After the 99th Confession, The Cold School Beauty’s Personality Collapsed - Chapter 70:

Chapter 70:

The moment Qin Luo heard the system prompt, he fell into deep thought, his gaze on Jia Ting growing more complex.

The system’s target selection was random, but not entirely. It wouldn’t assign someone far away, like across the ocean, but would pick from those nearby.

The target group included people with distinct personalities who could be influenced.

Qin Luo only knew a handful of people. Ji Yan was already off the list, but Jia Ting, Hao Meng, Shi Yulu, Jiang Zhitao, Yao Yanyan, and Ling Long were all possibilities. Their personalities were prominent enough to warrant strategies from the system. Even Zhang Ru was one of them.

So, the system would have to pick from these options.

Qin Luo had been wondering who it might choose as the next target, secretly hoping it wouldn’t be Zhang Ru. Having to confront her would feel wrong, even if it wasn’t illegal, it would be morally questionable.

Thankfully, the system chose Jia Ting. Though surprised, it wasn’t entirely unexpected.

But what kind of challenge would she be?

Was she like Ji Yan, or even more complex?

Qin Luo’s thoughts raced as he tried to assess Jia Ting through the lens of the “perfectionist” setting. His eyes scanned her, evaluating his strategy options.

Noticing his intense look, Jia Ting glanced away from her phone and turned to him. Their eyes met, her expression shifting momentarily before she asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Qin Luo replied, shaking his head as he fiddled with his phone.

Jia Ting didn’t dwell on it and resumed watching a video.

After a moment, she said, “This song… it’s really nice. ‘Between the Rainbows,’ and ‘Hongjian’—both of them are your original songs. I didn’t expect you to have that kind of talent.”

“Really? Which one do you like more?” Qin Luo asked casually.

“Hongjian,” Jia Ting answered without hesitation. “I’m not as musically inclined as Shi Yulu, but ‘Hongjian’ just sounds better. And…”

“And what?” Qin Luo prompted.

“Happy stories are nice, but they’re often forgotten. Sad stories, though—they linger in people’s hearts, leaving a lasting impression, even after a long time.”

Her words made Qin Luo glance at her sideways. She seemed to be recalling the school celebration, and her expression turned a little sad.

Qin Luo didn’t show it outwardly, but he had a clearer sense of her personality now. Most people wouldn’t speak so candidly, but Jia Ting wasn’t most people. She was a literary type, not easily swayed by others’ opinions.

A perfectionist with a love for literature—this would be difficult.

Qin Luo shifted his focus back to his phone, but Jia Ting noticed his earlier look. She bit her lip slightly, wondering what he was thinking.

She knew her own personality well.

She enjoyed reading and often shared deep thoughts, much to the dismay of her friends who often said she was too literary. But she didn’t care. She was aware that not everyone liked that side of her.

When Qin Luo glanced at her, she half-expected him to mock her like her roommates sometimes did. But he didn’t. Instead, he seemed to understand her at that moment and moved on without a word. This realization made her feel strangely elated.

She glanced at his phone and saw the words “perfectionism” on the screen. Jia Ting blinked, curious.

Why was he looking that up?

She knew herself well enough to acknowledge her perfectionist tendencies. Since she was a child, she had always strived for perfection, constantly battling between the imperfections of the world and her desire to achieve flawlessness.

Even when playing games, Jia Ting wouldn’t move on until she’d achieved three stars on each level. If she couldn’t, she’d quit the game entirely. To some, this seemed obsessive, but to her, it was just part of who she was.

Seeing Qin Luo searching for “perfectionism” piqued her curiosity.

Was he doing this out of interest, or because of her?

It didn’t seem likely that he’d randomly decide to look it up. There had to be a reason—someone must have triggered this thought. And on this plane, if anyone reminded people of perfectionism, it was her.

Yet, she couldn’t be sure what Qin Luo was thinking. She hadn’t spent much time with him, and the idea that he might have figured out such an intimate detail about her felt strange.

Meanwhile, Qin Luo had no idea his simple action had sparked so many thoughts in Jia Ting. He was focused entirely on his phone. The definition of perfectionism read: “Similar to obsessive-compulsive disorder, it stems from dissatisfaction and a constant pursuit of flawlessness, often linked to insecurity.”

With Jia Ting as his new target, Qin Luo needed to figure out how to dismantle her character. Unlike Ji Yan, whose aloofness was common and easy to crack, Jia Ting’s perfectionism was more complex.

How do you get a perfectionist to accept something imperfect? He couldn’t answer that.

The thought left Qin Luo feeling a bit overwhelmed. Among all the distinct personalities around him, Jia Ting seemed the hardest to break.

