Blame the Villain – Chapter 6
by Little PandaThe Villainous Film Empress (6)
A little rich girl bent on saving the world X A paranoid, dark, and vengeful Film Empress
After Song Xuyi returned to school, she immediately faced an exam.
The “Old Demon of Black Mountain,” Huang Shuo, had likely anticipated his students’ reactions following his business trip. The very moment they returned to campus, before the students had even recovered from their midterms, they were hit with another of his grueling test papers.
After struggling through the agonizingly difficult specialized knowledge sections at the beginning, the final question on Huang Shuo’s exam proved unexpectedly simple—a twenty-point essay prompt.
“What is your reason for studying medicine?”
Song Xuyi wasn’t the only one; everyone in the room blanked for a moment when they saw the question.
They lived in an era of relative material abundance.
For many, studying medicine was simply a means to secure a respectable job. After all, the majority of the students came from ordinary households. Being a doctor offered both a high salary and high social status, satisfying the heroic ideals many harbored in their hearts.
But this body Song Xuyi inhabited had already enjoyed a boundless excess of resources that others could only dream of.
Song Xuyi tightened her grip on her pen. A long while later, she finally wrote her answer:
“Because I want to save others and save myself.” She cited a passage from the medical student’s oath that every student learned upon enrollment: “I resolve to do my utmost to eliminate human suffering and assist in the perfection of health, to uphold the sanctity and honor of the medical arts, to heal the wounded and rescue the dying, to shrink from no hardship, and to persevere in my pursuit, striving for the rest of my life for the development of the nation’s medical and health endeavors and for the physical and mental well-being of humanity.1“
Song Xuyi knew such words sounded hollow, like grandiose, empty boasting.
Yet, as she wrote them, her entire body trembled.
It was as if the dust had been swept away from something deep inside her heart, leaving it incomparably bright and clear. It felt like drinking a cool draught of ice water in the dead of summer—a feeling of absolute, liberating joy…
Though she was a Task-doer, she was first and foremost herself. She refused to lose her own identity simply to complete a mission.
To live merely for the sake of surviving—what meaning was there in that?
But when the graded exams were handed back, the result defied everyone’s expectations. For the first time, Song Xuyi lost her top-ranking position in the course.
She had received zero points on the final question.
The students around her were utterly baffled. Generally speaking, subjective questions like this always earned at least partial credit no matter what a student wrote. Song Xuyi’s answer hadn’t been completely outlandish; no matter how one looked at it, it shouldn’t have warranted a zero.
Song Xuyi couldn’t figure it out herself either. In all other matters, she was exceedingly aloof and calm, but the moment it concerned her chosen profession, she simply couldn’t maintain her composure. Exam paper in hand, she entered Huang Shuo’s office after class, her mind full of confusion.
When Song Xuyi walked in, Huang Shuo was consulting with a patient.
Two people stood before him. A young woman in tattered clothes was holding a child, sitting in front of Huang Shuo and weeping softly.
The “Old Demon of Black Mountain,” who was normally so volatile and ruthlessly strict with his students, seemed like a completely different person when dealing with patients. His expression was gentle and calm as he spoke softly to the woman, passing her tissues.
“I know your family’s situation. Rest assured—if the child’s father refuses to care for her, the country and society will not abandon her.”
“Have the child admitted for treatment first. The tumor might not be malignant. Put the matter of money aside. If you can gather enough, that is for the best, but if you cannot, I will help you figure something out…”
Under Huang Shuo’s gentle consolations, the weeping woman slowly raised her head, her expression gradually firming. Ignoring Huang Shuo’s attempts to stop her, she forcefully kowtowed several times, her forehead thudding against the floor. Then, she carried her child out the door to handle the hospitalization procedures.
“That lady’s husband despised her for giving birth to a girl and refused to send the child for medical treatment. She decisively divorced him and asked around extensively before finding her way here. Before this, the farthest she had ever traveled was the provincial capital where they worked…”
Huang Shuo raised his head and looked at Song Xuyi, who stood off to the side. “I know why you are here.”
