In novels, the green-tea supporting girl only appeared when the plot needed her.
The moment she was no longer useful, she was discarded without a second thought.
Who cared whether she lived or died?
And because of that…
At this very moment, Chi Chuchu felt as though enemy troops had already reached the city gates.
As though death was staring her right in the face.
After dropping An Lisheng off, the driver didn’t even bother asking where she wanted to go. He simply drove her to an upscale apartment building near A University.
Judging from the strange sense of familiarity the room’s decor gave her, this was probably where Chi Chuchu usually lived. Compared to the enormous luxury villa owned by the Chi family, this place felt much more like home.
Unfortunately, she had no time to think about that.
After some effort, she managed to find the contact information of a fellow student from the Acting Department. Following a lengthy round of carefully disguised probing, she finally pieced together the rough outline of tomorrow’s midterm exam.
As one of the nation’s most prestigious universities, A University’s Acting Department naturally ranked among its flagship programs.
Unlike the Computer Science Department’s straightforward written exams, however, acting students faced a far broader range of assessment options.
Recitations.
Sketch performances.
Talent showcases.
Vocal performances.
Traditional arts.
Improvisation.
Any of them could become part of the examination.
And among all of them, the most critical fact was—
The green-tea little sister was an academic genius.
Chi Chuchu, who had spent every day since transmigrating into the novel scrambling to avoid death flags and survive the endless romantic battlefield:
How the hell was she supposed to keep up this character setting?!
But that wasn’t even the worst part.
The system, which seemed to take immense pleasure in digging pits for her, chose that exact moment to appear.
“Relevant event detected. The Green Tea Survival System is honored to serve you.”
“…”
What the fuck?!
Before Chi Chuchu could protest, the system rattled off its announcement at lightning speed.
“As the goddess of A University, surely a mere Acting Department midterm is no challenge for you.
“In that case, why not shine brilliantly during tomorrow’s examination, firmly establish your flawless fairy-goddess persona, and strive to become the most hardworking green-tea little sister possible~”
“…”
Just kill me.
Right now.
Because she had absolutely no memories related to acting, Chi Chuchu could only adopt a last-minute cramming strategy.
Maybe, just maybe, she could find some old notes or performance journals hidden somewhere in the apartment.
Fortunately, heaven rewarded perseverance.
After a long search, she really did find something.
Holding a green-covered notebook she had dug out from a hidden compartment in the cabinet, Chi Chuchu’s eyes narrowed sharply.
Wait a second.
Wasn’t the evidence the heroine used to expose her “soccer team” in the original novel… some mysterious notebook?
A strange sense of solemnity settled over her.
Carefully, she opened it.
“Ding—Congratulations, Host. You’ve obtained S-Rank Item: Tea Tea Notebook.”
Holy shit.
So it really was that thing?!
Her hands trembling, Chi Chuchu flipped through the pages.
The dense contents nearly made her choke on her own breath.
She snapped the notebook shut again at lightning speed.
Inside was an exhaustive record of every boyfriend’s preferences.
Their schedules.
Their routines.
Their likes and dislikes.
The similarities and differences between them.
Detailed response strategies.
Contingency plans.
Everything.
The level of detail was terrifying.
No wonder the heroine had managed to turn her entire “soccer team” against her so easily.
This wasn’t evidence.
This was a death sentence.
The first thing Chi Chuchu wanted to do was destroy it.
Destroy the evidence.
Avoid her own miserable Bad Ending.
Unfortunately—
“‘Tea Tea Notebook’ is a system-issued S-Rank item. Due to plot protection mechanisms, it cannot be destroyed by human means~”
Chi Chuchu replied expressionlessly,
“Oh.”
At this point, she fully understood the system’s malicious sense of humor.
Ever since entering the novel, her memories had become blurry.
The fragments she’d inherited from the original owner were incomplete and broken.
Whenever she encountered plot-related characters—especially the male and female leads—or even glanced at the endless string of boyfriend names in Chi Chuchu’s contacts, her memories became chaotic and distorted.
According to the system, this was called “data integration.”
Only after reaching specific plot checkpoints would she be granted access to corresponding character information.
In simpler terms—
She was expected to stumble through the story blindfolded while the system spent most of its time playing dead.
The little bastard only showed up when it wanted to assign missions.
What a carefree existence.
Whatever.
The exam tomorrow came first.
Chi Chuchu frowned.
As for the fact that the handwriting throughout the notebook was identical to her own, the system claimed it had been generated using her handwriting in order to maintain narrative consistency and character logic.
Having consumed countless melodramatic webnovels, Chi Chuchu knew exactly where this was heading.
One day, the heroine would inevitably wave this notebook in front of everyone as irrefutable evidence.
From the system’s perspective, the arrangement made perfect sense.
All she could do was accept it.
Suppressing the faint irritation and anxiety in her chest, she removed her makeup, washed up, and went to bed.
Since she was already here, she might as well make the best of it.
Besides, the system still hadn’t told her what the punishment for mission failure would be.
At the moment, nothing was more important than sleep.
She drifted off quickly.
What Chi Chuchu didn’t notice was the phone resting silently on her bedside table.
Its screen lit up in the darkness.
The glow lingered for a long time before gradually fading away.
The missed call was from Jian Shi.
The next morning, Chi Chuchu was rudely awakened by the system blasting “Good Luck Comes” directly into her brain.
