Chapter 7: Cross That Bridge When We Come to It... Right?

After finishing their selections, they sat a while longer, listening to Qiu Wanrou's reminders about Flower God Festival etiquette, before Su Ruan and Yu Qinghe took their leave—one after the other.

Outside Yilan Garden, the morning light had fully spread, whitening the pebbled paths of the courtyard.

Su Ruan's feet throbbed. She leaned nearly half her weight on Lizi, shuffling forward one painful step at a time.

"Ruan Ruan."

Yu Qinghe deliberately slowed her pace, falling into step beside Su Ruan, her gaze dropping to her limping feet.

"Are your injuries any better?"

Su Ruan gave a glum "mm-hm" in response.

Yu Qinghe walked on, stepping on her own shadow. A beat of silence passed before she spoke again. "Those dresses and jewelry just now—if you truly liked them, I could have Yingdeng bring them to you later."

Su Ruan turned her head and met Yu Qinghe's eyes.

The look was calm, free of any false politeness. It seemed like a genuine offer to yield.

But warning bells jingled faintly in her mind.

"No need." Su Ruan turned back to watching the path. "Mother was right. Those colors and jewelry styles suit you better anyway."

Yu Qinghe's eyes flickered slightly. Her gaze lingered on Su Ruan's face for a moment before she said, "Ruan Ruan, you seem... different from before."

Su Ruan's heart dropped. Her back went rigid.

Here it comes. The heroine's sharp intuition.

She fought down the panic and forced a casual retort. "Different how? Don't get passive-aggressive with me!"

Yu Qinghe wasn't fazed by the attitude. She smiled faintly instead. "I'm just curious."

"Your wardrobe—nine out of ten pieces are moon-white, pale jade, sky blue. All understated, all elegant. Yet just now at Auntie's, you picked the brightest begonia red and the most vivid tourmaline set."

Her gaze was crystal clear, as if it could see straight into a person's heart.

"You used to hate flashy, eye-catching colors more than anything. What changed?"

A probe.

A bare-faced probe.

Su Ruan's fingertips went cold. Her mind raced.

The original Su Ruan had forced her vivid, striking features into muted, washed-out styles—imitating Yu Qinghe, trying to please Qiu Wanrou. It had backfired spectacularly, making her look like a cheap knockoff, all the more vulgar for the effort.

Now that she'd suddenly switched styles, no wonder it drew suspicion.

And this was Yu Qinghe—a heroine who hadn't spared her own cousin in the original novel. If she discovered that the person inside this body had been swapped, she wouldn't show an ounce of mercy.

But I can't panic.

Su Ruan drew a slow breath. When she raised her eyes again, her face wore a look of raw, reckless resignation.

"I was copying you. Copying how you dress, how you talk, how you walk..." She shrugged, voice flat and tired. "I thought if I imitated you well enough, Mother might look at me more."

She curled her lip.

"But I finally figured it out. Copying you does nothing. In Mother's eyes, the good one is always you. Whatever I wear, whatever I put on—it's always wrong, always out of place."

"So why keep torturing myself? I'll wear what I like and stop bothering."

Yu Qinghe listened in silence. The warmth in her expression dimmed, and something complicated moved behind her eyes.

A few breaths passed before she asked softly, "Is that all? No other reason?"

Su Ruan's chest tightened.

The heroine is sharp. She's not easy to fool.

"What else?!"

She tossed her chin up, instantly snapping back into her familiar bratty persona, voice climbing a few notches.

"What, I do you a favor and let you have the good stuff, and you're not happy? You want me to fight you for it?"

She reached straight for the dresses and jewelry box in Yingdeng's hands, making a show of grabbing.

"Fine! Give me everything!"

"The dress, the jewelry—and that robe you're wearing, I like that too. Take it off!"

"Second Miss!"

Yingdeng scrambled sideways, shielding the items in her arms and ducking behind Yu Qinghe, glaring at Su Ruan in shock and anger.

Yu Qinghe raised a hand to gently block her. The thin ice of scrutiny in her eyes seemed to thaw, replaced by a flicker of helplessness.

"Enough, Ruan Ruan... Your feet aren't healed yet. You need rest. Go back early."

Su Ruan hadn't actually intended to grab anything. She withdrew her hand and gave an impatient huff.

"Yu Qinghe, let me make this clear! From now on, we stay out of each other's way. Neither of us provokes the other. Peace for everyone!"

She didn't wait for Yu Qinghe's response. She tugged Lizi's arm, none too gently.

"What are you standing there for? Let's go!"

Mistress and maid turned and limped away toward Huazhao Pavilion.

It wasn't until they'd gone far, rounded a moon gate, and completely lost sight of Yilan Garden that Su Ruan finally let the tension go. A fine sheen of cold sweat clung to her back.

"Miss, why didn't you grab them just now?"

Lizi—one hand holding the items, the other supporting Su Ruan—wore the face of someone who'd been psyched up for a fight and gotten nothing.

"I was ready to go in! That pearl set was so pretty! And the Madam is so biased—she gives all the good stuff to Cousin. Why is that fair?"

"Grab what?" Su Ruan rubbed her aching temples. "From now on, when you see Yu Qinghe, avoid her. Don't go near her. And never, ever provoke her first. Got it?"

Lizi's eyes went wide, her confusion deepening. "But why, Miss? We used to—"

"That was before!" Su Ruan cut her off, her voice uncharacteristically serious. "Just do what I say."

Lizi was cowed by her expression. Still baffled, she nodded slowly.

"...Understood."

Su Ruan relaxed slightly and resumed walking, but her heart was heavy.

Of everyone in The General's Pampered Darling, the person she understood best was the heroine, Yu Qinghe.

On the surface: gentle as water, above the fray. In reality: a mind like a chess master. She knew how to read the tides, how to bend rules and hearts to her will.

It was the only way she could have navigated the viper's nest of inner-court politics and the capital's social battlefield—ultimately becoming Shen Zhaoye's trusted partner, standing at his side as an equal.

Make an enemy of her? Death. The original Su Ruan's fate was proof enough.

But cozy up to her, become her best friend?

Su Ruan laughed coldly to herself.

The golden road to Yu Qinghe and Shen Zhaoye's happy ending was paved with the bones of countless cannon fodder.

Schemes, frame-ups, court purges—which chapter didn't need a stepping stone? Which crisis didn't demand a sacrificial pawn?

The closer you are, the faster you die.

So from the start, her goal had been clear: don't make an enemy of the heroine, but never get close enough to be "sisterly" either. Just be a wallflower. Stay invisible.

Lay low until that useless customer service bot fixed the system. Lay low until the day she could escape this nightmare world.

As for the villain she'd cracked over the head...

Su Ruan shuddered and shoved the image of those blood-red eyes out of her mind.

Don't think about it!

Cross that bridge when we come to it... right?

She looked up at the towering walls of the Su estate and the square of sky beyond them, and sighed in resignation.