“I have very high hopes for you. You are intelligent and hardworking. On the path of medicine, your future is limitless…” Huang Shuo stared deeply into Song Xuyi’s eyes. “I have seen several students like you. Young geniuses, arriving with hearts full of passionate blood…”
“But medical research is a solitary, selfless path of bravery.” Huang Shuo’s gaze burned as he looked at her. “In critical moments, doctors must charge to the very frontlines. We must face the incomprehension and even the hatred of our patients. We must endure all kinds of powerlessness and the crushing defeat of being unable to save people from their pain. We must constantly introspect and repeatedly question ourselves…”
“Those who succeed become renowned across the four seas; those who fail remain entirely unknown. You will dedicate your entire life to thousands upon thousands of families, regardless of whether they are rich or poor. And in the process, your own closest kin and friends will continuously slip away…” As though recalling something, tears shimmered in Huang Shuo’s eyes. “In the end, you might be able to save tens of thousands of people, yet remain entirely incapable of saving your own loved ones. You will live in guilt forever—”
“This path is too bitter!” Huang Shuo looked at Song Xuyi. “I do not demand that you walk this path forever. But even if you continue in this profession later on, anything short of your absolute all cannot be considered doing your utmost…”
“Song Xuyi, I have inquired about your family background. You were never interested in medicine before; it was merely a sudden whim that brought you here. A family like yours is destined to face far more temptations, and there are many things that will be out of your control…”
“So you were angry,” Song Xuyi said. Hearing this, she finally understood why Huang Shuo had given her a zero. “Because so many predecessors have exhausted their strength on this path, you feel I am destined to fall short of their absolute dedication. To you, my answer on the exam paper was nothing but empty boasting. You felt it was blasphemy—that I was desecrating the sanctity of the medical arts…”
Huang Shuo did not speak, clearly tacitly agreeing with her words.
“I cannot give you a definitive answer right now, because no one can say for sure what the future holds.”
Song Xuyi took a deep breath. Straightening her spine, she looked directly into Huang Shuo’s eyes and bowed. “But I will keep this exam paper forever.”
“—One day, I will make you willingly change this score.”
The next day, the Song Corporation’s charity foundation delivered the medical funds for the little girl with the tumor.
Weeping tears of gratitude, the little girl’s mother led her daughter to Huang Shuo’s door to thank him, only to find him staring blankly out the window.
“I wasn’t the one who helped you.” Huang Shuo looked deeply at the little girl. “The person who helped you was a young woman.”
“Who is she?” The mother’s face was filled with immense gratitude. “My daughter and I must thank her personally.”
“She is…” Huang Shuo frowned. The professor, who had seen countless people in his life, paused, seemingly weighing his words. “She is a person who… currently looks as if she shines with light.”
“You don’t need to know who she is right now,” Huang Shuo said, taking a sip of his tea. His gaze fixed straight ahead, carrying a hint of anticipation he didn’t even realize was there. “So long as she is true to her word, her light will grow brighter and brighter. Within ten years, her fame will resound through the entire medical world. You will know her name eventually…”
…
Song Xuyi knew nothing of the conversation taking place in Huang Shuo’s office.
On her way back, she bought a photo frame and actually mounted that exam paper inside it.
As for donating to that little girl—the one thing Song Xuyi’s body lacked the least was money. Seeing the little girl had merely helped Song Xuyi realize the best possible use for her personal treasury: donating it to the Song Corporation’s foundation to help the thousands upon thousands of people in need.
Amidst Father Song and Mother Song’s complicated, emotional sighs of “Our Xuyi has finally grown up,” Song Xuyi returned to campus and threw herself back into a state of frantic, obsessive studying.
She absorbed medical knowledge with an almost ravenous thirst, completely isolating herself from the lively, bustling social life the original owner had led. Living like an old pedant, her daily routine became utterly monotonous. She shuttled back and forth between her dorm, the lecture halls, and the library, leaving early in the morning and returning late at night.
