I Will Never Submit to Miss Grim Reaper - Chapter 102
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- I Will Never Submit to Miss Grim Reaper
- Chapter 102 - With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility
The little girl on the sickbed, who appeared to be around the same age as me, had two twisted braids and a slightly pale complexion that seemed somewhat unhealthy. When it says “the same age as me”, it refers to having a similar outward appearance, around 12 years old in this context.
If I remember correctly, Lu Xinjian’s daughter, Lu Xinmeng, is 15 years old this year and is at the age of preparing to enter high school after graduating from junior high. However, the girl on the bed, in terms of both body shape and height, is similar to me. She clearly belongs to the type suffering from “malnutrition.”
Moreover, her hairstyle… twin braids and double ponytails, a small round face, making her appear much younger. By the way, how is such a hairstyle done? When I have time, I feel like I can look it up online and try to do it myself.
“Hello.”
Under the gaze of the little girl on the sickbed, I walked over slowly: “I… it’s our first meeting. My name is… Yin Nuo’er.”
Why do I feel a bit nervous?
For some reason, looking at the girl on the sickbed, who seemed somewhat weak but clearly in good spirits upon seeing me, there was always a strange and wonderful feeling in my heart.
On her body… inside the left chest, “my” heart was beating at this moment. My former heart, continuing to beat in someone else’s body, sustaining the flow of her blood and her life…
I really don’t know if this feeling should be described as “shocking” or “amazing.” It’s like a feeling of… almost like looking at someone akin to a close relative of mine, but not quite.
I think only I can truly understand this feeling in the world.
“Hello.”
Under my gaze, the girl on the bed raised the only right hand not connected to any machines and waved at me slowly: “I’m Lu Xinmeng. Dad has told me everything, and I really like the books you’ve written.”
Similar to her appearance, the voice of the little girl on the sickbed was soft and a bit hoarse, probably due to the consecutive days of hospitalization and surgery, and she hadn’t fully recovered her strength.
The girl on the bed was in a position between “lying down” and “sitting up,” with a pillow behind her, wearing a hospital gown. The area above her abdomen was exposed, and there were some monitoring lines connected to her chest and wrists. A few machines at the bedside, whose names I couldn’t recall, emitted a steady “drip-drip” sound.
“Th… Thank you.”
Being praised like this for the first time, I felt a bit embarrassed. I awkwardly ran my fingers through the long hair by my ear, habitually curling it up. “I thought I wrote quite poorly…”
I don’t know when it started, but I’ve grown accustomed to having long hair, with strands cascading down on either side of my face. I’ve also developed the habit of involuntarily playing with my hair when I feel awkward.
The development of novels is a gradual process of compromise with the market and adaptation to contemporary social trends. Initially, in our parents’ generation, most “novels” were almost all martial arts stories. At that time, most jobs had holidays, and overtime wasn’t as intense. Parents could return home around five or six in the evening to take care of their children. Kids didn’t have concepts like overtime or evening self-study, so the society was “slow-paced.” Traditional martial arts literature and urban emotional novels were just beginning to develop, and there were very few genres to choose from. Basically, if you had a passable storyline and a reasonable name, someone would read it.
Later, online novels emerged as people’s lives became faster-paced. Adults started working overtime, and children had tutoring and evening self-study, resulting in less time overall. As a result, online literature began to fold in on itself. Just like the “Psychology of Novels” that Editor Tuzi sent me, only novels with innovative plots that grip readers’ interests could survive.
My novel is more or less one of those works from this period that “has an acceptable plot but lacks any highlights.” The title isn’t outstanding, the plot is not fresh, and there aren’t many readers. It falls into the category of part-time work that can earn some pocket money, but it’s essentially a dead-end.
If placed in our parents’ generation, there might have been a chance for novels like mine to gain popularity. But now… it’s impossible.
I initially thought that everyone reads their own books with the idea of “finding some amusement” or something similar. I never expected there to be fans like Lu Xinmeng.
“Not bad! Really, not bad at all. Much better than those strange books nowadays!”
Seeing that I might be a bit “disheartened,” Lu Xinmeng immediately refuted, “During the most difficult time for me, I read your novels… It was your novels that gave me the courage to keep going. The bravery of the protagonist, the strength of Nuo’er, and the people in those books, each one seemed to be living right in front of me. When I found out that Yae-Do closed down, I almost… almost because of this.”
“At that time, Xinmeng knew that her dad had caused the website to collapse just to help her get treatment. She was so angry that she refused treatment for several days, feeling that she had burdened the author.”
