Substitute Alpha Gets Confessed to by Her Ex’s Aunt on a Survival Variety Show – Chapter 172
by Little PandaHongdu Lovers
Don’t stand on ceremony with family.
So Nan Huaixu’s voice could be this sweet.
Just listening to it brimmed with happiness.
Liu Yinxi badly wanted to head to the company and keep Nan Huaixu company right that moment, but she couldn’t interrupt her while she worked—and she had matters of her own to settle, too.
She tallied up the time she’d need to terminate the lease, move, and repay the original owner’s debts, then asked, “Is next week alright?”
Nan Huaixu let out a couple of displeased little hums before agreeing. “Fine. I’ll forward your contact card to Xiao Zhu. Whatever you need, tell her—if I’m too swamped, she’ll help you in my place. How’s that?”
“Sounds good. Nothing troublesome on my end; I can manage it myself. But with Xiao Zhu added, there’ll be someone to reach you through if anything comes up.”
“Just come to me directly.”
“You might be in a meeting, or negotiating a contract. There’ll always be times you’re busy.”
A soft sigh drifted over the line, and Nan Huaixu’s voice bounced right back to life. “It’s only this week that’s hectic. Once I’ve cleared the backlog from these past few months, I’m taking next month off.”
Liu Yinxi’s mood lifted along with her tone. “Mm. I don’t know what help I can be, but if you ever need anything, just tell me.”
“I want sweet-and-sour ribs.”
“Okay.”
“Candied apples.”
“No problem.”
“Sweet taro in syrup.”
“That’s all sweet stuff.”
“But I want to eat them.”
“Fine, I’ve written them all down. I’ll make every one for you.” Liu Yinxi typed the dishes Nan Huaixu had ordered into her phone’s notepad.
The driver pulled to a stop and waited until she’d hung up before speaking. “Miss Liu, we’re here. Let me help carry your luggage upstairs.”
Liu Yinxi put on her sunglasses and cap and glanced out the window. “No need—I haven’t got much. Thank you.”
The driver got out to open her door and carried the suitcase over. “President Nan instructed me to make sure you’re safe. I’ll wait downstairs—send me a message once you’re home safe, so I can report back to her. I’ve already sent you my number. For any travel needs from now on, please contact me.”
The old, run-down walk-up1 had no underground parking and no elevator. Many of the original residents had moved away; barely a handful of households remained in the six-story building, and on a weekday afternoon the whole old compound was hushed.
Liu Yinxi shouldered her bag, hauled the suitcase up to the fifth floor, let herself in, then leaned out over the window sill and waved goodbye to the driver waiting by the building entrance.
She flipped on the breaker and the water valve, washed her face, sat in the living room under the creaky old fan for a while, then raised her phone, snapped a photo of the room, and sent it to Nan Huaixu.
Liu Yinxi: One vintage-chic compact unit [rental photo]
Liu Yinxi: I’m home ∩w∩
Liu Yinxi: can can need2
The prize money was a large transfer requiring layer upon layer of approval; even at the fastest, it would take a week to arrive. Nan Huaixu had said she’d give Liu Yinxi the lion’s share, and Liu Yinxi hadn’t stood on ceremony—she had debts to repay, and the little left over would go toward living costs.
Liu Yinxi carefully inspected each of the loan platforms the original owner had used, verified their safety, and made her records, so that the moment the prize money landed she could settle everything at once.
That done, Liu Yinxi messaged the landlord about terminating the lease and reminded her to return the deposit. Then she gave the place a quick tidy, couldn’t be bothered to turn on the gas, and took a cold shower—blissfully cool in this sweltering heat.
She came out of the bathroom with dripping-wet long hair, wrapped loosely in a towel, when her phone suddenly rang. She popped open a can of Fanta one-handed, grabbed the phone, and settled onto the sofa.
A WeChat voice call. From Xiao Zhu.
Liu Yinxi picked up. “Hello, Xiao Zhu.”
Xiao Zhu was all warmth. “Hi, Yinxi! Is now a good time? Am I interrupting?”
“It’s fine. What’s up?”
