“Good afternoon, everyone.”
Zhao Qingyu stood on the stage, positioned in front of the microphone, and began her speech.
During her address, she occasionally let a hint of a smile play across her lips, adding a touch of warmth to her words so that the audience below wouldn’t feel overly intimidated.
Yet the smile curving at the corners of her mouth clashed with the aura she exuded, as she maintained an air of cool detachment at all times.
This profound sense of distance was palpable without needing any direct contact—like the vibrant colors of a poisonous mushroom serving as a clear warning.
Her speech, however, proved remarkably effective. At least no one dared to slack off or let their mind wander; everyone perked up their ears and listened attentively.
It was a curious phenomenon.
Words spoken by someone calm and mild, or content delivered in a gentle tone, often struggled to hold attention, lulling listeners into drowsiness.
By contrast, words from someone who seemed unapproachable, or sharp and piercing content, had a strangely invigorating effect—the difference, perhaps, between wholesome chicken soup and its toxic counterpart.
Of course, from Shen An’s perspective, it was Zhao Qingyu’s strikingly cold beauty that inevitably drew people in.
Even girls weren’t immune to biological instincts: humans were simply drawn to attractive things, regardless of gender.
That said, if there were any lesbians in the crowd, few would likely choose Zhao Qingyu’s type. Her thorns were too prominent, her distance too intimidating.
Instead…
Shen An shifted his gaze slightly, turning his head to glance at Shen Lianyao standing behind him.
Shen Lianyao’s appearance was probably the sort that would be extremely popular among lesbians.
She had a touch of androgynous, cool handsome vibe, blended with the unique gentleness of femininity. Her presence wasn’t as overtly intense as Zhao Qingyu’s—there was some distance, but she gave the impression of someone gentle upon closer approach.
These were all conclusions Shen An had drawn from observing Shen Lianyao’s looks.
As for her true personality, he had no idea.
They weren’t that close yet.
Shen Lianyao was listening too, but midway through, she noticed Shen An’s gaze on her. She furrowed her brows slightly in confusion, eyeing him with a peculiar look.
Then there was Song Rui, standing right behind Shen An, with all his movements in her line of sight.
She stared at him with an equally odd expression.
Ahem.
Shen An cleared his throat and put on a serious face. In a low voice, he said, “Pay attention and don’t zone out.”
Song Rui blinked in bewilderment. “?”
With that, Shen An turned back around, only to meet the icy stare Zhao Qingyu cast from the stage.
Yu Wen and Xu Ling, standing to either side of him, both ducked their heads in unison, stifling smiles.
Shen An was probably one of the few—no, likely the only one—daring to glance around and zone out while Zhao Qingyu was speaking.
And he was standing right below her, so close, yet still letting his mind wander. Bold move.
In their hearts, Yu Wen and Xu Ling both gave Shen An a silent thumbs-up.
Fearless as ever, Shen An flashed Zhao Qingyu a brilliant smile in return.
Zhao Qingyu’s expression flickered with a subtle hint of exasperation.
Hah.
She ignored him and continued her speech.
After roughly half an hour, Zhao Qingyu wrapped up.
It was all standard fare: welcoming everyone, going over the Art Troupe’s rules, and so on.
But instead of dismissing the group right away, she paused after her routine remarks.
She glanced at Shen An, then announced, “For the upcoming Freshman Welcome arrangements, I won’t be following the usual procedures, nor will we hold it on campus.”
“I’m planning a two-day getaway this weekend. I hope you can all adjust your schedules accordingly and attend without fail.”
Her words instantly shattered the silence below, sparking a wave of commotion.
Even Shen An was caught off guard.
He knew about Zhao Qingyu’s plan, but he hadn’t expected her to spring it so suddenly.
This weekend?
Any plan needed buffer time, which was why announcements should come in advance—to avoid conflicts.
Yet Zhao Qingyu had laid no groundwork beforehand and was slotting it right into this weekend.
