After Transmigrating As The Mother Of The Pitiful Female Supporting Character in a Campus Novel - Chapter 56

After eating and drinking their fill, Big Yaozhou didn’t go back to her usual mother-in-law vs. daughter-in-law dramas. Instead, she tuned into the children’s channel, which was currently airing PAW Patrol. Sated and warm, Little Yaozhou wrapped herself in a blanket and sipped her yogurt to aid digestion.

It took her a while to remember what Xia Shibai had instructed her to do before she came.

“Ah, Mama said there’s something here for you.” Little Yaozhou reached into her pocket and rummaged around, finally pulling out two crumpled slips of paper. She opened them, looked at them, stuffed the one covered in numbers back into her pocket, and handed over the one covered in writing.

“Here, for you.”

This time, Big Yaozhou wasn’t in a hurry. Having learned from the previous experience, she gave a light snort, cleaned up the food containers and scraps on the table, poured a glass of hot water, and sat down leisurely to read.

Last time, the paper was so densely packed with words it made her eyes ache, and the whole thing turned out to be questions about how Qin Zhijin was doing, with barely a mention of her. Even those few questions about her seemed, in Big Yaozhou’s eyes, like an act of guilt meant to cover up the fact that the entire letter was about Dr. Qin.

Taking the paper, Big Yaozhou couldn’t help but ask: “In that world, what exactly is the relationship between your mom and Auntie Qin? Why is she so concerned about her?”

I’m the “biological” daughter, yet I don’t see her worrying about me? She really doesn’t care about my life or death, does she?

Little Yaozhou kept her eyes glued to the TV, holding her yogurt and swinging her little feet back and forth. Hearing the question, she hummed and took a moment to reply: “Auntie Qin is my godmother. What other relationship could Mama and Auntie Qin have?”

Little Yaozhou turned her head in confusion to glance at Big Yaozhou sitting beside her. “Our families live right next door. A near neighbor is better than a distant relative; it’s only natural for Mama to care about Auntie Qin.”

“Xiaoyi and I are best friends, and now Xiaoyi is living with Auntie Qin. Kids care about kids, adults care about adults—is there something wrong with that?”

There were many things Little Yaozhou didn’t say—for instance, that Mama frequently bought flowers and kept them at Auntie Qin’s house, and even the flowers she and Xiaoyi planted in soda cans in the yard were kept in Auntie Qin’s garden.

And then there was Doudou. Though the puppy lived at their house, her owner was Auntie Qin.

The relationships and events were too messy for Little Yaozhou to explain clearly. Since Big Yaozhou didn’t ask further, the child naturally didn’t spill everything. Besides, just the stories of her playing in the mountain village lately were enough to talk about for ages.

Things the child had long regarded as “daily routine” weren’t worth mentioning, so Little Yaozhou didn’t think to bring them up.

“Fine.” Big Yaozhou grunted, dropping the subject, and lowered her head to read the paper in her hand.

The last note had been printed, and the carbon-ink texture had been unpleasant to the touch, annoying her. But this time was different. What met her eyes was elegant, flowing handwriting—a style of semi-cursive script evolved from years of non-systematic study of masters, yet undeniably beautiful.

In Big Yaozhou’s eyes, there was no difference between this and the few signatures she had seen from the “President Xia” of her own world.

This sudden realization made Big Yaozhou purse her lips, feeling a pang of sadness. “The handwriting is the same, but the way they act is completely different—it’s like they’re two different people.”

President Xia wasn’t her biological mother but her aunt, yet the first half of their growth trajectories hadn’t diverged much. How could President Xia and Little Yaozhou’s mom be so different?

Before seeing the handwriting, Big Yaozhou could comfort herself by thinking that, like in novels, President Xia’s body had been taken over by another consciousness or a system had been triggered.

But now, it seemed that wasn’t the case.

Suppressing the knot of frustration in her chest, she focused on the note. A few short sentences were enough to shock her. The girl who had been composed just a moment ago let the paper slip from her fingers to the floor.

The spot beside her suddenly emptied. Little Yaozhou, who had been leaning against her, tumbled onto the sofa, a few drops of yogurt spilling onto her hand.

Little Yaozhou looked in confusion at Big Yaozhou, who had jumped up and was pacing around frantically like a fly without a head. She threw off her blanket, picked up the note from the floor, and asked: “What happened? Why are you… so worried all of a sudden?”

“Auntie Qin is in trouble!” Big Yaozhou was only fourteen or fifteen. Panic-stricken, she didn’t know what to do. She clenched her hands together, her nails digging into her palms, but it did nothing to soothe her racing heart or frayed nerves.

She didn’t understand why the Xia Shibai of that world would entrust Little Yaozhou to give her this note. After all, chronologically, her world’s timeline was the one further ahead. She was much older than Little Yaozhou; it should have been the other world’s Xia Shibai asking her questions about the future.

There were only two slips of paper, but neither mentioned the future.

