Transmigrated Into the Stand-In of the Tragic Novel’s Heroine - Chapter 6

Beautiful people are always favored.

At this gathering, Chang Yishao was the one being favored. Whether it was Chang Yishao in her youth or the present one, she was constantly being brought up. Xie Qingtang, however, had no interest in listening to Chang Yishao’s past, and was so bored she covered her mouth to yawn. She was seated close to Chang Yishao, and a slight tilt of her head would allow her to lean on her shoulder and neck, but Xie Qingtang ultimately controlled her posture. Instead, she fiddled with the wine glass in front of her, channeling her boredom.

When she finally couldn’t stand the atmosphere anymore, she found an excuse to step out for some air.

The bar was lively at this hour, and the lights in the hall became hazy. Slow, gentle piano music flowed out like running water, creating a soft, tender atmosphere, like a passionate spring. After Xie Qingtang had been in the hall for a moment, someone approached her to flirt. Xie Qingtang gently smiled as she declined the man’s request for her contact details, then heard a “tsk” sound from behind her, prompting her to slowly turn around.

Yan Siyu had followed her out without her knowing. She looked at Xie Qingtang with cold eyes, her gaze filled with resentment and jealousy.

The atmosphere between them was too strange; the man who had been chatting her up likely sensed something, gave Xie Qingtang a regretful look, and then turned and left.

“Miss Xie is quite popular,” Yan Siyu spoke.

Listening to Yan Siyu’s passive-aggressive tone, Xie Qingtang replied nonchalantly, “Not as much as Miss Yan, after all, Miss Yan’s husband chased her relentlessly for many years.” She deliberately emphasized the word “husband,” which, as expected, caused Yan Siyu’s face to fall dramatically. Xie Qingtang didn’t really understand—since she was married, why not just focus on her own life, and why yearn for someone else? There were so many incomprehensible people in every world; perhaps this was a gift the plot had prepared for her.

“Sharp-tongued,” Yan Siyu sneered. Seeing that they were alone, she crossed her arms, lifted her chin slightly, and said harshly with an arrogant air, “You’re nothing more than a stand-in. Don’t you ever think about who you really are? How could Yishao ever truly look at you?”

“No matter what, I am her official girlfriend,” Xie Qingtang said, blinking. “I can caress her brows and eyes, kiss her lips, and see all her secret sides—whereas you, Miss Yan, probably only received a perfunctory ‘Happy Wedding’ blessing.” They say a supporting female character shouldn’t make things difficult for another, but she wasn’t going to be polite to a fool who came looking for trouble.

The look of triumph on her face made Yan Siyu seethe with anger.

“Why are you so agitated, Miss Yan?” Xie Qingtang said coolly. She calmly adjusted her sleeve, took a step closer to Yan Siyu, and asked in a playful tone, “You’re not planning to cheat and become a homewrecker, are you?”

“You—” In Yan Siyu’s view, every word Xie Qingtang spoke was a provocation. She was so furious her head was smoking, and she pointed at Xie Qingtang, her lips trembling, unable to utter a complete sentence.

Xie Qingtang ignored Yan Siyu further, let out a ‘tsk’, and looked up to see a familiar figure.

She didn’t know how much of the conversation she had heard, but what did it matter to her?

“Teacher Chang, I’m tired. Shall we go home?” Xie Qingtang deliberately raised her voice so her words would clearly register in Yan Siyu’s ears. Seeing Yan Siyu’s suddenly constricted pupils and panicked look, a mischievous smile curled Xie Qingtang’s lips.

She only wanted to annoy this deranged woman and wasn’t concerned with Chang Yishao’s answer. Unexpectedly, Chang Yishao looked at her, nodded, murmured an “Mm,” and proceeded to walk out.

“Not saying goodbye?” Xie Qingtang raised an eyebrow.

Chang Yishao replied, “Lu Li knows; the others don’t matter.” If it weren’t for Lu Li, she wouldn’t have bothered coming to this class reunion.

Xie Qingtang chuckled and followed Chang Yishao. Yan Siyu was left standing where she was, her face pale and tears welling up in her eyes.

“Heartless.”

Xie Qingtang added another label to Chang Yishao: her gentleness was a facade. How could a truly gentle and deeply feeling person come up with the idea of “finding a stand-in”?

Chang Yishao had not been drinking.

Her phone rang while she was driving, but Chang Yishao kept her eyes fixed on the road. Xie Qingtang couldn’t gauge her attitude, so she kept to herself, remaining silent. It wasn’t late yet. Cars were driving along the street with occasional honks, but the cheerful ringtone was still clearly audible over everything.

After a long while, Chang Yishao’s voice finally spoke.

“Please answer it for me, thank you.”

Xie Qingtang instantly understood. That reaction—was it an ex-lover? Had the news already spread since the reunion started? A mysterious smile curved Xie Qingtang’s lips. She didn’t even notice the caller ID and answered the call directly. Before she could speak, Lu Li’s voice, mixed with a noisy background, came through the phone—

“Chang Yishao, you’re really something! You just left without a word?”

“If Yan Siyu hadn’t said anything, I wouldn’t have even known. I told you not to bring anyone, alright? You’re more pretentious than He Yanjin was.”

Xie Qingtang glanced at Chang Yishao with a look of surprise and uncertainty. This was what she meant by “saying goodbye”?

