The Heroine Pays Me to Fall in Love (Quick Transmigration) - Chapter 60

For the past few days, Jiang Zhinan kept finding strange treasures left on her windowsill.

Sometimes they were impressive-looking pills; other times they were gold-and-jade trinkets piled nearly into a small mountain. Every time she woke up, the blinding shine practically seared her retinas.

Jiang Zhinan had no idea where these things came from. At first, she didn’t dare accept any of it and simply handed everything over to the sect’s logistics disciples, telling them to broadcast via mind-technique to ask who had lost their belongings.

After a few days of this, the mysterious gift-giver seemed to grow smarter. The next time they left something, they even attached a note—properly labeled as a gift for Qin Yan.

Earnest and cowardly all at once.

But seriously—who was it?

Jiang Zhinan was baffled. Given Qin Yan’s notoriously terrible relationship with the rest of the sect, she even suspected someone might be deliberately playing pranks on her.

“Better not touch it,” the system advised. “If your guess is right, you’ll get dragged into unnecessary trouble.”

“I think so too,” Jiang Zhinan replied. She grabbed paper and ink, pulled the note inside, and wrote—very seriously—on it:

I don’t want it.

After finishing, she sighed. Following Qin Yan’s habits, she lit three sticks of incense for the departed souls, then blew out the candle and went to sleep.

She slept soundly, and dawn arrived quickly.

Yawning as she got out of bed, the first thing Jiang Zhinan did was push open the window and look outside.

Apparently, the note had worked—this time the pile of treasure was gone.

However, the recipient of the message had clearly misunderstood her intention. Thinking she simply didn’t care for jewels, they had instead switched to fresh flowers.

A new note was attached as well:

Would you like it if I sent flowers instead?

Honestly.

Jiang Zhinan clicked her tongue, at a loss for words—and after a moment, she even found herself laughing in exasperation.

She was still debating what to write back when someone knocked on the door again—it was the same man as before. A few more people had died, he told her. She needed to go prepare.

“I know,” Jiang Zhinan answered, nodding. She pushed all other thoughts aside, tidied herself briefly, and headed out.

Though she was a nobody and rarely paid attention to sect affairs, she could clearly sense that something major seemed to be happening lately.

The most obvious sign was that more and more people were dying.

Every day there was work waiting: four or five corpses lined up, all kinds of injuries, all manner of deaths.

The cause was always the same—demons.

Jiang Zhinan sighed over it many times, but there was nothing she could do.

All she could offer was to stitch each body with as much care as possible, so they could at least leave the world with dignity.

She worked straight through the day again. By the time she returned to her tiny room, night had already fallen.

Exhaustion overwhelmed everything. Jiang Zhinan swallowed a few bites of food, fetched some water to wash up quickly, and fell into bed. She completely forgot about the note.

And so, the next morning, her small windowsill was once again piled high—this time with pastries.

All kinds of shapes, all kinds of flavors, and the fragrance was rich enough to seep through her nose and straight into her stomach.

Jiang Zhinan paused, reached for the attached note, and read:

It seems you don’t like flowers either. What about food?

Or just write down what you like—I can find anything for you.

Even the tone looked pitifully hopeful.

Jiang Zhinan stared at the note for a long moment and finally sighed softly.

“Maybe I just won’t sleep tonight,” she murmured to the system. “I want to see who this person is, what they’re after, and why they’re so persistent.”

The system had only just returned and was still yawning when her words jolted it fully awake. It perked up immediately.

“Great idea! I won’t leave tonight either—we’ll catch them together!”

Truly the embodiment of spectator enthusiasm with zero responsibility.

Jiang Zhinan laughed despite herself. After a moment, she gently agreed.

With their plan set, the two waited eagerly for nightfall.

Today, for the first time in a while, Jiang Zhinan had no work, so she wasn’t nearly as tired. Even late into the night, she was still wide awake.

The system urged her to blow out the candle early—to lure the “snake” out of hiding.

Jiang Zhinan nodded, did as told, and then hid quietly in the shadows beside the window, waiting.

Time dripped by slowly.

Then—after who knew how long—she suddenly heard light footsteps outside.

At first, she thought she was imagining it. She pressed her ear to the wall, listening carefully for a long moment.

And finally—she was certain.

They’re here!