A middle-aged woman nearby helplessly added, “She woke up in the intensive care unit and wouldn’t speak, wouldn’t listen to anyone.”
So that’s how it is?
I calmly glanced at Lu Xinjian beside me. His daughter needed money for treatment, and it was a terminal illness. Waiting for a heart wasn’t an option, and supporting hundreds of employees in the company also required funds. Forced into a corner, as a father, he had no choice but to choose to sell the company’s assets to save his daughter. However, after selling the company’s assets, Bae Joondo Novel Network, under the company, couldn’t sustain itself. His daughter happened to be a fan of a novel author on this network. Misunderstanding her father’s actions, she refused treatment.
Caught in a dilemma, there seemed to be no way out.
Listening to this, I felt like I could somewhat understand Lu Xinjian’s emotions when he cried bitterly at the market that day. Because… at that time, he couldn’t see any hope, and he truly felt “cornered and desperate.”
To save his daughter, he betrayed his own past, negated all his previous efforts, all just to see his daughter smile, to keep her alive. However, the situation not only didn’t improve but also brought about misunderstandings from his daughter and wife.
Imagine being a father. One day, the doctor tells you that your daughter’s life is in danger if you don’t pay the money. Your wife, who is taking care of your daughter in the hospital, complains about how a big boss like you lacks the ability to handle such a situation. Forced to make the painful decision to sell the company’s assets under immense pressure, you know that this decision will make hundreds of people in the company resent you, and there’s a high chance of facing legal troubles. But for your daughter, you have no choice. After that, you force a smile, preparing to go to the market like an ordinary father to buy groceries for your family. Then, your wife calls, saying that due to your actions, the novel website has closed down. Your daughter, upon learning this, refuses to eat or drink, has already been admitted to the ICU…
Wouldn’t you collapse…
“I really had no other choice at that time.”
Upon hearing this, Lu Xinjian just gave a bitter smile, “I was desperate too…”
No wonder you treat me with such respect.
I turned to Lu Xinjian, smiling somewhat awkwardly. Most people would probably feel overwhelmingly desperate in such a situation. However, at that time, there was a girl… a girl with a sweet appearance, a petite figure, a soft voice—like a daughter. She went to the roadside, bought a string of cotton candy, and gave it to this father, saying, “Even though I don’t know what you’ve been through, but even if life is bitter… at least we can make it sweet like this.”
I think… perhaps I was already seen as an “angel” at that time.
Most importantly, that day happened to be the first day I turned into a little girl, the day Miss Grim Reaper or Yin Xiamo took my original body to the hospital, and it turned out to be the day when it became clear that my previous body was ineffective and could be used for organ donation.
You can imagine that after receiving encouragement from such a lovely little girl, Lu Xinjian, as an adult who had experienced the harsh realities countless times, probably had thoughts in his mind like “Kids are too naïve, it’s impossible. Comfort is just comfort, and there won’t be any miracles happening.” Then, as he turned around, he received a call from the hospital—the transplantable heart had been found, from a young man. He was asked to come back quickly to prepare for the surgery and sign the necessary documents.
At this moment… what kind of changes would occur in this father’s heart?
Moreover, later investigations revealed that the person providing the heart for his daughter happened to be the brother of the little girl who comforted him and bought cotton candy. How would this father think?
If it were me, I would consider the other person a “lifesaver” at the very least and probably wish to bring this little girl home, treating her as my own daughter.
“It’s okay, everything is over now.”
Seeing the conversation in the hospital room gradually turning a bit gloomy, I quickly walked over, sat down by the bedside, and took out the excerpted notebook I found while sorting out the belongings of the “brother”.
“Here, this is for you.”
“What’s this?”
The girl took the notebook with one hand and flipped it open.
“It’s his previous excerpted notes,” I replied truthfully. “All of them are excerpts from some obscure novels and poetry collections.”
Before this, I hadn’t had friends who had undergone heart transplant surgery and needed me to visit them. I vaguely remembered that people who had just undergone surgery had restrictions on what they could eat. I wasn’t sure about the specifics, so when I came, I didn’t bring any fruits or drinks for Lu Xinjian’s daughter, Lu Xinmeng.
Just now, while thinking on the way here, I felt that the only thing I could give her as a “gift” might be this mood notebook.
“Come, let me take you home… those once promised, anticipated, unseen, and forgotten exquisite ideals, wither along the footsteps in pain…”
In front of me, Lu Xinjian’s daughter gently began speaking in the hospital room, “Our whole year will be spent on the road because the journey is as long as a lifetime…”
“This song is selected from the novel “Lost Aurora“, written by Qingge Man. The story is about the love story of Aurora, the goddess of dawn.”
