The Heroine Pays Me to Fall in Love (Quick Transmigration) - Chapter 40

Jiang Zhinan spoke with an unusual seriousness.

Su Jin stayed silent for a long time, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied her in quiet contemplation.

It was clear Jiang Zhinan had dressed up for the occasion. She wasn’t wearing one of those usual businesslike outfits that always made her look distant and restrained. Instead, she had chosen a light lavender dress.

It suited her beautifully—every one of her best features seemed magnified. The soft color lent her a touch of sweetness; she looked like a little princess—lovely, gentle, and disarmingly charming.

But the dress wasn’t made for cold weather. Night had fallen, the wind was picking up, and even though Su Jin had already draped her own jacket over Jiang Zhinan’s shoulders, she could still see her shivering ever so slightly.

Even so, Jiang Zhinan showed no sign of leaving. She stood her ground, as if determined to hold her position until the very end.

“Zhou Ying,” Su Jin finally said after a long pause. Her lips curved faintly—not calling her ‘President Zhou’ this time, but by her full name instead. “Are you cold?”

Jiang Zhinan blinked, momentarily startled by the question. She hadn’t expected Su Jin to change the subject so suddenly. “No,” she replied after a beat, still a little confused. “Why?”

“You’re too delicate,” Su Jin said, a small smile touching her lips as she stepped forward and gently pulled up the zipper of the jacket. “You should exercise more. I’ll go with you next time.”

“Why are you suddenly saying this?” Jiang Zhinan was bewildered, unsure what Su Jin was getting at.

Su Jin met her eyes. The wind tangled her hair, but there was a softness in her gaze. “Didn’t you say,” she murmured, “that no one can stay lonely forever?”

“So, from today on, I’m asking for your help. Take me with you—let me run away from loneliness.”

“Please.”

It was the first time Jiang Zhinan had ever heard Su Jin speak to her in such a low, humble tone.

Her voice was quiet, her words slow and tentative—so faint that if Jiang Zhinan hadn’t been paying attention, she might not have heard them at all.

Su Jin was still leaving herself a way out. If Jiang Zhinan didn’t feel the same, if she rejected her, Su Jin could easily deny everything—say it was a misunderstanding, that Jiang Zhinan must have heard her wrong.

Su Jin had never been the type to trouble others. She had always lived with restraint, never asking for more than she could bear. For her, this was already stepping far beyond her limits.

She leaned back against the rooftop railing, closed her eyes lightly.

Please.

Whatever happens—life or death—let there be an answer.

“I told you not to lean over there.”

Jiang Zhinan’s voice came sharply from beside her. In the next instant, a hand appeared in front of Su Jin, gripping her collar and pulling her back toward safety.

Su Jin’s lips curved into a small smile.

“I know,” she whispered. Then, after a moment, she caught Jiang Zhinan’s hand and held it tightly in her own.

Just as she had hoped—she was still alive.

After their deep, late-night talk on the rooftop, Su Jin finally agreed to her proposal.

Jiang Zhinan was overjoyed. She immediately helped Su Jin set up a Weibo account and registered matching IDs across all major platforms. She carefully selected a batch of Su Jin’s best photos and posted them online.

Jiang Zhinan had always had extensive connections. One of her business partners happened to be close friends with someone who specialized in social media promotion—a professional in image branding and online marketing.

Jiang Zhinan went to meet her personally, humbly seeking advice and learning all she could about promotional strategies.

The woman told her that to become popular, looks weren’t enough—you needed a strong persona. “You have to decide how you want people to see you,” she explained, “then build everything around that.”

Jiang Zhinan nodded earnestly, jotting down every word in the small notebook she had brought along.

They went on to discuss the details—Su Jin’s height, weight, hobbies, and special talents. Jiang Zhinan answered each question without hesitation, eager to provide anything that might help.

After more than two hours of secret planning, they finally drafted a detailed plan to make Su Jin famous fast:

Buying promotions, trending hashtags, magazine spreads, and collaborations with popular influencers—whatever it took.

After all, President Zhou had money. And for someone like her, there was no problem money couldn’t solve.

Sure enough, the strategy worked. Within days, Su Jin’s photos went viral. Anyone who searched her name would find a string of glowing adjectives attached to it.

Jiang Zhinan couldn’t hide her happiness.

Su Jin, on the other hand, didn’t seem particularly affected. She continued performing at the bar, going about her life as usual.

Still, seeing Jiang Zhinan’s face light up with excitement every time she checked her phone filled Su Jin with a quiet warmth she couldn’t quite describe.

But fame always brings noise. Soon, the internet was filled with differing voices. Some said her photos were heavily edited, that she didn’t look that good in real life. Others began spreading rumors—fabricated “scandals” designed to attract clicks.

“Don’t worry about it,” the social media consultant said breezily, scrolling through her phone. “If people are talking about her—good or bad—it means she’s trending. I’ll get a few burner accounts to ‘accidentally’ spot her on the street later, post some candid shots.”

