Why would Ji Jiayu suddenly call her?
Li Tangli hadn’t been able to spare him a thought these past few days.
For one thing, creditors had come pounding on the door demanding payment by force, and Zhang Meiting’s health had taken a turn for the worse, forcing a long hospital stay. Rushing her to the hospital, transferring her to another one, moving house—one mishap after another had come crashing down, and it was only today that Li Tangli had finally managed to get things settled, more or less.
For another, Li Tangli had already privately written the mission off as a failure. Part of the reason she hadn’t reached out to Ji Jiayu these past few days was tangled up with a subconscious sense of giving up.
In truth, the System had never been clear about what counted as completing the mission—Li Tangli had been fumbling in the dark from the very start.
For one, the so-called “conquer the male lead” objective—the System only said she needed to make him fall for her. But that was far too vague. How exactly was “falling for her” supposed to be measured?
Li Tangli had once asked whether there was some concrete standard. The System had gone completely silent on the matter.
So all she could do was guess, based on past missions and targets, that the mission probably failed the moment the male lead fell for someone else.
Her growing unease also stemmed from the System’s absence lately. In the previous world, the System would still occasionally pop up to hint at her next move. But this time, it had simply dumped the original text of the novel on her and then vanished without a trace, never to be summoned again.
Whenever she called out to it, it responded like some pre-programmed robot, mechanically repeating the exact same line.
[…Please stay in character and conquer the male lead. Only then can you wake up and go home.]
This had shaken her already unsteady state of mind, leading her to suspect that this world might be her last chance.
When she learned Shu Ran had appeared on the scene, and that she and Ji Jiayu had in all likelihood already developed feelings for each other, a wave of helpless despair had swept over her, leaving her waiting only for the System’s final verdict.
But unexpectedly, even now, no notification of mission failure had ever sounded.
Why was that?
Before Li Tangli could think it through any further, the phone in her palm buzzed nonstop. Not far away, Gu Zhi was gazing steadily at her, waiting for her to come over.
She caught an inexplicable whiff of gunpowder in the air and swallowed. For some reason, she had a gut feeling that if she obediently walked over, the next thing he’d do was push things further and demand she put the call on speaker.
She tried to argue her way out of it. “It’ll be quick, I’ll just take it here, is that all right?”
What was there that couldn’t be said in front of him? Did she really need to hide from him just to talk to her boyfriend?
Gu Zhi’s expression stayed flat. He didn’t press the matter further, turning instead to head to the kitchen to dish out the rice.
Li Tangli sidled a couple of steps toward the window and finally pressed the answer button. Black Lotus Novel Reading — Black Lotus Novel
“Li Tangli.”
There seemed to be wind blowing on the other end of the line. Ji Jiayu’s voice came through. “Have you been busy these past few days? Too busy to remember I exist?”
Ji Jiayu was standing on the balcony, his expression irritable. He wore only a pair of loose black trousers, the hems pooling at his feet; bare from the waist up, his torso covered in a fine, well-proportioned layer of muscle.
The evening breeze tousled his hair, strands sweeping across his eyes, but he paid it no mind. He propped both arms on the railing, and even as he laid into Li Tangli with accusations, his hand tapped open their chat window for the fourth time—the last message Li Tangli had sent him was still stuck at three days ago.
Li Tangli found it strange. Usually when she messaged him, Ji Jiayu didn’t so much as glance at it most of the time—so he’d actually known she’d been messaging him nonstop all along?
But Ji Jiayu’s voice was fairly even, not sounding like he was truly angry.
Li Tangli explained, “My mom got sick and was hospitalized, so I’ve been a bit busy these past few days.”
The other end seemed to startle for a moment. Only after a few seconds did he speak again. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
The night it happened, you were still out at the beach with Shu Ran. And it wasn’t even you who took me home that night, it was—
Li Tangli glanced back at that thought, thinking, your uncle already helped me out.
Not wanting to get into the details with him any further, Li Tangli brushed past it. “It’s fine, she’s doing better now.”
Something had happened to her family, and he hadn’t asked or cared in the slightest, on top of trying to break up with her. Ji Jiayu fell silent for a moment, then spoke up on his own. “How much do you need? I’ll transfer it to you.”
The cards under his name had all been frozen by Gu Zhi a while back; the only one he could currently use had a spending limit. If it wasn’t enough, he’d just have to mention it to his uncle or his mom.
If he did nothing at all, he couldn’t help but feel guilty.
But unexpectedly, Li Tangli didn’t take the out he’d offered her. “Thanks, Jiayu, but I don’t need it anymore.”
He said, surprised, “You really don’t need it?”
“Really.”
Ji Jiayu sounded half-convinced. “Fine. Let me know if you need anything. I’ll be heading back soon, we’ll see each other in a few days.”
Li Tangli didn’t answer right away. She hesitated, then asked in a small voice, “Jiayu, that call last time—were you just speaking out of anger?”
The evening wind suddenly picked up, shredding his voice into something distorted.
Ji Jiayu’s answer was ambiguous. “…Let’s just leave things as they are for now.”
Her heart sank. Before she could press further, Gu Zhi’s calm voice rang out behind her.
“Done talking? Come eat.”
His timing was uncannily perfect. Not too early, not too late—right at the second before she was about to hang up, timed so that whoever was on the other end of the call would catch it clearly.
Li Tangli first turned, startled, to look at him, then panicked and clapped a hand over the phone’s mouthpiece to try to muffle it—but it was already too late.