“Oh, it’s like this—President Nan says you’ve got public recognition now, so it’s best you don’t go out alone. She asked me to buy you some food and daily necessities and bring them over, so I’m calling to check what you’d like.”
What she’d like.
Liu Yinxi swept her gaze around the room—a few dozen square meters, taken in at a single glance.
Nan Huaixu was such a meticulous person; anyone who could serve as her assistant for ten years had to be just as attentive. The ordinary things went without saying—she should ask for the things no one would think to offer.
After a moment’s thought, Liu Yinxi said, “Xiao Zhu, could you bring me a portion of hot braised tofu3 and two bottles of craft beer? Oh, and two large woven bags.”
“Got it.” Laughter crept into Xiao Zhu’s voice. “President Nan told me you love soy products and spicy food—she specifically told me to get you a spicy braised portion, with beer to match. Leave it to me. The woven bags are for the move, right?”
Liu Yinxi scratched her head, feeling rather sheepish. Nan Huaixu had already thought it all through for her.
“Yes,” Liu Yinxi replied.
Xiao Zhu said, “I’ve bought the woven bags and I’ll bring them along. But when it’s time to move, President Nan has booked a moving and packing service—a professional team, boxes, packing, transport, all of it. You can rest easy.”
“Oh… um… Xiao Zhu, thank Teacher Nan for me.”
“Hehe, President Nan left word for you, too—whatever you do, don’t stand on ceremony with family. I’m off to work—see you tonight.”
Liu Yinxi set down the phone. The 1980s-era fan creaked around on its base, and the breeze it pushed stirred the hair at her shoulders.
She tipped her head back and took a few gulps of the sweet-tart soda, feeling as if she were fizzing with bubbles from the inside out.
She smiled until her eyes narrowed.
Don’t stand on ceremony with family.
How wonderful—Nan Huaixu counted her as family.
Liu Yinxi plugged in the hair dryer; the socket spat out a fine spark, and she frowned. She blow-dried her hair to half-dry, found a pair of scissors, and trimmed the bangs hanging into her eyes. Once she was fresh and tidy again, she changed into a tank top and shorts and lay on the sofa in the fan’s breeze.
Whirr—creeeak—clatter-clatter-clatter—
The old fan worked tirelessly, narrating its labor the whole while. Liu Yinxi turned on the TV and was met with a screen of static on the big-butt television4. It suddenly occurred to her that the landlord had once asked whether she wanted a TV—if so, she could pay extra for a set-top box. Of course she hadn’t, so the TV was unwatchable.
Phone it is, then.
There were texts and chat messages.
One text urged her to pay her phone bill promptly or face suspension.
Another said her water bill had accrued a late fee.
Liu Yinxi grabbed at her hair in despair: “…”
The chat messages were from Nan Huaixu.
Teacher Manman: can can need?
Teacher Manman: Able, able, need?
Liu Yinxi burst out laughing and replied: No—it’s ‘show me yours’
Liu Yinxi: It’s a homophone!
Teacher Manman: [dazed emoji]
Teacher Manman: Okay then, I’ve learned it.
Teacher Manman: [office photo]
Teacher Manman: can can word5
Liu Yinxi stared at the message for half a second, then burst into loud laughter.
She flopped back into the sofa hugging her phone; the upholstery sank, and the old faux-leather sofa split open a crack, exposing the yellow foam inside.
Liu Yinxi sat up in a hurry and smoothed the old sofa’s wound, terrified that at checkout the landlord would go over it with a magnifying glass, find one more piece of damage, and dock her deposit.
Liu Yinxi: What a gorgeous office—so high-class!
Liu Yinxi: What a clever Manman—learns in one go, extrapolates from one instance!
Teacher Manman: [sunglasses cool]
Teacher Manman: Did Xiao Zhu call you? She’s buying things to bring over.
Liu Yinxi: Mm-hm, she told me—said you asked her to buy me braised tofu. Thank you [little heart]
Teacher Manman: [you’re welcome~]
Teacher Manman: Rest well. I’m off to a meeting—talk later.
