A Self-Cultivation of a Stand-in [Transmigration GL] - Chapter 7
With a demeanor so gentle it was nearly identical to the original, yet infused with a touch of green, youthful obedience.
Even in her dreams, Yu Zhezhi had probably never seen such a sight. Encountering it so suddenly in reality, the impact was no less than a planetary collision.
Yu Zhezhi practically fled in a panic.
Never in her life did she expect to show such pathetic disarray for such an absurd reason. But she found she was increasingly unable to look directly at the impact brought by Hua Luoyue’s face.
Yu Zhezhi walked out of the ward with her limbs moving in stiff, synchronized blocks, never once looking back—as if what lay behind her wasn’t a frail, young patient, but some terrifying super-bomb.
Thinking herself composed, she returned to her car and sat motionless for a long time.
When Assistant Li came to find her, she saw what looked like a sculpture named Yu Zhezhi. The assistant didn’t notice any difference between this “stone statue” and the way Yu Zhezhi usually stared off into space in broad daylight; she tapped on the window, and seeing no response, she pulled the door open to speak.
“The arrangements for the new place are settled. She can just bring her textbooks and daily necessities when she moves in. It’s even closer than the previous apartment… Do you want to go take a look?”
Yu Zhezhi turned to her and asked numbly, “What new place?”
“Didn’t you ask me to find a new one?” Assistant Li countered, confused. “You said the security at the previous apartment wasn’t good enough and were worried someone might look for trouble later. The new one is a three-bedroom, though one room has been turned into a study. It’s much more spacious than the last one. Is there something you’re dissatisfied with?”
She had sent photos and videos earlier, and Yu Zhezhi hadn’t complained then.
Yu Zhezhi finally snapped back to reality. “No need. That one will do. Tell her to move in as soon as possible.”
Assistant Li continued, “Then, President Yu, do you want to see it first? One room is yours; I had them set it up simply according to your usual habits.”
That room was meant to be a place for Yu Zhezhi to stay overnight. Firstly, it was better than staying in a hotel every time she came to City X; secondly, it allowed her to observe Hua Luoyue from a closer distance. The ever-diligent Assistant Li hadn’t forgotten the original intent: Yu Zhezhi chose Hua Luoyue to “see the face and think of the person.”
Taking advantage of the fact that they hadn’t moved in yet, it was better to change anything Yu Zhezhi disliked early on.
But Yu Zhezhi refused stiffly: “I’m not going. What’s there to see in a broken house? I’d rather get back to work.”
On matters regarding Hua Luoyue, Yu Zhezhi had always been temperamental. Assistant Li didn’t think much of it and dropped the subject to relay an invitation she had just received.
The eldest Miss of the Zhong family was getting engaged at the end of the year. Before stepping into the “grave of marriage,” she had been very active lately. In the next few days, she had a sudden whim to host a bachelorette banquet to commemorate her final days of freedom. The guest list covered almost all the young socialites of their age in City A, and Yu Zhezhi—the Miss who had already risen to become President Yu—was among them.
In truth, Yu Zhezhi’s relationship with her was superficial. The families didn’t have much interaction, and their usual social circles rarely overlapped—Yu Zhezhi almost always attended events for business. Assistant Li knew her boss hated unproductive socializing, so there was a specific reason she brought it up.
“The invitation was sent jointly by Miss Zhong and the second Miss of the Zhao family. Miss Zhao will also be attending.”
The Yu Corporation was currently considering a collaboration with the Zhao family. The second Miss Zhao was in her early twenties and had just entered the company, but since her older brother and younger sister were both incompetent, she was being groomed as the core successor. While Yu Zhezhi was confident in negotiating directly with President Zhao, there was no harm in building a rapport with the successor in advance.
Yu Zhezhi asked, “When is it?”
Assistant Li checked the time. “Next Monday at 6:00 PM.”
Yu Zhezhi thought for only two seconds before saying, “Clear the schedule.”
Assistant Li nodded and noted it in the calendar. After consulting Yu Zhezhi, she canceled a minor meeting scheduled for that afternoon. The remaining matters would be handled after returning to City A.
Before they finally departed, Assistant Li asked one more time: “Are you sure you don’t want to see the house?” After all, Yu Zhezhi had previously said with equal certainty that she absolutely wouldn’t visit Hua Luoyue in the ward.
Yu Zhezhi’s expression shifted several times, bordering on humiliated rage: “I’m not going!”
Not long after Yu Zhezhi left, Hua Luoyue was discharged.
Assistant Li had already bought her plane ticket to return to City A, so she couldn’t arrange everything personally. But before boarding, she called Hua Luoyue and told her in a businesslike manner that she had hired a driver and a cleaner specifically to help her move over the next few days. The rest was just the usual polite small talk—calling if anything came up.
Hua Luoyue could read between the lines: the subtext was “Best not to look for us unless it’s necessary.”
However, since they had helped resolve the trouble at school, Hua Luoyue was immensely grateful. She obediently nodded and said, “I understand.” Her tone was as compliant and gentle as could be.
Then, before Assistant Li could finish the formalities, the call was abruptly cut off from the other end.
Hua Luoyue looked at the “Call Ended” screen on her new phone, not particularly bothered. Yu Zhezhi wouldn’t be back anytime soon, and she wasn’t going to worry about problems in the distant future. Moreover, after actual contact, she found that Yu Zhezhi wasn’t as terrifying or difficult to get along with as she had imagined.