Flustered, Li Tangli heard a furious demand from the other end. “Who’s that talking? Li Tangli, which random man are you fooling around with?”
He was seething, as if someone had just cuckolded him.
Li Tangli’s fingertip trembled, and out of pure reflex, she hit end call.
Staring in disbelief at the cut-off call screen, Ji Jiayu was just about to call back when, without warning, a warm female body pressed itself against his back.
His frame went rigid, and his voice turned cold. “Shu Ran, get up.”
Shu Ran, whose face bore a good five-tenths resemblance to her senior schoolmate’s, pressed her charming face against his shoulder and broke into a smile at him.
Back with Li Tangli, she stared blankly at her phone, racing to think of how to explain herself.
At that moment, Gu Zhi spoke again. “Did I interrupt you two?”
Li Tangli snapped back to herself. The one truly responsible was standing right there at the dining table, saying with perfect composure, “The food’s getting cold. You still need to bring dinner to the hospital later—come eat first.”
“…Alright, just a moment.”
Her head was still ringing with the nonsense Ji Jiayu had spouted—random man, fooling around, that sort of thing—and applying it to Gu Zhi made it hard for her to even look at him for a second.
Still, even though she’d angered Ji Jiayu, Li Tangli wasn’t about to take it out on Gu Zhi for no reason. It wasn’t his fault, she thought—he’d only meant well by speaking up.
But she couldn’t just leave Ji Jiayu hanging either. She came up with an excuse about being out at a meal with coworkers, steeled herself, and sent it off to him—whether it would actually fool him was another matter.
The truth was that it was Gu Zhi who’d gotten her mother to the hospital and who’d offered her a place to stay. On the surface, there didn’t seem to be anything too outrageous about it. BLACK LOTUS Novel Chapters | BLACK LOTUS NOVEL
But perhaps because explaining it all felt like too much trouble, Li Tangli chose once again to keep it hidden.
In front of Ji Jiayu, she always leaned toward erasing Gu Zhi’s presence entirely, rather than coming clean.
The two of them sat across from each other. An orange-blossom tablecloth was spread over the walnut dining table, warm light spilling down from the pendant lamp above.
The small yellow croaker was fresh and delicious. Gu Zhi set down his chopsticks and remarked, “The fish is good.”
Li Tangli looked up in surprise, meeting those deep gray eyes head-on, and felt a flicker of bashfulness. “It’s just a home-cooked dish.”
“So? You always seem to be putting yourself down.”
His words caught her off guard.
She lowered her eyelids and saw his sharply defined hand resting on the tabletop; under her gaze, his fingertip suddenly gave the table a light tap, as if to nudge her, in some roundabout way, to hurry up and answer.
Facing herself honestly wasn’t an easy thing, especially in front of someone else. Li Tangli said, struggling to get the words out, “I’m… just very ordinary. There’s nothing much to say.”
Gu Zhi didn’t press her any further.
The two of them got up to clear the dishes, and Gu Zhi rolled up his sleeves, signaling that he’d wash them.
Li Tangli couldn’t out-argue him. She thought back to the first time they’d met—that Gu Zhi, so aloof and arrogant—and then looked at the man before her now, bent over the sink in a shirt, washing dishes, and couldn’t help but feel a strong sense of unreality.
She packed up the lunchbox, lingered at the hospital for a while, and only turned back afterward. It was nearly nine by the time she got back to the apartment.
The moment she opened the door, the place wasn’t dark and silent like it usually was. The living room lights were on, soft light spilling all the way down to her feet.
The TV was playing a foreign documentary. Gu Zhi sat on the sofa; he’d already showered and changed into a set of gray loungewear, and since he was watching the screen, he had his glasses on. He turned his face toward her. “You’re back?”
His tone was completely natural, as if he’d been waiting specifically for her to come home.
…Home?
“Mm.”
Her heartbeat picked up a few beats. Li Tangli hung her bag by the entryway, feeling for the first time the reality of living together with a man.
Early the next morning, Li Tangli dragged herself out of bed, still half-asleep. Lying in bed the night before, she’d kept turning over in her mind whether the mission really counted as a failure or not, trying to call out to the System, only to get the same mechanical response as ever.
Ji Jiayu, at least, had replied to her. His temper had cooled down, and he’d started to feel it hadn’t really been worth it, blowing up at Li Tangli like that.
Frankly speaking, for an ordinary woman like Li Tangli, landing him in the first place had already been an outrageous stroke of luck. Where was she supposed to find some other man better than him in every way to fall for instead? It was absolutely absurd.
Once he’d talked himself into that, his attitude cooled off again, and all he sent back, in a sarcastic, needling tone, was: [You’d better be.]
Her mind full of troubles, Li Tangli hadn’t slept well all night, and still had to get up early to handle her online side job.
As usual, she rubbed her eyes groggily, pushed open the door, and walked into the bathroom—only for her forehead to suddenly collide with someone’s back.
“Ugh…”
The collision knocked her mind wide awake. She abruptly realized: today, there was someone else in this apartment.
She looked straight up. The man turned his face to the side—the lower half of it still covered in unshaved white shaving foam, hair falling loose over his brow, one hand gripping a razor, an eyebrow raised as he looked at her.
Li Tangli found, against all odds, a hint of teasing mischief on that otherwise serious face.
Gu Zhi watched the girl’s eyes, wide with shock, and said deliberately, “So, are you planning to stand here and watch me shave?”