Jiang Zhitao, a star, could be pushed to self-destruction by making her give up fame. Ling Long, who identified as a lesbian, would only need to fall for a man to unravel her character. Zhang Ru was off-limits, but if she were a target, her character was tied to her daughter. The solution there would be to shift her control to others instead of her daughter.

These were clear-cut solutions. But with Jia Ting, nothing seemed straightforward. He had even hoped the system wouldn’t choose her, but here they were.

After a long pause, Qin Luo sighed in frustration.

Having noticed this, Jia Ting asked, “Why are you sighing?”

Qin Luo replied, “I’m just wondering how a newbie can defeat a high-level boss.”

Jia Ting laughed. “That sounds like something Mengmeng would say. Do you like gaming?”

Qin Luo shook his head and was about to put his phone away when a sentence on the screen caught his eye. “Similar to obsessive-compulsive disorder…” He could use this as a starting point.

Suddenly, he asked, “Want to play a game?”

Jia Ting was intrigued. “What game?”

“I’ll do something, and you copy me.” Qin Luo demonstrated by pressing his thumb with his fingers, making a popping sound.

Jia Ting frowned in confusion. Why was he playing such a pointless game?

She had seen people, mostly boys, doing things like that—thinking it was cool, but often it just led to joint inflammation. Qin Luo didn’t seem like the type, so why this strange game?

Curious, Jia Ting asked, “Why are we playing this?”

Qin Luo countered, “Why not?”

“It seems pointless.”

“It’s fine if you don’t want to play.”

Hearing this, Jia Ting hesitated for a moment but still clasped her thumbs with her slender, pale fingers, imitating Qin Luo’s actions.

Qin Luo smiled and snapped the fingers of his right hand—index, middle, ring, and pinky—then did the same with his left hand. Jia Ting followed suit, even though she thought the game was boring.

As Qin Luo snapped his left ring finger, he suddenly said, “Okay, the game is over.”

Jia Ting was confused. “What about the last finger?”

Qin Luo replied, “There’s no rule that all fingers must snap.”

Though his words made sense, something felt unfinished to Jia Ting. Her face showed discomfort, and she stared at her left pinky finger. It was like a tiny stain on an otherwise clean sheet of paper—she couldn’t let it go.

Finally, unable to resist, she clasped her pinky finger with her other fingers and pressed down. But when she expected a satisfying snap, nothing happened.

Jia Ting froze. “…”

Qin Luo stifled a laugh, “Pfft.”

Jia Ting shot him a cold glance, turning away slightly so only her profile was visible. She moved her hands in front of her, pressing her pinky again. It didn’t snap the second time. Or the third.

Frustrated, she took a deep breath. She had pressed so hard her knuckles hurt, and if she kept trying, her finger might ache for days. But she couldn’t bear to leave it unsnapped. Gritting her teeth, she pressed down one last time.

Snap.

“Well…” A soft sound escaped her lips, and her body tensed for a brief moment.

Watching her, Qin Luo noticed her body trembled slightly, but she quickly returned to her composed posture. He glanced at her, seeing the slight raise in her eyebrows and the occasional twitch at the corners of her eyes, as though she was suppressing some pain. Yet, the faint smile on her lips suggested she found some relief.

Qin Luo bowed to her in his mind, amused by her struggle. Unable to stop staring at her, he finally said, “It’s a boring game.”

Her calm, dismissive tone only fueled Qin Luo’s amusement. He teased, “You think it’s boring because you didn’t finish the game perfectly.”

This statement caught Jia Ting’s attention. She looked at him, curious. “Not finished? What do you mean?”

Qin Luo smiled gently, kicked off his slippers, and raised his feet slowly. Jia Ting’s expression turned blank.

“You understand now, don’t you?” Qin Luo grinned at her.

Jia Ting didn’t respond, but the look in her eyes said, “Are you serious?”

Laughing, Qin Luo added, “Most people can snap their fingers, but it’s much harder to snap their toes. It’s okay if you can’t finish it; there’s no need to stress over something so trivial.”

Jia Ting’s eyebrows furrowed in frustration. She looked like she wanted to lift her foot, but she hesitated. Instead, she kept her original posture, secretly wiggling her toes in her slippers, trying to make them snap.

But no matter how hard she tried, only a few toes seemed to budge.

Jia Ting’s competitive side surfaced. She instinctively wanted to grab her toes with her hands, but then she stopped, glancing at Qin Luo beside her.

Qin Luo noticed her hesitation and casually said, “It’s not like I haven’t seen it before. Don’t worry.”

She remembered how Qin Luo had seen her feet before while applying medicine. A blush spread across her face, but she stubbornly bent down, clasping her toes out of Qin Luo’s view.

Minutes passed, and when Jia Ting finally sat up straight, a thin layer of sweat covered her forehead, dampening her bangs. Her face reflected her lingering frustration.

