Blame The Villain For Being Too Beautiful

Villainous Singer (16)

Being a figure comparable to Proxima Centauri, the passing of Old Xu naturally captured people’s attention. Following the discovery of Old Xu’s death, various factions swiftly converged on the scene: media, military, police, and others.

It remains unclear which media entity released the video footage of Old Xu’s death scene. The same Old Xu who had been jovially conversing in a live graduation test had now transformed into a lifeless cadaver. His eyes exhibited profound terror, as if he had borne witness to something profoundly incredulous. A distinct scar marred his temple, resembling an abrasion where his skin had been brutally rent, mingling with the blood on his cheek, presenting an uncanny spectacle.

Nonetheless, the official response was rapid and decisive. The video capturing Old Xu’s death scene disappeared from public platforms shortly thereafter.

Previously, instances had arisen where videos depicted the accidental deaths of individuals of high standing, sometimes even in more distressing contexts than Old Xu’s. During those episodes, the official stance amounted to condemnation, but this marked the first instance of such an assertive and expeditious approach to video removal.

Could there be an element of intrigue surrounding Old Xu’s demise?

When the video began circulating, Xu Yi felt a strong sense of dissonance regarding Old Xu’s cause of death. However, pinpointing exactly what felt amiss proved difficult for Xu Yi at that moment.

As time gradually passed, news about Old Xu on that afternoon became more abundant. After years of gradual obscurity, Old Xu had reportedly been secretly researching a cross-century project and had already started to put it into practice, according to media reports.

The authorities even directly pressured the police to swiftly apprehend the perpetrator responsible for Old Xu’s death.

Old Xu’s demise almost entirely seized everyone’s attention. Few were left to pay any heed to Lin Ruoyu, who was in the process of terminating her contract with the management company, or to Xu Yi, who had just topped the graduation exam.

Failing to find any useful information, Xu Yi compelled herself to shift her focus. She messaged Lin Ruoyu, expressing the hope that she would return when she had the chance. Afterward, Xu Yi redirected her attention to her unfinished robot project.

This marked the first time Song Xu Yi had ventured into crafting humanoid robots. In the past, Song Xu Yi hadn’t delved into this domain. In contrast to her previous endeavors, she now placed a greater emphasis on logic and programming. Humanoid robots demanded a focus on human-like qualities, necessitating not only a certain level of expertise but also an acute aesthetic acumen. The objective was to acquaint these creations with human anatomy, comprehending intricacies ranging from skin textures to hair hues, aiming to achieve a verisimilitude1 that could believably deceive observers.

Recalling her time as a manga artist in a certain world, Song Xu Yi realized that mastering the human form had provided her a fundamental footing. With that base to build upon, even amidst a series of trial and error, after three days of painstaking efforts, Song Xu Yi successfully brought her first reasonably gratifying humanoid robot to life.

In retrospect, an inexplicable elation tinged with a hint of bashfulness surged within Song Xu Yi. She pondered whether Lin Ruoyu had picked up on the significance: the initial functional robot she had created had been presented to Lin Ruoyu, and now, her inaugural venture into humanoid robotics was also an offering dedicated to her. Mysteriously, their connection seemed to be deepening.

Yet, by the fourth day, Song Xu Yi’s initial exuberance gradually gave way to a rising concern.

Across these four days, Lin Ruoyu had remained conspicuously unresponsive to her messages. Even during periods of heightened activity in the past, Lin Ruoyu had consistently found time to acknowledge Song Xu Yi’s communications. This uncharacteristic silence, devoid of any reply whatsoever, was an unprecedented occurrence.

What has happened?

In fact, following Luo Xi’s words, Song Xu Yi had been nurturing suspicions that Old Xu’s death might be linked to Lin Ruoyu. As time passed, these suspicions were deepening…

Due to the police’s inability to apprehend Old Xu’s killer over an extended period, external speculation was growing more intense. The mounting pressure from public sentiment and higher-ranking officials was becoming increasingly formidable. The police had even questioned Song Xu Yi, given Old Xu’s arrangement to meet her the following day.

However, Song Xu Yi’s absence from the scene provided a substantial alibi, swiftly exonerating her from suspicion.

Song Xu Yi felt a considerable sense of concern. After all, she had mentioned Lin Ruoyu in her earlier communications with Song Yi, and there seemed to have been eavesdropping during their conversation’s abrupt termination. Song Xu Yi was anxious that this individual might report Lin Ruoyu.

However, for reasons unknown, the police had never cast suspicion on Lin Ruoyu.

Old Xu’s stature as a titan in the realm of robotics research made his demise a tremendous loss for the entire industry. To honor his memory, the registration process for the advanced robotics program at the graduate school was postponed by a week for the current cohort of graduates.

