Chapter 72 Part 1

Sang Wan stared expressionlessly at the message she’d just received, her finger sliding up to scroll back through the texts Sang Lin had sent her many days ago.

“Sis, Sister Yue Bai knows about your thing. She told me not to tell you.” —Sang Lin.

“But she believes you.” —Sang Lin.

Although Yue Bai had instructed Sang Lin not to tell Sang Wan, he was her own little brother, after all. On the very day Yue Bai asked him, he relayed the whole story to Sang Wan without a single change.

“Senior Sister, you’re so slow,” Yue Bai said, hugging her clothes and pouting.

Sang Wan tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Go wash up already.”

“Shouldn’t Senior Sister warm the bed for me first?” Yue Bai poked her head out from the bathroom door before closing it.

“After you come out.” Sang Wan felt helpless.

Back in the bedroom, Sang Wan opened her computer to check the organized files. Sang Lin had one month until adulthood. After that, she could send these documents to Ming Qisang.

He should pack his things by then and leave the Sang Family with his “family.”

She copied the files and sent them to Grandpa Sang.

Grandpa would handle these matters for her.

Once everything was done, Sang Wan climbed into bed.

Yue Bai finished washing up quickly. The moment Sang Wan got into bed, Yue Bai came out.

“That fast?” Sang Wan teased with a laugh. “Did your body even touch the water?”

“How could you say that about me, Senior Sister? Look, there’s still water on my arm that I didn’t dry off.” Yue Bai grinned and held out her arm in front of Sang Wan, lifting her chin with perfect justification. “I won’t see you tomorrow. I want to look at you more and spend as much time with you as possible right now. Can’t I?”

“You can.” Sang Wan indulged her.

The drive from A City to B City took two and a half hours. The college had chartered over a dozen buses to shuttle the students.

The next day, Yue Bai got up at six in the morning. She needed to assist the League Branch Secretary in counting the class roster to check for no-shows or latecomers.

They boarded by class, and only when the entire class was accounted for could they depart.

Yue Bai tried to keep her voice down, but she still woke Sang Wan.

The latter flicked on the light.

“Senior Sister, it’s still early. You can sleep a bit more,” Yue Bai said sweetly, planting a kiss on Sang Wan’s cheek.

“Be safe on the road,” Sang Wan said with a faint smile. “Text me when you arrive.”

“You got it.” Yue Bai reluctantly kissed Sang Wan’s face several more times.

Ever since they started dating, she and Sang Wan had never been apart for this long—not even during the New Year holidays, when Sang Wan would still come to see her.

Once Yue Bai left, Sang Wan’s eyes darkened considerably. She irritably rubbed her forehead. Though she harbored resentment toward what Li Yi had done all those years ago, what truly chilled her was the lack of trust from her own family.

Her emotional outburst that day stemmed from a dream where Ming Qisang accused her, and Yue Bai, upon learning the truth, rejected her with disgust.

The accusations from her biological father and his betrayal of her mother had wounded Sang Wan’s young heart time and again.

She lost all faith in him completely after he married Qin Yan and brought that mother-son pair home.

But Yue Bai was different—she was the one to whom Sang Wan had given her heart wholeheartedly. That was why the dream of Yue Bai abandoning her provoked such a strong reaction.

Sang Wan didn’t dare mention that past to Yue Bai.

It wasn’t fear that Yue Bai wouldn’t trust her; that history was simply too dark for Sang Wan to speak of.

As she’d expected, after learning the truth, Yue Bai showed no hint of distrust. Instead, she felt even more heartbroken for Sang Wan, always checking in during her daily routines to give her a sense of security.

Just like this message she sent right now.

“Baby, I’m on the bus. We’ll head out soon.” —Yue Bai.

Sang Wan looked at the greeting at the top and couldn’t help but curve her lips.

“You’re so cheeky,” Sang Wan replied.

“How am I cheeky? Baby?” —Yue Bai.

“Idiot, you’re younger than me. I should be the one calling you that,” Sang Wan said.

“It has nothing to do with age, okay? I don’t care—I want to call you Baby,” Yue Bai typed rapidly on the screen, her fingers flying.

After sending it, she felt something was missing. She held down the voice message button, leaned close to the screen, and drew out her tone: “Baby~”

The tingling voice came through the speaker like an electric current straight to Sang Wan’s spine, leaving her momentarily numb.

Sang Wan hadn’t expected Yue Bai to be so bold as to send a voice message.

Sang Wan’s throat bobbed as she listened to it several times, then long-pressed to save it.

“Yeah, I’m your Baby,” Sang Wan replied.

Yue Bai saw the message and grinned triumphantly.

She set her phone down, about to call roll again, when she stood up and noticed every classmate on the bus staring at her.

Yue Bai looked around in confusion, then at her spot. What was the big deal?

“Baby~” someone said first, and then voices rose one after another throughout the bus.

“Baby~”

Yue Bai: “…”

Was her voice that loud?

The League Branch Secretary sitting next to her stifled a laugh. “Sorry about that. I just told everyone to quiet down so I could go over the safety rules, and then you spoke up.”

“Was I really that loud?” Yue Bai’s mouth twitched.

The League Branch Secretary pointed to the earbuds in her ears. “Not exactly quiet.”

Yue Bai instinctively took them off.

When wearing earbuds, people unconsciously speak louder, and with the bus suddenly going silent, her voice stood out even more.

“Heh heh.” Yue Bai gave an awkward laugh and slowly sank back into her seat, burying her head in her backpack.

Talk about social suicide.

“The Academic Commissioner is spoiling her girlfriend rotten—voice messages and everything,” someone she was friendly with teased from the bus.