Still groggy and carrying a serious case of morning irritability, she was about to explode when the song abruptly froze on the lyric:
“Good luck comes, wishing you good luck—”
Then it cut off completely.
The sudden silence left her strangely empty inside.
Her brain finally caught up.
Right.
The exam.
She had an exam today.
Under the system’s relentless urging, Chi Chuchu dragged herself to the vanity and sat down, preparing to do her makeup as though completing a chore.
Then she froze.
“…?”
The girl reflected in the mirror possessed skin as fresh and translucent as a lotus emerging from water.
Her delicate features were lively and breathtakingly beautiful.
Even the few strands of messy bedhead somehow looked effortlessly enchanting.
This was a face that required absolutely no enhancement.
A perfectly flawless face.
Chi Chuchu’s brain stalled.
After a long pause, she hesitantly asked the system,
“Do I really need makeup?”
Yesterday’s styling had been done by a professional makeup artist for a formal banquet.
Today’s mission was an acting exam.
If her amateur makeup skills ruined this goddess-tier face, she’d be finished.
The system fell silent.
Then finally replied,
“…Just put on some lipstick.”
Chi Chuchu blinked.
She casually grabbed a glossy lipstick from the table.
Once she finished tracing her lips, a vivid peach-blossom flush instantly bloomed across her pale features.
The effect was stunning.
Dangerously beautiful.
Looking at the familiar yet unfamiliar girl in the mirror, she suddenly felt as though she were staring at her former self.
After a long silence, she spoke softly.
“Even though I’ve lost my memories… even though I know nothing about my past anymore, and can’t even remember what I used to look like…”
Her gaze remained fixed on the reflection.
Carefully choosing her words, she continued,
“I still feel like…”
A smile slowly appeared.
“I was probably just as pretty as her.”
The girl in the mirror smiled back.
Bright-eyed.
Radiant.
Alive.
Thrown into a completely unfamiliar world, trapped by an unavoidable plot and a system that seemed determined to make her suffer, most people would have given up by now.
But Chi Chuchu refused to.
The system remained silent all the way until she climbed into the car heading for campus.
A University was one of the country’s top comprehensive universities, and its Acting Department was among the most coveted programs in the nation.
Many of today’s well-known stars had graduated from there.
Chi Chuchu arrived early.
The moment many of her classmates saw her, they froze.
Their eyes filled with admiration.
And something else.
Scrutiny.
Wariness.
The title of “A University’s Goddess” was famous enough that many people had heard her name long before ever meeting her.
And students who could enter the Acting Department were certainly not blind.
Their observational skills bordered on frightening.
When they realized Chi Chuchu had arrived at the exam venue wearing little more than bare-faced makeup, subtle gasps spread through the crowd.
The astonishment in their eyes was impossible to hide.
Becoming the department goddess clearly required more than just maintaining a carefully crafted image.
The evidence was obvious.
Chi Chuchu consistently ranked first in the class.
She had collected scholarships since enrollment.
Giving speeches as a student representative was routine.
Despite being only a freshman, her beauty and acting talent had already earned her numerous audition invitations.
If she wanted to preserve this top-student persona, the original owner clearly possessed genuine ability.
Lost in anxious thoughts about the upcoming exam, Chi Chuchu failed to notice the examination hall gradually falling silent.
Only when people around her suddenly inhaled sharply did she finally look up.
And immediately met a pair of smiling peach-blossom eyes.
“You’re Professor Zhou’s student, Chi Chuchu, right?”
The young man paused before speaking gently.
“Your professor’s been looking for you everywhere. I’m Jian Shi, one of today’s teaching assistants. I’m helping him bring you over.”
He looked young.
Handsome.
His features were clean and refined, but the naturally affectionate curve of his peach-blossom eyes gave him a dangerously charming air.
Tall and lean, he even bent slightly while speaking to her, every gesture polite and considerate.
Like a spring breeze.
Even without seeing the sudden excitement on her classmates’ faces, memories about him had already surfaced in Chi Chuchu’s mind.
Jian Shi.
The genius madman who graduated early from A University’s Directing Department.
His first film had been banned domestically due to its controversial content.
Yet after being submitted overseas, it shocked everyone by winning a prestigious Golden Award at Venice.
Because his father owned a wildly successful entertainment company, netizens jokingly referred to him as the “Entertainment Industry Crown Prince.”
His exceptional looks and talent made him an idol among countless students.
As for his role in the novel—
Jian Shi was the villainous second male lead who was practically inseparable from the green-tea supporting heroine.
No matter which route the story followed, he always ended up becoming Chi Chuchu’s partner in crime.
In short—
Childhood friends.
Definitely not partners-in-crime.
The system immediately chimed in:
“Key plot character detected. Please seize this opportunity to establish a strong foundation with your future troublemaking companion.”
“…”
Chi Chuchu followed Jian Shi out of the examination hall.
The further they walked, the more deserted the path became.
Neither of them spoke.
Eventually, they arrived outside an abandoned records room.
Even though she’d mentally prepared herself, Chi Chuchu still wasn’t ready for what happened next.
Jian Shi kicked the door open.
Then shoved her inside.
The smiling young man pressed her against the wall.
Gone was the warm, courteous senior from moments ago.
Those captivating peach-blossom eyes stared straight at her with shameless intensity.
The corner of his lips lifted.
His lazy, smiling voice echoed clearly through the silent archives room.
“So…”
“Why didn’t you answer my calls?”
