The Abusive Novel System Pleads with Me to Resign-Chapter 77

Chang Ming meticulously counted the call records on both phones over and over, his obsessive scrutiny bordering on neurotic.

"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven."

"One, two, three, four, five, six—six."

Once absolutely certain he hadn’t misread, Chang Ming collapsed weakly to his knees.

The last call record on his own phone matched the sixth entry on his mother’s—identical in both dialing and call duration.

But the seventh call that should have been on his device had vanished without a trace.

His mother’s log, however, showed a seventh call—one that wasn’t brief.

So who had answered that call?

Why did you steal someone else’s call?

The thought exploded in Chang Ming’s mind, and he flinched as if scalded, violently shaking off the connection.

He couldn’t—wouldn’t—link such an unforgivable suspicion to Shi Shi.

Shen Ying must have been hinting at something else. She had to be. How could that woman possibly know about this?

Yet a voice inside him countered—

When she provoked you before, didn’t she seem to know everything, inexplicably?

Against his will, Chang Ming began piecing it together: Shen Ying’s text, Shi Shi’s terror, Jiang Liuxu’s reassurances.

Shi Shi had only warmed back to him after Jiang Liuxu’s intervention yesterday.

And though Jiang Liuxu’s words had been cryptic, their surface meaning was clear—

He’d promised to keep certain things Shi Shi feared from reaching Chang Ming’s ears.

What could Shi Shi be so desperate to hide from him?

Torn between cold, analytical logic and his unshakable love for her, Chang Ming writhed in torment all night.

The next morning at breakfast, he summoned the old family butler.

"Where are the recordings from my childhood birthdays?"

"All preserved meticulously, Young Master. Would you like to view them?"

Chang Ming’s voice thickened. "Bring the one from my eighth year."

His two elder brothers exchanged glances, silently approving what they assumed was his decision to finally move forward.

Once the tape was in hand, Chang Ming hurriedly played it on a television.

He fast-forwarded straight to the final minutes.

The screen showed his eight-year-old self seated center-frame, a birthday crown atop his head, phone pressed to his ear.

Despite the lavish celebration, despite the crowd of friends cheering for him—

The child onscreen had red-rimmed eyes, lips trembling on the verge of tears.

Finally, he gave a reluctant nod, as if grudgingly accepting some terms from the other end.

But his misery was palpable—to everyone present, and surely to the caller.

True enough, the moment the call ended, little Chang Ming hurled the phone away.

He threw a tantrum, oblivious to the stunned guests.

Chang Ming paused the playback. Both the timestamp on the recording and the wall clock in the footage matched—

It was precisely when the sixth call had ended.

For years, Chang Ming had believed his childishness killed his parents.

Even after conceding they didn’t need to return, he’d berated himself: Why couldn’t you act more mature? Why sound so resentful? Why force Mom to call six times to explain?

His petulance, he was certain, had gnawed at her conscience—compelling her to brave the storm that claimed their lives.

But now, this missing seventh call threatened to unravel over a decade of guilt.

The endless self-flagellation might have included… other reasons.

Chang Ming couldn’t define what he felt—a suffocating mix of desperate hope, dread of upending his reality, and vertigo at the thought of wasted suffering.

He wasn’t sure he could face the truth. Clamping down on runaway thoughts, he refused to speculate without evidence.

Resuming playback, he watched as his outburst cast a pall over the party.

With the mood ruined, the recording had only seconds left.

Yet Chang Ming scrutinized each frame, scanning every face in the room—

Until his gaze locked onto Shi Shi.

In the footage, Shi Shi stood far from him. Though they’d interacted by then, she hadn’t yet become that special among his friends.

Then he noticed it: the instant he relented to his parents, Shi Shi’s face flickered with unmistakable shock—

As if his compliance was somehow inconceivable.

Why?

Chang Ming frowned. No one else had reacted. What child’s capitulation could warrant such astonishment?

Yet Shi Shi’s expression lingered until he threw the phone.

His eyes tracked her mercilessly. In the recording’s final split-second, her focus landed somewhere specific—

Where the discarded phone had skidded.

