She's a Passerby, But Can See the Protagonist's Halo-Chapter 87

Chu Bingbing's announcement quickly received responses, though coordinating a day that worked for everyone proved difficult.

Especially now, during the freezing winter break, Ye Ping'an replied with complete honesty: "I'd love to go, but it's just too cold right now."

This was the truth. Even with the private VIP pass, which spared them from rushing like regular visitors for the six-hour experience, the idea still felt daunting.

Moreover, the guys in the dorm were a little embarrassed about freeloading off this opportunity.

Going to an amusement park wasn't the same as attending a comic convention. The VIP private guest package at Ning City's Global Paradise cost five thousand yuan per person. Tagging along on a friend's girlfriend's friend's invitation—even if they were invited—felt like overstepping.

After all, they weren't close. They were just university classmates who had known each other for half a year. It was clear Chu Bingbing was wealthy, but that didn’t make it any easier to accept her generosity without guilt.

In the northern winter, even with the sun hanging in the sky, its light was like the bulb in a refrigerator—providing illumination but no warmth.

As the Lunar New Year approached, the weather grew even colder. Yan and Zhu Jue bundled up in hats, scarves, gloves, down jackets, and thick boots before stepping outside. The added layers felt like carrying several extra pounds of weight. With a backpack on, it was practically a winter urban march.

Amusement parks were massive, and covering all the zones in a day meant walking at least ten thousand steps. Just thinking about it was exhausting.

The group amusement park plan was temporarily shelved.

On the night of the 25th day of the twelfth lunar month, Ning City was blanketed in snow.

When Yan and Zhu Jue woke up the next morning, they saw Chu Shen’s excited messages in the group chat.

[Chu Shen]: It's snowing! It's snowing!!! [video.mp4]

[Chu Shen]: What time are we heading to the Forbidden City today?

[Chu Shen]: The snow’s been cleared at the hotel entrance.

[Chu Shen]: It’s supposed to keep snowing today—should we bring umbrellas?

[Yan]: We don’t usually use umbrellas for snow. If you're up, we’ll get ready and leave soon—we’ll go to the Forbidden City in the morning.

[Zhu Jue]: It’ll be colder with the snow melting, and we’ll be outside all day. @Chu Shen, dress warmly.

Chu Shen instantly replied with a "Roger that" sticker—a little yellow bean head saluting.

Yi Zhi was stuck at some research base in the Ning City suburbs with his advisor and wouldn’t be free until the 28th. Chu Bingbing was also busy today, so the trip to the Forbidden City fell to Yan, Zhu Jue, and Xiao Qingnang—once again tasked with guiding Chu Shen.

They met Xiao Qingnang at the subway station and noticed he was carrying a backpack.

Not wanting the extra weight, and with their down jacket pockets roomy enough, Yan and Zhu Jue—along with Chu Shen—had opted to go bag-free, stuffing their phones and power banks into their coats.

"Xiao, what did you bring?" Yan asked, eyeing the bag. Chu Shen reached over and lifted it.

"Whoa, this is heavy."

"Just some warm herbal soup. It’s not that bad," Xiao Qingnang said dismissively.

"That’s not ‘just some,’" Chu Shen muttered.

After passing through multiple security checks and entering through the Meridian Gate, they found the crowds surprisingly thin—likely due to the approaching New Year. Arriving early also helped, so instead of jostling through masses of people, they were met with breathtaking scenery.

Chu Shen’s eyes darted left and right, unable to take in enough of the view.

Golden glazed tiles layered with pristine snow, deep crimson walls creating a striking visual contrast.

The sky was a brilliant blue, the red walls and white snow framing the pine branches weighed down by frost. Everywhere they stepped—the carved white marble stairs, the pathways—bore traces of snow.

The towering palace complex was majestic, vast, solemn, and ancient—words couldn’t fully capture the awe it inspired.

Yan, too, found herself reluctant to blink. Locals often avoided tourist spots, but every winter when it snowed, if she and Zhu Jue could snag tickets, they’d come.

