TIMO - Chapter 3
Chapter 3
Fu Zhao awoke to the sound of rapid, heavy breathing.
The nightmare was so suffocating she could barely breathe.
It was the residual consciousness of the original host. There were no images, only sounds, like a monologue from the original host. The immersive emotions carried by the voice made her feel as if she were experiencing it all herself, and she could feel the sorrow and regret welling up from the deepest part of her heart.
She could perceive with extreme clarity the obsession “Fu Zhao” had developed for Shi Nan since elementary school. This was something she couldn't fully grasp from the book written from Shi Nan's perspective-about Shi Nan from “Fu Zhao's” point of view, about how “Fu Zhao” saw the world.
“Fu Zhao” had lived off-island with her Beta mother since she was a child. She and Shi Nan were junior high classmates. Unlike the optimistic and cheerful Shi Nan of that time, the young “Fu Zhao” was sensitive and fragile, not daring to approach anyone in her class. She could only watch secretly, like a bystander, as the story unfolded.
“Fu Zhao” envied Shi Nan, who was adored by all their classmates, yet she always found her gaze lingering on her. Later, it became uncontrollable, and she found her first and last love in this world.
Even after her Beta mother passed away and “Fu Zhao” was brought back to Nanke Island by Island Master Fu Wanqing, separated from Shi Nan on another planet by a hundred and eight thousand light-years, her thoughts of Shi Nan never ceased.
“Fu Zhao” was like a sunflower that turned only toward Shi Nan, much like a cannon fodder admirer from an idol drama Fu Zhao had watched in her original world-the kind who never dared to confess their love.
In fact, the “Fu Zhao” in the original book was indeed just cannon fodder.
Fu Zhao was Shi Nan's fiancée. Even though Shi Nan was dissatisfied with the arranged marriage and wanted to break it off, Fu Zhao still used Nanke Island's status to protect her. Even though Shi Nan didn't like her, she took advantage of their existing engagement to revolve her life around Shi Nan, even giving her the option to break off the engagement at any time.
When Shi Nan was in danger, she would silently watch over her from behind.
In the end, “Fu Zhao” took a knife for Shi Nan and died in her arms.
This scene was exceptionally clear, having played out in her mind thousands of times, and it appeared once again in this nightmare. It was also the only scene from the original host's memories where she could see Shi Nan through “Fu Zhao's” eyes since she had transmigrated.
“Fu Zhao” clutched her chest, a knife protruding from it. A large amount of blood gushed from the wound, a glaring red. Her hands felt sticky and wet.
Her eyelids were too heavy to lift, and her breathing grew heavier. With every breath, the pain in her chest intensified.
All the noise around her faded, leaving only her own heavy breathing.
Everything in her vision blurred, leaving only the single focal point of her gaze.
Shi Nan's face was indistinct in the dream, but she knew clearly that it was her. In those hazy eyes that looked over, there was a faint hint of astonishment, and nothing more.
Holding on by a thread, “Fu Zhao” died the day before her engagement to Shi Nan was to be broken. She never had the chance to say anything, not even to see “guilt” in Shi Nan's eyes-of course, it was also possible her dream was incomplete. As an outsider who had transmigrated, Fu Zhao guessed that Shi Nan must have felt some guilt.
As the female lead of the original book, Shi Nan was the embodiment of truth, goodness, and beauty. Born into a wealthy family, an S-class Omega with numerous pursuers, she was a figure at the top of the pyramid, possessing all the qualities a novel's heroine should have-kind, sincere, beautiful, unyielding to fate, and stubborn. Naturally, she had many followers.
Therefore, for someone who had lost their life for her and left all their assets to her, Shi Nan would naturally feel guilty.
But guilt was just guilt.
Fu Zhao knew very well that Shi Nan would never fall in love with “Fu Zhao,” and she also understood why “Fu Zhao” had only ever accompanied Shi Nan as a friend until her death, never even daring to admit to being a “pursuer.”
“Fu Zhao” was gentle and kind, which was why even as cannon fodder in the book, many fans remembered her with lingering regret for a long time.
“Fu Zhao's” greatest concern in this ABO world was that she was a Beta, while Shi Nan was a one-in-ten-thousand S-class Omega.
So, after Shi Nan differentiated at eighteen, the passionate Fu Zhao had a bucket of cold water thrown on her by the gap between them. She hid away her secret feelings, never again revealing her heart to anyone.
“Fu Zhao” hated being a Beta most of all.
But Fu Zhao was very glad. Glad that after being killed by a rampaging wild boar in the mountains, she had only become a Beta upon transmigrating into this ABO world.
When she first arrived in the ABO world, she saw a promotion on TV showing a situation where all Alphas present lost control on the spot when an Omega differentiated.
It was chaotic and very different from the reality she was used to, as if they had become beasts dominated by Pheromones. All their actions and behaviors seemed incredible to her.
It was as if in this world, going into heat, losing control, and lust were all perfectly normal phenomena.
Even though, in her eyes, all of it was abnormal.
Abnormal, very abnormal… These were her own emotions.
Regret, sorrow, pain… These were “Fu Zhao's” emotions.
Complex emotions surged forth, filling her heart and exploding in her mind, shattering those images into fragments.
Fu Zhao's eyes flew open. Her breathing was ragged, her chest heaving violently. Her gaze fell upon the chandelier swaying on the ceiling, its movement making her feel dazed.
Her mouth was dry, and her throat burned as if she had swallowed a furnace, even her stomach felt scorched.
Her body was covered in sticky sweat, but her clothes were drier than when she had emerged from the sea. They were just damp with sweat, clinging to her back.
