Chapter 11: Reverse Maneuver

Chapter 11: Reverse Maneuver

She tugged at Roland’s leather jacket sleeve, suddenly reverting to a childlike tone. “Sister, what are we going to eat?”

“Come on, I’ll take you somewhere casual,” Roland replied, snapping back to the present while her mind lingered on the changes in Shen Yi within this world. Shen Yi had grown better after Fang Xiaoling’s disappearance, yet her absence hadn’t affected a single blade of grass or tree here. She wasn’t sure which fate was sadder.

“Okay!” Fang Xiaoling seemed to forget everything that had happened, cheerfully agreeing and following Roland out of the apartment complex.

After a while, Fang Xiaoling returned alone. She stood before the AI unit, gazing at the face she had never examined closely—familiar yet alien.

“The ideal servant…” Fang Xiaoling stared blankly at the AI, feeling as if she were looking into a mirror. “It changes—both in appearance and in the aura it exudes.”

“Sorry, guest, you do not have permission to alter this appearance,” the AI’s mechanical voice pulled Fang Xiaoling out of her reverie.

A faint, meaningful smile crept onto Fang Xiaoling’s lips, and she said no more. From nearby, the roar of an engine sounded. Turning, she saw Roland had already brought the motorcycle to the building entrance, honking to signal her.

When Roland mentioned fetching the vehicle, Fang Xiaoling had imagined all kinds of luxury cars, never expecting Roland to arrive on a decidedly ordinary motorcycle. It took some effort for her to climb onto the back seat. Upon closer inspection, the motorcycle was far from ordinary—old-fashioned, lacking an electronic ignition system. One had to turn the key and then kick vigorously to start it.

“Is this your bike?” Fang Xiaoling asked just as she was about to buckle her helmet strap. Suddenly, a powerful jolt surged forward. If she hadn’t instinctively grabbed Roland’s shoulder, she would have been thrown off.

The wild wind whipped her hair into disarray; the roaring sound drowned out everything else. The motorcycle thundered forward like a runaway bull. Fang Xiaoling shouted, “Slow down!” but her words were swept away like leaves in the breeze, falling hundreds of meters behind, never reaching the rider’s ears.

She clung tightly to Roland’s waist, resting her head against her back. Though her eyes were squeezed shut, she felt the bike nearly topple several times around sharp turns, only to regain balance at the last moment.

Time passed unknown. Gradually, Fang Xiaoling lifted her head, peering through the helmet as the trees and signposts blurred by. After a few more minutes, she removed the helmet, cradling it in one arm and only resting a hand on Roland’s shoulder when they turned corners. She began to revel in the sensation of wind scattering her hair, as if soaring through the air.

“No need to slow down. I’m fine now,” Fang Xiaoling declared, noticing the trees lining the road seemed to pass more slowly. The speed no longer stirred excitement.

“We’ve kept this pace all along,” Roland said, pressing forward. “Almost there.”

Fang Xiaoling’s heartbeat steadied. She looked down at the helmet in her arms, recalling how she had felt just half an hour earlier when she first mounted the bike—a memory that seemed like a lifetime ago.

“An ideal servant,” Shen Yi’s voice echoed once more in her ear, as if those words had always been carried by the wind, and she had unwittingly collided with it.

“Perhaps change does not mean abandoning one’s soul,” Fang Xiaoling murmured, unsure whom she addressed—maybe Shen Yi in her mind, or the fleeting wind long gone. “I am still me, only stronger than before.”

Roland slowed the bike but said nothing, as if unaware of Fang Xiaoling’s words. The pace became leisurely, like a well-fed panda on a stroll. Maybe it was her imagination, but Fang Xiaoling could even hear Roland’s breathing inside the helmet. She waited for her to speak, but Roland remained silent.

After a long pause, Fang Xiaoling could no longer restrain herself. “Sister, how do I catch the top student at school?”

The motorcycle seemed to respond to her question, halting as if voice-activated. Roland pulled out the key, propped the bike up with the side stand, and slowly took off her helmet. Acting as if she’d forgotten the question, she pointed ahead.

“See that?”

Fang Xiaoling followed her finger to a patch of yellow rapeseed flowers blanketing green fields. Beyond lay rows of neat plastic greenhouses. At the far left stood an old wooden cabin.

“See what? There’s nothing there.”

“It’s all mine.” Roland withdrew her hand and slipped it into her leather jacket pocket. The breeze revealed a smile that showed her teeth—her first proud expression to Fang Xiaoling. “Now do you see it?”

“Ah… I see.” Fang Xiaoling sensed clear pride in Roland’s tone but didn’t understand why she would boast about such an ordinary thing. “What’s so special about these fields?”

