[GL] I'm Just A Side Character... So Why Is The Heroine Chasing Me?!-Chapter 79: Outsider

Lan Yue did not remember walking down the rest of the stairs.

One moment she was frozen in place, fingers pressed to her lips, the echo of Zhao Lingxi’s touch still lingering like a spark that refused to fade. The next moment she was in the garden, standing under the open sky, the cool air hitting her face and doing absolutely nothing to calm the storm inside her chest.

Around her, disciples hurried past, some coughing from the lingering green smoke, others complaining loudly about Tang Xiaoli’s latest disaster. The emergency chime had faded, replaced by scattered noise and the distant splash of someone checking the carp pond for contamination.

Lan Yue heard none of it properly. 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

Her brain had fixated on one thing.

Soon.

Again.

"That woman," Lan Yue muttered, dragging both hands down her face. "That evil, terrifying, emotionally devastating woman."

She started pacing.

Back and forth. Three steps one way. Turn. Three steps back.

"That was a kiss. That was absolutely a kiss. You cannot just downgrade that to a collision. Collisions do not involve... lips. Lips are intentional. Lips are..." She stopped, groaned, and covered her face again. "Okay, maybe not intentional, but still. It happened. It counts. It has to count."

Her pacing resumed.

"And then she laughed. She laughed. I almost died and she laughed. No, that is not fair. It was a good laugh. A very good laugh. A dangerous laugh. Why is everything about her dangerous?"

A passing disciple slowed down, gave her a concerned look, and then quickly sped up again.

Lan Yue pointed at them. "Do not judge me. I am going through something."

They fled.

Lan Yue sighed and looked up at the sky.

Calm. Blue. Completely indifferent to her emotional collapse.

"Soon," she said again, quieter this time.

The word no longer felt like a weapon. It felt like a countdown.

And that was somehow worse.

She stayed in the garden longer than necessary, waiting for her heart to settle into something that resembled a normal rhythm. It did not cooperate. Every time she thought she was fine, the memory replayed again.

The impact.

The warmth.

The brief, impossible stillness where the world had narrowed to a single point of contact.

Lan Yue pressed her lips together.

Still tingling.

"Unbelievable," she whispered.

When she finally returned to the room, Zhao Lingxi was already there.

Of course she was.

Seated at the table. Composed. A fresh set of robes. Hair neatly tied as if she had not, less than an hour ago, laughed herself into near collapse on a staircase.

Lan Yue stopped at the doorway.

Zhao Lingxi looked up.

Their eyes met.

And for a single, suspended moment, everything from the staircase came rushing back in full force.

Lan Yue almost turned around and left.

"Close the door," Zhao Lingxi said calmly.

Lan Yue closed the door.

She remained standing near it, as if proximity itself was a risk.

Zhao Lingxi watched her for a second, then gestured to the seat across from her. "Sit."

Lan Yue sat.

Very carefully. Very stiffly. Like someone attempting to exist without making any sudden movements that might trigger another... event.

Silence stretched between them.

It was not the comfortable silence they had built over months. It was new. Charged. Every small sound felt amplified.

The faint clink of porcelain as Zhao Lingxi adjusted her teacup.

The soft rustle of fabric as Lan Yue shifted in her seat.

Lan Yue cleared her throat. "So."

"So," Zhao Lingxi echoed.

Another pause.

Lan Yue pointed vaguely toward the corridor. "Tang Xiaoli did not destroy the entire wing, right?"

"No," Zhao Lingxi said. "Only two rooms. And a portion of the ceiling."

"That is... reassuring."

"She has been banned from using fire lotus residue indoors."

"Long overdue."

Silence again.

Lan Yue stared at the table. Then at the teacup. Then, very carefully, not at Zhao Lingxi’s mouth.

This was fine.

This was completely manageable.

They were just two people having a normal conversation after a completely normal accident that definitely did not involve anything significant.

"You are avoiding looking at me," Zhao Lingxi said.

"I am not."

"You have looked at the table, the cup, and the wall behind me. You have not looked at me."

Lan Yue lifted her gaze.

Straight into Zhao Lingxi’s eyes.

"See," she said. "Looking."

"For how long?"

Lan Yue held the gaze.

One second.

Two seconds.

Her composure cracked at three.

She dropped her eyes immediately. "That is enough looking."

Zhao Lingxi’s lips curved.

Not a full smile. Just enough to make Lan Yue’s heartbeat spike again.

"You are flustered," Zhao Lingxi observed.

"I am not flustered."

"You have been pacing in the garden for the past fifteen minutes."

Lan Yue froze. "You saw that?"

"I saw enough."

"...I was thinking."

"You were talking to yourself."

"I process thoughts verbally."

