The Male Lead Always Thinks My Script is Wrong - Chapter 25

“Host…”

When Ji Shinian was jolted awake by an electronic screen, he thought he was still dreaming.

He reached out and grabbed the bed curtains, staring at the blue digital display in front of him, feeling a bit dazed. “Why can’t I touch you?”

Tiansuan looked like it wanted to hop out of his head and beat him up. “I was only muted for a single day and you’ve already forgotten me? Host, do you have any respect for my hard work?”

No wonder he’d felt like he was forgetting something before he fell asleep.

“Haha, don’t be mad.” Ji Shinian’s head throbbed from the high-pitched electronic voice, but he didn’t force the mute button this time. He argued back righteously, “Wasn’t I just acting on impulse?”

“What do you mean, impulse!” Flames of digital pixels flickered across the screen. “You didn’t want to hear a word I had to say!”

The screen began pulling up data logs. “Look at your points. Six hundred. If you had consulted me, we wouldn’t have lost any character consistency points at all. We could have used some creative storytelling to trick the Heavenly Dao!”

“Yeah, yeah—wait, what?”

Ji Shinian sat up abruptly, wondering if he was truly awake. “Wait a second, it wasn’t two hundred and fifty? Are you sure those are my points?”

“Absolutely, positively, and definitely!” Tiansuan’s screen flashed, turning pink. “The Skyfire event was a major plot point, and you even triggered a hidden quest. It was supposed to be four hundred points total!”

“Who knew you’d mute me before I could even issue the mission. Luckily, you managed to rationalize your own logic, otherwise, if your character core had collapsed, I would’ve had to deduct everything…”

“So you’re saying the Skyfire was a main quest I was supposed to join.” Ji Shinian hadn’t expected his moment of kindness to count as “proactive working.” He flopped back into his blankets. “But the main system isn’t affected by me, right? Why didn’t you guys notify me sooner?”

“We wanted to! But who knew the host would charge into the center of the Skyfire without looking back? Under those conditions, the main system was already working overtime just to shield you from the Heavenly Dao’s gaze. Besides, if not for me, you’d have lost way more points.”

“That’s called being impulsive, not charging without looking back,” Ji Shinian corrected. “So this is the ‘hard work’ you were talking about?”

“Oh, right, impulsive,” Tiansuan repeated, sounding smug. “Of course. Like I said, we are good systems here for your benefit. Naturally, we serve you!”

Ji Shinian didn’t rush to reply. He closed his eyes, rolling onto his back.

In the darkness, the electronic screen was even clearer. He looked at the “600” in the bottom right corner, and his mind cleared. From the Red Oriole Secret Realm to the night of the Skyfire, this system—while noisy and occasionally useless, hadn’t actually screwed him over.

After a moment, he ran a hand through his messy hair, opened his eyes to look at the top of the bed canopy, and whispered in his mind.

“Yeah. Thank you.”

“Miss, the Eldest Young Master returned today.”

The sun was high in the sky by the time Ji Shinian wandered downstairs with messy hair. Li Moyan appeared out of nowhere at the corner of the hallway to report.

“Haaa—” Ji Shinian let out a long yawn, barely reacting to the sudden shadow. He said lazily, “Got it. I’ll eat in the flower hall.”

He tilted his head, looking behind Li Moyan at the empty stairs. “Uh… where is Xiao—I mean, Song Huaiqiu?”

“I’ve already spoken to Steward Zhou about making him your guard,” Li Moyan said helplessly. “But they said they need your personal approval. They’re afraid of sending someone you don’t want.”

Ji Shinian continued downstairs. “Can’t you just say I agreed?”

“I told her it was your wish. But since he’s a male outsider, Steward Zhou said she has to see what the Eldest Young Master says before making arrangements.”

“Where is he now?” Ji Shinian sat before the vanity, quickly and efficiently gathering his hair into a simple bun.

Seeing this, Li Moyan helped him secure a wooden hairpin and sighed. “You don’t need to worry, Miss. The family wouldn’t mistreat my relative. Song Huaiqiu should be in the backyard right now.”

“Mhm,” Ji Shinian nodded, then realized something a second later. “What do you mean, ‘worry’?”

Why does everyone think the male lead is like a precious treasure to me? Ji Shinian grumbled internally. Before stepping out the door, he emphasized to Li Moyan once more:

“I was just asking. Since I’m the one who picked him up, I should at least know how he’s doing.”

“Understood. Rest assured, Miss, the Song Huaiqiu you picked up is doing very well.”