It was a terrifying level of willpower. Keeping it up for a day or two was one thing, but persisting over the long term, rain or shine…
Song Xuyi’s relentless effort even sparked a few rumors. Though her clothes were always presentable, they lacked designer tags. She ate frugally, her skincare products didn’t even have branded packaging, and her only piece of jewelry was a small scalpel pendant around her neck. People speculated that she must come from a deeply impoverished family and desperately needed to study hard to secure scholarships.
Huang Juanjuan had a straightforward personality. Upon hearing these rumors, she went directly to Song Xuyi for verification. Song Xuyi only smiled. “I’m not poor.”
“The reason I work so hard is that this is a hard-won opportunity for me to learn. And I’m not the only one working hard. Our profession is unique—it directly concerns the lives of our patients. My time is very limited, and I want my foundation of knowledge to be as solid as possible…”
Huang Juanjuan hadn’t expected to hear such a reason. Yet, looking at Song Xuyi’s expression, she didn’t seem to be making excuses.
Huang Juanjuan remained silent for a long time. Early the next morning, she dragged herself out of bed and consciously trailed behind Song Xuyi to the library…
The other students didn’t know exactly why Song Xuyi was pushing herself so hard, but there was a distinct, captivating charm to her complete and utter focus. It made people unconsciously want to mimic her. Many of her classmates were swept up by her momentum, beginning to meticulously plan their own schedules and strive to catch up.
Such a hardworking and beautiful girl naturally attracted affection. Many boys at the university tried to court her, but Song Xuyi rejected every single one of them.
Amidst the grueling schedule she had set for herself, Song Xuyi hadn’t forgotten her mission. Every morning and evening, she set aside half an hour to check on the progress of her tasks.
Just as expected, the male lead, Song Jun, and the female lead, Sun Wan, had reunited abroad and were currently together. Furthermore, Song Xuyi discovered that Sun Wan was also studying medicine and possessed considerable talent in the field. Recently, she had been helping Song Jun care for his grandmother, who suffered from Alzheimer’s disease.
Tracking Zhao Qingyu’s movements was even easier. So long as she took a stroll through her Super Topic2, she could instantly find out Zhao Qingyu’s schedule.
By the end of the semester, Zhao Qingyu had finished shooting her movie and had already joined another production crew. Sensing the unfathomable depths of Zhao Qingyu’s character, Song Xuyi knew she lacked the mental energy to play psychological games with her. She decided to play things by ear from now on. However, to solidify her identity as a loyal fan and to prevent Zhao Qingyu from being bullied by anyone else, Song Xuyi arranged for the old butler to send a bouquet of flowers to the film set every week.
As for herself, Song Xuyi sent a WeChat message to Zhao Qingyu every single morning and night.
But honestly, Song Xuyi assumed Zhao Qingyu had blocked her.
Whenever Song Xuyi refreshed Zhao Qingyu’s WeChat Moments, the feed was completely blank. Zhao Qingyu had never once replied to her messages. In the beginning, Song Xuyi only sent messages like “Good morning, muah,” and “Good night, remember to rest,” treating it like a mandatory KPI to establish her image as a fanatic fan. But as time went on and Zhao Qingyu never responded, Song Xuyi relaxed. She began to treat Zhao Qingyu’s chat window as a tree hole3.
She would message about how many English vocabulary words she memorized that day, how terrible the cafeteria food was, or whatever jokes she happened to hear…
This routine continued straight into the winter break.
The moment the holidays started, Song Xuyi apprenticed herself at the medicine hall of an old gentleman who practiced traditional medicine. The old man was renowned nationwide, and countless patients sought his consultations. Song Xuyi shadowed him for over ten days, learning numerous traditional methods for health cultivation. Her life was incredibly busy. Consequently, her memory slipped on certain details, and her daily check-ins with Zhao Qingyu lapsed for several days.
It wasn’t until New Year’s Eve4 arrived and Song Xuyi returned to the Song Family Estate for the Spring Festival that she remembered. The relatives dropping by were simply too noisy, so Song Xuyi hid upstairs. On a sudden whim, she recorded a video of the neighborhood children setting off fireworks below. After filming it, she realized she had been keeping her wealth a secret; she couldn’t send this video to her friends from school. After thinking it over, she sent it to her ‘tree hole’ instead.
