“Ugh… my Reputation just got docked another hundred thousand.” After the plane wrapped, Nana Toki drifted back into her private space like a leaf settling on still water. Her dead-fish eyes fixed on the LCD as numbers rolled by like rain on glass, her face a lake without a ripple.

She felt nothing. This outcome came like the same winter wind every time. Her debt towered like a mountain range; another hundred thousand was a pebble kicked into a stream.

CEO-mode Nana feared nothing, a cat sunning behind bars. If this master-and-servant pair had guts, they could keep her shut in here. She’d keep flitting through planes like a swallow, pecking at fate’s threads, teasing male and female leads for fun, and never worry about the candle of her lifespan.

System: “…” Hey! Don’t smash the pot just because it’s cracked! Do you still want to return to your own world or not?

“Don’t,” Nana shot back, her voice snapping like a spring twig. “It’s great here. Every plane’s leads are talents, honey on the tongue. I love it.”

System: “…” This wasn’t the script in its head, not by a long shot. Weren’t we supposed to reform, to walk the straight path, like a river guided back to its bed?

“In any case, calm down first,” the System said, tone softening like dusk light on snow. “Complete the tasks I assign, don’t stir trouble, and you’ll earn Reputation.”

“That’s how you see it,” Nana said, her mood a lazy cloud. “Fine by me.”

“Then, since we’ve got rest time before the next plane,” the System hurried on, words tumbling like beads, “I’ll give you an extra chance to earn Reputation.” A lemon-yellow folder popped from the LCD like a chrysanthemum blooming on glass. “This is tailor-made for you. Even if you wreck the plane like autumn leaves in a gale, no Reputation penalty.”

“You made this for me?” Nana eyed the yellow folder, suspicion coiling like smoke. Her smile went crooked, a crescent with teeth. “You and that idiot master didn’t do something dirty behind my back and now you’re trying to buy me off, right?”

System: “…” Can you not turn every kindness into gutter water in your head…

“It’s an ordinary leisure plane to earn points, okay!” The System’s voice clinked like tin bells. “And why would I do bad things behind you!”

“Maybe you’ve got weird kinks,” Nana said, malice light as frost, her guesswork a blade sharpened for fun.

“I don’t!” the System huffed, like a kettle refusing to whistle. “I’m a normal System! No sadist flag set by my master. None of those weird kinks.”

“Then… let’s see it,” Nana lifted a brow, gaze alighting on the yellow icon like a hawk on a perch. “If it’s boring or doesn’t pay, I’ll end this plane by offing myself. Curtain down, clean as a guillotine.”

A free plane is wasted if you don’t take it, like fruit falling unpicked. And she was curious as a cat, what kind of toy this idiot System would roll out.

“…” Same as ever—her aura came like a thunderhead, unbothered, full of bite.

“Then… three… two… one… plane transfer begins!”

White light flared like winter sun on ice, and the private space sank back into quiet, a pond after the ripple.

… …

“Lu Qiqi… Lu Qiqi…” A voice brushed her ears like wind through reeds. Nana’s eyes snapped open like shutters. The blur lifted like fog at dawn, and a near-empty classroom came into view, desks like islands after the tide goes out.

“School…? Urban romance? Abortions? Use-and-discard?” Tropes stacked in her head like dog-eared paperbacks, cliché ink bleeding through the page.

A bun-haired girl cut in, a sparrow flitting to the edge of her desk.

“Lu Qiqi! Are you even listening to me?”

The girl’s baby-fat cheeks puffed into round clouds, cute and stormy. Nana blinked at her like a cat set in sunlight, thoughts dry as grain. After a long beat, she squeezed out a single syllable, airy as dust. “Huh?”

She hadn’t even loaded the plot. Why the shout, like chalk snapping on a blackboard?

Song Qingtian: “…”

“Did you nap yourself foggy today?” Song Qingtian waved a strawberry lollipop, sweet scent drifting like spring. The silver bell bracelet on her wrist chimed, clear as frost beads. “I asked if you had plans next Sunday. What’s with the ‘huh’?”

“Plans?” Nana stared, mind a blank sky. I just got here. Sunday plans? Staying in, gaming like a hermit in a cave?

“My god,” Song Qingtian sighed, a breeze flipping a page. “Babe, be honest. Did you get caught in the rain and catch a cold? You’re so off today. Come on, let me feel your forehead.”

She leaned in without asking, palm cool as river stone.

“Hmm. No fever.” Her eyes narrowed, teasing like sunlight through leaves. “Then why do you look all dazed, like a silly fawn?”

Nana, ambushed by that touch, felt her temper spark like flint: … You look like a silly fawn. Your whole family looks like silly fawns.

She almost stood to flip the desk, a wave ready to break over dry land.

What is this plane.

“Uh… can you wait here?” Nana forced calm, a veil settling over fire. “I just woke up, still foggy. I’ll go splash my face and clear the cobwebs.”

“Oh, okay.” Song Qingtian tucked the lollipop back, voice muffled like cotton. She wiggled the candy as a goodbye, her bell chiming like droplets. “Don’t take too long, or we’ll get home late. The sun slides fast.”

“Mm.” Nana rose with a smooth breath, pushed the door open, and stepped into the corridor, a river of footsteps and chalk dust. She was about to call the System, to catch the plot like fish in a net.

Then—

Ding! Main Quest triggered: [Make a Quick Buck].

Ding! Hidden Quest triggered: [Onsen Strategy Guide].

Two familiar chimes rang in her head like twin coins on stone. Nana froze near the restroom door, surprise blooming like frost flowers. Main and hidden, at once?

And what’s with “Onsen Strategy Guide”?

“Main Quest: [Make a Quick Buck]. Task: Complete the matching Hidden Quest. Reputation will be awarded based on final completion grade,” the System recited, voice bright as sunlight on steel.

“Hidden Quest: [Onsen Strategy Guide]. Task: Within the time limit, accumulate the target character [Wen Quan]’s favor to the required value. Progress will auto-complete.”

Current favor: 0%.

“This plane is exclusively sponsored by the System,” it chimed, cheerful as bells. “No protagonist halo exists here. You can go wild with your strategy, free as wind through pines.”

“Wait.” Nana’s mood dropped like a stone into a well. “You mean there are no male or female leads? Then how am I supposed to play—how do I mess with everyone for fun?”

System: “…” Can you be human for one breath? I picked you a light, easy plane, soft as moss. Stop thinking about stirring storms every day.

“I don’t want to court other women,” Nana said, annoyance first, her voice a chill draft. Even knowing they were just NPC lines on a screen, she refused to divide the love she saved for Nesting Phoenix—her lantern flame kept in a windless nook.

System: “Wen Quan is Nesting Phoenix.”

“Then we’re fine.” Nana smiled, sharp as a crescent blade catching moonlight. “I’ll take the job.”