The delicate cannon fodder is stunning, saving the male supporting role but getting teased instead

My dears, the last chapter has been expanded by 2000 words. There is no separate chapter. Please don't forget to read the last chapter again~

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The plum rain season in the south has just passed, and there is still damp moisture on the stone roads of the small town.

Wenrou held an umbrella, walked through the mottled shadows of the trees, and headed towards her apartment in the old town. This was her seventh day back in her hometown, and time seemed to slow down here.

Wutong Apartment is an old building from the 1990s, with its gray-white exterior walls covered with ivy.

She rented a one-bedroom apartment on the fifth floor, facing south. She could see the moat and the green mountains in the distance from the window. Every morning, before the mist on the river had cleared, she could hear the breakfast vendor downstairs shouting in dialect: "Soy milk and fried dough sticks—"

The sound of the key turning was particularly crisp in the quiet corridor.

Pushing open the door, sunlight streamed across the living room. The room still bore traces of the previous tenant—faded floral curtains, a chipped wooden coffee table, and a crooked calendar on the kitchen wall. Wenrou placed her suitcase against the wall and began to set up this temporary home, piece by piece.

The new company was located in the East City Development Zone and was a well-established state-owned enterprise. On the day of the interview, the HR manager flipped through her resume and frowned slightly: "Ms. Wen seemed to have worked at an entertainment company before. Why did you want to work here?"

"I want to change my environment." She answered with a gentle smile, her fingertips unconsciously stroking the red rope on her wrist.

This was what she bought at a stall near the station on the day she left City B. The rough weaving technique was very similar to the one Chu Mo gave her in a certain world.

The office is on the sixth floor, facing north. The lighting is not very good, but it is quiet.

Her workstation was by the window, and on her desk was a company-issued black keyboard and a yellowed calculator.

The daily work is nothing more than organizing reports and checking data, which is so simple that it is a bit boring.

During lunch break, colleagues gathered in the tea room to chat about family matters, but she always sat quietly in the corner, nibbling the food she got from the cafeteria.

All social media apps have been uninstalled from my phone.

Only parents and the company know the new number.

Occasionally, when she passed by a newsstand, she would unconsciously quicken her pace to avoid the magazine covers that contained entertainment news.

Last week, Shen Che's advertisement suddenly played on the TV in the supermarket. She stood there in a daze until the customer behind her urged her impatiently, and then she hurriedly pushed the shopping cart away.

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At dusk, Wenrou likes to stand on the balcony and watch the sunset.

The moat shone with golden ripples in the setting sun, and the outlines of the green hills in the distance were blurred by the twilight.

She held the teacup in her hand, and in the mist, she vaguely saw a familiar figure on the other side of the river.

But when she blinked, the phantom disappeared in the evening breeze.

"Are you daydreaming again?" Aunt Wang poked her head out from the balcony next door, holding a watering can. "Little girl, remember to eat on time when you live alone."

He smiled gently and nodded.

This retired teacher was the first person in the entire building to talk to her, and he always liked to give her some homemade rice dumplings or pickled vegetables across the balcony.

This simple care reminded her of the neighborhood relationships she had as a child, simple and warm.

At night, she lay in bed, listening to the occasional sound of motorcycles passing by outside the window.

The old house has poor sound insulation, and the quarrels of the young couple upstairs and the opera on the TV next door can be heard clearly.

The hustle and bustle of the city made her feel at ease compared to the online abuse.

One night, after tossing and turning, Wenrou got up and took out the notebook from the drawer.

There was a photo cut out of a magazine tucked into the notebook - a silhouette of her accidentally caught in the photo backstage at an event, with Shen Che's blurry outline in the corner.

My fingertips gently stroked the familiar face, and a tear suddenly fell on the paper, blurring the ink.

"Maybe those memories are really just my fantasy..." She muttered to herself, closed the notebook and stuffed it back into the deepest part of the drawer.

The alarm clock rang on time in the early morning.

I gently opened the curtains and found that it had rained lightly last night, and the green plants on the windowsill were covered with crystal water droplets.

She changed into a simple white shirt and black trousers and tied her hair into a ponytail in front of the mirror. The woman in the mirror had a calm look in her eyes, showing no signs of emotion.

Before going out, she habitually checked every appliance and made sure the windows were locked.

This habit was brought back from City B, when she was always worried that crazy fans would find her residence. Thinking about it now, such worries seemed unnecessary in a small town.

There was a community notice posted in the elevator saying that the old electrical circuits would be renovated.

Wenrou silently noted the time, thinking about taking a day off that day. This trivial daily routine gave her a sense of peace of mind, like being an ordinary person again.

The sycamore tree downstairs has dropped some leaves again, and the sanitation workers are cleaning it up.

Wenrou avoided the puddles and walked towards the bus stop on the corner. A new breakfast shop had opened next to the bus stop. Steam was rising from the steamer, and the aroma of fried dough sticks wafted far away.

She bought a cup of soy milk, and the proprietress enthusiastically gave her a tea egg as an extra gift.

"Miss, have you just moved in? Come over often!"

She nodded gently and thanked him, and suddenly realized that in this city, she was no longer the assistant who was subjected to cyberbullying, nor was she the heroine in the scandal, but just an ordinary office worker.

This ordinary identity made her feel more relaxed than ever before.

The bus slowly approached, carrying her towards another peaceful working day.

Wenrou looked out the window at the familiar street scene and suddenly remembered that long ago, in some forgotten world, someone had said to her: "Sometimes the simplest days are the most precious happiness."

She didn't know who said this, but at this moment, the sunlight shone through the car window onto the back of her hand, warm and cozy, like a belated hug.

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It has been raining outside the window all day.

Wenrou held the freshly brewed jasmine tea in her hand and curled up in a corner of the sofa.

Amidst the aroma of tea, she gazed lost in thought at the winding water marks on the windowpane. This was her third week back home, and life was gradually getting back on track—if you ignored those moments when she suddenly woke up from her dreams in the middle of the night.

When the doorbell rang suddenly, she almost knocked over the teacup in her hand.