On the contrary, she was unexpectedly… innocent…
Hua Luoyue’s train of thought took a detour for a second before she tossed everything related to Yu Zhezhi to the back of her mind. In this new world, there were many differences from her past life that she needed to explore and research from scratch. If someone was willing to help, all the better.
Since Cai Xinyue had proactively stepped forward, she became the best candidate.
After sending Hua Luoyue to the hospital, Cai Xinyue couldn’t wait until she woke up. After returning, she remembered there was a class group chat and added Hua Luoyue as a friend. Hearing that Hua Luoyue was being discharged in the afternoon, she said she was free and could help her pack and move.
Hua Luoyue didn’t refuse her kindness. On the way back to school together, Cai Xinyue finally brought up the matter she had wanted to discuss.
During a recent class activity, students had been forced to attend to provide footage for the school anniversary video. Both of the class’s “lone wolves,” Hua Luoyue and Cai Xinyue, had participated. After the photos, the activity turned into a group picnic. A crowd gathered, and some of the more active students brought out speakers for an open-air concert.
Most students were at the level of “KTV microphone hogs,” but because they sang well-known classics, the atmosphere was quite good with everyone humming along. Cai Xinyue had been sitting in the corner focused on eating when she realized that a soft humming nearby was like a breath of fresh air amidst the “ghostly wailing” of the others.
By the time she snapped out of it to look back, the person at the source of the sound was gone. That spot was in the furthest corner, so the vacancy was very obvious. Cai Xinyue asked those nearby who had been sitting there; after a while, a classmate said uncertainly that it might have been Hua Luoyue.
Cai Xinyue looked around and confirmed only Hua Luoyue was missing. Eventually, Hua Luoyue’s roommate explained quietly that she had left early for a part-time job.
Later, Cai Xinyue found it nearly impossible to find her. Either she was busy missing classes herself, or Hua Luoyue was missing class for work or to visit her mother at the hospital. You couldn’t even hope to run into her on campus. When Cai Xinyue was ready to just camp out at the dorm entrance, she finally ran into her during an early class.
After all those twists and turns, Hua Luoyue finally learned the “absurd” reason.
“You came looking for me because you think I sing well?” Hua Luoyue asked. “So what’s the connection?”
“We formed a band across different colleges and schools,” Cai Xinyue said. “But the lead singer quit for some reason. We want to invite you to be our lead singer and enter a competition together.”
Hua Luoyue studied Cai Xinyue with some surprise. “And what’s your role?”
“I’m the drummer!” Cai Xinyue replied. Her chest puffed out instinctively with a touch of confident pride. But immediately after, she shyly touched that streak of white hair on her head.
“We aren’t very professional; we’re just doing it for fun. A senior in the band has always wanted to enter a provincial competition. But he’s had bad luck and couldn’t get a full lineup, and next year he’s going abroad to study. He might not come back…”
It was the classic story of hot-blooded youth chasing a dream.
Hua Luoyue felt a bit dazed. The word “youth” felt very distant to her, but as Cai Xinyue stood before her, proudly mentioning her band, she suddenly felt a sense of shared resonance—at this moment, her age was indeed one that could be called “youthful.”
Another point of surprise was that the original host was actually good at singing. Neither in her own memories nor in the reactions of those familiar with her was this ever mentioned. It was as if no one knew. But considering the environment she lived in and her introverted personality, it wasn’t hard to understand why.
Cai Xinyue nervously toyed with the hem of her shirt. Recalling Hua Luoyue’s serious profile during class, she assumed the girl was worried about it affecting her studies or jobs, so she quickly added: “You just need to set aside some time in the evenings to practice. Two months at most. We’ll probably disband after the New Year anyway.” Cai Xinyue sounded a bit dejected at that thought.
If she had any other choice, she wouldn’t have chased Hua Luoyue for days. But if Hua Luoyue was unwilling, she couldn’t force her; she could only try her best to persuade.
“And the part-time work…” Cai Xinyue suddenly thought of something. “Oh right, a friend said they wanted to invite us to perform, and there’s pay. It’s definitely more than you’d make handing out flyers for two months. And your sister…”
She stopped there. The money from Hua Luoyue’s sister might not belong to Hua Luoyue herself. And the nature of that “sister” relationship was still questionable.
While Cai Xinyue was racking her brain for more arguments, Hua Luoyue said, “Okay…”
“Huh?” Cai Xinyue was stunned.
“But I haven’t sung in a long time. I’m not sure if I can meet your requirements,” Hua Luoyue said.
Cai Xinyue blinked repeatedly, finally processing the words. Her face lit up. “You agreed?”
Hua Luoyue smiled, tilted her head slightly, and asked, “Shall we go try it out first?”
“Aren’t you moving?” Cai Xinyue asked.
“It’s not too late to move after the trial,” Hua Luoyue said.
Cai Xinyue nearly jumped for joy. The next second, she grabbed Hua Luoyue’s hand and sprinted toward the music club’s activity room on campus.
Hua Luoyue ran along. Gradually, she felt her “rusty” legs becoming flexible again. The cold wind rushed into her collar, bringing a chill. She looked up and saw yellow leaves swirling to the ground, the crisp sky as clear as a painting.
But listening to the excited chirping by her ear, Hua Luoyue gradually began to feel it: It turned out she really was alive.
Re-experiencing the feeling of “youth” might not be so bad.
One day, sooner or later, she would leave Yu Zhezhi, break free from the so-called plot, and start a new life on her own. And everything “real” from this moment until the end of her days would become the foundation of that new life.
Among those “foundations,” there would be no room for the existence of Yu Zhezhi.