Qin Luo, barely holding back his laughter, felt his shoulders shake slightly. Jia Ting, visibly annoyed, muttered through clenched teeth, “Boring.”

[Calligraphy +2]

[Literature +2]

[Strategy +2]

[Advanced Chess Skills Acquired]

[Future Market Magnifying Glass Acquired]

[500,000 Currency Acquired]

As the system’s notification chimed, Qin Luo couldn’t hold back any longer and burst out laughing.

Jia Ting glared at him, her chest heaving slightly as she struggled to maintain her composure. Without a word, she stood up and walked away.

Qin Luo, still laughing, called after her, “Hey, sorry, I didn’t mean to tease you. Where are you going?”

Jia Ting ignored him, heading straight to the restroom.

Qin Luo watched her leave, then sat back down, humming a tune. As he settled, he glanced at the rewards from the system.

Although Jia Ting’s rewards weren’t as extravagant as Ji Yan’s, they still exceeded his expectations. The attribute points, advanced skills, and particularly the 500,000 yuan were much more than he anticipated.

“So, what’s really hidden behind Jia Ting’s strong appearance is a rare earth mine?” Qin Luo thought to himself. “I guess it’s true—high risk, high reward.”

Just as he was musing over this, someone suddenly walked over and sat down next to him. “Aren’t girls usually slow when they go to the restroom? How is she back so fast?” he wondered. Then a strange thought flashed in his mind: “Could Jia Ting secretly be some kind of boss in disguise?”

These unrealistic thoughts swirled in his head until he glanced at the person next to him and froze. It wasn’t Jia Ting.

The woman sitting beside him was wearing a beige vest. The lines of her collarbones stood out under her white neck. The small vest did little to hide her figure, so the hem of her clothes lifted slightly, revealing her slim waist.

Her denim shorts showed off her long, slender legs, but they weren’t completely exposed—she wore fishnet stockings. The tiny holes of the stockings revealed her skin, making her legs even more noticeable.

Qin Luo couldn’t help but look her up and down.

“She might not be the most beautiful woman I know, but she’s definitely the most striking,” he thought. It reminded him of the first time she whispered in his ear during their class. She really knew how to present herself. “Self-awareness is important in a person,” he reflected.

“Do you like what you see? Want to touch?” Yao Yanyan teased, running her hand along her fishnet-covered legs. Her playful smile made Qin Luo think of a mischievous spider spirit from a story.

Qin Luo felt the urge to shout, “Hey, goblin! Face me!”

But what he actually said was, “Why are you here?”

“I came just to see you,” Yao Yanyan replied with a sweet smile, then pouted. “But it’s such a shame. Someone’s always looking at other women. I noticed you in the lounge, but you didn’t even see me. It’s really sad.”

“Not just a goblin, but a drama queen too,” Qin Luo thought, replying casually, “What a coincidence.”

“It’s not a coincidence! I told you I came here just for you!” Yao Yanyan pouted again, then stopped acting when she saw his indifferent expression. “Fine, I was planning a trip to the capital, and I didn’t expect to run into you here.”

“You’re already going on a trip right after the holiday? Why not go home first?” Qin Luo asked.

“Do you want to come home with me?” Yao Yanyan replied, dodging the question. Qin Luo ignored her.

This was the third time Qin Luo had run into Yao Yanyan—the first was in the classroom, the second in the library. Each time, she left a strong impression. He had to admit, her playful teasing really stuck with him.

As usual, Qin Luo kept his indifferent attitude, but Yao Yanyan didn’t mind. She sat beside him, smiling and chatting casually.

“You’re so amazing,” she said. “You just finished with Ji Yan, and now you’re focusing on Jia Ting. You really are the kind of man I like.”

“You might be misunderstanding something.” Qin Luo replied.

She grinned, “How long have you been with Jia Ting? Did you start dating after Ji Yan, or were you seeing her secretly while still with Ji Yan?”

“That’s a bit crude to say,” Qin Luo responded. “We just happened to be on the same plane.”

“Oh, what a coincidence. Do you think I’ll believe that?” Yao Yanyan smirked.

“Wasn’t it also a coincidence that you were on the same plane with me?” Qin Luo shot back.

“I already told you, I came here on purpose to meet you.” Yao Yanyan said with a smile. But Qin Luo didn’t buy a single word of her performance.

For Qin Luo, Yao Yanyan was like a mischievous figure—he kept his distance because it seemed like whenever a girl was around him, Yao Yanyan got especially excited. She probably rushed over the moment she saw him and Jia Ting together.

“Better hurry up and leave before Jia Ting gets back…” Qin Luo began, but before he could finish, a sudden voice interrupted him.

Both of them turned their heads to see Jia Ting standing nearby, her face expressionless.