Roland tossed the helmet into the basket and jumped off the motorcycle. Squatting by the roadside, she admired her handiwork. “Lots of vegetables in the greenhouses, all grown by me without any help. We can pick some to eat. Oh, and there are strawberries too, though it’s not the best season now. I’ll bring you here around New Year’s to try them.”

Fang Xiaoling was gradually getting used to Roland’s unexpected talents. Whether it was farming or, if Roland claimed to build aircraft carriers, she’d accept that too. Yet she couldn’t grasp why Roland was so proud of something so commonplace. She placed the helmet on the seat and joined Roland.

“Let’s head to the city. What’s there to do here?”

“You’re young; you wouldn’t understand,” Roland said, propping her chin on her hands like a blooming peony. “We’ll eat here. This is my secret base.”

Fang Xiaoling looked where Roland was gazing, imagining a rustic farm-style restaurant with a Michelin chef hired by Roland. However, there was no visible road ahead—only fields.

“How do we get through? There’s just land in front.”

“People used to walk on the land,” Roland shrugged lightly. “Why can’t we walk on it now just because there’s a road?”

She remained crouched, then stretched her arms behind her. “Hop on my back. I’ll carry you.”

Having grown more reliant on Roland after previous experiences, Fang Xiaoling didn’t hesitate. She wrapped her arms around Roland’s neck and was carried off. Even on her back, she could feel the muddy ground beneath, each step sticky like a glue trap, the sound of shoes leaving and touching the earth.

“You’re really inscrutable,” Fang Xiaoling grumbled like a scolded child. “One moment you say you’ll abandon me and leave first; the next, you’re suddenly so considerate.”

“Which do you feel more—resentment or affection?” Roland’s pace was slow but effortless as she walked into the rapeseed flowers, surrounded by their rich fragrance.

“I don’t know how to describe it. To give a crude example, I feel like a little dog: one moment punished and sad, the next moment, when the owner shows a bone, I’m happy again.” Fang Xiaoling hadn’t thought deeply about it but noticed the unique scent of Roland’s shampoo—a fragrance she’d never smelled before. If she had to guess, it was the scent of the moon. But what exactly did the moon smell like?

“Actually, that kind of thing raises your favorability,” Roland began to share some tactics, since Fang Xiaoling had been dragged into this. “If I just left you to finish the mission alone, that wouldn’t be humane,” she said, continuing as they walked. “Charm isn’t just a one-way positive trait. Have you heard the term ‘simp’?”

“I have, but I don’t see it as an insult.” Fang Xiaoling pictured Shen Yi’s cold demeanor, silently wishing, “If anyone wanted to be my simp, I’d treat them wholeheartedly.”

“Love isn’t that simple, or the world wouldn’t have so many singles,” Roland said, carrying her out of the rapeseed and toward the wooden cabin. “If your mouth is always full of fruit, eventually you won’t taste its sweetness. Someone who’s always good to you becomes boring over time. You might think they’re a perfect person, but the love’s spark is missing.”

“Only those who don’t cherish would feel that way, right?” Fang Xiaoling couldn’t imagine what it would be like if Shen Yi treated her well every day. “At least I wouldn’t hurt someone who truly cares about me.”

Roland didn’t argue but urged her to recall past events. “You treated Shen Yi kindly, but he hooked up with a female colleague and wanted a divorce. Then you followed my advice, acted indifferent, and he started chasing you again. That’s the reverse maneuver. It not only creates charm but also piques curiosity, making someone want to find out more.”

Fang Xiaoling was silent for a long time, forced to acknowledge these facts, yet she didn’t believe she would fall into such a human trap. She saw herself as unique, immune to being emotionally manipulated. “Alright, I admit you have some points. But these tactics depend on the person. I don’t think I found you gentle just because you ignored me in the elevator then suddenly cared. It’s because you’re my sister. I have Li Mengling’s memories, and she was always gentle.”

“Emotional rationalization—people always justify outcomes that have already happened,” Roland said as they entered the courtyard in front of the cabin. She set Fang Xiaoling down on a wooden stool, stretching her arms. “You have so much to learn. Do you think only fools get tricked? It’s often the smart, arrogant ones who fall for it. I attended NLP training—Neuro-Linguistic Programming’s international system. Do you know how long it takes a master salesperson there to make a stranger buy something? Thirty seconds. From the first second of meeting, the other person unknowingly falls into their trap for manipulating human nature. It’s not just skilled talk; every gesture, every subtle expression influences the other’s subconscious.”

(End of chapter)