"You threatened a passing disciple."

"They were judging me."

"They were concerned."

"They should mind their business."

Zhao Lingxi took a slow sip of tea, her gaze never leaving Lan Yue’s face. "And what conclusion did your... verbal processing reach?"

Lan Yue opened her mouth.

Closed it.

Opened it again.

"This is your fault," she said finally.

"My fault."

"Yes. You and your... your ’soon.’ You cannot just say things like that and then walk away like nothing happened. That is not normal behavior."

"I see."

"And then the stairs happened. Which, again, also your fault somehow."

"The stairs are my fault."

"Yes."

"Explain."

Lan Yue faltered. "I... cannot explain. But emotionally, I feel that it is true."

Zhao Lingxi nodded slowly. "A compelling argument."

"Thank you."

Another pause.

Softer this time.

Less sharp.

Zhao Lingxi set her teacup down. "Lan Yue."

The way she said her name made Lan Yue sit up straighter without thinking.

"Yes."

"Earlier," Zhao Lingxi said, her voice quieter now, "you called it a kiss."

Lan Yue’s entire body tensed.

"I was in shock."

"And now?"

Lan Yue hesitated.

Her fingers tightened slightly against her sleeves.

Now, with a little distance from the chaos of the moment, the word felt heavier. More real.

"It..." She exhaled slowly. "It was not exactly planned."

"No."

"It was not graceful."

"Definitely not."

"It involved questionable physics."

"Highly questionable."

Lan Yue glanced up.

Zhao Lingxi was watching her with that same warm, steady gaze.

Waiting.

Lan Yue swallowed.

"It still..." she started, then stopped.

Zhao Lingxi did not rush her.

"It still felt like something," Lan Yue finished quietly.

The room went very still.

Zhao Lingxi leaned back slightly in her chair, her expression softening in a way that made Lan Yue’s chest tighten.

"Yes," she said. "It did."

Lan Yue let out a breath she had not realized she was holding.

The tension in her shoulders eased, just a little.

"Good," she muttered. "At least I am not hallucinating."

"You are not."

Another small pause.

Then Zhao Lingxi spoke again.

"When Zhao Han arrives," she said, shifting the topic with deliberate smoothness, "I would like you to meet him as yourself."

Lan Yue blinked, caught off guard by the change. "As myself."

"Yes."

"Not as your servant."

"No."

"Not as your assistant."

"No."

Lan Yue tilted her head. "Then what am I being introduced as?"

Zhao Lingxi held her gaze.

"As someone important," she repeated.

This time, she did not stop there.

"As someone I trust. Someone I have chosen."

Lan Yue’s breath caught.

The words settled into her chest, warm and steady, pushing aside the lingering chaos from earlier.

"Chosen," she echoed.

Zhao Lingxi nodded.

"For a long time," she said, "I had very little say in anything that mattered. Who I spoke to. Where I went. What I could become."

Her voice remained calm, but there was a quiet weight beneath it.

"That is no longer the case."

Lan Yue listened carefully.

"So now," Zhao Lingxi continued, "when I say someone is important to me, it is because I have decided that they are."

Lan Yue felt her face heat up again, though for a very different reason this time.

"That is... a lot of pressure," she said lightly, trying to deflect.

"It is honesty."

"I preferred the chaos. The chaos was easier."

Zhao Lingxi’s lips curved again. "You handled the chaos very well."

"I did not. I made several high pitched noises."

"You were very expressive."

"I am never living that down, am I."

"No."

Lan Yue groaned and leaned back in her chair. "Tragic."

The tension between them had shifted again.

Still there.

Still present.

But softer now. Warmer.

Easier to breathe in.

Lan Yue glanced at Zhao Lingxi one more time, then quickly looked away.

"...For the record," she said, trying to sound casual and failing slightly, "next time, we should aim for less... physical injury."

"Next time," Zhao Lingxi repeated.

"Yes. Hypothetically. If there is a next time. Which there may or may not be. I am not assuming anything. I am just... suggesting improved conditions."

Zhao Lingxi considered this.

Then she nodded.

"Agreed."

Lan Yue blinked. "That was... easier than expected."

"I am very reasonable."

"You are not. You are terrifying."

"And yet you are still here."

Lan Yue smiled, just a little.

"Yeah," she said softly. "I am."

Outside, the garden had quieted. The last traces of green smoke were gone, carried away by the wind. The sect was returning to normal.

Inside the room, nothing felt quite the same.

Not after the staircase.

Not after the laughter.

Not after the quiet, honest words that followed.

Lan Yue reached for her teacup, her fingers steady now.

Soon, she thought.

This time, the word did not unsettle her.

It felt like something she could wait for.