Chapter 17 - Deeply In Love With You [Quick Transmigration]

Translator's Note:

Hello, I hope you've all been doing well. I have decided to pick up a second Quick Transmigration novel. This time, the gong is the MC and I hope you appreciate this novel as much as I do.

Here you go, and I wish you a good read.

And, as I said before, if you wish to read ahead, you can head over to my Patreon to get early access to all the translated chapters, or puchase advanced chapters on Gumroad. (40% discount code: DILWY)

Nowhere to Run

 

 

Liao Yan returned to school. Though he still occasionally took time off, at least Lin Heng no longer had to rush to the hospital every Friday.

 

Yet even with the freed-up time, there was still the weight of assignments pressing down on them.

 

Besides the homework assigned by teachers, they had taken it upon themselves to tackle past college entrance exam papers. Though they did them half a day behind the official exam schedule, they followed the same strict timing as if it were the real thing.

 

With no one to grade their work, they marked it themselves—corrected mistakes, analyzed question types, and drilled formula applications.

 

Their days began at eight. Excluding meals and a brief nap, they studied until ten at night.

 

Doing this alone would be exhausting.

 

But together—discussing, competing, supporting one another—time passed almost effortlessly.

 

One evening, as Lin Heng organized their notes and test papers, he heard the sound of running water from the bathroom. He knocked on the door and called out, "I left the hairdryer on the desk. I'm heading to bed first."

 

The water stopped for a moment. Then a cool, steady voice echoed out from inside: "Okay. Rest early."

 

Warmth stirred quietly in Lin Heng's chest. He exhaled softly, shut his bedroom door, and lay down on the bed. Strangely enough, he wasn't tired at all from a whole day of problem-solving. In fact, the satisfaction of getting things right gave him a deep sense of accomplishment and calm.

 

And yet…

 

Lin Heng rolled onto his side, gazing at the soft amber glow of the desk lamp, and smiled faintly.

 

He'd actually managed to bring him home.

 

The desk lamp went out. In the barely-there sounds from the living room, his thoughts slowly drifted far and deep.

 

…

 

After the College Entrance Exams ended, the first-year students' final exams—and the long-awaited summer break—were just around the corner. Compared to the earlier routine of endless studying, the atmosphere at school had inevitably become a little restless.

 

"Settle your minds first," the homeroom teacher reminded during class. "The final exam results will be released before the holidays begin. There's still a parent-teacher meeting. Whether or not you enjoy this summer depends on you."

 

The once-noisy classroom fell silent at those words.

 

Time moved fast. What already seemed short now slipped past like sand through one's fingers.

 

One more time packing up their books. One more time clearing their desks. One more time walking into the exam hall.

 

Seating was arranged by academic ranking. Lin Heng was placed in the first examination room, Zong Que in the fifth.

 

That morning, they had breakfast together. Just before parting ways at the door, Lin Heng hesitated, the word "good luck" hovering on his lips—then swallowed it down. Instead, he said simply, "Wait for me at lunch, okay?"

 

"Mm." Zong Que nodded.

 

The reason the school released exam scores before summer was simple—these results would determine placement into competition classes and eligibility for early admission.

 

By the end of first year, they had already completed the full high school curriculum. This exam would be the clearest, most comprehensive assessment of everything they had learned.

 

For three days, the loud cicadas cried relentlessly. The final test paper was handed in—and just like that, it was over.

 

Even though they'd be back the next day to get their results, the instant that bell rang, the weight of pressure vanished like morning mist. Cheers erupted all around.

 

"Wooo! Finally, vacation time!"

 

"I'm gonna sleep until noon every day!"

 

"What did you get for the last question?"

 

"What made you think I could even do the last question?!"

 

When Zong Que arrived at the first exam room, he wasn't surprised to find a crowd gathered around Lin Heng.

 

"Lin Heng, what was your answer to the final question?"

 

"Was the answer to the third part 0.65j?"

 

"You all solved the last problem?!"

 

In the center of the group, the boy smiled wryly and said something. When he gave his answer, some faces lit up with joy—others with despair.

 

Zong Que called out from the doorway, "Lin Heng."

 

The boy's head snapped up at once. He smiled, excused himself from the crowd, and walked over quickly. Only when he reached Zong Que did he let out a small sigh of relief and chuckled, "Thank god you came."

 

"They were asking about your answers?" Zong Que asked as they walked side by side.

 

"Just comparing, to get a sense of how we did," Lin Heng said with a smile.

 

"It was too much?"

 

"Mm. If you hadn't come, they'd have made me go over the whole thing from start to finish," Lin Heng said.

 

It was always like this after the last subject. He didn't really mind it himself, but when others couldn't match his answers, the disappointment could hit pretty hard.

 

"Your answers are nearly identical to the official key," Zong Que said, matter-of-factly.

 

Lin Heng adjusted his backpack and looked at him with a grin. "Want to go over them with me, then?"

 

"I can," Zong Que replied without hesitation.

 

Lin Heng was momentarily taken aback. Then he smiled and said, "Never mind. The results come out tomorrow—I'd rather keep the surprise."

 

"Mm. How are you getting home this afternoon?" Zong Que asked.

 

"My driver's coming," Lin Heng said, glancing at his phone. "You?"

 

"Subway," Zong Que said, stopping near the school gates. He spotted the car pulling up. "See you tomorrow."

 

"See you tomorrow." Lin Heng waved, then turned and left.

 

Zong Que watched as the car pulled away. He didn't head for the subway. Instead, he stood quietly at the edge of the campus path. When he spotted a familiar figure walking out of the school, he followed.

