The Heroine Pays Me to Fall in Love (Quick Transmigration) - Chapter 31

Jiang Zhinan fell hard this time — with a thud, it felt like her very soul had scattered from the impact.

Luckily, the bed beneath her was soft enough to catch her fall, sparing her from adding any new pain to the pounding dizziness already in her head.

She pressed her lips together, silently chanting oh no, oh no, oh no in her mind.

Beside her, Su Jin was still fast asleep. Her long lashes fluttered slightly with each slow breath, carrying the faint sweetness of alcohol. A delicate blush tinted her pale cheeks and the slope of her shoulders, painting a picture so soft and dangerously alluring that it could’ve been straight out of a dream.

Beautiful—too beautiful, really.

But Jiang Zhinan had no time to admire her. From Zhou Ying’s memories, she already knew Su Jin to be proud and aloof—a high mountain flower no one could easily touch. If Su Jin was to wake up now and see this scene, completing her mission later would be practically impossible.

Holding her breath, Jiang Zhinan braced both hands against the mattress and tried to push herself up.

Unfortunately, the alcohol still coursing through her veins had sapped nearly all her strength. No matter how many times she tried to sit upright, her body refused to cooperate, until she was left trembling and completely drained.

“Come on, you’ve got this!” her system chirped encouragingly in her mind. “Okay, when I count to three—one, two, three, push!”

“Please, don’t.” Jiang Zhinan muttered weakly, wanting to decline.

“Don’t what? Listen to me, be good. Ready? One, two, three—go!”

She obeyed, summoning the last of her determination. For a moment, she actually felt a spark of strength rise again—

—but it fizzled out just as quickly.

Her limbs went slack, her body refusing to listen anymore. Jiang Zhinan toppled backward without warning, crashing straight into Su Jin’s chin.

Thump.

Stars exploded in her vision.

“Tch.”

At the same time, a low, displeased sound came from beneath her.

Su Jin had been forcibly awakened by the impact.

Hearing that faint groan of complaint, Jiang Zhinan froze, pressing her lips tight and not daring to make a sound.

“Why am I here?” Su Jin’s voice was hoarse as she slowly opened her eyes. The ache in her jaw made her frown, and a wave of exhaustion washed through her.

Her memory was a blur. The last thing she recalled was receiving a message from someone who claimed to be an independent singer—a fan who had seen her perform and wanted to meet, saying they were captivated by her voice and stage presence.

At first, Su Jin hadn’t planned to meet them. But then the stranger sent her a self-recorded video of them singing and playing guitar, boldly titled “You’ll Regret It for Life If You Don’t Listen.”

The title alone was so over-the-top that Su Jin couldn’t resist clicking on it.

Turned out, the person wasn’t half bad—rough around the edges, but with a decent voice and a bit of raw talent. So she agreed to meet, just for curiosity’s sake.

They met in a cozy little bar, ordered a few drinks, and chatted at length about songwriting and performance.

And then, she must’ve had too much to drink.

The irony wasn’t lost on her. As a bar singer, her alcohol tolerance was normally high—enough to outdrink several men without issue. Yet somehow, she’d been knocked flat tonight.

Unless, someone had tampered with her drink.

By the time that thought flickered through her hazy mind, her consciousness was already slipping. When she finally came to, she found herself here—

—with a strange woman lying on top of her.

Su Jin’s frown deepened. She shoved the woman off, clenched her jaw, and pushed herself upright. Then she grabbed the other’s wrists and pinned her to the mattress, holding her down with unyielding force.

“You again.” Her voice was cold, every syllable edged with annoyance.

“It’s not—” Jiang Zhinan turned her face away, trying to avoid her gaze, her wrists throbbing under Su Jin’s grip.

“Not?” Su Jin gave a short, humorless laugh. Her expression darkened to something nearly stormy.

Seeing her avert her eyes only seemed to irritate Su Jin further. She pulled both wrists together with one hand and used the other to seize Jiang Zhinan’s chin, forcing her to look up and meet her glare.

“Who else could it be?” she said through gritted teeth, a few loose strands of hair brushing over Jiang Zhinan’s cheek and collarbone. “You really are shameless, Zhou Ying.”

Jiang Zhinan suddenly realized the towel wrapped around her must’ve come loose at some point. Her pale collarbones and the curve of her chest were completely exposed under Su Jin’s sharp gaze.

The moment was painfully awkward. Su Jin stared for a beat, then looked away, her expression taut with disdain—as if the sight wasn’t worth her time.

Jiang Zhinan’s face burned. She wanted nothing more than to sink through the floor and disappear.

After a long silence, Su Jin’s cold voice cut through the air again.

“With that body,” she said dryly, “you’ve got a long way to go if you think you can get into my bed. Go train first.”

Jiang Zhinan: “…”

Su Jin released her wrist and braced herself against the bed to stand up.