In a week’s time, Song Xu Yi would embark on her journey to the advanced institute for further studies in robotics. However, the institution maintained the strictest attendance regimen and implemented rigorous personal oversight. To prevent any potential leaks of classified information, students were forbidden from carrying their own neural interfaces (lightbrains), and leave was only granted once a month.

Initially, Song Xu Yi had presumed that she had ample time to celebrate with Lin Ruoyu before commencing her enrollment at the advanced institute. Yet, even as the sixth day approached, Song Xu Yi had not sighted Lin Ruoyu.

On the seventh day, the morning commenced with a heavy downpour. Proxima Centauri boasted the most sophisticated drainage system, and though the heavy rain didn’t amount to a natural catastrophe, the sound of raindrops incessantly tapping against the window sill still created an irksome cacophony.

Song Xu Yi was also uncertain about what was happening. She had always enjoyed good sleep quality, yet on this particular day, she woke up well before dawn had broken and found herself unable to drift back into slumber.

Reclining in bed, Song Xu Yi’s thoughts suddenly turned to the recently completed humanoid robot. Due to the necessity for the humanoid robot’s synthetic skin to receive ample sunlight exposure for a natural appearance and to ensure the robot’s prominence, Song Xu Yi had situated it on the windowsill.

However, the current downpour posed a problem. If the windows weren’t securely sealed, the rainwater could inflict substantial harm upon the robot’s exterior.

After pondering for a brief interval, Song Xu Yi eventually rose from her bed and ascended the stairs to Lin Ruoyu’s room.

Upon stepping inside, Song Xu Yi immediately furrowed her brows.

Lin Ruoyu’s room was initially equipped with an automated lighting system. However, for some unknown reason, as Song Xu Yi stepped inside, the lights in Lin Ruoyu’s room remained unlit.

Could the light fixture be faulty?

A faint rustling seemed to echo within the room. Yet, as Song Xu Yi’s eyes gradually acclimated to the subtle neon radiance seeping in from outside, outlining the dim ambiance, she couldn’t discern anything out of the ordinary.

The dawn had yet to break, and within the poorly lit surroundings, Song Xu Yi had no intention of addressing the potential issue with the malfunctioning lighting system at that moment. Instead, she navigated her way to the window in the obscurity and performed a brief examination. She realized that this room was outfitted with the most advanced automatic sealing system for its windows, effectively preventing even a solitary droplet of water from permeating.

With a sigh, Song Xu Yi settled herself onto the windowsill, drawing her knees close to her chest.

Upon further contemplation, Song Xu Yi realized she had been fretting over unfounded concerns. Lin Ruoyu was a major figure at the Colin Academy, and the accommodations provided for her certainly wouldn’t be lacking…

Nevertheless, amidst the multitudes of inhabitants on Proxima Centauri, everyone professed their adoration for Lin Ruoyu. Did they truly grasp the extent of her hardships?

For instance, the prevailing belief was that Lin Ruoyu had withdrawn from public view to recuperate from the legal battle with the management company. Only Song Xu Yi knew that Lin Ruoyu had genuinely gone missing…

Where could she be at this moment?

The temperature before dawn was slightly cool, and the rain outside persisted with a consistent “patter-patter,” seemingly growing more intense. After remaining seated for an extended duration, Song Xu Yi began to feel the chill. She contemplated shifting her position to the carpet. Suddenly, her hand encountered a damp patch on the floor—

Song Xu Yi momentarily froze, her eyes widening—

Water couldn’t penetrate through the window, so where could this water be coming from?

A certain possibility flickered through her mind, causing Song Xu Yi’s heart to quicken its pace, yet she maintained a composed demeanor. She rose gradually, her gaze rapidly sweeping across the room as she mentally invoked the system—

Perhaps due to an awareness that Song Xu Yi was soon to complete her mission and return home, the system had grown increasingly inert during this interval. When Song Xu Yi summoned it, it seemed to have been in a state of dormancy. Upon her prompting, it even executed a simulated yawn before speaking: “The person is hiding behind the curtain—”

“Huh?” Unexpectedly, the system’s voice abruptly shifted into one of profound disbelief: “She… How did she end up like this?”

What’s going on?

A sinking feeling settled in Song Xu Yi’s heart. She paid no heed to inquiring further from the system; her movements outpaced her thoughts. By the time Song Xu Yi fully grasped the situation, her hand had already drawn the curtain aside—

Undoubtedly, a shadow stood beyond the window. Illuminated by the subdued light, Song Xu Yi almost instantaneously recognized this silhouette as Lin Ruoyu.

“Ruoyu, what’s happened?” Song Xu Yi’s brow furrowed. “You’ve returned, so why are you hiding from me?”