 

In July, the sun lingered late. The light of dusk still carried the sting of heat, and mingled with the stickiness of sweat, it filled the air with the oppressive scent of rust and suffocation.

 

The school was located on the outskirts of the city, so the boy ahead hadn't taken a long ride, making it easy for Zong Que to keep up. But the other seemed highly alert, constantly glancing around, making Zong Que think he'd been discovered—only for the boy to continue walking normally toward home.

 

His slender frame looked especially fragile under the evening sun, like a gust of wind could knock him over.

 

[Host, this is stalking. If you get caught, they'll throw you in a cell.] 1314 warned softly.

 

[Can anyone hear you when you talk?] Zong Que asked, watching from a corner as Liao Yan stood at the mouth of an alleyway.

 

That alley led to his house. But Liao Yan stood frozen, as if he'd just seen something terrifying. His entire body trembled faintly in the breeze—it was impossible to tell if it was fear or fury.

 

Footsteps echoed from inside the alley, followed by the voices of grown men.

 

"Did you get the money?" one man asked in a heavy voice as several men surrounded Liao Yan.

 

[Hm? No, they can't.] 1314 replied, then paused. [Host, it's the same people from your earlier investigation.]

 

Zong Que had already recognized the man leading the group—Qian Hai—and the others were familiar from the report as well.

 

"I didn't get it. He said my mom's already been discharged. There's no way he'll give us more money," Liao Yan said, his whole body pulled taut, like a bowstring about to snap.

 

One of the men shoved him, making him stumble. "You trying to screw with us, kid? No compensation money, and now you can't even get what we asked for? Tell me, how the hell are you planning to pay the interest for the past few months?"

 

"I really couldn't get it," Liao Yan said, straightening again.

 

"You've got guts, I'll give you that…" One man raised his hand, but another quickly stopped him.

 

"Hey, hey, we're here for money, not to beat someone up. We don't want to make things hard for a kid and his mom. But if the money doesn't come through, we'll just have to take back the medical fees."

 

Liao Yan flinched, eyes bloodshot. "No! You can't!"

 

"A filial kid, huh?" The man smirked, patting his cheek. "That's admirable. But guts alone won't cut it. That Lin Heng in your class—his monthly allowance's around three thousand. Every time he gets picked up, it's in a different luxury car. Each of those costs at least six figures, and his family home is worth eight. If a little bit of their spare change landed your way, you'd be debt-free overnight. Why the difference, huh? You're both human."

 

Liao Yan's lips trembled, but the man kept going.

 

"He's kind, isn't he? And rich. Tell him what's going on. He'll feel sorry for you—probably won't even ask you to pay him back. Everybody wins. Think about it."

 

The group turned and got into their car. Zong Que stepped further into the shadows, watching silently as the vehicle drove off.

 

The evening sun was warm, but the boy at the alley's mouth stood shaking, as if chilled to the bone. Even his once-straight posture now seemed to collapse in on itself.

 

[Host, did you already suspect something was wrong?] 1314's mechanical voice was laced with sympathy.

 

[Mm.] Zong Que responded.

 

Ever since Liao Yan returned to school, he'd been quieter than before—withdrawn, tense, like a bowstring drawn too tight.

 

Liao Yan's troubles had started with his father. Lin Heng's troubles had started because of Liao Yan.

 

[He's really pitiful...] 1314 said softly. [So what now, Host?]

 

It might have been a mechanical voice, but it sounded more tender and melancholic than most humans.

 

Zong Que didn't answer. He simply stood there, watching the boy remain frozen for a long while before finally beginning to move. Only when Liao Yan's figure faded from the alleyway did he step away from the corner.

 

It wasn't the end of the road. There was still a way forward.

 

Zong Que: Still no trace of Liao Feng?

 

Ji Zhou: I've found some signs. He most likely used a forged ID. I'll get you results in a couple of days.

 

...

 

The next day's parent-teacher meeting was bustling with activity. Private cars arrived one after another, parents milling about asking for classrooms, many in conversation with teachers.

 

The ones whose children had performed well were all smiles; those with less impressive results were busy asking how to improve.

 

"Dad, we agreed, right? If I make top 100, I get that game console I want."

 

"Yeah, and we also agreed—if you don't, half the summer chores are yours."

 

"Tch…"

 

"Which one is Lin Heng?"

 

"That one—third row." A student discreetly pointed.

 

"The one who always ranks first? He's amazing."

 

"We're all the same age. How's his brain just that much better?"

 

By the window, Lin Heng's mother, lightly made-up, sat gracefully beside her clean-cut son. She smiled, elegant and composed. "A lot of people are looking at you—the perfect kid."

 

"Soon they'll be coming to you for tips—the perfect mom," Lin Heng replied, glancing around the classroom before turning his gaze out the window.

 

The conference was set for ten a.m., and it was nearly time—but Zong Que still hadn't arrived.

 

"Well, that's thanks to your father's influence," his mother followed his gaze. "He led by example and taught you to be disciplined from the start. What are you looking at, son?"

 

"My deskmate isn't here yet." Lin Heng's eyes were on the road outside, and when he spotted a familiar figure, he smiled faintly.

 

"Deskmate?" She followed his gaze curiously and saw a tall, striking young man.

 

The boy was speaking quietly to the elderly woman beside him. He didn't smile much, but he slowed his steps to match hers, clearly thoughtful and attentive.

 

"Your deskmate's quite filial. But it's a bit unusual, isn't it? Not having a parent come to the conference." Lin Heng's mother observed.

 

"Maybe they're busy." Lin Heng's fingers curled slightly.

 

But it was the weekend.

 

Come to think of it… Zong Que had never once mentioned his parents.

 

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