The Heroine Pays Me to Fall in Love (Quick Transmigration) - Chapter 32

Before Zhou Ying found success in business, she had gone through a stretch of truly grueling years.

At that time, she had no money, no friends, no family—barely enough to get by. Each day was a struggle to afford even her next meal.

The only constant companion through those hard days was a small noodle shop tucked deep inside Xingfu Road.

The noodles there were cheap—just five yuan a bowl—but the fragrance of the broth, the generous heap of seasonings, and the thick slices of beef made it feel like a small luxury. Whenever Zhou Ying was worn out, she’d stop by the shop for a bowl of noodles, treating it as a rare comfort in her bleak life.

Now that she’d turned her fortunes around and become a CEO, she’d tasted every delicacy imaginable—spicy, savory, and sweet—but she still found herself, from time to time, craving that old familiar flavor.

Chen Bin knew this quirk of hers well. So unless Zhou Ying clearly said she wanted to eat somewhere else, he’d usually take the initiative to bring her straight here.

Inside the car, Jiang Zhinan leaned back and half-closed her eyes, watching the scenery flash past the window.

This world wasn’t all that different from the one she’d come from—bustling streets, endless streams of cars, crowds lost in their own noise and motion.

It was vibrant to the extreme and yet, strangely desolate at the same time.

It made her sigh a little.

After a while, the car pulled up in front of the noodle shop. Chen Bin quickly got out to open her door.

The place was an old establishment, and since it was right around mealtime, it was packed with people.

Chen Bin hurried inside to secure a seat, then waved energetically at her from across the room.

“Mm.” Jiang Zhinan acknowledged softly and walked straight in, sitting down without ceremony.

Chen Bin chuckled and went off to order. Left with nothing to do, Jiang Zhinan casually pulled out her phone and started scrolling.

She only managed to swipe twice. Just as she was about to scroll again, a hand suddenly reached out from behind her and clicked the screen dark.

Startled, Jiang Zhinan instinctively turned around—only to find herself face-to-face with Su Jin.

Long lashes, deep eyes, a straight nose, beauty, magnified several times over.

“It’s you again.” Jiang Zhinan blinked, still in shock, but before she could speak, Su Jin’s voice cut in coldly.

“Persistent, aren’t you? Is tailing me that much fun?”

Tailing her?

Jiang Zhinan’s eyes went wide.

“I just came to eat,” she said, trying to sound righteous—but her gaze flickered toward a nearby table behind her, where a guitar sat in plain view.

Ah. That explained everything. She and Chen Bin had somehow walked right into the trap without even realizing it.

Her heart sank.

Caught red-handed, Jiang Zhinan could only press her lips together, her face betraying her discomfort.

Su Jin gave a cold snort and sat down across from her.

“What are you doing?” Jiang Zhinan asked blankly.

“What does it look like? Since you’re so eager to spy on me,” Su Jin smiled thinly, though her eyes were icy, “I’ll give you a front-row seat.”

Her tone was sharp enough to sting.

Jiang Zhinan clicked her tongue inwardly, muttering in her head to the system about what kind of ridiculous mission target she’d been saddled with this time.

“You need to learn to appreciate beauty,” the system replied soothingly. “Maybe she’s not as bad as you think. Try getting to know her better?”

Get to know her better?

Jiang Zhinan looked up, only to meet Su Jin’s fierce, almost murderous gaze.

They’d barely shared one fleeting encounter, and Su Jin already looked like she wanted to strangle her.

If she really got to know her, she might not live long enough to regret it.

Feeling uneasy, Jiang Zhinan asked the system in her head if she could switch to another world.

“No,” the system said flatly, leaving no room for argument.

Jiang Zhinan: “…”

Jiang Zhinan sighed. Just as she was about to grumble some more, Chen Bin returned with two steaming bowls of noodles.

The moment he saw Su Jin, he froze in shock—and for some reason, his face twitched, like it suddenly hurt.

