Chapter 40: You’re Not Seriously Trying to Woo Me, Are You? This Isn’t Funny  

The elderly doctor removed the breathing mask, and Yinlin tried breathing on her own. 

Each breath brought pain, but she could manage.  

The doctor gave some precautions.  

Jinluan reentered, asking about Yinlin’s condition again.  

The gray-haired doctor seemed familiar with Jinluan, unfazed by her magical girl identity.  

Jinluan even shared details of Yinlin’s ambush with him.  

The doctor casually dropped magical girl jargon—mana, shields, magic resistance—like it was nothing.  

On magic resistance, Diamond chimed in.  

Yinlin’s magic defense was exceptionally high, almost freakish.  

Her shield was rock-solid, a turtle-shell fortress anyone who’d seen her fight knew well.  

Plus, the magical girl uniform offered minor physical defense and major magical defense.  

With this triple-layered protection, Yinlin still got critically injured by one shot.  

If Jinluan or Huanhong had been hit, they’d be vaporized.  

This was bizarre.  

Recalling Yinlin’s account, she sensed the incoming magic only two seconds before the strike, missing any charging phase.  

A sniper shot that powerful couldn’t charge instantly.  

The attacker used some stealth technique.  

They’d camped at a fixed spot, gathered mana, and charged up.  

Whatever method they used, it cloaked their presence—Yinlin’s keen senses didn’t catch it.  

Only when the shot fired did she detect the massive mana surge.  

Such meticulous planning was beyond low- or mid-level demons.  

Yinlin overheard Jinluan’s analysis. 

Was it okay to share this with regular humans?  

Yet the doctor and nurse acted like this intel was routine.  

The doctor explained Yinlin’s injuries in layman’s terms: like being hit by a speeding car while suffering mild poisoning.  

Translated: severe physical damage with minor magical damage.  

The physical part was treated as best they could.  

The magical damage? 

That was up to the magical girls.  

Once the doctor left, Yinlin asked for Diamond’s phone, hanging around its neck.  

She checked the time—already the next evening.  

“Still on your phone in this state?” Jinluan’s voice rose.  

“I need to… let friends know I’m okay,” Yinlin caught herself mid-sentence, avoiding “ask for leave.”  

Jinluan: “Where’s your phone?”  

Yinlin: “I nearly died. Think my phone’s magic defense is better than mine?”  

Using Diamond’s phone, she tried logging into WeChat but needed phone verification.  

Calling Huang Yijun as Yinlin was awkward.  

She used her private email instead, messaging Huang Yijun that she’d fallen down stairs, got stitches, and needed a few days off work.  

Huang Yijun replied quickly, concerned, asking why her phone was off and how bad it was.  

Qian Dehao soon emailed too, checking in.  

They mentioned the office was chaotic—workaholic Song Wuli’s absence sparked uproar.  

Even the supervisor and manager noticed, assuming Song Wuli faced a major crisis to skip work unannounced.  

They’d already filed for personal leave on his behalf.  

Huang Yijun asked which hospital, wanting to visit.  

Yinlin’s heart warmed, grinning through the pain, replying to their emails.  

No need to visit—just don’t bury me in work.  

After chatting, she realized a phone was crucial. 

She ordered one online.  

Setting the phone down, she noticed only Diamond was in the room—Jinluan was gone.  

“Where’s my wand?” she asked, tense.  

Diamond pointed to the bedside.  

Her double-handed staff stood there, post-transformation.  

Relief washed over her.  

“Sorry, Diamond, I promised to hang out,” she apologized suddenly.  

“When you’re better, we can…”  

“No! That’s a classic death flag!” Yinlin cut in, joking despite her state. “Healthy or not, I’ll take you out in a few days.”  

“Yin, you still want to go out? You nearly died. If you weren’t in your uniform, if your shield wasn’t up, if your magic defense was any lower—any one of those missing, you’d be dead.”  

Diamond’s words showed concern, but its tone was flat, almost robotic.  

A touch of Kyubey vibes, but with more emotion.  

Yinlin: “Diamond, you said magical girls can’t run from battle. If one shot scares me, I’m not gonna be a shut-in for 10,000 years, right?”  

They bantered for half an hour.  

The door opened—Jinluan returned.  

She held three new phones, still in their boxes.  

“Didn’t know your favorite color,” Jinluan said, showing them off.  

Pink, silver, black.  

Yinlin was speechless—she’d already ordered a phone.  

A rich lady gifting phones?  

“Are these free, big sister?” she asked.  

Jinluan: “Free.”  

Yinlin teased: “Free’s the priciest. You’re not trying to woo me, are you?”  

Jinluan stared, unmoving.  

Yinlin’s grin froze.  

Jinluan’s expression was dead serious.  

Yinlin’s smile vanished.  

“I already bought a phone, don’t need these,” she said quickly.  

Jinluan: “Return it.”  

She tore open all three boxes, activating the phones.  

Intending to give all three to Yinlin, who refused in panic.  

After minutes of back-and-forth, Yinlin, sticking to her persona, took the silver one.  

She preferred black but felt “Yinlin” had to pick silver for consistency.  

Jinluan had even prepped a SIM card, slotting it in.  

“It’s in your name,” she said curtly.  

SIMs required ID and real-name registration.  

Dear old Song Wuli’s “Yao Ruoning” was a pure fabrication.  

How did Jinluan get a SIM for her?  

Noticing Yinlin’s confusion, Jinluan explained: “I know it’s a fake name. From today, it’s real.”  

A breezy sentence, solving a magical girl’s identity issue.  

Jinluan leaned over the phone, adding a new contact, typing in details.  

Watching her smiling profile, Yinlin was stunned.  

No! No! No! Jinluan wasn’t joking—she was *serious* about pursuing Yinlin!  

Holy crap, Old Song hadn’t found a girlfriend, but Yinlin, barely a week debuted, landed one?!