With snow covering it, the centuries-old palace seemed to transport them back in time.

And if you looked closely—every small detail, from a water vat to a corner of the eaves, was its own kind of beauty.

The frozen moat, the snow-covered alleyways devoid of people—Yan, dressed in her white down jacket, stood against the deep red palace walls, the blue sky and golden rooftops framing her perfectly. A random snapshot would look like a professional photo.

Chu Shen ran his hands over the Nine-Dragon Wall, his fingers numb from the cold, then called for Xiao Qingnang to take his picture.

Once Xiao finished, Chu Shen immediately handed his phone to Zhu Jue. "Jue, you take over. Xiao’s skills are worse than mine—way too ‘straight guy’ photography."

"At first glance, the photo looks fine—blue sky, red walls, snow, and a person, all the elements are there. But it’s so rigid. The bottom is snow, the top is sky, and I look like a midget."

As Chu Shen complained, Yan stifled a laugh while Xiao Qingnang sighed.

"I thought it looked fine. You blend into the scenery."

He had tried hard, adjusting the angle to fit everything in.

"Man, you should be glad it’s me in the photo. If this were your future girlfriend, this kind of skill would earn you a beating."

"Definitely on par with those infamous ‘boyfriend fails’ online."

Chu Shen struck another pose, this time pulling a small photo frame from his pocket and holding it up with a grin.

Yan and Zhu Jue snapped pictures from different angles—some of him alone, others with the frame.

Once the three entered the Treasure Gallery, Chu Shen happily scrolled through the photos taken by the couple.

With all four phones laid out, the difference between Xiao Qingnang’s shots and the others was glaring.

Even Xiao had to admit it.

His photos had somehow made the 6-foot-tall Chu Shen look a full 8 inches shorter.

Zhu Jue patted his shoulder. "Don’t worry, you take great photos of Pengpeng."

"Jue, your skills are insane. You could be a professional photographer for clothing brands—better than some people with actual cameras."

The unedited shots on the phone included not just Chu Shen’s but also Yan’s—vibrant colors, perfect lighting, and well-timed captures, all stunning.

"Years of practice," Zhu Jue said with a smile.

"Hmph." Yan sniffed, her face smug.

"All thanks to my relentless training."

After years of her nitpicking, of course Zhu Jue could photograph anything flawlessly.

Chu Shen dramatically bowed. "Then I thank Lady Yan for whipping Zhu Jue into shape, granting me the best photos of my life."

Xiao Qingnang chuckled at their antics but grew thoughtful as he glanced at his own photos.

Compared to the main areas, the Treasure Gallery and Clock Gallery—requiring separate tickets—were less crowded. Yan listened to Chu Shen’s constant exclamations of "Wow," "No way," and "So beautiful" as he snapped pictures nonstop.

Thinking back, it had been over half a year since she and Zhu Jue last visited the Forbidden City after moving to Bin City for university.

Some exhibits rotated, and now, in the Treasure Gallery, Yan and Xiao Qingnang both paused near two particular displays.

A breathtaking ceremonial headdress adorned with kingfisher feathers.

A gold hairpin inlaid with pearls and gemstones.

In the past, Yan had always held her breath before these pieces, afraid to disturb their exquisite beauty.

But this time, she felt something different.

The display boards beneath the exhibits noted their age and the identified owners from archaeological findings.

Zhou Dynasty, Princess Jianing.

These were once items worn by Suisui.

Back then, what kind of robes had she adorned, what makeup had she worn, and how had she looked when bedecked in these priceless treasures?

Yan tilted her head slightly, picturing Gu Jiasui’s face, watching as the ceremonial crown and gem-studded hairpin before her seemed to merge with the image of the princess.

It was as though she could glimpse, across the span of centuries, the once-regal and peerlessly elegant princess.

