The music gradually faded to a stop, and the lights blazed back on.
A hush fell over the audience for two seconds before thunderous applause exploded from the crowd.
Jiang Wan panted lightly. When she saw the crowd’s excited reactions, a lovely smile curved her lips.
She tilted her head toward Bei Huai, her smile deepening as her eyes bent into pretty crescents.
She looked so sweet and obedient, the perfect picture to stir anyone’s protective instincts.
It felt like a feather had drifted into Bei Huai’s heart—light and fluffy, ticklish and tingling.
Bei Huai pressed her lips together, lowered her eyes to avoid Jiang Wan’s gaze, and fidgeted with her earlobe, feeling oddly restless. As the announcer stepped onto the stage, she rose and slipped off it.
Jiang Wan’s performance was done, and Bei Huai had no desire to linger. She headed straight for the back door.
But she hadn’t gone far when a soft hand caught her arm.
“Classmate Bei Huai, thank you so much for today.”
The girl’s cheeks were faintly flushed. She hadn’t even bothered changing out of her dance skirt before rushing down to catch up.
Bei Huai glanced at her, then slowly looked away, her voice flat and even.
“I just happened to know that piece.”
The unspoken message was clear: I wasn’t doing it to help you!
So adorably tsundere.
Jiang Wan chuckled to herself inside, brushing off Bei Huai’s words. “Classmate Bei Huai, your piano playing was incredible. Let me buy you milk tea tomorrow.”
“I have some things to take care of, so I won’t keep you any longer, Classmate Bei Huai.” She gave Bei Huai a wave and turned to leave.
Milk tea?
Who drinks that kid stuff?
Bei Huai scoffed inwardly, but as she watched the girl’s retreating figure, her gaze darkened.
In the next instant, she broke into a stride with those long legs of hers, catching up to the girl in a few quick steps.
“You…” Jiang Wan turned back, her expression surprised.
“Stuffed myself. Just walking it off.” The girl with her wild mop of red hair delivered the line coolly, her face impassive even under Jiang Wan’s skeptical stare.
Idiot.
Bei Huai grumbled to herself.
As if she couldn’t guess what Jiang Wan was up to—checking the surveillance footage to track down whoever had tampered with her dance skirt.
Those old codgers in the control room weren’t about to take orders from some little girl without a fight.
They were a snobbish bunch.
But if Bei Huai tagged along, they’d straighten up fast.
Of course, Jiang Wan knew exactly why Bei Huai was following. The girl’s deadpan excuse made her want to laugh, while a warm feeling bloomed in her chest.
The backstage area fell under the Student Council’s watch. By the time the two reached the control room, the student inside—who had been dozing off—jolted awake at the sight of Bei Huai. He turned instantly attentive, eager to help with whatever they needed.
When they pulled up the footage of Jiang Wan leaving backstage just before the event started, the screen abruptly went black.
“Th-this… how did it just break like that? It was working fine a minute ago!” The student flailed in panic, terrified that Bei Huai might think he’d sabotaged it.
Jiang Wan rubbed her brow, forcing herself to stay calm.
First the ruined dress, then the music glitch, the track that couldn’t be swapped, and now the surveillance footage destroyed.
It was obvious: someone had planned this from the start, aiming to make her swallow the humiliation in silence.
Too bad for them—they hadn’t counted on her spare dress or Bei Huai’s last-minute piano rescue.
She already had her suspicions, but with the footage wiped, there was no hard proof. She couldn’t name names.
Jiang Wan let out a sigh and followed Bei Huai out of the control room.
“Sorry for dragging you along on this.”
“Who said I was following you? I told you, I’m digesting. I go where I want. Can’t you understand plain speech?” Bei Huai shot her a glare, her tone sharp and snappish.
But it wasn’t intimidating at all. If anything, she came off like a tiny kitten, hissing and spitting with puffed-up fur.
“Alright, my bad.” Jiang Wan smiled, letting the girl’s transparent fib slide.
She met Bei Huai’s eyes, her own smile soft but utterly sincere.
“Thanks for jumping on stage today. I loved the piece you played—it was beautiful.”
“Classmate Bei Huai, if we get the chance, I’d really love to work together again.”
Jiang Wan’s eyes were dark pools of brightness, and in those stunning pupils, Bei Huai could clearly see her own reflection.
For the first time, she caught a look of bewilderment on her own face.
The girl’s words seemed to carry some kind of magic, echoing endlessly in her ears. Even after leaving school and getting home, her mind kept replaying Jiang Wan’s gentle smile and soft voice.
Damn it.
She muttered a curse under her breath.
What the hell was this?
Back when she was little, Yun Manzhu had wanted to mold her into a girl of many talents. She’d signed her up for every class under the sun.
Of them all, piano was the one Bei Huai picked up the fastest and mastered best.
She’d been so naive back then, slaving away at the keys every day just to win Yun Manzhu’s approval.
Her childhood held no fun, no laughter. There were only the same unchanging rooms, monotonous practice sessions, and Yun Manzhu’s constant scoldings.
Later, just to spite Yun Manzhu, she rebelled against the woman. She slacked off on her piano practice and barely bothered with her studies.
She never played the piano in front of Yun Manzhu again.
Though she didn’t hate the piano, not at all.
Many people had told her they loved her playing. They showered her pieces with the most extravagant praise.
But none of it could compare to that one simple word from the girl: “Nice.”
Just those two words had made her heart skip a beat.
Jiang Wan had said she really liked her music.
Jiang Wan had said she was looking forward to working together again.
What she hadn’t said was that she felt exactly the same.
She tossed and turned in bed, lost in wild thoughts for hours.
Bei Huai suddenly sat up, grabbed her phone, and dialed Cen Jin.
Being woken in the middle of the night clearly put the other woman in a foul mood.
She snarled over the line, “What the hell time is it?! Bei Huai, if this isn’t some dire emergency, I’m coming over to your place and dragging you down with me!”
Ignoring Cen Jin’s seething resentment, Bei Huai cut straight to it. “Do me a favor. If you pull it off, I owe you one.”
That snapped Cen Jin awake in an instant.
No joke—opportunities to have Sister Huai owe her a favor didn’t come around often.
“Yo, something even Sister Huai can’t handle?” she teased, slipping back into her usual banter.
“Cut the crap. Are you in or not?” Bei Huai’s brow furrowed, her tone laced with impatience.
“Come on, is that any way to ask for a favor?” Cen Jin nearly laughed in exasperation.
Fine. She really shouldn’t have picked up on this damn mutt.
Bei Huai tapped her fingers idly. “Sister Ala’s prized red wine. I’ll bring it to you next time.”
She spoke calmly, utterly confident that Cen Jin wouldn’t be able to resist.
Others might not know it, but she did. Beneath that polished exterior, Cen Jin was nothing but a fussy wine snob.
She loved her booze like it was her lifeblood, but she was insanely picky about it.
That bottle from Sister Ala’s collection? Cen Jin had been eyeing it for ages, but Sister Ala wouldn’t budge.
Sure enough, Cen Jin’s voice lit up with excitement. “Deal. You better not back out.”
“Alright, what’s the favor?”
“Just a small one.”
“Help me… look into something.”
In her mind, Bei Huai insisted she wasn’t doing this for Jiang Wan. She was only involved in the show herself, and since she’d performed on it, she wouldn’t tolerate anyone pulling shady moves during her segment.
That was all.
She told herself firmly.
