Transmigrated Into the Stand-In of the Tragic Novel’s Heroine - Chapter 22

“Do not impose on others what you yourself do not desire.”

Xie Qingtang sincerely wanted to look at Chang Yishao and speak these eight characters of truth to her. However, the words reached her lips and were then suppressed. This didn’t seem to fall under the category of “do not impose on others what you yourself do not desire,” but rather “impose on others what you yourself desire,” didn’t it? Chang Yishao was acting like she was fishing right now. Xie Qingtang wasn’t stupid, and why on earth would she voluntarily look for trouble? Xie Qingtang glanced at Chang Yishao, her expression clearly having changed.

Was this the “burden” of being Chang Yishao’s “girlfriend”? Did Chang Yishao want someone who could stand shoulder-to-shoulder with her? It was understandable that she would have such a thought, but the problem was, Xie Qingtang was a fake! Hadn’t they made things very clear between them already?

Chang Yishao saw all the changes in Xie Qingtang’s expression. Chang Yishao chuckled lightly, shaking off those boring thoughts, and said, “The leaf markings in the mu ye tian mu zhan (leaf-in-oil-spot celadon tea bowl) are vivid and natural, but the ancient technique has long been washed away in the river of history. Old Master Qi is now looking for a way to reproduce it, having gone through countless experiments. What do you think would be the most suitable approach?”

The topic suddenly switched to the mu ye zhan, which was relevant to today’s practical activity and did not depart from Chang Yishao and Xie Qingtang’s work scope. Xie Qingtang pondered for a moment and replied, “To talk about naturalness, a leaf accidentally drifting into the bowl when it falls from a tree should be enough, right?” She paused, then chuckled, “But such coincidences are rare. Why not just pick a leaf and place it directly into the bowl?”

Chang Yishao nodded thoughtfully. Whether it was using chemicals to remove the leaf pulp leaving only the veins, or drying the leaf and sticking it into the bowl… all the attempted methods had resulted in failure. “Natural, huh?” She lowered her eyes in deep thought, not speaking again, her mind having long since drifted away.

Xie Qingtang glanced at Chang Yishao. The sunlight had only been out for less than fifteen minutes, but the warmth was already circulating through her limbs—the wind blowing on her face was no longer gentle either.

The spring breeze had unknowingly gone away. In a trance, Xie Qingtang realized she had been living under the same roof as Chang Yishao for two months.

“Do you plan to be a high school teacher forever?” Xie Qingtang suddenly turned and asked Chang Yishao.

Chang Yishao was taken aback, and she stopped walking. Reaching up to brush the hair from her forehead, she stared deeply at Xie Qingtang and counter-asked, “Why not?” Without waiting for Xie Qingtang’s reply, she continued, “Then what do you think I should do?” Her expression wasn’t very different from usual, but from her tone, Xie Qingtang detected a subtle difference, perhaps like the ripples spreading in a calm lake, far less swift and surging than an ocean tide, but a disturbance nonetheless.

“Do you even need to care about what I think?” Xie Qingtang’s face showed genuine confusion. Could it be that Chang Yishao was allowed to ask Xie Qingtang for a life plan, but Xie Qingtang wasn’t allowed to ask her back? How could a person be so double-standard?! Xie Qingtang secretly labeled Chang Yishao as such. This person’s image in her mind was a mix of good and bad, occasionally leaning sharply to one side.

“Things are fine now,” Chang Yishao narrowed her eyes, not betraying any emotion about whether she was satisfied with Xie Qingtang’s words. She had been well-fed and well-clothed since childhood, able to act as she pleased, with people around her to shield her from the wind and rain. What should she do? What shouldn’t she do? Even her parents at home wouldn’t question her, yet there was one person who just had to point fingers. From the choice of major to the choice of profession, not a single thing met this person’s approval, as if the person she was in this other’s mind should be out there competing for opportunities, stirring up trouble, and taking charge.

As for other things, in this person’s eyes, they were “lowly.”

Xie Qingtang “Tsked” and didn’t offer any commentary on Chang Yishao’s words. Everyone has their own aspirations, and educating the youth wasn’t a bad thing.

The hot wind blew on her face, and a thin layer of sweat beaded on Xie Qingtang’s forehead. She was somewhat sensitive to heat, and she definitely wouldn’t suggest “going for a walk” again.

