Chapter 56: It should be double the joy

Meng Zhi’s expression was something else.

Across from him, Lin Yuhan was completely unaware, her cheeks puffed out with food, a blissful look on her face.

“Hm? What’s up?”

“N-Nothing…” Meng Zhi gave an awkward smile.
“Do you always eat like this?”

“No way.”
Lin Yuhan sighed with a hint of grievance.
“If I ate this sloppily in front of my parents, I’d get scolded.”

“Good thing I’m out with you, so I don’t have to care and can eat however I want.”

With that, she grinned and took another big bite.

Meng Zhi hesitated but decided against commenting.

‘…This girl doesn’t even bother pretending in front of me.’

‘Even if she’s reborn, isn’t she trusting me a bit too much?’

“Why aren’t you eating?”

“Uh, I’m still figuring out what to start with.”

“Oh, just eat whatever catches your eye!”
Lin Yuhan waved it off casually.
“I love buffets the most. No need to stress about what to eat—everything in sight is fair game. I always eat my money’s worth, and it’s the best feeling ever.”

‘Everything in sight is fair game…’

Meng Zhi suddenly worried she might look at him and start drooling.

In a few bites, the giant burger was gone.
Lin Yuhan sucked on her finger contentedly, her slender finger slowly slipping from her lips in an oddly suggestive way.

Noticing Meng Zhi’s stare, her face flushed with embarrassment.
“D-Don’t look…”

“I was wondering if you’d get nail polish in your mouth from sucking your finger like that.”

Lin Yuhan’s expression darkened instantly, like a growling puppy.

“…Hmph.”

Meng Zhi felt a light kick under the table.
Lin Yuhan huffed, turned her head, and went back to devouring her food.

This buffet really did look amazing.
Meng Zhi hadn’t expected Lin Yuhan, who owed him a meal, to pick such a high-end place.

But why overthink it? A rare chance to eat well—might as well dig in.

With that, Meng Zhi let loose, grabbing a pile of oysters, scallops, shrimp, and crab.

Seafood buffets were all about the good stuff, after all.

He probably wouldn’t eat his money’s worth like Lin Yuhan, but he’d get as close as he could.

Lin Yuhan was the type who lit up with happiness when eating good food.
Her joy at the buffet was practically visible.

Meng Zhi glanced at her a few times, then focused on his own food, scrolling through his phone.

“What’re you looking at?”

“Nothing… just some random videos.”

“Hey.”
Lin Yuhan swallowed her food, her expression turning shy as she asked quietly,
“Do you ever read novels?”

Meng Zhi’s hand paused mid-bite.

“Sometimes. Why?”

“Well…”
She looked down, her tone bashful.
“I’ve been trying to write a novel recently, but I don’t have many readers yet.”

“If you don’t mind, could you take a look?”
Her eyes sparkled with hope, her lashes fluttering.

‘…Here it comes.’

So she’d chosen to keep writing novels after all.

It wasn’t exactly a surprise.
This girl might seem carefree, but she was stubborn about some things.

“Writing novels? That’s impressive.”
Meng Zhi smiled.
“Let me check it out.”

“Oh, download this app and search…”

Under Lin Yuhan’s guidance, Meng Zhi installed the app and opened the profile for an author named “Hanlin Xiangwan.”

‘… Reborn to Fall in Love?’

A book he hadn’t seen in his past life.

Did she write a whole new one?

Curious, Meng Zhi clicked in.
The novel was still short, about 100,000 words.
As he skimmed, something felt off.

“Uh, can I ask something?”

Meng Zhi’s expression turned odd.
“Does your male protagonist… have a real-life inspiration?”

“Nope,” Lin Yuhan said with a smile.
“Just a completely made-up character.”

“Really? But—”

“Nope.”
She grinned wider.

Meng Zhi’s mouth twitched.

‘No matter how you look at it, this protagonist is me.’

The novel was about a female protagonist who, after failing to end up with the male lead in her past life, was reborn and determined to win him over.

But the details didn’t feel made-up at all—they were clearly based on reality.

Even the male lead’s name, “Meng Zhi”…
She wasn’t even trying to hide it!
Why use “Zhi” anyway? Such a weird choice.

From what he read, the story was surprisingly normal so far.
But Meng Zhi knew Lin Yuhan’s writing could get wild.
If she wrote on an off day, the plot could gallop off like a runaway horse into bizarre territory.

“Not bad. Pretty interesting.”

He’d mostly finished reading, and the meal was winding down.

As Meng Zhi wiped his mouth and put away his phone, a stack of empty plates towered in front of Lin Yuhan.

“If you keep at it, I bet a lot of people will read it.”

“Thanks!”
Lin Yuhan’s cheeks flushed, clearly pleased by the praise.

“But why’d you suddenly start writing novels?”
Meng Zhi feigned curiosity.

“Oh, it’s been a dream of mine for a while.”
Lin Yuhan scratched her head shyly.

“And… someone once told me that if you have a dream, you should stick with it. You never know—something good might happen.”

Meng Zhi froze, then lowered his eyes slightly.
“Sounds like an optimistic guy. A friend of yours?”

“Who knows?”
Lin Yuhan propped her chin up, flashing her cute tiger tooth with a grin.
“I just wanted to try following his advice. Writing novels really does make me happy.”

“I stuck with it for a while before… but I gave up for various reasons.”

“I kept wondering if I didn’t try hard enough. If I just kept at it a bit longer, maybe something good would happen…”

As she spoke, her grip tightened on her skirt where Meng Zhi couldn’t see.

He listened quietly, saying nothing.

“What about you?”
Lin Yuhan suddenly asked.
“Do you think if I keep writing, I’ll succeed?”

Meng Zhi’s lips moved, but after a moment, he just shook his head slowly.

“I don’t know.”

A flicker of disappointment crossed Lin Yuhan’s eyes.

“But I think doing what makes you happy is never wrong.”

Meng Zhi’s tone lightened.
“As long as writing makes you happy, keep at it.”

“After all, being happy is what matters most, right?”

Lin Yuhan saw his smile.

Her eyes suddenly flashed with a memory from long ago.
In it, a boy apologized to her with a bitter expression.
When she asked why, he only hung his head in defeat.

‘My existence… made you unhappy.’

‘I’m sorry.’

Those words haunted her like a nightmare, keeping her awake countless nights.

She didn’t understand why he vanished or why he said those things.

She loved writing novels. She loved him.
Together, they should’ve doubled her joy.

Since when did those two things…

…start making her feel pain instead?