Although Su Wanli usually spent plenty of time online, it was clear that her memory still left much to be desired.
In reality, the question Meng Wange had posed to her was a classic psychological test that had circulated widely on the internet: The desert cube personality test.
The cube itself represented the test-taker’s subconscious, while the distance between the person and the cube symbolized their level of self-awareness.
Meng Wange pressed her lips together and held up the colorful paper Su Wanli had drawn on, then carefully pinned it to the wall.
Of course, she wasn’t naïve enough to believe that a simple psychological test could fully reveal Su Wanli’s true nature.
But it could at least help answer a few of her questions.
—Such as: [what kind of person was this so-called delinquent young lady, who was always described by others as idle and self-indulgent?]
[Was her arrogance and aggression truly part of her nature, or merely a defensive façade?]
Meng Wange recalled the very moment Su Wanli saw the question.
Her brows had arched slightly, and her fingers had rested lightly against her lips.
If that reaction wasn’t part of a deliberate act, then it meant she had been confused and uncertain.
In other words, Su Wanli likely had no prior knowledge of the test, which meant the results should hold some genuine value.
Meng Wange circled the cube Su Wanli had drawn and roughly measured its size.
—The size of the cube represented how the person evaluated themselves, while the material and transparency of the cube reflected their emotional defenses and social openness.
So, a relatively small cube made of water?
This result suggested that the test-taker didn’t have a high opinion of herself.
Her emotional defenses were weak, she was easily trusting of others, and her self-perception was unclear.
Now that was interesting.
From this perspective, Su Wanli might actually be someone lacking in confidence—perhaps even a little insecure.
Setting that observation aside for now, Meng Wange shifted her attention to the ladder Su Wanli had drawn, stretching from the bottom of the page all the way into the cube.
The ladder symbolized the test-taker’s friends and social relationships.
The black, delicate lines, as well as the small storm passing through the ladder, indicated that the test-taker not only had few friends but also didn’t particularly enjoy socializing.
And the fact that the storm touched the ladder slightly? That implied some subtle, unspoken pressure Su Wanli felt when communicating with others.
Unconsciously, Meng Wange’s lips curled into a faint smile.
Mildly insecure, socially anxious, and not fond of communication.
If that were the case, then Su Wanli’s unpleasant demeanor might very well be just a mask.
Still, she couldn’t make a definitive judgment so easily.
After all, the reliability of a psychological test could vary depending on the subject’s mood at the time.
If Su Wanli had been in an unusual mental state during the test, the results would lose much of their value.
However, the mere possibility that “Su Wanli’s true nature isn’t malicious” was enough.
Given time, Meng Wange would have plenty of opportunities and methods to confirm it for herself.
She let out a quiet breath and grasped the corner of the drawing, preparing to take it down.
But her eyes couldn’t help drifting toward the horse in the picture—and the countless blooming flowers dotting the hills.
***
…If the goal had only been to judge Su Wanli’s personality, the earlier symbols would have sufficed.
As for these last two images, Meng Wange wasn’t entirely convinced of their meaning herself.
The horse, in a sense, symbolized the test-taker’s ideal partner.
Judging from what Su Wanli had drawn, she seemed to be hoping for a partner who was delicate in appearance, obedient in temperament, and always by her side.
And the heavy-looking saddle on the horse’s back? That suggested Su Wanli had a strong desire to control her partner.
As for the flowers—as previously mentioned—they symbolized children.
Of course it wasn’t all that accurate.
If it were, that would mean Su Wanli was someone who hoped to have a lot of children in the future.
Meng Wange couldn’t help but smile at the image that popped into her head—Su Wanli, sitting irritably in her princess-themed bedroom, eyebrows furrowed, surrounded by a bunch of babies.
She looked like she wanted to scream but had no choice but to endure it.
It was completely unrealistic, but if such a scene ever did happen, Meng Wange admitted she’d be kind of curious to see it.
Shaking her head to clear away the chaotic thoughts, Meng Wange let out a quiet yawn and finally put away the test.
She shoved the paper back into her backpack, then pulled out a fresh sheet and sat down at her desk.
Now, it was time to get to work.
Considering the difficulty of the entrance test and the average level of Su Wanli’s class, if she wanted to bring her scores up to mid-tier, then at the very least…
As she thought about it, a faint sense of melancholy crept into Meng Wange’s expression.
Honestly, she had expected Su Wanli to ask her for help cheating the moment she heard Su Heng’s condition.
If she had, Meng Wange wouldn’t have refused. She’d simply ask for the return of her mother’s hairpin in exchange for the favor.
Unfortunately, Su Wanli didn’t seem to have the slightest intention of doing so.
‘…So does that make me the more underhanded one for even having such a thought?’
Meng Wange sighed softly, the corners of her mouth lifting into a bitter smile.
‘Calm down, Meng Wange. You didn’t come to the Su family just to sit around daydreaming and enjoying the good life.’
She gently tapped her forehead with her pencil, then pulled out the entrance exam papers from previous years and began preparing for the night’s work.
***
“…Right, the system.”
Seated in a luxurious gaming chair in the entertainment room, Su Wanli snapped out of her daze and tapped her forehead.
She tossed the game controller onto the desk.
[What is it, Host? Any and all suggestions will be recorded and truthfully reported to upper management.]
“…I’ve got a lot of things I’d like to complain about, but that’s not the point. I just suddenly remembered something.”
She reached out and tapped her left middle finger with the index finger of her right hand.
“Su Heng’s condition for letting me attend that dinner party was just that I place in the middle of the class?”
[Correct.]
“And Meng Wange was the top scorer in the national exams?”
[Naturally.]
“Then here’s the question,” Su Wanli said, pointing toward the direction of Meng Wange’s room.
“Why didn’t I just ask her to help me cheat? I could’ve passed her a note or something during the test. With my family background, even if the teacher found out, they’d probably turn a blind eye…”
[Of course you could’ve. In fact, that would have been the most logical reaction.]
“Hah… then why didn’t you remind me earlier? Let me guess—it’s because of that ‘please roleplay the villainess however you see fit’ nonsense, right?”
She clicked her tongue in annoyance.
It was the system’s fault.
All that emphasis on acting like a cold, elegant villainess had completely distracted her from the obvious move.
Now that she hadn’t brought it up immediately, it was probably too late to ask for Meng Wange’s help.
‘Do I really have to go back and start studying high school textbooks from scratch?’
If she embarrassed herself in front of Meng Wange tomorrow…
…
Just thinking about it made Su Wanli grit her teeth.
“System, get me some math textbooks! I can’t let Meng Wange look down on me!”