Joanna followed Simon, and just as expected, they attracted a small crowd the mont they entered the cafeteria.
She hadn’t eaten much that morning, and the rich aroma of the cafeteria’s stir-fries wafted toward her. Joanna swallowed and whispered in Simon’s ear, "I want to get those noodles."
Simon went to buy the food and told her to find a seat. Joanna looked around and sat down not far from the window where Simon was ordering.
A crowd of students was lined up for food. Simon stood in the middle of the line, steadily moving forward.
’Simon really is the protagonist of this book.’ Even wearing the standard school uniform, you could recognize him from behind at a single glance.
’Is he 6’1" now?’
Joanna suddenly recalled the first ti she saw Simon. He was a tall boy who had shot up so fast that his nutrition couldn’t keep up, leaving him too thin. It made his already cold features seem even sharper, with a keep-your-distance edge.
The Simon of today was even taller, but just as thin. Compared to the walking embodint of "don’t-touch-" from two years ago, he now had a layer of polite, feigned detachnt.
The politely detached Simon spotted her in the crowd at a glance, effortlessly carrying two als as he sat down across from her.
"Eat it all." Simon opened the containers of noodles and steaming hot braised chicken with potatoes, pushed them in front of her, and handed her a pair of disposable chopsticks.
Feeling not the least bit burdened by being "served," Joanna nodded like a chick pecking at grain. "Mhm, mhm, mhm..."
She had just picked up a mouthful of noodles when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw the large portion of white rice and a few greasy-looking green vegetables in front of Simon.
"...Why did you only get yourself vegetables?"
Hearing this, a strange expression flickered across Simon’s face. It was only for a second, but for so reason, Joanna understood.
’Even if these vegetables are heavy on oil and salt, they’ve got to taste better than plain boiled ones, right? How can a kitchen novice who can only manage boiled vegetables dare to look disgusted at these greens?’
Joanna figured that was probably what was going through Simon’s mind, but he just said coolly, "I don’t have an appetite."
"Oh..."
Joanna lowered her head and ate her noodles. For so reason, the braised chicken and potatoes didn’t taste as delicious as the first bite anymore.
Simon ate quickly and silently, alternating between a bite of vegetables and a bite of rice. You couldn’t tell from his expression whether he enjoyed it or not.
Suddenly, a piece of sauce-coated chicken appeared on his rice. Simon’s movents paused, and he looked up.
Joanna quickly averted her gaze, looking down and slurping her noodles rapidly as if to hide sothing.
The air grew thick, and a silent understanding spread between them.
Seeing Simon pick up the piece of chicken from the corner of her eye, Joanna’s lips curled into a smile. Even the noodles seed to taste a little better.
After that, a piece of chicken or a chunk of potato would appear on Simon’s rice from ti to ti. There was even a piece of ginger disguised as a potato.
"..."
Simon silently spat out the ginger.
Joanna burst out laughing, her pretty eyes curving into crescents, her face full of the joy of a successful prank.
"Be good. Eat."
Simon said this with a straight face, but where no one could see, a hint of a smile flashed in his downcast eyes.
After lunch, Simon followed Joanna to Class C and started putting the books she had just taken out that morning back into her schoolbag.
Joanna was still in shock. She stared blankly at his actions, murmuring, "How co the teacher is letting go back to Class A?"
"Probably because they think you have potential," Simon said calmly.
’That’s no different from an insult.’
Joanna said, "...Simon, I’m just bad at studying, I’m not an idiot."
"Mm, I can tell," Simon replied, his hands still busy.
Joanna was speechless.
"No, seriously, what’s going on? What did you say to the teacher?" Joanna grabbed his arm.
Simon stopped, letting her pull him, and looked down at her slightly.
For a mont, the air seed to stand still.
After a long mont, Simon spoke. "I said I could help you bring your grades up."
Joanna froze. She had a gut feeling that Simon wasn’t telling her the whole story, but no matter how she asked, he wouldn’t say anything more.
[166, what exactly did Simon do?] Joanna’s tone was uncharacteristically urgent.
166’s tone was sour. [You’re so impressive...]
[?]
166: [The male lead said if you didn’t co back, he would go over.]
...
If the top candidate for the provincial scholar award were to move to Class C and his grades slipped, what a huge loss that would be for the school.
Only Simon could have said sothing like that, because it wasn’t a threat. He was simply stating his intentions.
If the dean didn’t let her back into Class A, Simon really would go to Class C.
Joanna slowly let out a breath, an unnaable feeling washing over her.
Because it was the second sester of their senior year, there were no empty beds in the dorms, so Joanna couldn’t stay there. So, Simon gave up his dorm room as well.
A folding bed appeared in the small apartnt.
Simon wasn’t just all talk; he was serious about quickly improving Joanna’s grades. Joanna could clearly feel that Simon had beco much stricter with her.
At 11:30 PM, Joanna finally solved a major problem. After she practiced a few more of the sa type and got them all right, Simon finally let her go to bed.
Joanna was incredibly sleepy, but when she lay back on the warm, soft bed, she suddenly didn’t feel tired anymore.
Staring at the round moon outside, she suddenly posed a question: [166, what would happen if I don’t complete the plot points?]
was instantly alard. [You don’t want to go ho anymore?]
[Sigh. You know I don’t really have any family or friends in that world.]
’It doesn’t seem to make much difference to whether I go back or not.’
’If I stay here, at least I have Anna Yates, and...’
Joanna closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she had a nonchalant smile on her face. [You still haven’t answered my question.]
[Is it because of Simon?] This was one of the few tis 166 didn’t use the two words "male lead." It was as if it had only just now realized the protagonist it was always talking about wasn’t just so flat, 2D character from a story. [I don’t think you need to ask this question.]
[You have your own life. Why imrse yourself in soone else’s?] 166 asked in its chanical, electronic voice.
[What do you an, soone else’s life? Aren’t I Joanna Kennedy...?] Joanna said in disagreent.
166’s attitude didn’t soften. [Joanna, don’t play dumb,] it said. [I’ve guided many hosts, and there have been others like you who fell in love with the book’s male lead. But their endings were never good. Without exception.]
[How so?]
[I rember telling you from the very beginning: the ending is already written. It cannot be changed. Even if the plot deviates along the way, it won’t affect the final outco.]
[The male and female leads are inherently drawn to each other. Besides them, everyone else is just a cannon fodder side character.]
[Without exception?]
[Without exception.]
Then 166 delivered another heavy blow: [Your indecisiveness will only drag Simon down. Do you want him to be stuck in this little alley forever?]
Joanna’s gaze silently shifted to the door. Through the thin wood, she could almost see Simon, sleeping with his legs bent on the folding bed.
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