She pulled out a tissue to wipe her forehead, and finally, knitting her brows, she looked down at the jacket she was wearing, secretly muttering to herself: It’s a burden. She didn’t mind Chang Yishao being nearby, and efficiently took off her jacket, draping it over her wrist. The wind blew, and she shook her head, finally feeling a bit refreshed.

“Do you want me to carry it for you?” Chang Yishao asked in a low voice, looking at Xie Qingtang.

Xie Qingtang looked at Chang Yishao in confusion—she had heard that many ‘Ts’ (masculine partners in a lesbian relationship) were eager to do things for their “girlfriends,” rushing to take on any task, afraid of losing face—did that include carrying clothes? But then again, Chang Yishao didn’t seem like that kind of person. “I’ll carry it myself,” Xie Qingtang smiled, looked at Chang Yishao’s profile, and added, “It might get cooler later.” This was a blatant lie only meant to trick Chang Yishao.

Chang Yishao “Mmm’d.”

They walked side-by-side on the grassy field, yet separated by several feet of distance, their expressions calm, looking nothing like a couple, but rather like strangers who met on the road and were walking together for a short journey.

This thought arose in Xie Qingtang’s mind again. She couldn’t help but steal extra glances at Chang Yishao’s face—this wretched old Heaven was deliberately torturing her; she vowed never to be a face-con in her next life.

The tranquility, as bland as plain boiled water, was shattered by an unexpected figure appearing at the end of the road.

It was like throwing quicklime into water, bubbling fiercely, mercilessly and ruthlessly eroding everything around it.

The distance between Xie Qingtang and Chang Yishao shortened when Chang Yishao suddenly stopped. Xie Qingtang smelled the faint, clean fragrance of Chang Yishao’s hair—after cohabiting for a long time, this scent had actually seeped into her bones. Xie Qingtang took a deep breath. She knew she should distance herself from Chang Yishao right now, but a strange impulse kept her from moving. The jacket on her wrist also stopped its swaying motion; it was now hanging loosely, as if draped over both their wrists, tightly connecting them.

There was no storm right now, nor would there be a sad, lonely, little white flower crying sorrowfully in the rain.

A hint of playful amusement hooked Xie Qingtang’s eyes. She raised an eyebrow at He Yanjin, practically writing “I’m here for the drama” all over her face.

Chang Yishao’s gaze shifted, lightly sweeping over Xie Qingtang, like a butterfly resting on a flower, lingering on her face for a moment.

“Why aren’t you moving?”

Xie Qingtang heard her whisper by her ear.

Wasn’t it Chang Yishao who wasn’t moving? Xie Qingtang was confused. She looked at Chang Yishao and suddenly understood. Chang Yishao wanted to use her, the tool-person, to create a “pain point” between her and the female lead. The sky was bright now, and in this season suitable for a serendipitous encounter, the two of them could only brush past each other. Xie Qingtang, feeling she had grasped the plot, reached out and put her arm around Chang Yishao, taking the first “courting death” step, while internally calculating how Chang Yishao should compensate her.

She didn’t pay attention to Chang Yishao’s expression, naturally missing the fleeting astonishment in her eyes.

He Yanjin was completely ignored, like an irrelevant passerby.

She gazed at Chang Yishao blankly, and only realized what was happening when Chang Yishao and Xie Qingtang were about to pass her. The blood rushed to her face, which instantly flushed crimson. She quickened her steps to chase after Chang Yishao, reaching out a hand, wanting to pull Xie Qingtang away to clear a space just for herself.

Xie Qingtang was quick-witted and agile.

He Yanjin’s grab seemed like a sneak attack to her, completely dishonorable. Since she wasn’t some saint, she naturally wouldn’t “treat others with courtesy.”

He Yanjin’s feeling of being wronged was genuine.

She looked up, resembling a pitiful little puppy abandoned by its owner, and asked, “Yishao, are you abandoning me?”

Chang Yishao stopped. She lazily lifted her eyelids, looked at He Yanjin, smiled sideways, and replied, “Yes, I am abandoning you.”

Xie Qingtang looked at Chang Yishao suspiciously.

This did not fit her “gentle” persona; it was playful and frivolous. Had she been possessed by some spirit?

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