Lost in thought, Yan didn’t notice Xiao Qingnang’s prolonged gaze—until another visitor behind them spoke up impatiently, “Are you two done looking?”

Xiao Qingnang stepped back with an apologetic “Excuse us,” and Yan quickly withdrew as well.

On previous visits to the Forbidden City, she had wondered about the lives of those who once walked these grounds—were they anything like the dramas depicted on TV?

This chapter is updat𝙚d by freeweɓnovel.cøm.

But now, knowing that someone close to her had once been a princess, the feeling was entirely different.

The four of them caught up with a volunteer-guided tour in two of the exhibition halls before rushing to the Clock Gallery by 10:40 to secure spots for the day’s performance.

By the time the show ended, it was already past eleven.

Yan checked the digital guide on her phone. Due to preservation efforts and staffing limitations, only certain sections of the palace were open to the public.

“Where next? The Imperial Garden? I heard online that it’s tiny,” Chu Shen mused, his enthusiasm undiminished after visiting the two exhibitions.

“Feels like we’re just skimming the surface, barely scratching the open areas,” he remarked.

“One trip to Ning City isn’t enough to see much of anything.”

They walked beneath towering walls, passing through layer upon layer of palace gates.

When they finally reached the Imperial Garden, Chu Shen’s excitement deflated.

“It really is small. TV shows always make it seem like concubines schemed and hid here, but it’s just this cramped? And not even everyone could stroll here freely.”

“What a stifling life. Imagine being confined to one palace with barely any scenery. Reminds me of that line from a drama—spending a lifetime counting bricks and steps,” he sighed.

“Thank goodness we’re modern folks.”

His sentiment earned unanimous nods from the other three.

The palace was vast, yet suffocatingly small.

Thousands of rooms, countless lives trapped within.

Yan managed to snag afternoon tea at the Forbidden City’s eastern courtyard, conveniently near the Imperial Garden—a chance to warm up and recharge.

Petit cakes, red bean soup, concubine’s delight—and Xiao Qingnang even brought his own warming tonic, which left them glowing like little furnaces.

As she nibbled on sweets, Yan noticed Chu Shen’s faint frown, as if the flavors didn’t quite meet his expectations.

While she sipped the steaming red bean soup, he seemed to be meticulously dissecting each mouthful.

Zhu Jue, meanwhile, glanced at his phone, surprised by a private message from Xiao Qingnang sitting right across from him.

The request was unexpected.

[Xiao Qingnang]: Zhu Jue, got time to teach me photography later?

[Zhu Jue]: Of course.

The exchange was silent. Zhu Jue then accepted the half-finished bowl of red bean soup Yan pushed toward him and polished it off.

The warmth and satisfaction of the treats lingered, and after a long, cozy break, the four resumed their tour.

To stay ahead of the crowds, Yan’s group had prioritized the Nine-Dragon Wall and the Treasure Gallery earlier, skipping some palaces. Today’s itinerary was flexible—just accompanying Chu Shen and his grandparents for a fulfilling visit.

By noon, the crowds thickened, but Yan wasn’t worried about losing anyone. She and Zhu Jue held hands inside their down jacket pockets, while Xiao Qingnang and Chu Shen stood out like beacons.

Wait—

Hold on.

Three beacons?

Yan rubbed her eyes. No mistake—there were indeed three.

Not a new one, but one she knew all too well—the glow of a dress-up game.

It was Yuan Ye!

She squeezed Zhu Jue’s fingers and whispered, “Yuan Ye’s here.”

Her gaze flicked ahead.

The snow-dusted Forbidden City never lacked photo-taking tourists.

Though commercial photography and reflectors were banned, many visitors rented elaborate costumes—fur-lined cloaks, embroidered capes—with painstaking makeup, braving the cold for the perfect shot.

Right now, Yuan Ye stood out as the most meticulously styled of them all.

A deep indigo cloak with a fur collar draped over his shoulders, one hand resting on the white marble railing, his expression icy as he tilted his chin slightly, surveying the crowd below with disdain.

