiang Mengyu leaned over to place it on the nightstand, the soft clink seeming to sober her slightly. Gu Lanqiu heard her murmur faintly:

“I want to paint.”

Rumors said that in her free time, Jiang Mengyu had mostly stayed in the art studio. The request wasn’t unreasonable, so Gu Lanqiu agreed.

“I’ll have Secretary Zhao bring the supplies. Make a list of what you need and give it to him.”

After the long night, Gu Lanqiu was exhausted. “Do you have any other requests?”

Jiang Mengyu noticed the weariness in her eyes and shook her head.

[Lanqiu doesn’t like me.]

[I have to restrain myself.]

[I can’t make her unhappy.]

Gu Lanqiu thought, Good, it’s better that way. She adjusted her cuff. “Then I’ll take my leave?”

“Mm.”

Gu Lanqiu had arrived at two in the morning and left close to five. Though her demeanor was cold, she had still spent hours with Jiang Mengyu.

Jiang Mengyu curled back under the blankets, yawning. She was tired too.

Outside the ward, however, Gu Lanqiu didn’t leave immediately.

“Keep an eye on her,” she said, her expression weary but firm. “Make sure there are no sharp objects left in the room.”

The nurse nodded. “Don’t worry, President Gu.”

Jiang Mengyu was easy to care for, she rarely spoke and hardly made any demands.

Gu Lanqiu glanced at the nurse, noting the shift in her attitude toward Jiang Mengyu, but she said nothing.

She wasn’t here to monitor Jiang Mengyu like an enemy. She just wanted to know what Jiang Mengyu was up to.

These past two days, she had been extremely busy not only dealing with the aftermath of the car accident but also preparing for an important project that was about to be signed. Gu Lanqiu was swamped, barely able to catch her breath, and inevitably, she had been somewhat neglectful of Jiang Mengyu.

Jiang Mengyu gave her two days to recuperate.

She didn’t stir up any trouble. Aside from sleeping, she spent her time painting. Gu Lanqiu didn’t allow her to leave the hospital, and Jiang Mengyu didn’t raise any objections.

The only one feeling anxious was System No. 031.

Watching Jiang Mengyu lay down a heavy stroke on the canvas, No. 031 let out another long sigh.

[Host, when are we finally going to leave?]

Truly, the emperor isn’t worried, but the eunuch is frantic!

Not leaving meant no contact with other mission targets, and the only one they could reach Gu Lanqiu still refused to give any affection points.

No. 031’s core code was practically smoking from frustration, yet Jiang Mengyu remained utterly composed.

She sat by the window, her porcelain-white fingers gripping the paintbrush, stray strands of hair fluttering gently in the breeze. Her serene and graceful figure resembled a scene straight out of an art film.

But as the perspective shifted to the canvas in front of her, the content of the painting stood in stark contrast to her current demeanor so much so that it could even be called polar opposite.

Thick blacks and reds, chaotic lines and colors, with bright yellows and oranges mixed in, it was enough to make No. 031’s eyes ache.

[Host, what exactly are you painting?]

Why couldn’t it understand?

Jiang Mengyu didn’t explain. With a light flick of her wrist, she added the final stroke. “Don’t rush.”

Gu Lanqiu wasn’t the type to respond to force or coercion, and with the disparity in their power and status, Jiang Mengyu couldn’t push her too hard.

She set down the brush and got up to wash her hands in the bathroom. The red pigment staining her fingertips gradually faded under the running water. Jiang Mengyu lowered her eyes, her expression indifferent. “Soon.”

No. 031 didn’t understand what its host meant by “soon.”

But Jiang Mengyu’s painting soon found its way into Gu Lanqiu’s hands.

This was already the fifth painting Gu Lanqiu had seen from Jiang Mengyu in the past three days.

The previous four were similar in style to today’s, intense colors, exuding an eerie and ominous aura.

Gu Lanqiu had seen Jiang Mengyu’s earlier works, which were soft in brushstrokes, fresh and lively in style, completely different from her current pieces.

“Painting is a projection of one’s inner self, an expression of subconscious thoughts,” the psychologist said, adjusting his glasses. “In psychological art therapy, there’s a method called painting therapy, which utilizes this very principle.”

“Miss Jiang’s mind is deeply repressed. She’s already suffering from severe depression.”

Gu Lanqiu frowned. “She’s resistant to psychological treatment.”

“Has her sleep improved after taking the medication these past two days?”

“Mm.” Gu Lanqiu recalled the nurse’s report that Jiang Mengyu hadn’t had any nightmares recently and gave a slight nod.

“My recommendation is to continue the medication and observe for a while longer.”

“You decide,” Gu Lanqiu said flatly. “When will Professor Markel be available to come to Country Z?”

“The professor plans to come next month. He still has some matters to attend to there.”

“Fine.”

Gu Lanqiu ended the conversation there.

The psychologist looked at her ice-cold expression and couldn’t help but sigh inwardly.