Ji Shinian: “…”

For the sake of his reputation, he decided he should probably mention the male lead less in front of Uncle Li.

The two made their way to the flower hall, where Ji Shuangyuan had clearly been waiting for a while. It seemed he was well aware of his “sister’s” habit of sleeping in.

“How did you sleep yesterday?”

As a dedicated “sister-con,” the man didn’t mention his late arrival or the Skyfire at all, starting instead with a classic move of concern.

“Fine.” Ji Shinian sat obediently beside him, feeling a pang of guilt as he glanced at Li Moyan.

In the entire household, only Li Moyan and Xiao Shu knew the truth about him staying out all night.

“That’s good. I was worried you wouldn’t sleep well.” Ji Shuangyuan looked relieved, then turned to Li Moyan. “Uncle Li, I heard from the steward that you brought a… relative to follow my sister?”

“Yes. He’s the son of my maternal grandfather’s cousin’s niece. He’d mentioned coming to find me, but I only got the letter last night saying he’d arrived in Chaofeng City half a month ago. I panicked and went to find him on my own authority. Who knew the kid couldn’t even keep track of his own belongings? He felt so ashamed that if I hadn’t received that letter, he’d probably still be living among the beggars.”

Li Moyan’s expression was natural, his words sounding perfectly authentic. “I’m currently serving the Young Miss, so it’s hard for me to look after him. Since the boy has some martial skill, I thought it would be good for him to help me look after her.”

As he spoke, he even glanced at Ji Shinian with a look of feigned embarrassment.

Ji Shuangyuan didn’t suspect a thing. “Since he’s your relative… Shinian, what do you think?”

Feeling the weight of two gazes from either side, Ji Shinian was so stunned by the loyal servant’s acting skills that he accidentally snapped a vegetable with his chopsticks. He almost wanted to throw up his hands in surrender.

“I think it’s fine,” Ji Shinian muttered, lowering his head and acting indifferent. “Having an extra servant or two is no big deal.”

Though he said that, Ji Shinian understood that Li Moyan was clearly using his own reputation as a stepping stone for Xiao Shu.

“If Shinian is willing, then there’s no problem letting him stay.” Ji Shuangyuan nodded and began piling food into Ji Shinian’s bowl. “Shinian, I heard you want to practice cultivation?”

Ji Shinian didn’t expect the topic to jump so quickly. He gave a subconscious “mhm” before looking at Ji Shuangyuan. “Is there a problem?”

Ji Shuangyuan chuckled softly. “Of course not. It’s just that Uncle Li’s letter arrived at an awkward time. Father and Mother are currently exploring a formation and likely won’t be able to reply soon.”

Ji Shinian hadn’t expected letters from outside the South to travel so quickly. His plan to intercept the mail had clearly failed. He poked at his food again. “Ah, then what about my cultivation?”

“We do what must be done, of course,” Ji Shuangyuan smiled, pulling a gold-leafed invitation from his robe. “You timed it perfectly. The Desert Ruins Academy is currently recruiting students. I asked a friend inside to buy a spot for you. Why don’t you take a look?”

“Buy?” Ji Shinian took the invitation and examined it closely. “You can buy a spot in the Academy?”

The invitation had a gold-stamped cover with two characters written not in the standard Central script, but in a bold, spirited hand that looked like shifting grains of sand. The material didn’t feel like paper or jade, it was incredibly smooth, yet light as a feather.

“Of course.” Ji Shuangyuan had only been accompanying him for the meal. He stopped to look at the invitation with Ji Shinian, his voice gentle. “If the elders weren’t away, they would have opened your Dao Palace for you at home. But the Desert Ruins Academy is world-renowned and an excellent choice for beginning your path. A single spot like this isn’t much trouble.”

Tiansuan, Ji Shinian said, recognizing the familiar description. What was the name of the academy the male lead joins?

Don’t even bother thinking about it. It’s the Desert Ruins Academy.

This really was a case of “effortless success.” Ji Shinian hadn’t expected that getting a ticket to the main plot wouldn’t require a powerful father or mother, just a doting older brother.

He suppressed his internal excitement and looked at the invitation with a “this will do” expression. “Fine. As long as I can start my cultivation, I’m not picky. Thanks, Brother.”

“No need for formalities with me.” Ji Shuangyuan’s favoritism was blatant. “It’s wonderful that the Desert Ruins Academy caught your eye. Enrollment starts in late September. I’ve already ordered the staff to start packing. That boy from Uncle Li’s family should also start training harder. I’ll hire a few more cultivators to accompany you…”

Throughout the meal, Ji Shuangyuan rambled on about Shinian’s future. As for the “tragically deceased” fiancé, this doting brother didn’t mention him even once.