Right, the sea.
The woman who jumped into the sea.
Fu Zhao remembered this and shot up in bed. Her eyes immediately caught sight of a figure standing by the window. It was the same back, but much closer now.
Her previous wet clothes had been changed. She was now wearing a loose white T-shirt, black trousers, and sneakers.
The loose-fitting T-shirt didn't look baggy on the woman; one could still make out her superb waistline and the straight lines of her shoulders and neck.
Her skin was very fair. The forearms visible below her short sleeves were slender and pale, clear and delicate.
Perhaps hearing her movement, the woman suddenly turned around. The ends of her hair, which fell to her shoulders, followed the turn, tracing a sharp arc in the air.
The first thing that met her gaze was a pair of tea-brown irises, reflecting a ring of light. Her eyes were long and narrow, the corners tilting up slightly. They were an exceptionally beautiful pair of eyes.
“Awake?”
The woman's voice was lovely-pleasant and gentle, with a melodious tone. It was a little low, probably from having choked on water earlier.
Fu Zhao froze for a moment, not understanding why someone who had just tried to commit suicide by jumping into the sea now seemed so nonchalant.
The woman raised an eyebrow, her crossed arms relaxing naturally. She walked slowly to the bedside, picked up the glass on the table, and poured a glass of water, her movements unhurried and methodical.
The glass, filled about seven- or eight-tenths full, was handed to Fu Zhao.
The hand holding the glass was fair and slender, pale and delicate, with a faint pinkish hue at the fingertips.
“Thank you.”
Fu Zhao said thank you softly and took it. She accidentally brushed against the woman's cool fingers, and the memory of the rescue came flooding back. She flinched, nearly spilling the water all over the bed.
Her movement was so fast the woman barely had time to react.
Fu Zhao managed to steady the glass, preventing the water from spilling onto the bed. Under the woman's watchful gaze, she brought the glass to her lips and took a large gulp, easing the dryness deep in her throat and moistening her chapped lips.
“Be careful, don't choke.”
The gentle admonition reached her ears. It was devoid of emotion, yet it somehow carried a sense of concern.
Fu Zhao paused, slowed her drinking, and after finishing the water, placed the glass neatly on the bedside table.
“Thank you,” she repeated, her tone inexplicably flustered.
“No need to thank me. It's what I should do.”
The woman replied with that single sentence and then fell silent, saying no more. She picked up a bag from a nearby stool and handed it to Fu Zhao. “Your old clothes were all wet. I just bought these. Make do with them for now.”
“Oh, okay, thank you.”
Fu Zhao responded and took the bag of clothes. She glanced down and only then realized she was wearing a hospital gown.
Familiar blue stripes. So she was in a hospital.
Her hands paused as she couldn't help but survey her surroundings. It was a pure white, deluxe private room, likely in the island's hospital.
Her gaze unexpectedly met the woman's. Ripples stirred in those tea-brown eyes, as if she were also sizing her up.
Fu Zhao figured the hospital staff must have recognized her and given her a deluxe private room, and that the woman who brought her here was probably worried about the cost of the room and medical fees. She pursed her lips and clutched the bag in her hands. “Don't worry about the medical bills. Just have them register my name later, and my family will pay for everything.”
“And the clothes… I'll transfer you the money later.”
“No need.”
The woman's reply was concise. The light in her eyes flickered before returning to calm. She lowered her lashes for a moment, then curved her lips into a smile. “You saved my life. A set of clothes is nothing.”
“That's a separate matter. Saving you… was just doing the right thing.” Fu Zhao paused, her feelings a bit complicated. After all, she was facing someone who might try to take their own life at any moment. She didn't dare be careless and unconsciously softened her voice. “Don't take it to heart.”
“Fu Zhao…”
The woman said her name. Her eyelashes fluttered, and her gaze swept lightly over Fu Zhao's bandaged palm before meeting her eyes. “The one who should be saying thank you is me.”
“A set of clothes is nothing. Don't take it to heart.”
Fu Zhao wasn't surprised that the woman knew her name. After all, every resident of Nanke Island knew her, so this woman was probably a local resident as well.
Realizing this made her even more uneasy. Upholding the original host's principle of “serving the islanders,” she thought it over and, with rather mixed feelings, spoke up. “Alright. May I be so bold as to ask your name?”
The formality of her address was a bit much. The woman paused, a look of belated surprise in her eyes. After a moment, she almost couldn't hold back a laugh. The corners of her beautiful eyes curved, and her lips couldn't help but lift, shattering her previous elegant and cool demeanor and adding a radiant and captivating charm.
Fu Zhao cleared her throat, her expression unchanging. She raised her left palm to her lips and coughed to hide her embarrassment at her formal tone, but she said nothing more, quietly waiting for the woman's reply.
The air grew quiet, and the atmosphere felt a little strange.
After a moment, the woman seemed to have regained control of her expression. She walked over and leaned down to look at her, her beautiful eyes fixed on her. The light in them shimmered, and a smile played on her lips. “You… don't know who I am?”
“Then why did you save me?”
They were too close. Fu Zhao could even see her own reflection in the woman's eyes, could see her distinct, slightly curled eyelashes, and her porcelain-like, flawless skin.
Fu Zhao felt a little uncomfortable. She shifted, leaning back toward the edge of the bed as a strange sense of panic rose in her heart. She hesitated for a few seconds before answering,
“It's probably because… I am the Little Island Master of Nanke Island.”
“And you are my islander.”
Author's Notes
Fu Zhao: This reason seems quite convincing.
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