Chapter 361: Wen Ziying’s Clue

Half a month had passed. Ning Qiuer had already returned to her home, but Xia Yu still hadn’t obtained any useful information.

One morning, Xia Yu woke up to the sound of his alarm and couldn’t help but think about Ning Qiuer again.

This surprising coincidence truly intrigued him.

However, it was only a passing curiosity. His desire to investigate further wasn’t particularly strong.

If Ning Qiuer had sung a song from Earth, he would have been very cautious and highly interested in digging deeper. But those two melodies weren’t from his past life; Ning Qiuer wasn’t from Earth like him.

He also considered the possibility that Ning Qiuer might be someone from the future, and that those melodies were songs created in the future by his future self, which Ning Qiuer had copied. However, after Xia Yu had Yuning Meng investigate Ning Qiuer, he found out that Ning Qiuer didn’t have any investments under her name.

All her money had been earned through her singing career.

If she were indeed someone from the future, she would have made some investments. Even someone with a terrible memory returning to the past would remember the names of some well-known projects and companies, such as online shopping, internet celebrity industries, and shared bicycles.

Catching these trends might be difficult, but following them closely could allow even a pig to get a taste.

After eliminating these two possibilities, it no longer seemed important to figure out who exactly Ning Qiuer was, as she had nothing to do with Xia Yu’s life anyway.

Knowing that Ning Qiuer wasn’t from the future relieved Xia Yu, but at the same time, he felt a bit disappointed. A confirmed person from the future would definitely bring some unique excitement.

If she were from Earth like him, they could have shared stories about life on Earth.

Although there wasn’t much on Earth worth missing, and life there had even become somewhat tiresome, after so much time had passed, he had really started to miss it.

It was just like how he now missed his university days and childhood, which hadn’t seemed particularly wonderful at the time.

After washing up and finishing breakfast, Xia Yu went to the archery club as usual. In the afternoon, he clicked on Wen Ziying’s profile to check in on her recent condition.

After a moment of darkness, he saw scattered pieces of paper.

They were fragments of manuscript paper. Xia Yu looked to the side and found crumpled balls of paper.

Looking down again, he saw Wen Ziying holding a pen in her hand. The tip was deeply embedded in a stack of manuscript paper, creating a deep scratch mark on it.

Xia Yu didn’t even need to look to know that the expression on this body must be unpleasant.

An ordinary person witnessing this scene would be extremely frightened, but Xia Yu, who had been a web novelist in his past life, found this to be a very common occurrence.

When the plot of a novel isn’t satisfying and one starts doubting their own abilities, such situations often arise.

Wen Ziying hadn’t smashed up the house, which was already quite restrained. Scratching up some manuscript paper wasn’t a big deal.

“I’m sorry, my mood is a bit bad,” Wen Ziying’s voice echoed in Xia Yu’s mind.

“It’s okay, I understand,” Xia Yu offered reassurance.

He pulled the pen out, threw the waste paper into the trash can, and simply tidied up the table.

He opened the drawer intending to put the pen inside, but his hand didn’t feel the familiar drawer handle.

Looking down, Xia Yu realized he was sitting at a table whose middle drawer had no handle.

He looked around, and the room wasn’t Wen Ziying’s apartment near Zilang No.1 High School, but a much larger room with a more traditional Chinese interior.

Had Wen Ziying moved house?

Xia Yu’s vision shared with Wen Ziying’s, and guessing his confusion, Wen Ziying explained, “We’re at the house in the countryside now.”

“What happened?” Xia Yu asked as he opened the drawer and put the pen inside.

Back in November, Wen Ziying had still refused to come back, even asking Xia Yu to use her body in her place. But now, she had not only come here but was also living here.

“I just wanted to get away for a while,” Wen Ziying answered.

Xia Yu knew this wasn’t the real reason.

To prevent the silence from making their interaction awkward, Xia Yu changed the subject: “Didn’t you just finish a manuscript? Aren’t you going to take a few days off?”

Wen Ziying’s new book had just been released, and Xia Yu, busy with archery practice, hadn’t had time to buy and read it yet.

Originally, Xia Yu had intended to use this sentence to help Wen Ziying temporarily forget about her novel, but it had the opposite effect. He felt Wen Ziying’s mood become even more depressed, even fearful.

Wen Ziying was silent for five seconds before she spoke: “Let’s go out for a walk. I want to go up the mountain, but the path is a bit difficult.”

Knowing that something was likely wrong with the new book, Xia Yu didn’t ask further. He walked out of the house, followed the cement path out of the village, and reached the foot of the mountain behind the village.

It was a small mountain, about a hundred meters high, with a narrow path. With his agility, endurance, and strength skills, Xia Yu quickly reached the summit.

He had originally thought that maybe something would happen at the summit to trigger some plot development, but movies and TV shows were deceiving. Real people were more stubborn and unwilling to change. Wen Ziying didn’t open her heart to Xia Yu just because the scenery was a bit different.

Eight hours later, Xia Yu returned to his own body. He went online and searched for Wen Ziying’s new book, eventually finding the reason on a book forum.

Wen Ziying’s new book wasn’t quite up to par. The reviews weren’t unanimously positive anymore, with some people expressing disappointment online.

This wasn’t really a big deal—no one could maintain peak performance all the time, and having one or two subpar works was perfectly normal. However, the publisher had heavily promoted it beforehand, claiming it was a masterpiece, and this letdown had angered the readers.

Adding to the problem was the previous incident involving Bao Huijia. Some smart alecks online had thought Bao Huijia was the one who had been wronged, and their efforts had pushed this issue beyond the novel community, even generating a small wave of attention in the entertainment industry.

Rubbing his forehead, Xia Yu felt a headache coming on. If Wen Ziying had been wronged, he could ask Yu Ningmeng to control the online comments, but the core issue here was that Wen Ziying’s novel really was subpar, as analysis posts indicated. If he asked Yu Ningmeng for help, it would become a case of capital controlling reviews, which would be detrimental to Wen Ziying’s future development. After all, published authors are still considered public figures and don’t have the brainwashing power of internet celebrities.

At the same time, Xia Yu felt some confusion. Most of the online discussions were just objective criticism, with many readers hoping her next work would return to form. Yet Wen Ziying couldn’t even handle this relatively mild backlash and had retreated to the countryside, a place she had previously resisted?

Xia Yu realized this might be related to the clue portion of the star fragment mission.

Putting off his archery practice, he shifted his main focus recently to observing Wen Ziying.

After a night passed, Xia Yu once again entered Wen Ziying’s body.

At that moment, Wen Ziying was looking out the window at the scenery.

After withdrawing her gaze from the grass outside the window, Xia Yu noticed that Wen Ziying’s left hand was holding a paper cutter, while her right hand held a piece of stationery.

From the moisture level of the stationery paper in her grip, it was clear Wen Ziying had been holding it for a long time.

Clearly floating in the air above the paper were the words “clue.”