Chapter Eleven: So It Turns Out He's an Innocent Puppy

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Pei Wenxuan immediately released his grip, and Shen Li, drained of strength, collapsed to the ground. Only then did she clearly see who had arrived.

Jiang Nian.

She understood with a faint smile—so this was just a staged act of heroism.

Raising her weary eyelids, she watched the two of them, who were clearly in cahoots, putting on a show right before her eyes.

“I told you to delete the video!” Pei Wenxuan pointed accusingly at Jiang Nian.

Since the virtual screen recording was beyond his reach, the footage would be directly uploaded to the uploader’s account via the cloud. Unless he knew the account password, he couldn’t log in to delete it.

Of course, there was another way—hacking. But the uploader might report it to the authorities, which would damage his reputation.

Pei Wenxuan tried to reason with Jiang Nian: “What you saw isn’t the whole story. This woman provoked me first. Even if it gets out, you won’t gain anything.”

Yet Jiang Nian folded up the virtual screen and stepped aside: “I didn’t record anything. You can leave.”

Pei Wenxuan narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “You didn’t record?”

“Yeah.” Jiang Nian skirted around Pei Wenxuan and headed straight to the nearby water pipe to wash his hands, showing no intention of helping Shen Li up. His tone was calm and flat: “I have no reason to offend you over someone irrelevant.”

Hearing this, Pei Wenxuan relaxed, straightened his collar and sleeves: “Fair enough. Our last conversation still counts. You can find me anytime. I’m leaving.”

He was so furious, so full of hatred for Shen Li, that he forgot where he was. He couldn’t kill her here—she still had to endure torment on the show!

With this thought, a cruel gleam flashed in Pei Wenxuan’s eyes as he left without worry.

Jiang Nian turned off the tap and glanced sideways at Shen Li.

Here it came again!

That warm light in his gaze from this afternoon was back!

Shen Li sneered inwardly. Did they think she was stupid? Knowing full well they were connected, did they really believe she would recklessly walk into their trap?

Jiang Nian dried his hands on his clothes, his calm movements hiding a hint of nervousness and haste. Then he reached out a hand. “Are you okay?”

Shen Li ignored him, propping herself up and standing to wash her hands under the running water.

The air instantly grew awkward.

Jiang Nian withdrew his hand, brushing his clothes to cover the embarrassment. Shen Li washed for quite a while, then turned around to find Jiang Nian still standing there watching her.

“Are you going to take a shower?”

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Jiang Nian: “I already did.”

Shen Li was now even more certain it was a staged hero rescue. She decided to probe: “Then why are you here in the bathroom? You can’t have come just to save me.” Her tone was light, as if joking and mocking herself.

But Jiang Nian suddenly looked uneasy. Shen Li stared at him, noticing a faint flush creeping up his ear and coloring his cheeks. She stepped closer, locking her gaze on him until his neck reddened as well.

“You—you’re too close.”

He even stammered his words?

Interesting.

Shen Li smiled, her naturally pink lips making her look alluring. The gentle touch of her upper and lower lips resembled tempting cherries, drawing Jiang Nian’s furtive glances, swallowing hard, restraining himself.

Yet Shen Li grew bolder. She hooked a finger under Jiang Nian’s chin. Startled, he retreated several steps like a frightened puppy, only to be pressed back against the wall.

She hadn’t expected such a reaction. It seemed Pei Wenxuan had painted Jiang Nian’s character as a pure and innocent puppy dog. She chuckled softly, her voice like clear, melodious bells ringing in the breeze—irresistibly charming.

Jiang Nian’s eardrums felt as if baptized.

He dared not lower his eyes to look at Shen Li, but she boldly met his gaze, even pinching his chin to look it over. She commented, “This face definitely has potential.”

If Jiang Nian weren’t so cold, he would truly be the pure puppy dog himself; for now, he could only be the aloof male idol.

A shame—she didn’t like that aloof type.

Shen Li tiptoed and suddenly leaned close. Jiang Nian held his breath, closing his eyes. The air fell silent for a moment. Then she released his chin; the warmth of her breath vanished from his face. When he opened his eyes, she had already walked away.

Only her waving back remained: “I’m not interested in your type. Find someone else. Bye-bye.”

Even after the slender, graceful figure disappeared from sight, Jiang Nian hadn’t quite processed what happened. He even forgot to breathe. Taking a deep breath, his dizzy mind finally cleared somewhat.

“What do you mean?” he wondered aloud, puzzled as he pondered Shen Li’s words while walking back to the dorm.

Back in the dorm, he didn’t communicate with anyone, sitting alone on the bed as if possessed. His handsome face flushed deeply as uncontrollable memories of what had just transpired surged through his mind.

…

The moon grew brighter. The island returned to silence. Both small cabins were dark, everyone deep in sleep. Shen Li, however, slept uneasily, plagued by dreams of a past life.

Those nightmares entwined her, becoming her torment.

She struggled to escape but was repeatedly dragged back by the demon’s claws and whipped.

After much effort, she climbed to the highest point, ready to leap... but hesitated at the last moment.

Suddenly, a cry for help rang out. She jerked awake, eyes wide. The cries grew clearer, and soon her teammates stirred as well.

Qiao Le snapped impatiently, “Who’s making noise at this hour? Stop disturbing everyone!” She looked outside, realizing dawn was breaking.

Shen Li quickly threw off the covers, packing clothes to change: “The island has been cleared by the production team. No outsiders. This can only be someone from the crew—probably the second round of the mission. Hurry up and get ready!”

Only then did the other three react, following Shen Li’s lead to gather their things and head out. Except for Ji Beishu, who went to the bathroom to change, the three girls changed in the dorm for speed.

When they stepped outside, the neighboring dorm’s light had just come on. Shen Li used the sound to orient herself and led the way from memory.

With the experience of yesterday’s game, the other three didn’t argue and followed her.

In their previous life, the Blackmail Team lost the second round badly, their points falling behind by a large margin.

The second round was called “Rescue.”

When they arrived at the beach, they would see a huge scale device rising from the sea, with a timer hanging above it. The scales held cages containing different numbers of people—not experimental subjects, but real captives.

The left cage held ten people; the right cage held thirty. The right side’s scale was supported by a pillar sunk into the seabed, a virtual construct. This support kept the scales balanced despite the weight difference.

The game’s rule: the number of people rescued divided by ten equals the points earned. Rescuing ten people equaled one point; thirty people, three points.

If a team won the task, the countdown paused. That team could rescue all forty people for double points—4 times 2, totaling 8 points.

The losing team’s scale support pillar would vanish immediately, causing the thirty-person side to sink, meaning those thirty died, leaving only ten survivors and one point.

In their past life, Shen Li’s team scored just one point. The top-stream team entered with 20,000 live vote recommendations and earned 8 points, instantly reaching 10 points total—making the Blackmail Team’s comeback impossible.

This time, the game hadn’t changed. When the top-stream team arrived, the director announced the live vote results, awarding them the recommendation bonus—exactly as before.

But this time, victory would be theirs!

Shen Li’s lips curled with a cold and confident gleam in her eyes.