Su Xiaoxi’s life before… Ugh, phrasing it like that feels like cursing myself. Let me rephrase: judging from all the clues, the original owner of this body was quite a passive person.
Her petite frame was one thing, but conversations with others confirmed she was the type who quietly accepted everything. Last time, Xu Qianqian complained to me that the club members said *she* hadn’t brought *me* along.
Not going myself versus not being brought—that’s the difference between initiative and passivity. From this, I pieced together Su Xiaoxi’s usual chatting habits.
As a soft-spoken, passive girl, she’d never start a topic. Even when asked directly, she’d only murmur a faint agreement. Most of the time, she’d sit quietly, silently enduring others’ mascot-like gazes.
Perfect for me. Such a personality was easy to mimic—just stay quiet and pretty, and no one in the club would suspect a thing.
That’s why I readily agreed to Xu Qianqian.
“Easy, easy! I’m not running,” I tugged gently but couldn’t break free. Xu Qianqian gripped my arm like an eagle snatching a chick, dragging me forward.
Funny—I’d used that “eagle catching chicks” analogy before, but back then *she* was the mother hen. Now? Total villain shift.
“You won’t run, but I’m scared you’ll get lost,” she said seriously. “Last time…”
Wait—was the original owner *also* directionally challenged?
“What happened last time?” I pressed.
“We agreed on a spot, but after splitting up for minutes… I… I couldn’t find *you*,” Xu Qianqian scratched her hair, cheeks flushing an unusually shy red. “Definitely Xiaoxi’s fault! Xiaoxi didn’t find me!”
Sensing hidden context, I leaned in slightly. “Really *my* fault?”
Her face burned brighter. Neck stiff, she stammered, “N-no… right!”
“So it’s *my* fault for not finding you?”
“Yes!”
“Then,” I chuckled, “did I reach the meeting spot?”
“Umm…”
Bullseye. She fumbled for words.
Got it. *I* went to the right place. *She* got lost.
Under my unwavering gaze, Xu Qianqian’s confidence shrank… and shrank… until she blurted, “We’re here!”
Turns out “here” was just a bus stop, not the gathering spot.
“Still need a bus? That far?” I patted my nearly empty wallet, wincing inwardly. “How far? Where’s dinner?”
“Not far—direct ride. Dinner *is* the gathering,” Xu Qianqian said innocently. “Don’t worry, AA.”
…Did you think I thought *you’d* treat me?!
AA. Hope the bill’s light. If not, I’ll borrow from Xu Qianqian. Waiting silently at the curb, I checked my pocket balance and felt a little heavy-hearted.
Besides a few pitiful bills, my keys jingled—one set opened the cash register.
Qin Ning was so kind—letting me use the shop’s petty cash freely. Meals during shifts? Never a worry. Too bad it’s all cash. If only Qin Ning had handed me an Alipay account instead of keys…
Humans *are* opportunistic. Back when Qin Ning gave me the keys, I felt awkward. Now? I’m already daydreaming about the Alipay password.
Hmm… Should I try in a few days?
“No, no, *no*—way too much!” I shook my head hard and slapped my cheeks twice to snap out of it.
“What’s wrong? Hitting yourself again?” Xu Qianqian blinked her big eyes. “Second time in two days.”
“…Nothing. Look—bus is here!”
Irony: I’d just reused *her* topic-switching trick.
Bus 666 had plenty of seats. We settled near the back. Scenery blurred past the window, and my mind slowly stilled.
They say survivors of near-death disasters often fear similar situations—especially transport accidents. Many who barely escaped develop deep aversion to the same vehicle later.
But I felt nothing. Maybe rebirth hadn’t hurt much.
“We’re here!”
