Xiao Yu woke up with a pounding headache and the taste of regret.
"The mission," Shiroi said without preamble, "is to make sure the plot doesn't end the way it originally did. Preferably, Zhao Chen and Rong Xichen end up together forever."
Xiao Yu blinked. "Huh?"
"And whatever you do," Shiroi continued, peeling an orange, "none of the three must die — not Zhao Chen, not Rong Xichen, and definitely not Yu Mian."
There was a long silence.
Then Xiao Yu sat bolt upright, ignoring the IV in his hand. "Wait—Rong Xichen?! As in THE Rong Xichen is in this game?"
"Yes," Shiroi said flatly. "Master is trapped here, and for him to be free, we must fix the plot."
"You—! Why didn't you tell me before?! Xi-ge is still as handsome as ever…" Xiao Yu swooned.
"He hates you," Shiroi said bluntly, popping an orange slice into his mouth.
That popped Xiao Yu's bubble real quick.
"Hey, kiddo," Xiao Yu muttered, rubbing his temple, "am I sick or something? Why am I in the hospital? The only time this character ends up here is when—"
"When master beats the living hell out of him and puts him in a coma," Shiroi finished. "Which he did. So congrats. You've officially hit rock bottom."
"Shit," Xiao Yu groaned. "Out of all the characters, you put me in the one with zero power and negative reputation. And on top of that, Xi-ge hates me. I got transmigrated by mistake, and now I have to survive a plotline where the only two people I care about either hate me or wish I was dead. Can it get any worse?!"
The door opened.
In walked Yu Mian.
She looked like sin incarnate — black glossy hair, full lips, hazel eyes that gleamed with calculation. She was wearing that smug little smirk of someone who knew they'd won.
"Well," she said sweetly, "you got beaten up real bad. Now that you've done your part, it's my turn. I'll have the last laugh."
She leaned forward, her voice dropping.
"And don't contact me after this. No matter what happens, you're on your own."
Then she turned and walked out, heels clicking like a death sentence.
Silence.
"That fucking bitch," Xiao Yu hissed. He grabbed the hospital phone and tried to dial Zhao Chen's number — only to hear the dead tone.
Blocked.
"Of course," he muttered. "Guess I'll have to wait till I get out of here."
He sank back into the bed, eyes narrowed.
He had two goals now.
Salvage things with Zhao Chen. Somehow get back in Xi-ge's good graces.
And maybe, just maybe… flip this shitty story on its head.
The door clicked shut behind Yu Mian, and Xiao Yu sat there for a long moment, fuming.
His fists clenched the sheets.
"That manipulative vixen," he muttered under his breath. "So that's how it is. Use me, then toss me out like trash?"
He scoffed. "Fine. You want a villain? I'll give you a fucking villain."
From the corner of the room, Shiroi gave a low whistle. "Wow. That switch-up was fast. You were crying like five seconds ago."
"I'm allowed to cry and slay," Xiao Yu snapped. "It's called range."
Shiroi rolled his eyes. "Whatever helps you cope."
Xiao Yu ignored him. He turned his attention inward, eyes cold and calculating — a rare sight for someone usually all glitter and drama.
First things first: Zhao Chen.
Xiao Yu bit his lip. "If I can't call him, I'll write him. He still has that little locker charm I gave him in freshman year... Right?"
He sat up, wincing at the pull of IV tubes, and rummaged for the hospital's stationery.
"Dear Zhao Chen," he mumbled, scribbling hastily. "No. Too formal."
He crumpled it and started again.
Chen-Chen,
I know you hate me right now. I deserve it.
But please… don't disappear.
You were always the brightest person in this ugly school. The only one who smiled at me like I wasn't a walking scandal.
I want to make it right. Please give me that chance.
I'll wait for you.
— Xiao Yu.
He folded it up and tucked it into the sleeve of his school blazer, which lay draped over the hospital chair.
"Shiroi," he said, "get this into his locker."
"I'm not your errand ghost," Shiroi grumbled.
"You messed up my entire life," Xiao Yu deadpanned. "This is literally the least you can do."
Shiroi vanished with a huff — but the paper disappeared with him.
Xiao Yu exhaled, slowly. Step one: in motion.
Now… for Rong Xichen.
The image of him storming into the classroom, eyes blazing, fists flying — Xiao Yu shivered. His heart did this annoying, fluttery thing.
"He was so hot," Xiao Yu muttered, then winced. "Right. Focus. He also nearly killed me."
Still. Something about Rong Xichen's reaction had stuck with him.
He hadn't just looked angry. He'd looked... betrayed.
Like Xiao Yu had hurt someone he cared about.
"Zhao Chen," Xiao Yu whispered. "So that's what he meant to you... Xi-ge."
He stared at the ceiling, expression unreadable.
"I'll fix this," he said softly. "Even if you never forgive me. Even if you still hate me in the end."
The next time we meet, I'll make sure it's me who surprises you.
Not the other way around.
Three days later, Xiao Yu limped through the school gates in the early hours of the morning. Hair disheveled, eye still faintly bruised, bandage peeking from his collar — he looked like a fallen prince crawling back from war.
Whispers rippled through the courtyard like wildfire.
"Is that Xiao Yu?"
"He came back?"
"Didn't Rong Xichen send him into a coma?!"
But Xiao Yu didn't flinch.
He walked straight into the school media lab, sat at a computer, cracked his knuckles, and typed into the anonymous school forum:
Thread Title: Slut, Desperate Beauty, Fallen Flower — The Truth You All Missed
Username: GuessWhoStillLooksGoodBeatenUp
Let's play a game, shall we?
Imagine a pretty boy.
Imagine he's smarter than he looks — which is hard, because all you see is how he looks.
Imagine he's petty, loud, dramatic. You hate him.
You love to hate him.
But what if I told you, he wasn't the real villain in this story?
Let's talk about Zhao Chen.
The supposed "slut," the "desperate flower."
That photo?
Fake.
Photoshopped.
And before you go, "omg stop lying, we saw it!" — tell me this:
Did anyone confirm it?
Did Zhao Chen ever speak?
Did the victim ever say it happened?
No.
You just believed it.
Because it was easier.
Now let's talk about Yu Mian.
Sweet, quiet, always-in-the-corner Yu Mian.
Ask yourself: Why was she at the party?
Why did her phone mysteriously vanish that night?
Why is she the one who ran to the principal the next morning like a wounded kitten?
Because Yu Mian was never a background character.
She was writing the script.
And me?
I played my role like an idiot.
I fell for her lies.
I wanted Zhao Chen to suffer — for reasons that don't even matter now.
But he didn't deserve what happened.
And I won't let you keep spitting on his name.
So from today on, you're not dragging me or Zhao Chen anymore.
You want to know who the real villain is?
She's probably reading this right now — lips trembling, wondering how her cute little puppet got a spine.
Surprise, bitch.
I grew one.
— X.Y.
Xiao Yu hit "POST" and walked out without waiting for the chaos.
By the time he got to class, the entire school was buzzing.
"He cleared Zhao Chen's name—"
"Wait... Yu Mian?"
"He's not even denying it! He admitted it! But blamed her—"
"It sounds so crazy, but... it fits...?"
"Wait, is that the same Xiao Yu who used to fake cry when his lip balm ran out??"
Yu Mian stormed into the courtyard like a thundercloud, her phone in hand.
"Who gave him access to the forum?!"
And from the hallway steps, Xiao Yu smiled faintly.
Let the games begin.