Chapter 3

Chapter 3: The Legend of Qian Qi

Fueled by ambition and cafeteria carbs, Qian Qi picked up her tray and headed for the return area.

She stood, turned—and slammed straight into another student.

Soup splashed all over him.

“Fuck—who the hell? Watch where you’re going!”

He spun around, ready to chew someone out.

Then he saw her.

The anger on his face froze. His skin went pale. Fear crawled in like a sickness.

“Ah… i-it’s you. Sorry. Sorry!”

He didn’t even look at his soup-soaked clothes. He just turned to run.

Qian Qi calmly hooked two fingers into the back of his collar and stopped him like he weighed nothing.

“Sorry, classmate,” she said, voice gentle enough to be suspicious. “Your clothes are dirty. Want me to wash them for you?”

Apparently, that was the wrong answer.

The boy shook harder. “N-no, sis. I’ll wash it myself.”

Qian Qi blinked at him. Was she that terrifying?

Sure, the original owner had been a bastard, but… this was a grown man. A tall one. And he looked like he was about to cry.

“Classmate,” Qian Qi asked, “what year are you?”

“Th-third year.”

“Oh?” Qian Qi’s tone lifted. “A third-year calling me sis?”

He nearly vibrated out of his skin. “No! I didn’t mean you’re—no, I—this is respect, I swear—”

Qian Qi frowned and flicked his forehead. “Speak clearly.”

The boy made a small, wounded sound.

[You really look even worse than the original owner.]

Qian Qi straightened like she’d been framed. “That’s definitely the original owner’s personality rubbing off on me.”

[…]

She cleared her throat. “Ahem. Senior. Don’t be afraid.”

She even tried to soften her posture.

Unfortunately, her voice ran a little low, a little androgynous, and her whole vibe still screamed trouble. The boy got even more terrified.

“I… sis, what do you want?” he blurted. “Just beat me up already! Make it quick!”

Beat him up?

Qian Qi stared. “Why would I—”

Then she caught the way he flinched at every movement she made, and something clicked.

Everyone knew.

Everyone knew about her.

The legends about Qian Qi had been carved into the hearts of every student in Magic Plant College and Magic Beast College. Campus folklore, passed down to next year’s freshmen like a warning label.

It started when the freshmen first arrived. Seniors from every academy had come out to welcome them, including seniors from the Magic Plant Department.

This year, plenty of students still applied to Magic Plant Studies. But Qian Qi caused a storm the second she stepped onto campus.

It began when a Magic Beast Department senior took one look at her outfit and sneered, “You can tell at a glance she’s poor trash from the Magic Plant Department.”

Qian Qi—prideful to the bone—put him on the ground and beat the living hell out of him.

She wasn’t tall. She was malnourished. But she was strong, and she fought like she didn’t care if she lived. She targeted weak points, went straight for pain, and a 165-centimeter girl beat a 190-centimeter senior until he screamed for mercy. In the end, it took three 180-centimeter guys to haul her off him.

After that, the senior’s girlfriend showed up to pick a fight.

Qian Qi dislocated both her arms.

From then on, every girl in the Magic Plant Department learned a new rule: do not provoke Qian Qi.

It should’ve ended there.

It didn’t.

The lunatic Qian Qi couldn’t swallow that humiliation. She went straight to that senior’s dorm and beat him again in front of everyone.

The vicious, fearless look on her face haunted the entire men’s dorm building. Every time they remembered it, they shivered.

Her evil name spread through the Magic Plant Department and the Magic Beast Department like wildfire.

Unfortunately for present-day Qian Qi, her inherited memories were incomplete. She didn’t know any of this. All she saw was a third-year shaking like a leaf.

“I really just want to wash your clothes,” she said, exasperated. “Stop overthinking it.”

The boy forced his trembling hands to work. He stripped off his expensive, branded jacket and shoved it into her arms.

Then, the instant Qian Qi loosened her grip to take it properly, he bolted.

As he ran, he shouted over his shoulder, “You don’t have to return it! Really! Please just let me live!”

Qian Qi looked down at the designer jacket, then at her scuffed old leather jacket.

The System floated an expression in her vision like pure judgment.

[>_>]

Qian Qi’s mouth tightened. “What are you looking at me like that for? I’m going to wash it and return it.”

[Heh.]

…

Qian Qi wandered campus for a while, and by the time she finished, her neck wound had completely healed. To avoid attention, she swung by the school doctor’s office and bought a roll of medical bandage.

She found a public faucet, washed the dried blood off her neck, then wrapped the bandage around a few times until it looked believable. Only then did she head back to the dorm.

Her roommates were studying. Chen Miao Miao glanced up and shot her a tight look.

Qian Qi ignored her. She went out to the wash balcony, found her battered little basin, and tossed the designer jacket in to soak.

Then she realized something.

She had no detergent.

She clicked her tongue and called into the room, “Chen Miao Miao. Let me use some of your detergent.”

Chen Miao Miao was texting. She jumped like she’d been stabbed. After a moment, she snapped, “Don’t use it all!”

Qian Qi looked at the pitiful handful left in the box.

Then, without hesitation, she poured every last grain into the water.

“Ha.”

So satisfying.

[You’re really evil…]

“Don’t say that. I’m a pure, wholesome, good person.”

She scrubbed at the soup stains, fingers working through the fabric—until she felt something in the pocket.

She pulled it out.

A student card.

“Magic Beast Department, third-year: Su Xing Le. Dorm B Building, Room 502.”

Qian Qi stared at the card, then at the jacket, and sighed like the universe had personally betrayed her.

[Let me guess—you’re thinking it’s a shame. Now you have no excuse not to return the jacket.]

Qian Qi stiffened. “I’m not. I didn’t. Stop making things up.”

She tucked the student card away, peeled off her blood-stained T-shirt, and started scrubbing it in the dirty water.

When she finished, she called again, “Chen Miao Miao. Let me use your clothes rack.”

Chen Miao Miao’s hand jerked mid-text. She leaned out and snapped, “You used to just take it! Why are you asking now? Are you sick?”

Then she met Qian Qi’s gaze.

Not obvious. Just… meaningful.

Chen Miao Miao’s stomach dropped.

Why was Qian Qi looking at her like that?

Did she know something?

No. Impossible.

Her plan with Chen Tong had been flawless. After it worked, she would’ve gotten 20,000. The only problem was that Qian Qi—who should’ve died—had somehow survived the fire qilin lotus.

Chen Miao Miao’s thoughts scrambled, but before she could speak, Qian Qi spoke first.

“I got hit in the head. I can’t remember which racks are yours anymore.”

Hit in the head?

Can’t remember?

Chen Miao Miao crept closer, eyes flicking to the medical bandage around Qian Qi’s neck. She still couldn’t understand why Qian Qi hadn’t died.

That wound had looked rotten. Torn. Impossible.

“Here,” Chen Miao Miao said finally, shoving her rack into Qian Qi’s hands.

Then she hesitated and asked, “Do you still remember… what you asked me yesterday?”

“Huh?” Qian Qi looked up, pure blank confusion. “Asked what?”

Chen Miao Miao’s heart leapt.

She almost laughed from relief. “Nothing. You—”

“You mean asking you about the fire qilin lotus’s weakness?”

Qian Qi’s voice turned soft and wrong.

She leaned in close, lips near Chen Miao Miao’s ear, and whispered like a ghost with teeth.

Qian Qi straightened and smiled sweetly. “You might not believe it, but I’m a pure, wholesome, good person.”

The System popped up a little doodle behind her back: a smiling figure hiding a knife.