Chapter 100: External Support

Bu Meicheng

“Ugh, I’m exhausted.”

That evening, White Li removed her wristband and collapsed onto the sofa.

Her silver-white hair fanned out, spreading across the cushion.

Her tail slipped from her waist, the tip brushing the floor.

Even though she’d confidently set the goal of taking first place, now that she actually had to start, she realized how difficult it was.

The scene had to be arranged, props needed polishing, the script had to be rewritten…

None of these could be accomplished just by talking, let alone rewriting the plot.

With just her and Lin Du, what could they possibly change?

It wasn’t like she could turn the Demon King into a fire-breathing Masked Rider, right?

White Li lay face-down on the sofa, burying her face in the cushion.

The whole fox wriggled like a caterpillar, twisting and groaning.

“Careful, don’t dirty the sofa.”

Lin Du closed the door and hung both their school bags on the coat rack.

“Oh.”

White Li stopped wriggling and lifted her head.

“So if I change into clean clothes, I can roll around all I want?”

Lin Du sighed.

“Do whatever you want.”

“So annoying, so annoying—”

White Li messed up her hair until it looked like a bird’s nest, then rolled sideways across the sofa.

Her tail swung back and forth behind her, almost knocking the tissue box off the coffee table.

Lin Du placed a glass of milk on the coffee table and looked down at White Li, who was throwing a tantrum on the sofa.

“Get some rest today,” he said.

“Drink the milk.

We’ll talk about everything tomorrow.

Anyway, tomorrow is Sunday, and there are still two weeks until the school anniversary.”

White Li sat up on the sofa and reached out to slap Lin Du’s waist.

“You’re really not in a hurry at all, are you?”

“What’s the use of being in a hurry?”

Lin Du shrugged as he sat down on the other end of the sofa.

“Since we’re aiming for first place, the script, stage, props, and performance—none of them can be skipped.

We have to raise the quality of everything.

And we need to be a cut above Sitiao Shizhi.”

“I’m a little glad now that I didn’t tell Shijo I was going for first place.”

White Li swayed her body.

“Otherwise, I’d really be in a tough spot.”

“True.”

Lin Du nodded.

“Your mood is much more stable than before.

Congratulations.”

“That was because of the Special Period…

It’s not like I could control it.”

White Li muttered softly.

She lifted her head and glanced at Lin Du.

“Or… what if I just pretend I never said that?

Nothing happened?”

“Either way is fine.

Up to you.”

Lin Du looked indifferent.

“But think about what Sitiao Shizhi’s performance is going to be like.”

Of course she could imagine it.

After the performance, Sitiao Shizhi stood under the spotlight, and everyone was applauding.

Meanwhile, she and Lin Du were backstage holding plastic swords and cardboard shields, like two extras who had wandered onto the wrong set.

Just thinking about it made the flame of resentment flare up again.

White Li was about to speak when she suddenly remembered something.

She turned her head sharply and slapped Lin Du’s shoulder hard.

“Hey, I almost forgot,” she said, her voice rising.

“Sitiao Shizhi said you performed together last year.

What’s that about?

Spill it!”

Lin Du looked down at the small foot resting on his leg, but didn’t move it away.

White Li leaned against the sofa, her legs draped over his thighs, staring straight at him.

“Uh…”

He paused for a moment, then spoke.

“Last year, it was… like an instrumental performance or something.”

“What kind of instrumental performance?

You play an instrument?”

“Stare—”

White Li couldn’t stand his stare and looked away.

“It was Sitiao Shizhi playing the piano.

I was beside her… as a statue.”

“Statue?!”

White Li’s eyes widened even more.

“Like one of those abstract statues.”

Lin Du gestured with his hands.

“My whole body was painted.

Gray.

Didn’t move.”

He pulled out his phone, scrolled through the campus forum, opened a post, and turned the screen toward her.

It read:

Red Sands Middle School’s 24th Anniversary School Anniversary, Gold Award Announced.

The picture was a stage photo.

Sitiao Shizhi wore a white backless gown, the hem spreading down the steps.

She sat at the piano, her fingers resting on the keys.

Not far behind her stood a boy painted in grayish brown, looking at a loss.

His limbs were stiff, his shoulders slightly hunched, as if frozen in place.

“You know how she is—she won’t stop until she gets what she wants.

I had no choice, so I agreed,” Lin Du said.

White Li looked at the bewildered Lin Du in the photo and suddenly burst out laughing.

“Pfft—hahaha!”

Lin Du gave an awkward smile and put his phone away.

“So you see, I was just a prop on the side.

To beat her, we can’t take the conventional route.

We need to innovate in content.

Props and stage setup can come later.”

“Mm,” White Li nodded, wiping the tears from the corners of her eyes.

“I understand…”

“I think we need to find some outside help.”

Inside the Memory Space.

“Welcome, Fox Sister.”

Chi Yu stood at the village entrance, hands behind his back, his golden eyes curving into crescent moons.

White Li stepped forward.

“Don’t look so angry, Chi Yu.

We’re not here to borrow your power.”

She waved her hands.

“And… you.”

“By the way, my name is White Li.”

She turned and pointed at Lin Du behind her.

“His name is Lin Du.”

“Okay, Sister White Li.”

Chi Yu nodded, his tone softening a bit, but he still didn’t look directly at Lin Du.

“So… what do you need me for?

Or are you just here to chat?”

“Actually, we have something we want you to take a look at.”

White Li nodded toward Lin Du.

Lin Du took a stack of papers from behind him and handed them to Chi Yu.

The edges of the pages were curled—it was a printed script.

As the user of the wristband, Lin Du could bring small external objects into the Memory Space: paper, pens, photographs.

Anything larger wouldn’t work.

Chi Yu took them, lowered his head, and flipped through page by page.

His eyes moved slowly across the paper, his red hair falling over his forehead.

“I don’t know if you can read our script.”

White Li rubbed her hands together.

“We’re rewriting a standard hero-defeats-demon-king story.

And we thought, since this is an isekai theme, you’d probably be more familiar with it than us.

So we wanted your opinion on how to make it… more creative.”

Chi Yu finished the last page, closed the script, and looked up.

“Yeah, I can read it.”

He hugged the script to his chest, a faint smile curling at the corner of his mouth.

“Don’t think that just because I’m inside this gem, I don’t know anything.

I can still sense what’s going on outside, more or less.”

Chi Yu tilted his face upward.

The light filtering through the peach blossom tree fell into his golden pupils, sparkling like crushed gold.

“Demon King and Hero—that really is a worn-out story.”

He paused.

“Actually, I have an idea.

Do you want to hear it?”

“Yes! Yes!”

Chi Yu leaned in mysteriously, stood on tiptoe, cupped his hand around his mouth, and whispered a few words into White Li’s ear.

White Li’s eyes grew wider and wider, her mouth slowly opening.

Then she suddenly straightened up and clapped her hands together.

“No way!

Genius!”