Lu Li clearly didn’t intend to wait for Chang Yishao’s answer; she rambled on and then hung up the phone. Xie Qingtang put the phone back in its holder. She turned to look at Chang Yishao, who was driving seriously, observing her detached demeanor, as if the person Lu Li spoke of had nothing to do with her. Xie Qingtang’s heart fluttered for a moment as she gazed at her profile—this damnable charm. Had the administration deliberately sent her to this “retirement world”?!

The news of Chang Yishao bringing a “girlfriend” to the class reunion naturally spread within their circle, and inevitably reached the ears of the Chang family. This signaled that Xie Qingtang, the “stand-in,” would need to buckle down and work hard, and when necessary, accompany Chang Yishao for “social engagements.”

However, what she had anticipated did not happen. Chang Yishao’s social circle was far too simple, unlike what a wealthy young heiress should have. Considering Chang Yishao’s chosen profession and the piles of books in her study, Xie Qingtang gave a knowing smile again. Perhaps Chang Yishao had been a “bookworm” all her life.

The class reunion was merely a brief interlude.

Aside from working and sleeping, Xie Qingtang and Chang Yishao didn’t actually spend much time together; there was almost no communication outside of their direct encounters. Chang Yishao’s gentleness was like a rootless duckweed, or a reflection of the moon in the water—ephemeral—but fortunately, Xie Qingtang didn’t mind. She was too lazy to speculate about Chang Yishao’s mind and set her sights on earning money through live streaming.

All the songs she sang in her live stream were self-composed, both music and lyrics. Even though they only circulated in a small community, people still sought her out to ask if she would sell the rights to her songs. Xie Qingtang refused without a second thought. It wasn’t due to pride or aloofness; if asked for a reason, it was that the price wasn’t right. Even though she had grown from a thousand-follower streamer to a ten-thousand-follower streamer, she was still an insignificant small fry. When people negotiated with her, they adopted a “condescending” attitude and naturally squeezed the price as much as they could.

“Five thousand per song is already very high. Don’t tell me you actually think you’re He Yanjin?”

Xie Qingtang smiled upon reading that comment. Of course, she wasn’t He Yanjin. She didn’t have an “ex-girlfriend” who was a willing tool to help her write lyrics and music. After coming to this world, she had listened to He Yanjin’s songs—He Yanjin was a good singer, and the perfect lyrics and music enhanced her performance considerably. After she went abroad, her works became scarce, and she was considered to be in a semi-retired state.

Shaking these trivial matters from her mind, Xie Qingtang opened her live stream.

—Sis, sis, are we playing games or singing today?

—The little beauty is online! My waiting here wasn’t in vain.

Compared to the original setting where the account only had looks-based fans, Xie Qingtang’s efforts had clearly attracted many other types of followers.

Some people wanted to hear her sing, and of course, others wanted to watch her dominate the game with her account.

But this time, Xie Qingtang shook her head. She had found a book about traditional crafts on Chang Yishao’s bookshelf, and the content had piqued her interest, while also stirring up memories of her travels across different worlds.

As a qualified worker, she should be skilled in a bit of everything!

Files, grooving planes, row clamps… a series of tools were neatly arranged on the desk.

—Is the streamer going to do handicrafts?

—No way? Honestly, with this stream, I really can’t guess what she’s trying to do.

—Does Maya even have a streamer who’s this unprofessional?

After setting up her tools, Xie Qingtang ignored the chatter in the live stream. She was very interested in the dragon-patterned, bamboo-woven brush pot on the curio shelf, and her main goal for the day was to replicate it. The material preparation had already been completed beforehand; all she needed to do was the weaving, followed by the finishing and assembly. Xie Qingtang’s movements were fast and steady. Her fingers flew, the bamboo strips moved, and the process of lifting, pressing, and interweaving quickly drew gasps of amazement. The fans who had originally come for music and games left, but new viewers began to join.

—What is this?

—Bamboo weaving craft. Many handicraft masters have done it too.

—I love those hands.

The weaving process was obviously much longer than singing or playing games. Once Xie Qingtang settled down, she completely lost track of time.

People came and went in the live stream, and not many stayed.

When Chang Yishao returned home, she didn’t see anyone in the living room or the bedroom.

The study door was ajar. Chang Yishao frowned slightly. She walked over quietly and even knocked on the door.

But there was still no answer.

A moment later, she pushed the study door open and her gaze fell on the “workspace.”

Suddenly hearing a low hiss come from inside, she quickly walked over. “Xie—” The sight made Chang Yishao swallow her intended greeting. Xie Qingtang, startled, turned off the live streaming equipment and murmured, “It’s this late already…”

“Replicating the brush pot on the shelf?” Chang Yishao raised an eyebrow, her gaze fixed on Xie Qingtang’s fingers. Xie Qingtang wasn’t wearing gloves, and no matter how careful she was during the weaving, there were inevitably scratches and marks left on her fingers.

A drop of bright red blood beaded on her right index finger.

Chang Yishao took her hand.

Xie Qingtang looked at Chang Yishao in confusion. She blinked, wondering, Is she going to follow the cliché, trashy novel script and—lick it?

Chang Yishao stared at the bead of blood, lost in thought. After a long moment, she finally said, “Wipe it first, and we’ll disinfect it later. A bamboo splinter didn’t get stuck, did it?”

“No,” Xie Qingtang answered slowly.

She had overthought it. This was a novel about angst and abuse. If she were the female protagonist, would Chang Yishao have said, “Woman, you can’t even handle this simple task?” Xie Qingtang was amused by her own mental projection. She looked up to meet Chang Yishao’s inquiring gaze, instantly composed her expression, and winked at Chang Yishao.

Chang Yishao: “…”

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