System Salvation & Midnight Tango
661 Words
**Scene 1: The Rejection**
Yuan recoiled as if her fingertips dripped acid. "Don’t touch me."
Ye Yingli froze, the words carving deeper than any blade. She’d armored herself for cold indifference or even theatrical rage – but this raw, visceral disgust left her mentally hemorrhaging.
*He forgave the classmate who stole his scholarship. He nursed that mangy campus cat back to health. Why not me?*
By the time the medal ceremony’s canned applause faded, Yuan had already vanished – predictably ditching the principal’s soporific closing speech. *"Listening to bureaucrats blather should count as psychological torture,"* he’d once joked during their library study sessions.
Her friend Xu Xiaohua found her hours later, still statue-still on the rain-smeared field. "Ye! You missed my pole-vaulting world record!" Xu huffed, oblivious to the emotional Chernobyl before her.
"Migraine," Ye Yingli lied, reassembling her ice-queen mask with practiced precision.
---
#### **Scene 2: Daddy’s Little Iceberg**
Midnight found Ye Yingli pacing her father’s palatial mansion – a museum of Ming vases and pretentious calligraphy scrolls. The man himself sat sipping pu’er tea like a Qing dynasty emperor cosplayer.
"Did Fenghai’s crown jewel secure her throne?"
"Silver." The word tasted like ash.
"Ah." He set down the celadon teacup with theatrical precision. "I observed today’s… *spectacle*."
Her porcelain composure cracked. "You stalked me?"
"Quality control." He swiped his tablet to reveal Yuan’s winning shot. "Your grip faltered here. Why?"
"Sun glare."
"Liar." His chuckle echoed through the cavernous hall. "You’re still that child who cried over melted gelato. All frost, no substance."
---
#### **Scene 3: Gacha Nightmares**
3 AM. Phone glare painted Ye Yingli’s face ghostly blue as she glared at the notification:
**[SYSTEM ALERT: Fix Your Tragic Simp Life™!]**
**[CONGRATS! You’ve pulled SSR: “Unbroken Ambition - Yuan Shenglin”!]**
**[WARNING: Rival bidder “An●” detected! Current offer: ¥50,000]**
"¥100,000!" She stabbed the bid button like exorcising demons.
**[VICTORY! You’ve purchased a digital boyfriend!]**
The simulation booted with cruel efficiency:
**[Yuan’s Affection Meter: -1000 (Vermin Tier)]**
**[Objective: Achieve “Tolerable Human” Status]**
---
#### **Scene 4: Operation Nostalgia Bomb**
Her pixelated avatar materialized at Yuan’s crumbling apartment, arms laden with Hermès gift boxes. His mother – face etched with years of medical bills and disappointment – blocked the doorway.
"Yingli? After the graduation incident…"
"I’ve changed!" The avatar deployed nuclear-grade puppy eyes. "I’ll fund A-Lin’s entire tutoring venture!"
**[CHOICE: A) Bribe B) Grovel C) Food Warfare]**
Ye Yingli selected C: "Remember your dry-fried chicken feet? I’ve had nightmares about supermarket knockoffs."
Mrs. Yuan’s defenses crumbled like week-old mantou.
**[Progress: 15%! New Quest: Chicken Feet Diplomacy]**
---
#### **Scene 5: Rain-Soaked Redemption**
The simulation fast-forwarded through montages:
**[Yuan arrives at your mansion dripping wet. “This. Is. Strictly. Business.”]**
**[You “accidentally” flood the bathroom. “Oh nooo~ My delicate ankleee~”]**
**[Yuan’s resolve lasts precisely 3.2 seconds before caveman instincts override common sense…]**
---
#### **Scene 6: Wet T-Shirt Championship**
Steam fogged the bathroom as Yuan peeled off his soaked shirt, water cascading down battle-scarred abs that could’ve inspired Greek sculptures. Ye Yingli’s avatar bit her lip hard enough to draw digital blood. "Scared of a little water, Mr. Champion?"
"Less talking." He yanked her into the tub like hauling cargo.
What followed wasn’t lovemaking so much as aquatic MMA – all snarled teeth, territorial splashing, and a shampoo bottle to the eye. The avatar emerged looking like a drowned raccoon, mascara bleeding, hair defying the laws of physics.
**[Affection Meter: ??? System Overload]**
**[Achievement Unlocked: “Wet Chicken Award”]**
---
#### **Scene 7: Morning After Math**
Dawn painted the room in awkward hues as Yuan dressed with military precision. The avatar attempted a sultry stretch. "So… breakfast?"
"Here’s your lesson plan." He slapped a 40-page syllabus on the nightstand. "Memorize chapters 1-3 by Friday."
As the door slammed, the system pinged:
**[New Quest: Survive Calculus & His Cold Shoulder!]**
**[Reward: Emotional Damage Resistance +5%]**
- Writer