Feeling the video alone was a bit too plain, she added a little something extra, sending Zhao Qingyu a WeChat transfer of ‘8888’5:
【Qingyu, Happy New Year’s Eve! Here’s some New Year’s money6 for you to buy something good to eat. Your movie premieres tomorrow, and you are absolutely going to shoot to fame!】
Even as she sent the blessing, Song Xuyi knew full well that Zhao Qingyu would achieve far more than overnight fame. She was twenty-one this year. For the next nine years, right up until the original plotline ended with the female lead Sun Wan’s death, Zhao Qingyu would remain the brightest, most everlasting star in the film industry—a cast-iron box-office guarantee and a powerhouse idol who drove countless fans to madness.
After sending the message, Song Xuyi put her phone down and went downstairs to eat the reunion dinner with her family. When she handed out the gifts she had prepared in advance, watching her family members’ expressions light up until they looked like they were about to cry, Song Xuyi sighed inwardly and made an excuse to retreat back upstairs.
She had collected a massive handful of checks as New Year’s money tonight. Even though she planned to donate them to the charity foundation the very next day, it didn’t dampen the pure joy of raking in the red envelopes.
In high spirits, Song Xuyi snapped a photo and sent it to her ‘tree hole.’ Only after she sent it did she realize that Zhao Qingyu’s avatar—which had never lit up before—seemed to be displaying a “3” for unread messages.
【Happy New Year’s Eve, Xuyi.】
【You haven’t messaged me in five days. I thought you had climbed the wall7 [Smile]8】
【I am so glad you still remember me.】
Song Xuyi felt a chill run straight up her spine. She wasn’t sure if it was just her imagination, but no matter how she looked at it, that smiling emoji seemed to radiate a distinct, chilling killing intent.
【I was just really busy recently, I didn’t ignore you on purpose!】
【I absolutely have not climbed the wall!】
Song Xuyi scrambled to explain. The moment the thought struck her that all her messy, rambling daily diaries had been seen by Zhao Qingyu, an overwhelming wave of humiliation washed over her, and she uncontrollably flushed bright red once again.
Then came a sharp Ding dong!
The chat window updated. A new message popped up, accompanied by a transfer of 99999.
【I am very happy that Xuyi is still my little fan.】
——【New Year’s money for Xiao Xuyi. [Joyful]】
The author has something to say:
The medical student’s oath in this chapter was quoted from the Baidu encyclopedia entry for it.
It seems like some universities make students recite this during their very first class. It feels incredibly ritualistic and profound.
Footnotes
- This is an excerpt from the standard oath taken by medical students in China, often recited during university enrollment ceremonies to instill a sense of profound duty.
- 'Super Topic' (chāohuà) is a feature on Weibo (a major Chinese social media platform) similar to a dedicated forum or subreddit for a specific celebrity's fandom.
- 'Tree hole' (shùdòng) is Chinese internet slang for a safe place to vent secrets or private thoughts where no one will respond or judge, originating from the story of King Midas's barber whispering into a hollow tree.
- Chuxi (chúxī) is the eve of the Lunar New Year in China, traditionally a time for families to gather for a massive reunion dinner and stay up late to welcome the new year.
- In Chinese culture, the number 8 sounds similar to the word for wealth or prosperity, making 8888 a highly auspicious amount for a gift.
- Yasuiqian (yāsuìqián) is traditional New Year's money given in red envelopes to younger people as a blessing for a safe and peaceful year.
- 'Climb the wall' (páqiáng) is fan slang for abandoning one's current idol to support someone else.
- In Chinese digital communication, the basic 'smile' emoji is often used to convey passive-aggressiveness, sarcasm, or a subtle warning, rather than genuine happiness.
- The number 9 sounds identical to the word for 'long-lasting' or 'eternity' in Chinese, symbolizing a long life or a lasting relationship.
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