When The Scheming Female Supporting Character Is Forced To Seduce The Female Lead - Chapter 8

Zhao Qingdai thought her nineteen-year-old self was utterly foolish.

No, to be precise, it was her pre-awakening self—the one who hadn’t yet encountered the System—who was truly clueless.

Otherwise, why would she unilaterally distance herself from Du Jingmo, yet obsessively monitor her every move like a stalker? And when she discovered men trying to approach her, Zhao Qingdai would cunningly lure those men to her side in various ways.

When Zhao Qingdai saw the scenario the System presented, she maintained a calm facade, but inwardly, she was deeply startled.

Because, truthfully, it was exactly the kind of thing she would do.

Except for the part about throwing sulfuric acid at Du Jingmo.

Picking up her brush again, she had learned to control her overwhelming emotions, each stroke now precise and steady. She needed neither a reference photo nor a preliminary sketch; though this was the first time she’d opened the canvas, she had already painted this scene countless times in her mind.

The Funny-Faced System waited until she finished before speaking: “Look at this masterpiece! Graceful as a startled swan, elegant as a soaring dragon. If only your role as a supporting character in this novel didn’t limit you—you’d undoubtedly be the Da Vinci of our time!”

The System’s over-the-top flattery was so blatant it actually made Zhao Qingdai chuckle.

She put away her painting tools, waiting for the paint to dry naturally. Clasping her hands with mock sincerity, she said, “Please, just be normal. You’re scaring me. I’m begging you.”

The System: “……” It wanted to retract its sense of guilt.

To complete the painting, Zhao Qingdai stayed in her room from morning until night, skipping lunch entirely. After finishing, she sat at the courtyard gate with an apple, waiting to immediately lead Du Jingmo to her room the moment she returned.

Thus, the moment Du Jingmo stepped inside, she heard the crisp sounds of chewing.

Only now did Zhao Qingdai feel hungry. She finished eating the apple with deliberate crunches, wiped her hands with a wet wipe, wrapped the core carefully, and tossed it into the trash bin with pinpoint accuracy. Then, she straightened her posture and resumed waiting.

This whole routine successfully amused Du Jingmo.

After many years, she once again experienced the joy of caring for Zhao Qingdai.

“Sister, you’re back!” Zhao Qingdai quickly tucked her hands behind her back and sprang to her feet, like a child suddenly called on by a teacher.

Du Jingmo: “Why are you sitting here? Were you waiting for me?”

Zhao Qingdai nodded vigorously: “I have something to show you!”

As she spoke, she took Du Jingmo’s hand. The moment their fingers touched, she distinctly felt her body temperature rise.

She took deep breaths, her steps light and steady as she tried to control her racing heart.

Stay calm, I need to stay calm, she told herself. I’m such a green tea; I can’t be this flustered.

“Why are your neck and ears so red?” Du Jingmo asked, using her free hand to tuck stray strands of hair behind her ear. “What time did you leave? Did you put on sunscreen?”

“I just got out of the sun, and I didn’t put on sunscreen before the sun set,” Zhao Qingdai said, calmly touching her earlobes. “Am I really that red?”

[ A textbook example of putting on a calm facade while panicking inside. ] the System remarked.

Zhao Qingdai successfully diverted the conversation. By the time she finished speaking, she and Du Jingmo had reached the hotel room door.

As soon as they opened it, Du Jingmo’s portrait came into view. The setting sun’s rays caressed the frame, creating a halo effect. Zhao Qingdai had used orange and red as the base colors for the painting, and the current lighting was perfect—any brighter and it would have looked too garish. The curtains swayed gently in the breeze, brushing against a corner of the painting.

No filter or composition could ever capture the essence of this moment.

“Sister, what do you think of this painting?” Zhao Qingdai asked, surreptitiously wiping the sweat from her palms. “Do you like it?”

Du Jingmo crossed her arms and stepped inside to examine the work carefully.

The last time she had seen Zhao Qingdai’s artwork was when the girl was applying to university. She had brought her portfolio and timidly asked, “Sister, do you think I have talent? Can I get into the same university as you?”

When it comes to pursuing art, talent is essential; hard work alone isn’t enough. Du Jingmo had told Zhao Qingdai at the time, “You do have talent, but you started too late. You’ll need to work much harder than others.”

Zhao Qingdai did indeed work harder than anyone else, and the following year, she was accepted into the same university as Du Jingmo.

At the time, Du Jingmo didn’t say it aloud, but she was secretly delighted. She personally escorted Zhao Qingdai to university and even privately told others that Zhao Qingdai was her younger sister, asking them to look after her.

But just over a month into the school year, Zhao Qingdai suddenly began to distance herself from Du Jingmo.

“Not bad. Your progress is quite noticeable. Your control over lighting, color, composition, and proportion is commendable. You can see your improvement clearly in both the upper and lower halves of this painting,” Du Jingmo said, offering a thorough critique.

Her words showed no recognition of the painting as a gift; she treated it purely as a work of art. Her serious demeanor extinguished the small spark of hope that had ignited in Zhao Qingdai’s heart.