Honestly, if not for the telltale glow, Yan wouldn’t have recognized him at all.

She couldn’t help but grumble inwardly—Yuan Ye never mentioned he’d be in Ning City!

“Mom, that lady in blue is so pretty! Is she from a drama?” A little girl in a fur-lined coat, clutching a fake candied hawthorn stick, pointed excitedly at Yuan Ye.

This section of the palace wasn’t a hotspot, yet it had drawn a small crowd of photographers.

Most wore red, white, or gold costumes, making Yuan Ye’s indigo ensemble—and his frosty demeanor—stand out starkly. If not for the modern-day tourists milling about, he could’ve passed for a high-ranking consort straight out of a period drama.

Yan exchanged a glance with Zhu Jue. The question was—should they acknowledge him or not?

She suspected Yuan Ye might’ve been roped into this unwillingly, but with Xiao Qingnang and Chu Shen around, things were complicated.

Before ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‍they could decide, Chu Shen, oblivious, started climbing the steps toward Yuan Ye. Yan and Zhu Jue had no choice but to follow.

At the top, Yan locked eyes with Yuan Ye—and in that split second, she caught the flicker of panic in his expression.

She was absolutely certain he’d noticed all four of them approaching.

Chu Shen wandered into the hall. When he returned, he found the other three lingering by the marble railing, seemingly in conversation with the striking “noblewoman” in ancient attire.

As he approached, he noticed the “beauty” looking somewhat distraught—especially when facing Xiao Qingnang.

Worried there might be trouble, Chu Shen quickened his pace.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing. Let’s move on if you’re done here,” Yan said smoothly.

She was just as surprised—Xiao Qingnang had recognized Yuan Ye instantly.

Earlier, while Chu Shen was inside, Xiao Qingnang had walked straight up to Yuan Ye, paused, and asked quietly,

“When did you arrive?”

Yuan Ye had frozen, shooting accusatory glances at Yan and Zhu Jue, suspecting they’d spilled the beans.

But no—Xiao Qingnang had simply remarked that while Yuan Ye’s makeup was impeccable, it couldn’t disguise his bone structure.

Yan and Zhu Jue were floored. What kind of eyes did Xiao Qingnang have? Could doctors really see through appearances like that?

Chu Shen studied the “noblewoman” suspiciously. Why did it feel like she was avoiding his gaze? And why did it seem like the other three were hiding something from him?

“Alright, let’s go,” he said.

As they turned to leave, the “noblewoman” waved goodbye.

Wait—those hands looked familiar.

In a flash of realization, something clicked in Chu Shen's mind.

He immediately turned around, his face lighting up with sudden understanding. "Brother Yuan? Is that you?"

Then, his gaze shifted to the other three, his expression tinged with heartbreak and disappointment.

"You all knew? Keeping secrets from me now?"

Yuan Ye: !

Yan, Zhu Jue, and Xiao Qingnang: !!!

How the hell did you recognize him?!

Yuan Ye's heart sank like a stone.

Just kill him now.

Goodbye, cruel world—he was ready to set sail into the void.

Ever since winter break started, his dress-up game system had rolled out a "costume travel" feature, forcing him to wear specific outfits and check in at designated city landmarks.

He’d only arrived in Ning City last night, where two tasks popped up:

One was to wear ancient robes for a showdown in the Forbidden City.

The other was to dress as a hanged ghost for a showdown on Jingshan Hill.

When Yuan Ye saw the words "Jingshan Hill" and "hanged ghost" side by side, his brain short-circuited.

Seriously? Go to Jingshan Hill and pretend to be a hanged ghost? What, was he supposed to duel the last emperor? This game system had officially lost it.

But now, under the weight of countless stares drilling into him from all directions—

"A guy?"

"No way. Looks like a cross-dressing legend."

He wanted to die.

Badly.

In hindsight, maybe playing hanged ghost on Jingshan Hill would’ve been the better option.