Liu Yinxi: Mm-hm-hm [well-behaved]
With food, drink, and daily necessities all being bought for her, and the rental holding little to begin with, it would be tidied in no time. Liu Yinxi suddenly felt life had switched to easy mode—as if, for the moment, there was nothing left to do.
She did a lap of the tiny apartment, walked into the bedroom, and flopped into bed.
Nothing pressing in life for now—but she hadn’t checked the system since the competition ended, and this idle stretch was perfect for a careful look.
「Good afternoon, user liuyinxi.」
「Nan Huaixu’s current favorability toward you: 75%」
「Congratulations on establishing a couple relationship with character Nan Huaixu. May the two of you be sweet and blissful, of one heart and mind.」
Liu Yinxi rolled happily over on the bed.
Thank you for the blessing.
You’re a good system.
「Your next-stage relationship with Nan Huaixu, favorability 81%–90%, Sweet as Honey: your probability of successful marking is 60%」
Er, that last, presumptuous prompt could have been skipped entirely.
Next, the inbox and notifications.
「Congratulations on completing the main-line stage task · Survival Competition.」
「This reward (15 points, two opportunities to unlock character card information, main-line completion +5%) has been deposited in the system public inbox. You may view it at any time; character-related information updates in real time.」
「Your current main-line task completion: 90%」
「When the main-line task is fully complete, the system will grant your final reward based on your performance in this book.」
「The higher your points and the more side tasks completed, the richer the reward.」
「Please continue your life of exploration, transform the original book’s main line to generate a new world—wishing you success in restarting a marvelous life.」
Liu Yinxi’s heartbeat quickened at the words ‘final reward.’ What would she receive once the main-line task was done?
The survival competition was over, and the original book’s content ended right there. Her timeline in this transmigrated world had already overtaken the original novel—so what plot was she still supposed to walk?
Nothing but the unknown lay ahead.
A wave of disorientation swept over Liu Yinxi; after a brief blankness, she quickly recovered her composure.
Thank goodness she had Nan Huaixu.
Her lover’s care and devotion gave her the confidence and courage to make her way through this world.
After sunset, the temperature eased slowly downward.
The evening breeze drifted by, bringing wave upon wave of coolness.
Liu Yinxi dragged a stool over to the big living-room window and sat in the evening breeze reading a bound volume of magazines more than a decade old.
The landlord had once bought it as essay-writing material for her child; later the child had gone on to further schooling and work, the landlord had bought a big new house in the new district, and these yellowed volumes had stayed behind in the old apartment—no telling how many tenants had thumbed through them.
That’s how old things are: traces of the years’ passage left everywhere.
A thought struck Liu Yinxi. Everyone has a day of departure. If the traces in a person’s heart are bound to fade away with the fall of a life, then carve the heart’s traces into daily living—into every corner, every facet—so the people who care about you can see them, use them, feel them.
That’s exactly why you should live together with the one you love.
Liu Yinxi closed the book, looked out at the orange sunset, and smiled, her eyes curving.
Knock knock knock.
Someone at the door.
That must be Xiao Zhu.
Liu Yinxi rose, crossed the living room, and opened the door. A lightly sweet locust-flower fragrance drifted over her, and a warm embrace pounced right onto her.
“Your delivery!”
Footnotes
- 老破小 | lao po xiao | Chinese real-estate slang for aging, run-down, small apartments in old compounds—cheap, cramped, and dated, but often prized for their central locations.
- 看看你的 | kan kan ni de | A WeChat meme: the English words 'can can need' are read aloud as a homophone of the Chinese for 'show me yours', used to ask someone for photos.
- 热卤豆干 | re lu dougan | Firm dried tofu simmered in spiced 'lu' braising broth, a popular Chinese street snack served piping hot.
- 大屁股电视 | da pigu dianshi | Literally 'big-butt TV', colloquial Chinese for the bulky cathode-ray-tube television with its protruding rear casing.
- 看看我的 | kan kan wo de | Nan Huaixu's playful riff on the 'can can need' meme: 'can can word' mimics the sound of the Chinese for 'look at mine', sent along with her office photo.
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