Almost instinctively, Song Xu Yi reached for Lin Ruoyu’s hand, and it was only then that she realized Lin Ruoyu appeared as though she had just been lifted out of water—soaked to the bone. Her hand felt as cold as ice.

Lin Ruoyu’s hand twitched slightly, yet she remained silent.

She kept her head bowed, her long black hair obscuring her features. In the midst of darkness, Song Xu Yi struggled to discern her expression.

Since their acquaintance, Lin Ruoyu had perpetually exuded vibrancy, regardless of the circumstances. Even upon just waking, she resembled a lively and resplendent flower, lazily adoring her surroundings. Song Xu Yi had never witnessed Lin Ruoyu in such a dispirited and downcast state.

Unaccountably, Song Xu Yi was overcome by a sensation: the Lin Ruoyu before her appeared akin to a flower teetering on the edge of falling, as if she might crumble into pieces unless caught in time.

This sensation inundated Song Xu Yi with an overwhelming sense of unease.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to speak,” Song Xu Yi drew in a deep breath, modulating her tone to comfort Lin Ruoyu. “The light in your room is malfunctioning. We’ll come over to fix it when it’s daylight. For now, come downstairs with me to my room. Have some hot water to warm yourself up and then take a shower…”

Song Xu Yi tried to guide Lin Ruoyu downstairs, but she was utterly unmovable. Lin Ruoyu stood rooted to the spot, and rather than moving forward, she seemed to retreat slightly.

“Don’t look at me,” Lin Ruoyu eventually uttered. She retreated deeper into the shadows, her head lowered. “You go out first, and I’ll come to see you later.”

Her voice sounded rasp, as if she hadn’t spoken for days. The hand held by Song Xu Yi trembled faintly…

“She’s already said as much. Why not heed her words?”

The system in Song Xu Yi’s mind fell silent for a moment before releasing a sigh and speaking, “She’s also pitiable, and currently, it’s indeed somewhat inconvenient…”

However, Song Xu Yi’s brows furrowed tightly.

Numerous fragmented scenes flashed through her mind. There seemed to have been a person who liked hiding in the darkness. Song Xu Yi wanted to go and accompany her, yet her steps always faltered with timidity…

Despite constantly desiring to tell her: No matter what, she would always be there with her.

Suddenly, an unexpected pang of bitterness surged within her heart.

The mental imagery receded like the tide.

When Song Xu Yi became aware, she had already extended her arms and embraced Lin Ruoyu tightly. She couldn’t fathom her own actions. Tears suddenly streamed down her face, “We’ve depended on each other for so long, and you’ve helped me so much. When you’re facing difficulties, how could I abandon you?”

Lin Ruoyu’s body stiffened.

She seemed caught off guard by Song Xu Yi’s words. The usually sharp and quick-witted individual was momentarily rendered speechless. After a pause, she softly responded, “I’m in a disheveled state right now. It’s not a good look!”

“In the future, you won’t look any better when you’re old!” Song Xu Yi didn’t anticipate Lin Ruoyu’s reasoning for asking her to leave to be so preposterous. With determination fueled by a touch of stubbornness, she couldn’t hold back her retort, “If you care that much about appearances, then let’s just break off our friendship when we’re both old and unattractive!”

Lin Ruoyu held onto Song Xu Yi’s hand tightly, but her words remained absent, as if uncertain about what to say, and she didn’t continue speaking.

However, Song Xu Yi’s anger grew hotter and hotter. Frustration surged within her, and disregarding consequences, she tugged Lin Ruoyu forward, managing to shift her a small step.

“Xu Yi, this is what you said.”

Lin Ruoyu met Song Xu Yi’s gaze in the darkness. She smiled, “You said you would be with me until we’re old. Don’t even think about backing out of that promise…”

Lin Ruoyu seemed to revert to her previous, somewhat childlike demeanor around Song Xu Yi. With a gentle yet resolute action, she reached out and wrapped her arm around Song Xu Yi’s waist.

“You don’t have time to change your mind now!”

As Lin Ruoyu’s voice trailed off, the room’s lights suddenly switched on—

“—You!”

After adapting to the unexpectedly bright light, Song Xu Yi blinked her eyes and instinctively looked at the Lin Ruoyu in front of her:

In the glaring illumination, Lin Ruoyu appeared incredibly disheveled. Her hair cascaded freely over her shoulders and still carried traces of dampness. What stunned Song Xu Yi even more was Lin Ruoyu’s cheek—on one side, near the corner of her eye, there seemed to be a gash, oozing blood in a jarring and distressing sight…

The author has something to say:

Ah, unknowingly, this book has already reached one million words~