Zhao Qingyu glared at him coldly, her face barely hiding her anger.
For someone with her personality, being threatened was utterly intolerable.
Seeing her attitude shift so abruptly, Shen An met her furious stare without a hint of fear. Instead, he felt a smug satisfaction at having gained the upper hand.
It wasn’t that Shen An was truly so selfless, willing to sacrifice himself just to help Song Rui.
The real reason he made this demand of Zhao Qingyu stemmed from careful calculation.
There had to be something unusual behind her overly enthusiastic attitude toward him—and every boy she’d ever targeted seemed to come to a bad end.
Shen An had no desire to court trouble. If Zhao Qingyu refused, he could use it as an excuse to bow out of the Art Troupe and enjoy some peace and quiet.
But if she agreed—or even hesitated—it would send a clear message: he wasn’t some plaything she could manipulate at will.
When dealing with a fox like Zhao Qingyu, taking the initiative was the most important foundation for any interaction.
At the same time, it would polish his image a bit.
After all, who wouldn’t see a guy willing to give up his own benefits for a classmate as someone with real integrity?
In short, the proposal was a win-win for Shen An, no matter her response.
And there was one more hidden perk: success or failure, he’d earn Song Rui’s gratitude.
The moment Song Rui found out he’d gone to bat for her like this, she’d be deeply touched.
Zhao Qingyu was no fool—she was sharp as a tack.
The instant Shen An voiced his request, she picked up on it.
Yet under her scrutinizing, annoyed gaze, Shen An stayed perfectly calm.
He rose to his feet and gave a slight bow. “Sorry, Senior Sister Zhao. I’ve had to disappoint your kind intentions.”
With that, he turned on his heel sharply and decisively, showing no interest in bargaining or playing coy.
This only deepened the suspicions stirring in Zhao Qingyu’s mind.
Could he really be that upright?
Swallowing her irritation, she tapped lightly on the desk—a subtle signal to hold up. Shen An halted at just the right moment and glanced back at her.
“Senior Sister? Something else?”
Zhao Qingyu crossed her arms and said coolly, “You’re awfully decisive about this. You really won’t budge on letting her join the Art Troupe?”
Shen An put on a wry expression. “I know it’s a tough ask, but Song Rui really wants in. After her interview yesterday, she wouldn’t stop talking about it.”
“She kept saying what a great person you are for giving her a shot. I hate the thought of her face falling when her hopes crash.”
Hah…
Zhao Qingyu’s lips twitched. “Save the sob story for someone else. You know full well there’s a galaxy between wanting something and pulling it off.”
“I can’t promise she’ll hit your standards, Senior Sister,” Shen An said earnestly, “but I can promise she’ll pour her heart into whatever tasks you give her.”
“What if she’s not as dedicated as you think?” Zhao Qingyu shot back.
“Then I misread her, and I’ll own the consequences.” Shen An didn’t hesitate.
“Tsk~” Zhao Qingyu let out a soft chuckle, laced with what might have been approval—or faint mockery.
“Fine. I’ll let her through.”
She mulled it over for a moment before compromising.
But her sudden about-face didn’t bring Shen An any joy.
If anything, it only underscored how ambitious her schemes were.
To her, Song Rui was just a disposable pawn. Her real target was him, plain as day.
Still, he put on a grateful face in front of her. “Thank you, Senior Sister.”
“Don’t thank me just yet.”
Zhao Qingyu narrowed her eyes. “You owe me a favor now. And since I have no clue about Song Rui’s skills, your workload in the Art Troupe is going to be heavier to make up for it.”
“If you fall short of what I expect, you’d better watch your step.”
She flashed a teasing smirk. “Some rumors are fake… but others? They’re very real.”
“Got it?”
“Naturally. I’ll give it my all.”
Shen An grinned wide, baring a flash of white teeth in a disarmingly sunny smile.
“Be here tomorrow, same time.”
Zhao Qingyu stood up. “Final interview.”
“Got it.”
Shen An watched her retreating back, his smile fading bit by bit.
What a crafty fox.
Was this some unprovoked disaster?
He mulled it over, but then reconsidered. Maybe it was all part of the commission.
Just like grinding through a game’s main storyline quests—it was never just one simple task, but a whole chain unfolding.
This commission hadn’t come from Zhao Qingyu herself, yet here it was, pulling in all sorts of threads.
Gathering his thoughts, an image of Xu Yijing flickered in Shen An’s mind.
What exactly was the deal between Xu Yijing and Zhao Qingyu?
What bad blood simmered between them?
If he wanted to turn the tables, he’d need to dig into their history first.
Zhao Qingyu had been gone for a good while before Shen An finally left the classroom.
The endless line snaking down the corridor outside hadn’t budged an inch.
A few steps on, and there she was in her usual spot: Shen Lianyao, still perfectly visible.
She was turned to the side, gazing elsewhere, and Shen An had no plans to say hello. He strode right past, ignoring the strange looks from the people in line.
Up ahead, Wang Yuqiong was still waiting her turn.
Only a handful stood between her and the front now.
Shen An approached politely and tapped her shoulder.
Wang Yuqiong jumped a little, then turned. Spotting him, her face lit up with a radiant smile. “Re-interview over?”
“Yeah.”
Shen An exhaled in exaggerated relief.
“Judging by that look, it went great?” Wang Yuqiong teased with a grin.
“Not bad. But I’ve got to come back tomorrow for the final one.”
“Oh? Like that, huh.” Wang Yuqiong’s eyes danced as she leaned in close and whispered, “Mind telling me—was it Senior Sister Zhao who interviewed you?”
“How’d you guess?” Shen An asked, feigning shock.
“I saw Senior Sister Zhao heading that way just now. Figured it had to be her.”
