The playback of Fu Ying’s memory ended, and the audience finally understood why Fu Ying was so indulgent toward Li Yanqi—she was her savior.
[When Li Yanqi said no one could hurt her friend, she was so cool!]
[If I had a best friend like that, I’d be completely devoted to her too.]
[One injury in exchange for a lifetime of wealth? What a deal. Was this all calculated by Li Yanqi?]
[Very likely. At that point, Fu Ying was already Fu Ying, not Fang Ying.]
[Even so, it doesn’t change Li Yanqi’s gold-digging nature. She got close to Fu Ying for money.]
Liang Mengjia was using a burner account to post comments, and as expected, she quickly swayed the audience’s opinions. Viewers were highly sensitive to the characters’ actions, with some preferring to believe in rare conspiracy theories rather than what they saw on the surface.
“Let’s see how Li Yanqi keeps going if Fu Ying is gone next,” Wang Weilin said, now deeply intrigued by the drama’s plot. Even he had to admit this was far more engaging than traditional, scripted TV shows.
Li Yanqi had returned to the dorm. During that brief time, she’d visited the school’s public restroom, where the distinct sound of a bank transfer notification—audible only to her—confirmed that 5 million had hit her account.
Fu Ying’s efficiency was impressive, to say the least.
Smiling, Li Yanqi split the 5 million into several transfers, sending them all out. Soon, her bank balance reverted to its original 18.88 yuan.
So poor, she thought, chuckling self-deprecatingly.
In her previous life’s plot, Fu Ying was a minor character with little interaction with her. Early in the apocalypse, Fu Ying met a gruesome end, pushed into a zombie horde and devoured alive.
The night before her death, Fu Ying had told Li Yanqi she wanted to survive until the end. But the next day, she was gone.
When Li Yanqi returned to the real world, Fu Ying was one of the few who spoke up for her. However, public opinion was already set, and Fu Ying’s defense was quickly drowned out by the wave of criticism against Li Yanqi.
Her decision to stay close to Fu Ying wasn’t solely because Fu Ying was the only actor in easy mode.
Since they both wanted to survive until the end, Li Yanqi would honor her wish, letting her live freely and vibrantly in this world.
…
Back in the dorm, Fu Ying’s eyes lit up when she saw Li Yanqi return. “They found the anonymous poster. It’s that old romantic debt of yours.”
“Romantic debt? Me? I’m the poster child for keeping things clean,” Li Yanqi laughed as she changed her shoes, seemingly unbothered by the forum incident.
“You’re 'too' clean. Remember Deng Guang?” Fu Ying asked.
“Of course. It was him?” Li Yanqi said, feigning surprise.
In truth, Fu Ying was right—she didn’t need to go in person every time. But if she didn’t, how could she leave those photos and leverage them to push the story along her script?
“Don’t worry, my lawyer’s already suing him for invasion of privacy. He won’t be causing trouble anytime soon,” Fu Ying said casually.
“Thanks, I owe you one,” Li Yanqi said, her face full of gratitude.