Big Yaozhou didn’t get it at first, but after finishing the note, her mind raced. Things she couldn’t figure out before now began to make sense—Xia Shibai didn’t care about their future because the stories of their two worlds had completely diverged. Even if Big Yaozhou told Xia Shibai everything she knew, it would be useless.

According to her timeline, at this age, Xia Yaozhou was being raised by a nanny hired after Nanny Lin’s paralysis, and she had been sent to a boarding kindergarten a year early. She never became friends with “Fatty” or “Ball,” and she didn’t know Xiaoyi.

Their neighbor wasn’t even Qin Zhijin; she only met Auntie Qin eleven years later.

The work-obsessed President Xia could never be like Little Yaozhou’s mom—caring for her, playing with her at home, or joining a reality show.

All signs pointed to the fact that the world Little Yaozhou lived in had long since veered off the original track. Their life paths were miles apart. What was strange was that Xia Shibai somehow had premonitions about the future of this world, even if those premonitions weren’t entirely accurate.

Big Yaozhou bit her lower lip, feeling as if she had fallen into an ice cellar, shivering from the cold.

Regarding Qin Zhijin going to the neighboring city for field observations because of the medicinal herb fields—she had only told Big Yaozhou a few days ago while they were eating dinner.

“A hundred days for a broken bone and torn ligament.” Though Qin Zhijin’s complexion wasn’t great, the wound had healed, leaving only an itchy scar that bothered her occasionally.

But she was managing.

Watching Big Yaozhou eat happily made Qin Zhijin happy too. After thinking it over, she told the girl about her trip to the neighboring city.

“Eh? But it’s been raining these past few days, with only occasional sunshine. It’s winter and freezing. Is it really okay to go now?” Big Yaozhou was worried; the weather had been terrible lately. Bad weather made flights difficult, too.

Qin Zhijin laughed softly and pinched the girl’s cheek. Seeing the teenager’s serious, “old-soul” expression, she set aside her playfulness and explained seriously: “I know, but the company is pushing hard. This batch of herbs affects whether we can produce a new Chinese medicine tablet next year. It’s a big deal, so I have to go.”

“Besides, your mom recently invested in our company. The upper management values this investment highly. The drugs originally planned for market are being released on schedule to show your mom the company’s true strength.”

After all, these days, there weren’t many “big fools”—wait, investors—who were capable, wealthy, and willing to give pharmaceutical companies large budgets for independent research.

Investors usually have their own preferred drugs or try to micromanage, wanting researchers to develop a “miracle drug” that patients must use but only they hold the patent for—ensuring a steady stream of cash into their pockets.

But such drugs are once-in-a-century finds. If truly developed, the research team could be hailed as modern-day Hua Tuos and would just need to prepare their papers for major medical awards.

“Fine, just be safe.” Big Yaozhou understood immediately. It was like her school’s “study tours”—they said attendance wasn’t mandatory, but if you didn’t go, the school and teachers pressured you, the parents were caught in the middle, and eventually, the students who didn’t want to go were the ones thrown out.

“Okay. When I get back, I’ll make you some winter treats.”

Qin Zhijin had promised with a smile. As the heater warmed the room, the hot chocolate in their cups felt insufficient, and they began to miss summer’s honey shaved ice. The two sat across from each other, their minds full of food and drink. No one imagined the winter rain would turn into a disaster, nearly separating them between life and death.

Little Yaozhou was also panicking. It was the first time she had seen Big Yaozhou looking dazed and terrified. She asked hurriedly: “What happened to Auntie Qin? Why do you always stop halfway when you talk? Hey! Snap out of it! Tell me what’s wrong so two people can help solve it!”

“Zhouzhou, wait for me at home quietly. You can’t help with this!” Without another word, Big Yaozhou turned and grabbed her down jacket from the hanger. Ignoring the dark, volatile weather outside, she pulled open the door and rushed out.

The blast of cold air cleared her head. The first thing she did was dial Qin Zhijin’s number.

But all she got was silence, or a busy tone.

Given Qin Zhijin’s affection for Big Yaozhou, even if she were at work, she would have sent a text if she missed three calls.

Now, there was no response. As the number of times she heard the mechanical female voice increased, Big Yaozhou’s patience dropped to zero. Her walking pace on the streets quickened from a fast walk to a run. When she still couldn’t reach Qin Zhijin, she contacted someone else.

It was a colleague from Qin Zhijin’s lab who had gone with her.

That person had given Big Yaozhou her number during a visit to Qin Zhijin’s house, saying she could be contacted if needed since they shared an office.

The familiar mechanical voice exploded in her ear, and the buzzing roar made Big Yaozhou’s eyes turn red.

It gets dark early in winter, and with the impending rain, dark clouds pressed down on the city in total blackness.

Big Yaozhou’s heart, hands, and feet were several times colder than the sea breeze blowing from the coast. She forgot even how to pray as she searched for the fastest way to the neighboring city and contacted President Xia’s assistant, Shao Qing.

She begged for her help.