The last frame froze with all attention on him.

Except Shi Shi’s.

Chang Ming’s breath turned jagged. He still didn’t dare think further.

Bolting up, he called the butler back, sealing his old phone in a plastic bag.

"Have this analyzed for fingerprints. Fast."

Without question, the butler set to work.

While waiting, Chang Ming replayed the clip obsessively.

Finally, he caved and called Pei Ying.

Straight to the point: "You remember my eighth birthday? The year my parents—that year."

"You brought Shi Shi. She never left your sight, right?"

Pei Ying had zero interest in hearing about Yu Shishi now, but Chang Ming’s urgency—and the context—stopped him from hanging up.

"Don’t recall details, but broadly, yes."

How could anyone forget? The party hadn’t even dispersed before news of the deaths arrived.

After deliberation, Pei Ying answered carefully:

"I was with her most of the time, but she might’ve slipped away briefly. Bathroom breaks, for instance."

Chang Ming pressed, "When did she go?"

Pei Ying scoffed, "How would I remember that?"

Chang Ming rephrased: "You recall me throwing the phone?"

A dry chuckle. "Who could forget? The whole room wanted to vanish."

"After that, did Shi Shi leave your side?"

Sensing gravity in the question, Pei Ying—despite his current loathing for Yu Shishi—dug deep into memory.

At last, he confirmed:

"Yes. After your tantrum, things got chaotic. I told her to stay put so she wouldn’t get jostled."

"But she suddenly asked for the bathroom. Your staff was scrambling, so I just grabbed a maid to escort her."

"But she refused, asking the maid to take care of you instead."

In reality, given the Chang family's resources, someone was already tending to the young master, while the rest of the staff were assigned to manage the guests. There was no reason for everyone to crowd around him.

Yet, at that time, Yu Shishi stubbornly dismissed the maid and disappeared alone for a few minutes.

Chang Ming heard his own voice, distant and detached: "Alright, thank you for your trouble."

He hung up Pei Ying's call and immediately dialed the head maid.

He asked, "During my eighth birthday banquet, who picked up the phone I threw away that night?"

The head maid replied, "Why are you suddenly asking about this?"

Chang Ming raised his voice, "Just tell me, quickly."

Startled by his urgency, the head maid hurriedly answered, "I was the one who found it."

That night held significant weight in the memories of the Chang family.

So the head maid recalled many details.

Chang Ming pressed, "Where did you find the phone?"

The head maid said, "Under the sofa. I remember my arm was too thick to reach, so I had to ask someone else for help."

Chang Ming asked, "Which side of the sofa?"

The head maid hesitated, "I don’t really remember that."

Chang Ming choked back his frustration, pacing anxiously before his eyes landed on the massive birthday cake in the video.

He cut straight to the point, "I remember when the news of my parents' car accident came, the cake was knocked over. Was the sofa where you found the phone on the side where the cake fell?"

The head maid quickly confirmed, "Ah, yes, yes! It was on that side. If not for cleaning up the cake, we wouldn’t have noticed the phone so soon."

Chang Ming closed his eyes in despair. In the video, the cake was still intact, but it would soon topple toward the direction where Shi Shi and the others were seated.

If someone had indeed answered the seventh call, deleted the record, and thrown the phone under the sofa, it had to be someone who was close to that sofa and could act discreetly without drawing attention.

Just then, the butler sent him the forensic results.

Chang Ming opened the image, and the words on it made his vision swim.

Aside from his and his brothers' fingerprints, Yu Shishi's were unmistakably present.

The household staff always wore gloves when handling tasks, and he hadn’t touched that phone since his parents' accident—it had been locked away in a dusty drawer.

The guilt of his parents' death was too much to bear.

Even standing in places where he’d once acted spoiled filled him with pain, so they moved out shortly after the funeral.

He only grew close to Shi Shi afterward. How could she have had any opportunity to touch that phone?

Chang Ming’s heart felt like it was being crushed, suffocating him.

He recalled his earlier accusation against Pei Ying.

What had he said? "Even a stone would soften after over a decade."