Even though she had slept for a while, the effects of the drug were still strong—her head was still spinning slightly.

On the table sat the hangover medicine Zhou Ying had intended to take. When Su Jin stood, she happened to see it and went over to take one herself.

Zhou Ying probably hadn’t done anything to her. Su Jin glanced down, roughly straightened her rumpled clothes, then walked to the door and pushed it open.

“Where are you going?” Jiang Zhinan hurriedly asked.

Su Jin ignored her, striding out of the room. Her long hair swept behind her in a graceful arc.

Two people were stationed outside. When they saw Su Jin coming out, they looked surprised and immediately poked their heads into the room. “Boss, how’d it go? Is she asleep?”

“Don’t ask!” Jiang Zhinan shook her head, waving for them to chase after Su Jin. “Keep an eye on her—don’t let her get into trouble.”

“Got it.” The two answered in unison, taking off as if their backsides were on fire.

Still, they were well-trained—before leaving, they remembered to close the door for her.

Now the spacious room was empty, with only Jiang Zhinan left inside.

She rolled over, struggling to pull a pillow into her arms, and buried her face in it. She had never felt so humiliated in her life.

Su Jin had a surprisingly strong grip. Even drunk and weakened, she had still squeezed Jiang Zhinan’s wrist hard enough to leave a red mark that throbbed painfully.

Jiang Zhinan stared at the mark for a few seconds, then dropped the pillow over her face and let out a long, muffled groan.

The night stretched endlessly.

She didn’t know when she eventually fell asleep, but when she opened her eyes again, daylight was already streaming in.

After a full night’s rest, the dizziness had passed, though her head still ached faintly.

Frowning, Jiang Zhinan reached for the phone beside her pillow. Several unread messages and missed calls filled the screen—mostly from Zhou Ying’s business contacts, all labeled with titles like “President So-and-So” or “Sister This”

and “Brother That.”

Jiang Zhinan sighed.

She had barely arrived before being thrown into Zhou Ying’s chaotic mess—and after last night’s ordeal, she’d been thoroughly humiliated by Su Jin. Her pride still stung.

But she was the one inhabiting this body now. If she let her temper ruin everything, she’d be the one suffering the consequences in the end.

She wasn’t foolish enough not to see that.

So, even with her headache, she forced herself to reply to every message, return every call, and politely greet every business partner that needed attending to. By the time she finished, it was nearly noon.

Her stomach grumbled in protest. Realizing she hadn’t eaten a thing, Jiang Zhinan checked the time and decided she should finally go downstairs for food.

She washed up slowly, changed clothes, and at last stepped out of the room—a place that, by now, had left her with more than a few psychological shadows.

Where two people had stood guard last night, now there was only one. When she opened the door, the man looked up. A conspicuous bruise stood out on his face.

“Chen Bin,” Jiang Zhinan called his name. “What happened to your face?”

“It’s nothing.” Chen Bin shook his head, grinning sheepishly as he stood. “So, boss—how’d you sleep? You wanna head back to the company or go home first?”

“Let’s eat something first,” Jiang Zhinan said.

“Sure thing.” Chen Bin nodded and hurried off to get the car.

Just then, his phone rang in his pocket. He pulled it out and answered, and Liu Zhiguo’s voice came loudly from the other end—so loud that Jiang Zhinan could hear every word.

“How’s your face?” Liu asked. “Feeling any better?”

“Ah, much better, much better,” Chen Bin replied quickly, glancing nervously over his shoulder at Jiang Zhinan.

“Hang in there a bit longer,” Liu sighed. “I’ll come relieve you soon. Damn, that woman’s got a real kick—my stomach still hurts from when she nailed me last night. Slept and still haven’t recovered!”

“Right, right!” Chen Bin laughed awkwardly. “You take your time resting. I’ve got something to do here, gotta hang up.”

“Wait, don’t—” Liu’s voice cut off as Chen Bin ended the call.

Behind him, Jiang Zhinan cleared her throat softly. “Chen Bin.”

“Eh?” He turned, looking awkward but smiling. “Yes, boss?”

“Was it Su Jin who hit you?” she asked.

“Yeah.” After a pause, Chen Bin nodded.

Jiang Zhinan exhaled, stepped forward, and pulled out her wallet, counting out a small stack of bills. She handed them to him.

“Go get that checked out when you have time,” she said. “And tell Zhiguo I’ll cover his medical expenses too.”

“Will do, boss. Thanks!” Chen Bin accepted the money gratefully and hurried off toward the car.

Jiang Zhinan followed slowly behind, her thoughts tangled and heavy.

It seemed Su Jin had gone easy on her, at least—she hadn’t laid a hand on her.

Otherwise, she might not have been able to get out of bed this morning.

There’s a saying, isn’t there? Not hitting you is already the last bit of tenderness I can give.