The Professor Markel she mentioned was an internationally renowned psychological expert, particularly skilled in hypnosis.

Was she truly prepared to help Miss Jiang forget those unpleasant experiences?

But before Gu Lanqiu could meet Professor Markel, an unexpected incident occurred.

Jiang Mengyu had another episode.

The caregiver frantically called Gu Lanqiu, who rubbed her temples and checked the time, three in the morning.

“What happened to her this time?”

Another nightmare?

The caregiver’s voice was panicked. “No, Ms. Gu… Miss Jiang, she attempted suicide!”

Gu Lanqiu was instantly wide awake. “What?”

Jiang Mengyu woke up at three in the morning.

The room was silent, the caregiver dozing off. Without disturbing her, Jiang Mengyu stepped lightly out of bed and stood by the window, gazing quietly into the night.

To prevent patients from jumping, the hospital windows were sealed shut, leaving only a narrow gap about the width of a finger.

The night breeze lifted Jiang Mengyu’s long hair, her silhouette lonely and desolate. The sight startled the caregiver, who had just woken up.

After a moment, the caregiver realized the figure by the window was Jiang Mengyu. “Miss Jiang,” she said, standing up. “What’s wrong? Are you thirsty or feeling unwell?”

Jiang Mengyu didn’t answer. With her back turned, the caregiver couldn’t see her face but heard her murmur something softly.

The caregiver hurried closer. Only when she was two steps away did she hear Jiang Mengyu whisper:

“Lanqiu…”

“I miss you so much.”

The caregiver sighed in relief. So, she was just missing Ms. Gu.

Seeing Jiang Mengyu’s pale face, the caregiver felt a pang of sympathy, worried she might spiral again. Gently, she reassured, “Ms. Gu will come tomorrow. Let’s get some sleep tonight, okay?”

Jiang Mengyu remained motionless.

Afraid she might catch a chill but hesitant to touch her, the caregiver reluctantly said, “I’ll call Ms. Gu for you.”

As she turned to leave, Jiang Mengyu suddenly whispered, “Lanqiu, wait for me a little longer, okay?”

“Don’t leave me behind…”

What did that mean?

Before the caregiver could react, she caught a glimpse of Jiang Mengyu raising her hand and plunging something sharp into herself.

The caregiver’s eyes widened in horror as she lunged forward to stop her.

The blade missed by a few inches, stabbing just above the heart. Blood soaked through the hospital gown in seconds, Jiang Mengyu’s face turning even paler. Her hand trembled slightly before she collapsed, unconscious.

“Miss Jiang!”

…

By the time Gu Lanqiu arrived at the hospital, Jiang Mengyu was still in the emergency room.

The caregiver sat with her face in her hands, sobbing uncontrollably, on the verge of a breakdown.

Gu Lanqiu’s expression was icy. “What happened?”

The caregiver looked up, her face haggard. “It’s my fault. I dozed off, and when I woke up, Miss Jiang was standing by the window…”

Gu Lanqiu’s face darkened further. “Didn’t I say no sharp objects were allowed in the room?”

But then she remembered Jiang Mengyu used a craft knife for drawing perhaps she had hidden a blade without anyone noticing.

A vein throbbed at Gu Lanqiu’s temple as she turned to her secretary, Zhao, who had just arrived. “Pull up the surveillance footage.”

Gu Lanqiu had installed multiple cameras in Jiang Mengyu’s room as a precaution. She never expected they’d be needed so soon.

Secretary Zhao quickly pulled up the surveillance footage. One of the cameras was positioned very close to Jiang Mengyu, capturing her suicide attempt with chilling clarity.

In the video, Jiang Mengyu’s eyes were vacant, unfocused, it was impossible to tell what she was looking at. The despair in her gaze was heartbreaking.

“Lanqiu…”

“Don’t leave me!”

Gu Lanqiu clearly heard Jiang Mengyu’s murmurs. Recalling Jiang Mengyu’s earlier plea of “Don’t die,” and seeing her current state of deep distress, a thought struck her.

If Jiang Mengyu wasn’t lying, perhaps in their past life, she had died right before Jiang Mengyu’s eyes?

Was that why Jiang Mengyu now sought to follow her in death?

Gu Lanqiu found it hard to believe.

Yet, Jiang Mengyu’s act of stabbing herself had been so resolute, without the slightest hesitation just like that night when she had driven her car into her, carrying the same desperate, self-destructive fury.

The psychologist had said she was deeply repressed.

If Jiang Mengyu truly was reborn and had endured immense trauma before her rebirth, it was entirely possible for her to spiral into confusion, unable to distinguish reality from illusion.

Last time, it was nightmares. This time, she had taken it further directly plunging a knife into herself.

Thankfully, the caretaker had discovered her in time.

If no one had seen her, would she have just died like that?

Gu Lanqiu closed her eyes in frustration. She couldn’t simply stand by and watch her savior throw her life away.

What exactly did Jiang Mengyu want?

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