A wave of tension instantly rose. Jiang Zhinan held her breath and tilted her ear, listening closely. When the person reached her window and began placing something on the ledge, she sat up straight, quickly pushed open the window, and grabbed their hand.

The person probably hadn’t expected her to be lying in wait. Startled, they froze, eyes wide with panic, looking ahead, completely forgetting to struggle.

Those familiar big eyes and the cinnabar mole.

A rabbit spirit!

“It’s you again?” Jiang Zhinan exclaimed in surprise.

“Have you seen her before?” Before the person could answer, the system suddenly spoke in her mind.

“I’ve already seen her twice while you weren’t around,” Jiang Zhinan said. “She must be a shape-shifting rabbit—so fast.”

“No way!” the system said. “She’s not a rabbit at all. She’s your mission target—the daughter of the Qingguang Sect’s leader, Lan Sirou!”

Jiang Zhinan: “?”

In the middle of the night, Jiang Zhinan quietly invited her inside.

The moon was brighter now, and the wind stronger. Jiang Zhinan shivered several times just opening the door. She had no idea how Lan Sirou could endure climbing to her window in the dead of night every single day.

But more than that, she was curious about what this person’s intentions were.

“Cold?” Jiang Zhinan sighed, then poured her a cup of water and draped her only coat over Lan Sirou before finally speaking in a soft voice.

“No, not cold!” The girl shook her head, her eyes bright.

She even looked genuinely happy.

Jiang Zhinan didn’t understand her thoughts, so she pressed on. “Senior Sister Lan Sirou, why do you come every night to bring me things?”

By age, Lan Sirou should have been younger than her, but in the sect, seniority was based on experience, not age, so Jiang Zhinan addressed her accordingly.

“You don’t have to call me senior sister,” Lan Sirou said, shaking her head. “Just call me Sirou.”

“Alright, Sirou,” Jiang Zhinan nodded and continued. “Can you tell me what your intentions are?”

At this, the girl blushed instantly. She fidgeted, then awkwardly lifted her cup and drank the tea, finally speaking after a long pause in a small, soft voice:

“Because I like you.”

Jiang Zhinan—and the system—were both stunned.

“Confessing right at the start,” the system mused in her mind. “So intense. I’ve never seen this before.”

“What?” Jiang Zhinan blinked in surprise.

“Nothing, nothing,” the system waved it off. “You two just keep talking.”

“Okay.” Jiang Zhinan nodded, letting it go. She redirected her attention to Lan Sirou.

“Are you joking?” Jiang Zhinan asked, lowering her voice. “We haven’t interacted much—how can you say you like me?”

“I do like you!” Sirou, still shy, immediately raised her head to insist. “It’s love at first sight, really!”

“From the first time I saw you in the little room, I liked you. That time in the flower garden too. Every time I see you, I like you a little more!”

Like a cat suddenly on edge, she sat up straight, eyes firm and unwavering, as if no one could argue with her.

Jiang Zhinan stared at her for a long moment, unsure what to say.

As the sect leader’s daughter, this girl probably had everything she wanted, growing up spoiled and cherished by everyone, radiating a natural aura of privilege.

And yet, somehow, she had taken a liking to Jiang Zhinan.

Was it a passing fancy? Or just a mistake—confusing curiosity and pity for affection?

Jiang Zhinan couldn’t guess, couldn’t comprehend. She remained silent for a long moment.

Meanwhile, Lan Sirou watched her nervously, eventually taking out the little trinkets she had brought that day. One by one, she carefully placed them on the table in front of Jiang Zhinan and whispered:

“I asked someone to bring these up from the foot of the mountain. They’re little things girls like; I thought you might like them. I hope they make you happy every day.”

“Please, don’t chase me away because of these?”

Her words were pitiful.

Jiang Zhinan looked up at her. After a few rounds of internal debate, she relented.

“Let’s start as friends first,” she said. “As for liking each other, we’ll see once we understand each other better.”

She had granted a reprieve instead of delivering a harsh rejection.

Lan Sirou’s eyes lit up at this, and her lips curved into a wide smile.

“Great, great,” she whispered, gently placing a hand over her heart that had almost skipped a beat from nervousness, her voice full of joy and excitement.

“Yan Yan, you’re so gentle. I almost thought, I wouldn’t make it.”