The girl nodded, somewhat reluctantly turning to the next page.
“Give civilization to time, rather than giving time to civilization.”
“Make oneself happy and joyful; it’s part of the plan.”
Upon reading this, the girl looked up at me.
“‘The Three-Body Problem,’ by author Liu Cixin,” I nodded. “It’s a science fiction novel.”
To be honest, the lack of popularity of my previous novel wasn’t necessarily related to my sporadic updates. It was mainly due to my “literary disease,” the title, and the theme not aligning with the mainstream of society today. Just like the naive idea of wanting to become a teacher, educating and bringing joy to children with knowledge and laughter, I did a lot of research when I was writing novels.
For example, in naming the orphanage, I continued the method of using random numbers generated by a computer to memorize the dictionary.
I bought a thick dictionary, and every day I picked two random numbers, memorizing the words on the page corresponding to those numbers. Two pages a day, so I could memorize over 700 pages in a year, and after two years, I could finish even the thickest dictionary.
Although most of the time, I’d forget what I memorized after a couple of days, at least I had a rough impression of the content on that page of the dictionary. It was helpful in improving my cultural knowledge.
Similarly, I used to believe that collecting beautiful sentences like these would help improve my writing style. Since I wanted to be an author, I felt responsible to the readers. Not only did the plot have to be compelling, but the writing style also had to be exceptionally beautiful.
However, just like most who are determined to become teachers with lofty ideals, wanting to build good relationships with classmates but finding out that a large portion of the class is simply goofing off and not paying attention, in the current trend of society, memorizing dictionaries and having a good writing style are not necessary for a novel to be successful.
The beautiful sentences I had copied in the past didn’t serve much purpose.
“Th… Thank you.”
Flipping through a few more pages, I found that this notebook, almost two centimeters thick, was filled with meticulously written beautiful sentences. Lu Xinmeng, as if she had found a cherished treasure, gently closed it, hugged it to her chest, and her eyes were a bit teary. “My dream from a long time ago… was to become an author.”
I was taken aback, “Huh?”
“I have so many ideas and many stories I want to write…”
Holding the notebook in one hand, the girl’s voice trembled a bit, “Really… thank you.”
“She really admires you,” explained Lu Xinjian next to me.
“People always say that Uncle from the Yae-Do Novel Network, who loves lolis, is a very talented author. Clearly, he writes stories diligently every day, and his writing is much better than many authors on the ranking lists, but no one reads it.”
“Ah…”
I became even more embarrassed, “It’s not really like that. I know the reasons myself—the pacing and the theme don’t conform to modern standards.”
Many books on the ranking lists got there for a reason. For example, some face-slapping novels might attract readers who think, ‘Even with such poor writing, I can get on the list,’ but when it comes to actual writing, I don’t think I can achieve their kind of ‘pace.’
Speaking of ‘pace,’ most books emphasize it—fast and slow, up and down, rises and falls, climax and anticipation, smooth during the climax, natural after the climax, and then continue building anticipation…
Perhaps those authors have excellent writing skills, but for the sake of pace and more frequent updates, they choose to give up refining their writing and invest more energy in setting up the plot and the novel’s ‘service-oriented’ nature. It’s just a different approach.
One can only say that bestselling authors have captured the preferences of current novel readers, while niche book authors have tuned into the wavelengths of a few readers.
Like my previous book, to put it frankly, the backend showed around three hundred subscribing readers every day, and the monthly income from royalties was just a few hundred yuan. But among these three hundred people, there are readers like Xinmeng who silently support me from behind. They rarely speak, but they get excited about the protagonist’s counterattack, feel relieved for the female lead’s efforts, and shed tears for the passing of minor characters.
—Encountering such readers, I feel it’s worth it.
“Hey, when you were writing this book, did Nuo’er’s brother also participate, right?” After Lu Xinjian’s words fell, Lu Xinmeng raised her little head, looked at me, and her big eyes were full of anticipation. “When you were writing, your brother must have given some opinions, right? Or maybe he has written something himself but hasn’t published it? Since the sister can write such excellent works, your brother’s literary skills must be very high, right?”
“Uh…”
For a moment, I didn’t understand the meaning behind the little girl’s words and could only respond vaguely, “Yes… that’s right.”
“Really?!”
Upon hearing my confirmation, Lu Xinmeng looked a bit excited. She reached out to cover her right chest, “Then… with this heart in my body, in my life… can I also write such words?”