From the shocked looks on Yu Wen and Xu Ling’s faces beside him, Shen An could tell he might be the only one in the loop.
Not even the Art Troupe’s president or other leaders knew.
Zhao Qingyu cleared her throat lightly, restoring quiet to the hall.
She swept a commanding gaze over the densely packed crowd and said, “That concludes my remarks.”
With that, she turned and left the stage.
The audience below was still reeling from the bombshell.
Shen An reacted quickest. He started clapping at once, and Yu Wen and Xu Ling quickly joined in.
Only then did applause ripple through the hall, sparing Zhao Qingyu an awkward exit in dead silence.
Next up was Qi Taili’s speech.
Though nominally just the Singing Group’s leader, she was in truth Zhao Qingyu’s right hand—the Art Troupe’s number two.
If Zhao Qingyu’s address had been a biting winter chill, Qi Taili’s was the warm, sunny spring.
With her signature healing smile and bright, cheerful voice, she captivated the crowd, achieving the same “effect” as Zhao Qingyu through sheer affability.
Of course, there was the occasional touch of endearing airheadedness.
But Shen An frowned, and he wasn’t alone. Yu Wen and Xu Ling, along with the other group leaders and the president, all wore furrowed brows.
Zhao Qingyu’s abrupt vacation announcement felt… too rash.
Even as Qi Taili worked hard to lighten the mood, the leaders’ concerns lingered.
The regular members were fine, but the real headache was this cadre of officers.
Pushing this initiative forward would fall first on the department heads.
If anything went wrong, Zhao Qingyu’s accountability would start with them.
Qi Taili’s speech was straightforward, wrapping up in about ten minutes.
Combined with Zhao Qingyu’s, the whole thing clocked in under an hour—faster than Shen An had anticipated.
Once both had spoken, the assembly disbanded.
But members couldn’t leave yet; each had to stick with their department head for briefings.
Some toured the Art Troupe’s facilities to familiarize themselves for future work, while others held quick meet-and-greets, chatting and getting to know one another.
Only the three from the office remained rooted in place.
Shen An was lost in thought.
He had a feeling Zhao Qingyu’s plan wouldn’t go as smoothly as she hoped.
So sudden—plenty of people wouldn’t be able to make it.
With her personality, could she accept that? And if not, how would she deal with those who had to bow out?
Shen An’s real focus wasn’t punishment, but Zhao Qingyu’s “mood.”
The moment she announced it, he saw an opportunity.
A chance to draw closer to her.
Song Rui watched the pensive Shen An, unsure whether to interrupt.
But with everyone else dispersing, the three of them standing there like statues felt awkward.
Shen Lianyao, ever direct, stepped forward when she saw Song Rui hesitating. “Shen An.”
Shen An snapped out of his reverie. “Hm?”
Shen Lianyao regarded him coolly. “Where are we going?”
“Office first.”
Shen An glanced toward the office. Zhao Qingyu was probably waiting for them there.
Song Rui let out a quiet sigh of relief, thinking to herself in secret delight.
Senior Sister Zhao’s already gone, right?
No need to be around her…
Shen An caught the look and shattered her hopes without mercy. “Senior Sister’s up there waiting for us.”
Wah…
Song Rui’s face fell. She pleaded with Shen An. “How about you two go ahead… I… I need the bathroom?”
“No can do.”
Shen An gently ruffled her hair, but his smile was decidedly sly. “If Senior Sister finds out, she’ll be upset.”
“And if she’s upset, you might get an earful.”
Her last shred of hope crumbled.
Song Rui resigned herself to fate, her steps trembling faintly as she murmured, “Then… let’s go.”
“No worries. Chin up, chest out. There you go.”
Shen An encouraged her like crocodile tears from an alligator, all false sincerity.
Shen Lianyao couldn’t quite fathom their dynamic.
It was just the office.
What was the big deal?
