"Today’s Artistic Index: 66"

"Current Total: 504"

Every day at 6 p.m., the system routinely calculated Luo Xiaolu’s Artistic Index.

Today’s result gave her a slight surprise.

She usually earned twenty or thirty points—maybe forty on a good day. But this jump? Huge.

It meant *Your Lie in July* was reaching more people.

"All this effort finally paid off!"

Luo Xiaolu set down her keyboard with satisfaction, popped open a can of cola—the ultimate comfort sip—and chugged it.

"Ah! So refreshing!"

Nothing beat that first fizzy gulp.

"Artistic Index reached 500. Bonus Quest activated!"

"Complete for richer rewards!"

The system interface flashed again.

Bonus Quest?

Luo Xiaolu perked up and swiped lightly—

"Bonus Quest: Make one random passerby experience SM once."

"???" She spat out her soda.

"What kind of quest is this?!"

As a modern girl, Luo Xiaolu shamefully knew what SM meant.

Simply put: feeling pleasure while being teased. Innocently? Crying over a tearjerker anime counted. The adult version? She’d skip that.

To find a passerby, she had to go out.

She shut down her laptop and faced the mirror.

After transmigrating here, buried in groceries and novel drafts, she hadn’t stepped outside yet.

She wore a plain white tee and casual pants. Her long, messy hair fell to her waist. Her bare face was so soft she pinched her own cheek.

"Damn, I’m just too cute!"

She whistled in admiration.

Her plan: find a mark, wait for interest, then play hard to get. With her looks? Easy hook.

(She hoped no one had ever seen this tactic.)

Who were the world’s biggest masochists? Devoted simps!

Once hooked, teasing them would be effortless.

Morals aside… Bonus Quests smelled *way* too tempting. Worth a try.

She rummaged through her closet. Only edgy delinquent outfits or basic tees.

After psyching herself up to dress nicely? Nothing decent.

Finally, she pulled out her old JK uniform from before dropping out.

After wrestling with mental resistance to wear the short skirt and white thigh-highs, she faced the mirror.

Oh no… heart-racing vibes!

Her schoolgirl look matched every man’s first-love fantasy. Anyone would flashback to their simp days.

Time to go.

She slipped toward the door—but Luo Xiaotang spotted her instantly, controller flying from shock.

"Sis… going to school?"

"I… no," Luo Xiaolu said firmly.

"Not a student, yet in uniform…"

Confusion crossed Luo Xiaotang’s face—then shock, disdain, finally a trash-like glare.

"What are you imagining?!"

Any explanation would backfire. Luo Xiaolu bolted out the door.

A lakeside park near the complex buzzed with evening crowds.

The shut-in breathed the sweet, long-missed air. Passersby flowed around her.

But young guys her age? Rare. Mostly elderly uncles with fans.

A lone girl in uniform stood out awkwardly.

*Wrong place?*

A few handsome guys glanced her way. One even discreetly adjusted himself—but that was all.

Damn it!

*Look all you want—just come talk to me!* *whimper*…

Too shy to approach, inexperienced as she was, unease grew. She sat in a pavilion.

"What places suit guy-girl socializing…"

She typed it into her phone.

"Brothers! Today’s stunt: eating shit on the street! Spam ‘legendary’ in chat!!"

A voice jolted her. She turned.

A chubby streamer held his phone in one hand, the other gripping that mysterious yellow object—Lao Ba’s infamous specialty.

Holy crap—he’s actually doing it?!

"Brothers! Let’s go!"

He shoved it in his mouth.

"N-no problem!" he stammered.

"..."

Luo Xiaolu left quietly, gazed at the stars, utterly disillusioned.

So short-video streamers were the real masochists.

Phone check: 9:40 p.m. Still time.

Search suggested a bar. She tapped the map and headed out.

After a few turns, she realized—secluded alley.

Silence. Dim streetlights cast a drained glow, stretching her shadow. Only moonlight lit the path.

Damn this evil map app!

Lost.

Maybe her new "girl heart" kicked in—panic flickered.

This pitch-black spot? Perfect for a thriller murder scene.

Then—a wobbly figure approached.

"*Hurl—*"

Someone vomiting, stumbling drunk.

Gross… but hopeful. Maybe the bar *was* nearby.

Luo Xiaolu hurried forward. "Hello?"

The "guy" looked up—startling her.

Short purple hair. A girl.

Heavy makeup. Rough, tomboyish aura. Nothing "girly" about her.

"Flower… flower girl!"

The girl leered.

Don’t randomly slip into seventy-year-old pickup lines!!

Before Luo Xiaolu could react—

*Shove!*

Slammed hard against the wall.