This…
Perhaps feeling that the conversation had gone a bit off track and the atmosphere was even more awkward, Lu Xinjian quickly leaned over and said, “Ahem, well, Xinmeng, didn’t you have a gift to give to Sister Nuo’er?”
“Oh, right!”
As if suddenly realizing, the girl on the hospital bed slowly moved to the bedside table, opened the drawer, and pulled out a large bag containing a fancy dress.
“This… is for you.”
She handed the bag with the dress to me, and Lu Xinmeng’s little face blushed slightly, “I hope Sister Nuo’er will like it!”
A dress?
I glanced roughly at the clothes in the bag. It was a set that looked somewhat like a “loli dress,” complete with a pair of white stockings adorned with butterfly patterns that seemed luxurious but appeared quite thick.
Considering what Lu Xinjian mentioned earlier about his daughter being a “Three Pits Girl,”[1] I could easily guess that this outfit was the legendary “loli dress.”
You’re giving a macho guy a lolita dress?
Wait, I don’t seem to look like a “macho guy” now, and Lu Xinjian’s family probably has no idea about such things.
At this point, no matter what, I should probably show a “very happy” expression, right?
“Thank you!”
Although I wasn’t very familiar with the Lolita fashion culture that was popular mostly among girls, I still had to express the appropriate gratitude.
“What’s it called?”
After receiving the gift, I didn’t unwrap it immediately but instead examined the appearance and patterns of the dress on top.
Hmm… overall, it was blue, light blue, pink, and white, with several bows. The stockings also had many similar bow patterns.
Well, like a maid outfit, this style is thoroughly girly clothing. Wearing such clothes would mean that I fully embraced… or rather, entered the “high-level” realm of cross-dressing, and maybe then… there would be no turning back.
“Dreamland Amusement Park, also called Alice’s Dreamland.”
Xinmeng explained, “Sister Nuo’er and I have similar body shapes, so it should fit well!”
Hmm… although she said that, am I really going to match the body shape of a junior high school student as an adult… at least, according to my ID?
A girl who usually stays at home, likes dressing up in Lolita and JK uniforms, enjoys reading novels, and aspires to write novels—Xinmeng. I hope my heart can continue to accompany such a lovely girl.
“Dang dang dang.”
At this moment, the door to the ward was knocked. A doctor in a white coat walked in. He first looked at me, then glanced at the adjacent Lu Xinjian and went straight to the bedside.
“Lu Xinmeng.”
“I’m here.”
“How do you feel?”
The white-coated doctor, aged around fifty or sixty, asked tentatively, “Have you experienced headaches, chest tightness, or shortness of breath… any discomfort?”
“None!”
Holding the notebook I gave her, Xinmeng said spiritedly, “My body has been very good these days, and I haven’t felt any discomfort at all!”
That proud and happy expression, as if the transplanted heart was a kind of divine blessing for her. Come to think of it, she admires me as a novelist, so she probably also admires my “brother.” Upon learning that the heart transplanted into her body belongs to her idol’s relative, this child is indeed… happy.
“Not feeling uncomfortable is good. Rest well and eat on time regularly,” the doctor said, then turned to Xinjian, “Let me tell you something outside.”
Xinjian stood up, and I couldn’t help but blurt out, “Can I come along?”
The doctor looked a bit puzzled, while Xinjian nodded, “Sure.”
Outside the ward, the doctor led us into an office.
“Your daughter’s current condition… is quite peculiar, but it’s not necessarily a bad thing.”
After sitting on small chairs, the doctor took a few X-rays. “As I mentioned before, for transplant surgeries like this, patients need to take immunosuppressive drugs for the rest of their lives. This can harm the immune system. Some people have a strong immune system that continuously attacks the transplanted organ. In a year or two, the organ might not withstand it, and they may need to undergo another transplant.”
Xinjian nodded, “Yes, you mentioned that. What’s the matter? Is there an issue with the heart?”
“There is an issue…”
The doctor paused, perhaps noticing Xinjian becoming anxious, and quickly added, “Don’t worry, the problem I’m talking about is not with the heart or your daughter.”
“What exactly is it then?”
“After observing her for these days, considering her medication and blood tests… there is a peculiar situation. Usually, after a transplant, there may be some inflammation or coughing. Let me explain briefly. Your daughter’s transplanted organ hasn’t shown the expected signs of rejection.”
“Isn’t that good?” Xinjian was a bit confused. “Wasn’t it said that severe rejection reactions could lead to a recurrence of the illness?”