“You go grab something to eat too,” Jiang Zhinan said quickly, waving him away before things got awkward. “Wait for me in the car when you’re done.”

“R-right,” Chen Bin stammered and fled the scene like a man escaping a battlefield.

And just like that, only the two of them remained at the small square table.

Jiang Zhinan didn’t look up. She pulled her bowl closer, picked up her chopsticks, and lifted a few strands of noodles, blowing on them gently.

The sunlight streaming through the glass door fell across her face, wrapping her in a soft, warm glow.

Su Jin said nothing. She simply sat across from her, watching.

Under the light, Jiang Zhinan looked nothing like the high-powered executive she supposedly was—more like a young woman freshly stepping into society, clear-eyed and unguarded.

There was a kind of innocent charm in the way she puffed out her cheeks to cool her noodles, almost endearing.

And yet, Su Jin thought, how could someone with such a face hide so much deceit beneath it?

The brief ease in her expression vanished, her brow furrowing once again.

Jiang Zhinan didn’t notice the shift in mood; she just focused on eating, hoping to finish quickly, pay the bill, and make her escape.

Su Jin’s gaze didn’t waver once. It was sharp enough to make Jiang Zhinan squirm under the pressure, and even feel a bit helpless.

After what felt like forever—ten, maybe fifteen minutes—Jiang Zhinan finally finished her noodles. She exhaled in relief and raised a hand to call the waiter for the bill.

But before she could reach for her wallet, Su Jin pulled out a hundred-yuan note and handed it to the waiter.

“For this table,” she said evenly, “and the one behind us. Together.”

“Got it!” The waiter took the money with a smile and went off to make change.

Jiang Zhinan stared at her in surprise. “Why did you pay for me?”

Su Jin curved her lips, silent for a moment, then fished a few more hundreds from her pocket and placed them on the table in front of Jiang Zhinan.

Now she was completely baffled.

“I don’t know how much a night costs with President Zhou,” Su Jin said coolly, her eyes meeting Jiang Zhinan’s with a teasing glint. “She never told me. So I’ll just name my own price—hope you don’t mind.”

Her tone was soft but cutting.

There was no mistaking it—she was referring to last night.

Strictly speaking, if one was to put things in proper terms, Su Jin was supposed to be the one “getting slept with” last night.

No matter how you looked at it, she was the one who had lost out.

But now, with her tossing the money onto the table like that, it somehow looked as if she was the one on top instead—while Jiang Zhinan had become the one who’d been “slept with.”

When that thought hit her, Jiang Zhinan’s cheeks flushed crimson. She couldn’t even tell whether she felt more angry or more ashamed.

Su Jin, however, couldn’t have been more pleased with that reaction. Seeing Jiang Zhinan’s flustered expression, she smiled faintly, said nothing more, and turned to leave with a swagger.

“You okay?” the system coughed awkwardly in her mind, asking tentatively.

“I’m fine,” Jiang Zhinan replied, shaking her head. After a brief silence, she reached for the money Su Jin had thrown down and counted it carefully.

Five bills in total, plus the change the waiter had given back—five hundred and nine yuan altogether.

Pressing her lips into a line, Jiang Zhinan tucked the money neatly into her wallet, then stood up.

“Where are you going?” the system asked.

“Home first,” Jiang Zhinan said evenly. “I need to rest up. I’ll deal with her tonight.”

The city Jiang Zhinan lived in was a lively one—known far and wide as the city that never sleeps, bright and bustling at all hours.

Her neighborhood, in particular, was the liveliest of them all: vibrant during the day, and even more dazzling at night.

Neon lights blazed, music poured from open storefronts, and the laughter and shouts of young people filled the streets—like countless stars lighting up the city together.

The night air was cooler than it had been during the day, and the breeze carried a faint chill.

Wrapped in a long coat, Jiang Zhinan pushed open the door to a bar called “Wild Ones” and stepped inside. She took her reserved seat, her expression calm and composed.