The thought made him burst into wild laughter—

"Hahahahahaha…"

Tears streamed down his face as he laughed.

What if the hands that softened the stone were the very ones that destroyed his life?

Bitter irony and hatred carved into his heart, his reddened eyes taking on a feverish glint.

Chang Ming made one last call, this time to Shen Ying.

Hoarsely, he asked, "Was the message you sent to your sister accusing her of secretly answering my parents' call?"

Shen Ying didn’t feign ignorance. "Shouldn’t you ask her directly?"

"Secondhand accounts can lead to misunderstandings—even accidents."

"Because the messenger might interpret, emphasize, or even distort the truth."

Chang Ming sensed the implication in those words and didn’t press further.

Instead, he said sincerely, "Regardless, thank you."

"Thank you for pointing me toward the truth."

After hanging up, Chang Ming wiped his tears, composed himself, and returned to his parents' room to continue sorting their belongings, showing no outward signs of distress.

The following days passed the same way, as if nothing had happened.

The three brothers finished organizing the remnants of their parents' lives, packing away countless items for a charity auction planned after the memorial.

The anniversary of their passing was observed quietly. The brothers spent a long time at the gravesite, shared a meal, and then parted ways.

Once his brothers were gone, Chang Ming took out his phone and called Yu Shishi.

He invited her to his private villa.

Though he usually lived at home, as a creative, he often craved solitude in remote places.

So he owned several properties like this.

When Yu Shishi arrived at the meeting point, Chang Ming drove her to one of his mountain villas.

The place was completely secluded. After settling in, he began brewing coffee with a bag of fresh beans.

Yu Shishi sat at the bar, chatting idly with him.

Her spirits were still low. Pei Ying had outright rejected her, but she clung to Chang Ming as her lifeline, refusing to let go.

Uncertain whether Pei Ying would stoop to pursuing her further, she lived in constant anxiety.

With a hint of complaint, she asked, "Why haven’t you called me these past few days?"

Chang Ming smiled, his gaze unsettlingly magnetic. "I didn’t dare."

"Because if I heard your voice, I wouldn’t be able to focus on anything—not even sorting my parents' belongings. I’d drop everything and rush to your side."

Yu Shishi didn’t grasp the true meaning behind his words. She blinked, taken aback.

Chang Ming seemed to have matured overnight, exuding a mysterious allure she’d never seen in him before—not in this life or the last.

Her cheeks warmed, her voice softening. "But your parents' affairs should come first."

"By the way, I heard you’re holding a charity auction soon. Did you invite Pei Ying and my sister?"

Chang ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌‍Ming ground the coffee beans as he replied, "Yes. My second brother personally delivered Pei Ying’s invitation."

Yu Shishi’s face fell. "Oh. Then I won’t attend."

Chang Ming chuckled. "It’s fine. This auction isn’t something you need to be at."

Yu Shishi pouted. "Why not? It’s for a good cause in your parents' name. I’d like to go."

But she knew she couldn’t show her face, so she only dared to grumble to Chang Ming.

Would she have to avoid every Chang family event just because of Pei Ying and her sister?

Chang Ming, however, seemed oblivious to her frustration.

He asked, "How have you been feeling lately?"

Yu Shishi nodded. "Okay, I guess. Pei Ying’s still pressuring me, but don’t worry about me. Today’s your parents' memorial. You shouldn’t have to tend to me."

Chang Ming murmured, "So you do remember it’s their memorial."

Then, as if making small talk, he added, "Has Pei Ying or your sister reached out to you?"

Yu Shishi shook her head. "No. Why would they?"

"I wouldn’t humiliate myself by contacting them either."

Chang Ming asked, "What about your uncle? Is he still bothering you?"

Yu Shishi replied, "No, he was sent away long ago."

At least Pei Ying hadn’t dredged up old wounds to torment her.

Chang Ming’s expression eased, making Yu Shishi feel his questions stemmed from genuine concern.

The warmth of his attention melted her tension, and she relaxed completely.

The rich aroma of coffee filled the room as Chang Ming continued preparing it.

"Then why did you secretly answer my parents' call to me?" she asked absently.