The System chuckled silently.

No wonder Du Jingmo is particularly susceptible to these green tea tactics. She’s essentially a female lead with a straight man’s mindset.

Unwilling to accept this, Zhao Qingdai pressed, “What else? Doesn’t Sister have anything else to say?”

“Also, this painting is clearly divided into two distinct time periods, with a significant gap between them. Your transition is decent, but the color boundary is still noticeable,” Du Jingmo said, realizing her tone was too harsh. She softened her words, “Still, it’s clear your skills have matured since before. Keep up the good work.”

Keep up the good work.

Zhao Qingdai wanted to protest, but she feared asking why the painting spanned such a long period. She told herself to let it go; this painting already concealed secrets she couldn’t reveal. The fact that Du Jingmo accepted it at all was a pleasant surprise.

But hearing the System’s unmasked mockery, she couldn’t help but press further: “Sister, do you actually like this painting?”

This time, Du Jingmo answered without hesitation: “Yes, I quite like it.”

Those three words struck Zhao Qingdai’s ears like a burst of fireworks. Her eyes lit up: “Really!”

“Why would I lie?” Du Jingmo countered. “Many people have drawn my portrait, but you’re the only one who used orange and red as the base colors.”

Most artists preferred cool tones.

Zhao Qingdai knew she was seen as an aloof, difficult person. Her true personality was stubborn and particular; outsiders could easily stumble upon her taboos without realizing it. So, she simply avoided unnecessary social interactions.

Given this impression, it was only natural that everyone else depicted her in cool tones.

Zhao Qingdai was the only one who dared to paint her using such vibrant colors.

Du Jingmo found this intriguing. “Why did you choose these colors to draw me?” she asked.

“It just… came naturally. I didn’t think too much about it,” Zhao Qingdai replied, carefully choosing her words. “I suppose because, in my heart, Sister has always been like this.”

To others, Du Jingmo was like a luminous moon hanging in the sky.

But in Zhao Qingdai’s eyes, Du Jingmo outshone everything in this world.

Only the blazing hues of the sun could do her justice.

Today, Du Jingmo realized she was far more superficial than she’d thought—practically giddy at such flattery.

Just then, Auntie called them to dinner. Today, the auntie had finally been given free rein to cook, filling the entire table with dishes so lavish that Du Jingmo almost thought it was some grand occasion.

With only three of them eating, most of the food went untouched. Du Jingmo frowned at the sight of so much leftover food.

She turned back to look at the portrait again.

Though Zhao Qingdai had clearly ignored the background, it was still possible to tell that the scene depicted was the entrance to an alleyway.

Zhao Qingdai’s brushstrokes beautified everything in the scene, including Du Jingmo at the alley entrance. The level of care in this painting was unmatched among all the portraits Du Jingmo had ever seen; no one could overlook such dedication.

She had originally planned to send Zhao Qingdai back to school once her leg injury healed, but now she found herself reluctant.

“Never mind,” Du Jingmo said, offering an excuse even she didn’t fully believe. “She’s just young and doesn’t understand. As long as she doesn’t repeat the mistake, that’s fine.”

With that thought, she covered the painting, went downstairs to pour a glass of milk, and knocked on Zhao Qingdai’s door.

“I’m coming!” Zhao Qingdai replied swiftly, her quick movements betraying no trace of her leg injury. “What is it, Sister?”

Du Jingmo asked, “Are you feeling down?”

Zhao Qingdai paused. “…How did you know?”

Du Jingmo answered earnestly, “You barely ate anything just now. That’s not like you.”

“Oh…”

This was a girl who could lie in the hospital recovering, do nothing all day, and still manage to eat two breakfasts.

Zhao Qingdai: “……”

Though her appetite really had been affected by her mood today, hearing Du Jingmo say it with such seriousness was mortifying.

“I’m not actually eating that much,” she tried to save face. “I just don’t want to waste food.”

Du Jingmo, not expecting her to focus on the quantity of food, chuckled. “Just finish your milk first.”

At her words, Zhao Qingdai obediently drained her glass of milk, even though she’d been feeling nauseous moments before. As she drank, she shifted to make room for Du Jingmo to sit down.

“Want to tell me why you’re upset?” Du Jingmo asked.

Zhao Qingdai twisted her fingers together nervously, looking extremely anxious. She gently gnawed the soft inside of her mouth, telling herself not to laugh at this moment.

Du Jingmo was the type of person who never meddled in others’ affairs. For example, though she’d always wondered why Zhao Qingdai had distanced herself, she’d never asked about it until now.

But things were different now.

Zhao Qingdai’s lips were drawn taut, and when she raised her head, her eyes were red and brimming with tears, her long lashes trembling as if a tear might fall at any moment.

“Sister, I’m sorry. Can I just not say it?”

Du Jingmo felt a pang of panic.

Zhao Qingdai’s tears left her flustered and tongue-tied. All she could manage was a quick “Okay” before hastily grabbing tissues to wipe away the tears.

The omniscient System watched silently:

Damn it, she’s pulled the green tea act again!

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