Her hunch confirmed, Wang Yuqiong’s bright smile took on a shade of complexity. “Knew it. Senior Sister Zhao’s got an eye for talent.”
Shen An blinked, then softened his tone. “Yours is sharper.”
“Oh?”
“Even before she interviewed me, you were already sold on me getting in. Doesn’t that make your judgment the best?” Shen An joked.
Wang Yuqiong stifled a giggle and leaned in again. “Just… be careful, okay?”
Shen An kept smiling, but his guard went up. “Why do you say that?”
“Art Troupe cadres only pull freshmen for solo interviews if they’re really impressed.”
“But Senior Sister Zhao? She almost never does them with newbies. You’re the first, I bet.”
“Her… style, though…”
Wang Yuqiong let the words hang, her evasive glance filling in the blanks for Shen An.
“No sweat. She seems nice enough.”
“That’s the best outcome. Fingers crossed we end up working together.” Wang Yuqiong’s voice turned gentle.
Shen An nodded faintly. “I’d like that. Song Rui too.”
“Mm.”
Wang Yuqiong showed no surprise. With no one nearby, Shen An saw no need to play dumb.
Song Rui herself had already blabbed about their connection far and wide.
Acting like he had no idea she wanted into the Art Troupe would just come off as phony.
Naturally, he skipped mentioning their joint interview the day before.
Wang Yuqiong had probably pieced it together anyway.
Once clear of the teaching building, Shen An whipped out his phone and texted Chen Nannan.
Around her, he put on a different face.
“Whoa, interview finally done~”
Chen Nannan fired back almost instantly: “All set? How’d it go? Senior Sister Zhao again?”
“Yup.”
“What’d she ask?”
“Whoa, Senior Sister, you’re such a gossip~”
“Not spilling? Your loss!”
“Eh, the questions were kinda weird. Not sure if I should even say.”
“What’s so hush-hush?” Chen Nannan hammered out.
“She asked if I’ve ever dated. If there’s anyone I like.”
Shen An ribbed her: “Felt straight-up like a setup for a blind date.”
Chen Nannan’s brows shot up as she read it, a faint furrow forming between them.
“Why would she ask you that?”
“No clue. Shouldn’t it be Art Troupe stuff?”
“You positive you didn’t do anything to catch Senior Sister Zhao’s eye?”
“I told you before, Senior Sister—just asked her for directions on check-in day.” Shen An played innocent.
“Fair enough. Just stay on your toes.”
Chen Nannan fretted. “Senior Sister Zhao’s friendly, sure. But get too close, and it’s nothing but headaches.”
“Gotcha. You’re my number one, after all~”
Shen An slipped in some sweet talk.
Chen Nannan’s furrowed brow eased, the corners of her mouth curving up.
“Right, and when I got here earlier, I walked into the wrong classroom. The moment I pushed open the door, I saw the Student Union holding a meeting.”
Shen An shared the amusing mishap from moments ago with her.
Chen Nannan chimed in with her own complaint. “A meeting? Yeah, it must be about the Mobilization Conference.”
“Senior Sister, how come you didn’t go? Aren’t you the president of the Club Federation?”
“Nah, the Mobilization Conference doesn’t have much to do with the Club Federation. The departments that went were ones like the Publicity Department.”
“And let me tell you, I’ve got a ton more work piled up on my end now.”
Chen Nannan set aside the task at hand and vented to him.
She explained that Teacher Pei had called everyone to the Large Classroom bright and early that morning to hand out assignments—especially new regulations regarding the clubs. While working in her apartment, Chen Nannan kept receiving fresh work directives nonstop.
Shen An raised an eyebrow. “The Large Classroom? Was that the one I stumbled into?”
“B101,” Chen Nannan replied.
“Did it start really early?”
“Yeah, around eight-something in the morning. It dragged on for a few hours, and then they headed over to the Student Union. I was swamped.”
Sure enough.
Zhao Qingyu’s talk of “arriving early” had been total bullshit.
Teacher Pei had the Large Classroom first, followed by Xu Yijing and the Student Union.
Zhao Qingyu had deliberately set him up.
If Shen An had shown up early, he would have walked in on Teacher Pei and the others. If he’d arrived a bit later, it would have been Xu Yijing’s Student Union crew.
Either way, he’d have landed smack in the middle of an awkward situation.
This was the second time.
Shen An sneered inwardly.
Fortunately, he’d been mentally prepared, so he wasn’t truly furious—just a little annoyed.
“Then I’ll head out now. Meet me at the Basketball Court?”
Chen Nannan snapped her laptop shut and said.
“Sure. I haven’t had lunch yet!”
“Hah, don’t expect me to buy you lunch!” Chen Nannan shot back, sounding tough.
“Hey? Senior Sister, how can you think that of me? I can afford a meal.”
“Tch, just wait there. I’m coming now.”
“Mm-hmm.”
The chat came to an end.
Shen An strolled leisurely toward yesterday’s Basketball Court. Meanwhile, Chen Nannan got herself ready. She dug out her basketball gear, which had been gathering dust for years, and picked out her pieces one by one.
Shen An reached the Basketball Court first. It was still early, and there wasn’t a soul in sight. The sun blazed fiercely overhead, its light almost blinding.
He squinted and found a shady spot to wait for Chen Nannan.
The moment he pulled out his phone, a message popped up from Song Rui.
“Shen An! Shen An! I got a text from the Art Troupe!!!”
“I passed the first interview! Now I’m just waiting for the second one!!”
Even through the screen, Shen An could feel the joy and surprise bubbling in Song Rui’s words.
Last night, she’d been convinced she’d flopped and had spent hours pestering him late into the night with her melancholy posts.
Shen An chuckled to himself. Didn’t expect Zhao Qingyu to work so efficiently.