“That’s where the problem lies. In our medical experience, this is incredible. Can you understand? Patients with minimal rejection reactions or some chronic rejection are not uncommon after transplant surgeries. However, a patient recovering so quickly without any rejection or inflammation is the first case we’ve encountered clinically. It means… it means she’s challenging our understanding.”
Xinjian was even more bewildered, “So, what will happen to my daughter?”
“She won’t be affected much. If this heart continues to function without rejection reactions and remains healthy, your daughter is essentially no different from a healthy person. Most patients face a lifelong medication regimen with significant risks of recurrence after transplant surgeries, but your daughter’s case is strange—everything is going exceptionally smoothly, and even the blood tests show nothing.”
“So, it’s good news?”
“It’s good news, but it’s also bad news.”
The doctor adjusted his glasses, “In ordinary transplant cases, if there’s a rejection reaction or any other issue, we can tailor treatment accordingly. However, in your daughter’s case, at least for now, we can’t identify the nature of her rejection reaction. We’ve been conducting routine blood tests and imaging studies for the past few days, and we can’t find anything. That heart seems like it has always been a part of her body.”
“This means your daughter’s condition has no precedent in medical history. The absence of precedents implies that we lack experience in dealing with potential future developments. It could also be an extremely slow chronic rejection reaction. I want to make it clear here that you should be mentally prepared for any possible scenarios.”
“Oh, okay.”
Xinjian nodded, “So, you mean the surgery, including the postoperative recovery, has been very successful?”
“Extremely successful. It’s so good that it has left many chief physicians scratching their heads.”
“No problem. If any issues arise in the future, I’ll bring my daughter back.”
Taking a deep breath, Xinjian said, “As long as everything is fine for now.”
“Then, this month, take extra care and pay more attention to her physical condition. Obvious signs of rejection typically appear between 15 to 30 days after the surgery. Some may experience it after two to three months of medication.”
The doctor stood up, “Keep a close eye on her over the next few months.”
“Okay.”
Exiting the office with Xinjian, we returned to the ward. I saw Xinmeng holding onto the notebook, absorbed in reading the words on it as if trying to etch everything into her mind.
“Xinmeng, Sister is about to leave!”
At the doorway, Xinjian waved towards the little girl inside, “Say goodbye to Sister!”
“Goodbye, Sister Nuo’er!”
The girl in bed waved to me, “After I get better, I’ll vote for your book!”
“Thank you.”
I smiled, “But more importantly, take good care of yourself. Don’t overexert, and remember to eat on time.”
“I will!”
“Yeah, goodbye then. If you need anything, feel free to contact me directly in the group.”
“Okay.”
“…”
…
Exiting the ward, with the rabbit backpack on my back and clothes in my arms, we took the elevator together to the parking lot downstairs.
“Uncle Lu.”
As Lu Xinjian brought the car over and we got in, I hesitated for a while, “Are you very familiar with the doctors in this hospital?”
“I’m quite familiar with both him and the hospital’s director.”
Lu Xinjian sounded proud, “We’ve been old classmates.”
No wonder you could find so much information.
“Well… can you also find out who received my brother’s… donated organs back then?”
“Sure, at that time, your brother donated to three girls in this hospital—my daughter, one in the ophthalmology department for corneas, and another for kidneys. However, the child who received your brother’s kidneys transferred to another hospital after the surgery.”
Lu Xinjian turned back, “Do you want to check?”
“Whether to check or not… either way is fine.”
Feeling a bit disoriented, I took out my phone, opened QQ, and was about to ask the Death Reaper Girl why she had thrown me into this mess. Suddenly, a notification popped up, indicating a friend request from someone named “Final Dream.”
?Sister Nuo’er, this is my new number! I forgot the password for the old one!?
?I plan to start anew with this number, work hard in life like Sister Nuo’er in the book, and become a writer!?
Just as I accepted the friend request, “Final Dream” sent two long messages in quick succession.
Lingering in the air, Lu Xinjian cleared his throat, “Do you want me to help you check? I can organize the information for you later.”
“Uh, sure, thank you.”
While talking, inside the slightly swaying car, I extended my small hand, opened the chat window with “Final Dream,” and quickly typed on my phone screen:
?Keep it up!?
“…”
…
TL Notes:
[1]?
Three Pits Girl “????” (s?n k? n? shào) refers to three different types of fashion:
?? (hànfú): traditional Chinese clothing, often associated with the Han dynasty.
JK?? (j?k? zhìfú): Japanese school uniform, often associated with schoolgirls.
??? (luól?t?): Japanese lolita fashion, characterized by its sweet and innocent appearance.?