Yue Bai’s face flushed red in an instant. She shot back without mercy, “What’s wrong, single dog? Jealous?”

That person feigned heartbreak. “That’s a personal attack! I’m telling the teacher.”

“Go right ahead, my dear single-dog classmate. I wish you find someone soon,” Yue Bai said sincerely, looking at them.

“Whoa, League Branch Secretary, please cover that person’s mouth,” they complained.

The League Branch Secretary shrugged helplessly. “Can’t do it. She has to call roll later—if I cover her mouth, all that work falls on me.”

The bus erupted in cheers and laughter.

As the bus started moving, Yue Bai kept texting.

“Baby, the bus is off. Waaah, the distance between us is growing,” Yue Bai wrote.

Sang Wan’s phone buzzed. She lay half-reclined on the bed, her eyes involuntarily drifting to the empty side beside her.

Just yesterday at this time, the other woman had been sleeping peacefully right there.

“You’re a bit cheesy,” Sang Wan replied.

Yue Bai waited eagerly for Sang Wan’s response. When she saw that, a bunch of black lines appeared on her forehead.

Senior Sister called her cheesy?

The next second, a new message popped up.

“But I like it,” Sang Wan said.

Yue Bai smugly curved her lips. “I only get cheesy for you~”

Sang Wan: “…Fine.”

The bus drove out of the school gates, and Yue Bai put her earbuds back in, queuing up some music to rest.

When she opened her eyes again, they had entered B City limits.

Less than an hour remained until they reached the sketching site. Bored, Yue Bai pulled out her tablet and opened her drawing app.

The League Branch Secretary noticed the screen. “Teaming up with Fang Zhou this time?”

“Yeah, he’ll handle part of it, and I’ll do the rest,” Yue Bai said, testing the brush tool. “I’m in charge of the final details.”

The League Branch Secretary nodded. “You’re always great with details.”

Yue Bai smiled. “What about you? How’s your group’s progress?”

“Almost done—just final details left. But the Counselor wants us to add some traditional Chinese elements,” the League Branch Secretary said.

Yue Bai nodded in understanding. “Sounds good. Ours is more modern Chinese style. Next group, I plan to do ancient style.”

As she spoke, Yue Bai switched to a new canvas. Her stylus danced across the tablet, bringing a sketch to life.

She added layers, lowered the opacity on the initial sketch, and outlined the precise forms on the new one.

Before she knew it, the bus pulled up in front of a hotel.

The students would stay there during the sketching trip.

Yue Bai and the League Branch Secretary got off first and took the room cards from the Counselor, distributing one per pair.

“Two per room—come get your cards here,” the League Branch Secretary called out, raising her arm to signal their classmates.

Other classes were doing the same.

Yue Bai took the opportunity to text Sang Wan.

“My dear Senior Sister Baby, I made it,” Yue Bai wrote.

After handing out the cards, she naturally roomed with the League Branch Secretary.

It was a double bed. Exhausted from the long ride, Yue Bai flopped back onto it.

Wang Yi, the League Branch Secretary, was someone Yue Bai knew well, so there was no awkwardness between them.

“The Counselor said we’ll rest at the hotel this morning and head out for sketching after lunch,” Wang Yi said, opening a message with the schedule and forwarding it to the class group.

Yue Bai glanced at it. Lunch was at 11:30, sketching in the afternoon until five. They could eat at the hotel or grab food elsewhere.

They had to be back by nine every night for teacher check-in.

“Did the Counselor say where we’re sketching?” Yue Bai asked.

“Nope. I figure anywhere near that mountain should work—this area’s not that big anyway,” Wang Yi said. “I even saw shops nearby selling sketching paintings. Some people might just buy them instead of painting.”

Yue Bai raised an eyebrow. Sketching wouldn’t take her long; she could handle dinner on her own as long as she was back before nine.

She could visit B University that afternoon, but as Academic Commissioner, the Counselor might need her for something anytime.

Moreover, Luo Mian still hadn’t contacted her even now, and she had no idea if he’d found the person yet.

Yue Bai let out a quiet sigh to herself and set the matter aside for the moment.

“Ding-dong.” Her phone chimed with a WeChat notification.

It was from Sang Wan.

“Okay.” —Sang Wan.

“What’s this ‘dear Senior Sister Baby’ nonsense? Call me Senior Sister properly.” —Sang Wan.

“No way, you know me. Do you have any idea how embarrassing it was when I sent you that voice message today? The whole class heard it, and I had nowhere to hide my old face.” Yue Bai recounted the entire incident in the car to Sang Wan in detail.

The chat window showed that the other side was typing, starting and stopping, clearly struggling with what to say.

Yue Bai watched curiously, wondering what Senior Sister was about to send.

After a long moment.

“You’re hilarious.” —Sang Wan.

“…” —Yue Bai.

“Alright, there there.” —Sang Wan.

“Can’t feel it.” —Yue Bai.

“Wait till you get back.” —Sang Wan.

“Okay.” —Yue Bai.

After chatting with Sang Wan, Yue Bai’s mood lifted considerably. She smiled brightly as she set her phone down. Not far away, a pair of inquisitive eyes landed on her.

Yue Bai looked up and met Wang Yi’s gaze. The unrestrained laughter in her eyes made her delight plain as day.

“Yue Bai, I’ve realized you’re acting really strange lately,” Wang Yi said, rubbing her chin as she scrutinized Yue Bai closely.

In Wang Yi’s memory, Yue Bai had always been reserved. But the current Yue Bai seemed like she’d been dipped in honey—happy and bubbly every day.

Even her artistic style had shifted a bit from freshman year. Back then, Yue Bai had filled her canvases with cool tones, but now she used warm colors as a base, and the hues that shone through were mostly warm as well.