The place was crowded. Most of the patrons were young, their hair dyed bright red or pink, twisting and swaying like serpents in the pulsing light of the dance floor.

The rest were older, more composed types, drinks in hand, scanning the room with casual glances that were anything but accidental.

After all, quiet nights always demanded something—or someone—to pass the time with.

Jiang Zhinan’s gaze swept over the room once before she withdrew it. She wasn’t interested in any of that.

She hadn’t come here for fun.

As soon as she’d returned home that afternoon, she’d made some calls to find out where Su Jin would be performing tonight. Once she’d confirmed it was “Wild Ones,” she came straight over.

At the moment, a middle-aged man was singing on stage. His voice was pleasant, his looks weren’t bad either, and he’d caught quite a bit of attention.

When his song ended, the next performer to step out was Su Jin.

Given how stunning Su Jin was, Jiang Zhinan figured she must have quite a following here. Her entrance certainly wouldn’t go unnoticed.

But the reality exceeded even that. The moment Su Jin walked onto the stage, Jiang Zhinan realized “not unnoticed” was a massive understatement.

The cheers she received were several times louder than those for the man before her.

Even the couples who’d been dancing in the center of the floor stopped what they were doing, ordered drinks, and stood with glasses in hand to listen.

Jiang Zhinan’s seat was one of the best in the bar, giving her a clear view of the stage—and of Su Jin’s face.

Which meant it was just as easy for Su Jin to notice her.

You again, Su Jin thought, her lips pressing together for a moment before she turned away.

Without acknowledging her, she strode to the chair at the center of the stage, adjusted her guitar with a few deft twists of the tuning pegs, and sat down.

Jiang Zhinan couldn’t tear her eyes away.

On stage, Su Jin looked exactly the same as she did off it—lazy, sensual, her body lithe and graceful. Every small movement carried a natural allure.

The lighting in the bar was dim and suggestive; the soft glow fell across Su Jin’s hair like tiny sparks, giving her a rare and gentle beauty.

Jiang Zhinan unconsciously held her breath.

Then came the sound of the guitar. Su Jin’s long, pale fingers plucked the strings, her voice flowing with it—magnetic and mesmerizing.

The song was in a foreign language Jiang Zhinan couldn’t understand, but it didn’t matter. The emotion in Su Jin’s voice was enough to pull her in completely, enough to make her heart move in sync with every note.

When the song ended, applause broke out across the room.

Su Jin smiled, accepting the praise with easy confidence before lifting her hand again to start the next song.

This one was entirely different in tone and rhythm, but she handled it just as skillfully. Her voice was remarkably versatile; no matter the genre, once she sang it, the song felt like it had been written for her alone.

When the second song ended, the emcee announced it was time for requests.

Guests could name a song in exchange for a small tip—a token payment for the performer.

This was what Jiang Zhinan had been waiting for.

The moment Su Jin finished her last note, she raised her hand high to signal she wanted to request a song.

Up to something again, no doubt.

Su Jin wanted to ignore her, but Jiang Zhinan’s seat was too close to the stage, and that raised hand was impossible to miss. Pretending not to see would have been pointless.

“Go ahead,” Su Jin said finally, sighing and looking her way. “What song?”

Jiang Zhinan smiled, walked straight up to the stage, took the microphone, and said, “How about Two Tigers?”

The room fell silent for a beat—and then erupted into laughter.

Who on earth comes to a bar and pays to hear someone sing Two Tigers?

“Alright,” Su Jin said coolly, unfazed. Clearly, she’d seen this coming. “Then tell me, miss—how much are you planning to pay for that request?”

“I don’t have much cash on me,” Jiang Zhinan said lightly. She reached into her pocket, pulled out her wallet, and drew out a few bills. Then she slipped them neatly into Su Jin’s front pocket.

“In total, it’s five hundred and nine. I hope you won’t mind.”

So that’s what she came for.

Su Jin raised an eyebrow, her smile deepening as she exhaled softly.

“Alright then,” she said.