***

After the meal, Ji Shinian returned to his courtyard. He leaned against the window overlooking the cold pond, holding the invitation up against the autumn sun. He couldn’t help but ask the electronic screen: Are you sure this identity of mine is an adopted daughter?

Accept no substitutes, Tiansuan said righteously. The Madam only gave birth to Ji Shuangyuan and had no other children. You are the only adopted daughter of this generation of the Ji family.

I’m not really an adopted daughter, though, Ji Shinian thought, remembering the frail girl he’d seen before. But even if I’m not her, the engagement is off. Why hasn’t my brother—I mean, why hasn’t Ji Shuangyuan reacted at all?

Does their family not want the secret key anymore?

I don’t know that either. All relationships with the female lead are anchored by the host, Tiansuan guessed. Maybe it’s because the host is just naturally likable?

Don’t start comparing us for no reason. Ji Shinian slapped the screen in his mind. Besides, I’ve seen Ji Li. she was a true beauty. It wouldn’t be hard for people to like her.

Ji Li was the original adopted daughter of the Ji family—the one who had been blind enough to fall for his friend.

But she was never meant to be in this destiny.

How so? Ji Shinian frowned. Wasn’t she originally the Ji family’s adopted daughter?

No, she shouldn’t have been. If it were her, this—zzt—crackle.

Tiansuan’s electronic voice sounded like someone had hit the mute button. It seemed to realize something and remained silent for a long time before speaking again.

Tiansuan said seriously: You are the protagonist of the story we chose.

If there were no you, there would be no Ji Yun.

What does that mean? Ji Shinian’s lip twitched as he thought of certain fanfiction tropes. Don’t tell me you’re going to say I’m a character in a book.

Wait, you didn’t lose your memory, did you? A question mark popped up on Tiansuan’s screen as it concluded, Anyway, the host will understand later.

Fine.

It was just idle chatter anyway. Ji Shinian couldn’t be bothered with riddles about destiny and choices, so he set the invitation down.

The autumn sky quickly turned gloomy, and the intermittent gusts of wind grew cold. The fish in the pond hid beneath the rocks. He leaned on the windowsill and grabbed a handful of fish food, intending to kill time, when he saw Li Moyan—who had only just left, walking back through the gate framed by heavenly bamboo.

“Uncle Li,” Ji Shinian called out. “Didn’t Brother tell you to go teach Song Huaiqiu? Why are you back?”

“He isn’t there,” Li Moyan said. “Others said he went out.”

“Out?” Ji Shinian tossed a handful of fish food. “It looks like it’s about to rain.”

As he spoke, he clapped his hands clean, stood up, and walked into the room to grab three oil-paper umbrellas.

“Is the Young Miss going to pick up Song Huaiqiu?”

Li Moyan took one. Tiny droplets of rain began to fall from the sky, tapping against the umbrellas held in the air like a soft whisper.

“I’m bored staying here anyway.” Ji Shinian opened his umbrella and walked out. “Let’s go.”

It was easy to guess where Xiao Shu had gone. The master and servant walked from the courtyard to the back gate of the Ji residence. The rain gradually wove into a dense net with every step, relentlessly splashing against the trees.

By the time Ji Shinian reached the back gate, the rain had formed a heavy curtain. The cold air mingled with the puddles on the ground, dampening the ends of his hair and clothes as the rain divided into silk threads against the oil-paper umbrella.

“Why did it start pouring so hard?” Li Moyan followed behind, but before he could finish his sentence, his young mistress stopped at the gate.

The back gate was deserted. Ji Shinian stood there with his umbrella, lifting it a bit higher.

Amidst the chaotic patter of water, a figure walked slowly from the end of the south-facing street, his outline blurring into the dark, blue-black rain.

The figure had been walking in a hurry, but stopped under the eaves of the back gate. Beneath his wet hair, a pair of eyes stared fixedly at Ji Shinian.

Is this the “Male Lead always encounters a side character when going out” law?

Looking at that pale, non-threatening face, Ji Shinian suddenly felt like laughing.

“Hey, what are you standing there for?” Ji Shinian reached out and handed him the extra umbrella, a smile breaking across his face. “Next time you go out, remember to bring an umbrella.”

***

“Thank you, Miss Ji.”

Xiao Shu stood below the steps and finally took the umbrella.

Autumn had arrived, and the sound of the rain seemed to soften just a little.