Jiang Zhinan nodded, agreeing that the idea made sense. But she still couldn’t stand seeing Su Jin being insulted.

That night, unable to resist, she created a secret alt account and went to war with the trolls—furiously typing replies, ready to fight hundreds of them if she had to.

So when Su Jin finished her performance and came over to join her for a drink, the sight that greeted her was Jiang Zhinan puffed up in anger like a little hamster, eyes fixed on her screen, furiously hammering at the keyboard.

“What’s wrong?” Su Jin asked, thinking she must’ve had a falling-out with some business partner. She frowned and leaned closer to glance at the screen.

What she saw, however, made her pause.

There, under a hate-posting marketing account, a user named ‘Su Jin’s Little Tail’ was fervently spamming over-the-top compliments.

— My Jin is low-key, elegant, and full of depth. Let her shine alone; no comparisons needed.

— The world may not be worth it, but Su Jin is.

— My goddess looks so good—help, I’m falling for her again.

Where on earth did people even learn to say things like this?

Su Jin stared at the screen name Su Jin’s Little Tail, then at the very real Jiang Zhinan sitting across from her. It was hard to connect the two.

“President Zhou.” Su Jin couldn’t help but laugh after watching her for a moment. “Mind telling me where you learned that from?”

“A friend gave it to me.” Jiang Zhinan said matter-of-factly, pulling a large sheet of paper from her pocket and handing it over. “The ‘Rainbow-Praise Handbook.’”

Su Jin blinked. She hadn’t realized something like that could even exist.

She gave a small cough and unfolded the paper—only to find it full of specialized terminology, plus a series of densely written notes in Jiang Zhinan’s own handwriting.

President Zhou truly lived up to her reputation—an exceptional learner. Give her one example, and she could come up with ten more on her own. The whole thing read like a thesaurus packed exclusively with flattering adjectives.

“All this must’ve been exhausting to prepare,” Su Jin murmured, both touched and a little pained by the effort behind it.

“It’s fine,” Jiang Zhinan replied with a faint smile. Then she leaned closer, her voice conspiratorial. “Actually, that’s not my only account.”

Su Jin blinked. “Oh? There are more?”

When Jiang Zhinan switched to the account list, Su Jin nearly choked. There were over a dozen of them, every single one beginning with ‘Su Jin’s.’—an endless parade of fangirl IDs.

One in particular stood out: ‘Yingying of Su Jin’s Family.’

At the sight of it, Su Jin’s lips curved even higher.

Meanwhile, Jiang Zhinan had already tucked away her rainbow praise handbook and turned to flag down the bartender, her fingers absently drumming on the counter.

Su Jin watched her for a moment, then leaned in until her lips were near Jiang Zhinan’s ear. Her voice was soft, teasing: “Yingying?”

“Mm?” Jiang Zhinan turned back. Their eyes met—and a faint blush crept up her ears. “Why are you calling me that all of a sudden?”

“Nothing.” Su Jin shook her head lightly. She reached out to squeeze Jiang Zhinan’s hand, her voice barely above a whisper. “Just wanted to confirm whether Yingying was really you.”

“Of course it is.” Jiang Zhinan arched a brow. “Unless you’ve got another Yingying hanging around?”

“Good point.” Su Jin nodded solemnly. “Then by that logic, ‘Yingying of Su Jin’s Family’ must also be you.”

The way she said it made it clear she was doing it on purpose—reading out the embarrassing ID word for word, even emphasizing the “of Su Jin’s” part.

Jiang Zhinan stared at her for a long moment without speaking.

Su Jin didn’t rush her. She just smiled faintly and waited in silence.

“So what if it is?” Jiang Zhinan finally lifted her chin, taking a sip of her orange juice with deliberate composure. “That one’s mine—and so are all the rest. Impressive, huh?”

“Very.” Su Jin laughed, clinking her glass against Jiang Zhinan’s before tilting it back and downing the entire drink in one go.

“Thank you,” she murmured afterward, her eyes glimmering with warmth and amusement.

Jiang Zhinan’s heartbeat stuttered. She shook her head with a small smile and mumbled, “Don’t mention it,” but her free hand instinctively reached out to grasp Su Jin’s wrist.

Su Jin chuckled softly, turning her palm over to clasp Jiang Zhinan’s hand instead. Under the dim bar lights, she leaned in closer, her tone low and velvety.

“President Zhou?”

“Mm.” Jiang Zhinan responded quietly, their foreheads almost touching.

“Zhou Ying?” Su Jin continued, her voice playful now, almost childlike.

“Mm.” Jiang Zhinan nodded again, utterly serious in her answers.

“Yingying?”

“I’m here,” Jiang Zhinan said at last, blinking in confusion. “What are you doing?”

Su Jin’s lips curved into a smile. “Just introducing myself.”

She looked at her with a soft, teasing glint. “I’m Jinjin of Zhou Ying’s Family. Pleased to meet you.”