Early that morning, Xu Yijing had already headed out.
As the vice president, she had finally entered her busy season.
Shen An, on the other hand, slept in leisurely until the sun was high enough to warm his backside before he comfortably opened his eyes.
As usual, he sent a greeting to Chen Nannan, then got out of bed. Timing it just right, he headed to the Art Troupe to run lines with Zhao Qingyu.
The Art Troupe was still swarming with people, another long line snaking down the hallway, packed with figures everywhere.
Having been burned twice before, Shen An was naturally more cautious this time.
He didn’t rush straight to Zhao Qingyu. Instead, he first greeted someone from the Art Troupe and asked about the situation. “Excuse me, Senior Sister, has Senior Sister Zhao arrived yet?”
The senior sister from the Art Troupe blinked in surprise at the sight of Shen An, then flashed a faint smile. “You again, lucky guy.”
Lucky guy?
The nickname rubbed him the wrong way.
Shen An felt a twinge of annoyance inside but kept it hidden, responding with a smile.
The senior sister continued, “Senior Sister Zhao got here already. She’s waiting for you in last night’s classroom. You should hurry.”
She lowered her voice in reminder. “Senior Sister Zhao seems to be in a bit of a foul mood today. Be careful.”
The corner of Shen An’s mouth twitched slightly. “Thanks.”
If she was in a bad mood, then Shen An was in an excellent one.
Outside the classroom, Shen An first peeked through the window.
No different from yesterday—Zhao Qingyu sat there alone, quietly, with an empty desk save for her small hands cradling her phone.
Today’s outfit was different for Zhao Qingyu!
She’d ditched the dark green hair clip, letting her natural shoulder-length bob fall free.
Her makeup was as exquisite as ever, with the corners of her eyes subtly winged upward, accentuating her fox-like gaze to mesmerizing effect.
Her clothes weren’t as provocative as before—a long-sleeved top paired with jeans and short boots, giving off a more understated, everyday vibe. But with her stunning looks, no matter what she wore, it carried her unmistakable personal flair, impossible to hide.
Her expression gave nothing away—no hint of joy or anger, good or bad.
Shen An knocked lightly and pushed the door open.
“Senior Sister, good afternoon.”
Zhao Qingyu kept her head down, focused on her phone, ignoring Shen An’s greeting.
Unfazed, Shen An sauntered over and took a seat in front of her.
Only up close did he notice she was typing out a message, her slender fingers tapping away at the screen without pause.
“She’s pretty quick at typing,” Shen An thought to himself.
With her occupied for the moment, Shen An let his gaze naturally drift to her face.
Who could ignore it? Zhao Qingyu’s beauty was like a five-star scenic wonder, impossible for anyone to overlook.
Propping his chin on his hand, he eyed her with a playful glint.
Pure friendship between men and women was rare. Stripping away other social ties, the first thing that came to mind was romance.
After a few interactions with Zhao Qingyu, Shen An had to admit: as girlfriend material, she was top-tier, no question.
Setting aside deep emotions or long-term potential, having Zhao Qingyu as your girlfriend would be a massive brag-worthy win.
Beauty like a five-star scenic wonder, a slender figure rivaling an international supermodel, and that icy, glamorous aura.
She absolutely slayed. No matter how picky you were, you couldn’t find fault with her on the surface level.
Shen An mulled it over out of curiosity, but he had no real interest in romance right now.
It was like spotting a gorgeous woman on the street—you’d sneak a few appreciative glances out of curiosity, but actually making a move? Nah, too risky for looking like a fool.
Besides, viewing her through a romantic lens, Zhao Qingyu wasn’t the right fit anyway.
In a romance drama, she wouldn’t make a good lead heroine—more like the scheming villainess or the rival’s daughter stirring up trouble for the hero.
Her bold, dominant personality clashed with Shen An’s own.
Not to mention her repeated teasing—his impression of her leaned more negative than positive.
Soon enough, Zhao Qingyu wrapped up.
She slammed her phone down on the desk, ending her “work” with a thud.
The sudden noise startled Shen An out of his thoughts. He probed cautiously, “Senior Sister? You okay?”
Zhao Qingyu tossed her hair back and lifted her head, replying flatly, “I’m fine.”
Sure she was?
Shen An glanced at the cracked screen, staying cool.
“Today is the final round of interviews—the most important one.”
Zhao Qingyu dropped the teasing, playful vibe from their previous encounters, turning crisp and direct.
“I’m not asking you any questions this time. Instead, I’m giving you a chance to perform. You can think of it as a test of your abilities.”
“If you meet my expectations, you’ll pass.”
“If not, I’ll recommend you to another department. Got it?”
Her expression was icy, devoid of her usual flirtatious charm. Those fox-like eyes lost their seductive pull, replaced by an oppressive intensity that put pressure on him.
The so-called pressure didn’t faze Shen An. If anything, he preferred this straightforward style over her enigmatic seductiveness from before.
He nodded seriously. “Got it.”
“Good.”
Zhao Qingyu inclined her head slightly, then issued her instructions. “First task: head to B101 right now and cover for me at the Student Union meeting.”
“I’ll hand over the materials. Just take notes on the meeting while fending off Xu Yijing’s questions based on them.”
Shen An: ????
“Huh?”
“What’s with the ‘huh’? Can’t do it?” Zhao Qingyu furrowed her brow. “Is this task too hard for you?”
Shen An chuckled coldly to himself.
“No problem.”
“Perfect.” With that, Zhao Qingyu pulled a thick stack of documents from her desk drawer and handed them to him.
“Here’s the Art Troupe’s proposal and data sheets. You won’t have much time to review them, but when Xu Yijing grills you later, try not to slip up. Clear?”
Shen An had some idea of how tough these interviews could get, especially with a “restless” senior sister like Zhao Qingyu.
The first two rounds seemed simple—just answer questions and chat.
But he’d never let his guard down.
So this sudden curveball, while puzzling, didn’t rattle him.
He took the hefty stack from her, immediately feeling its weight.
Even taking it home to read slowly would take hours for one pass—far from memorizing it.
Zhao Qingyu assigning this was clearly meant to trip him up.
A “test of ability” on the surface, but really just another round of toying with him.
“Time’s short. The meeting starts in ten minutes.”
Zhao Qingyu said coolly, “In other words, you have ten minutes to prep. Of course, you can still back out now.”
“Well?”
Only then did a flicker of mischief cross her eyes.
It was a near-impossible task.
Shen An missed the glint, too busy flipping open the files and scanning them intently.
The documents had two main parts.
One was the Art Troupe’s plan for the upcoming school year; the other, their summary report from the previous year.
Together, they made up over seventy percent of the content.
That meant the meeting was clearly the Student Union’s review session.
Recapping last year’s work and approving this year’s plans and schedules.
Not just the Art Troupe—every department had to bring their materials and face the Student Union’s questioning.
Shen An read quickly, experienced enough to skip the trivial bits and zero in on the core via the table of contents.
Seeing this, Zhao Qingyu fell silent, letting him be.
But the mischief in her eyes sharpened, laced with malice.
The task was a breeze for her—she’d been in the Art Troupe for three years and knew it inside out.
For a newbie who hadn’t even joined? Pure hell.
In about five minutes, Shen An skimmed the summary section once.
He looked up at Zhao Qingyu. “This task is a real challenge, Senior Sister.”
Zhao Qingyu smiled faintly. “Just ‘a challenge’? So you think you can pull it off, right?”
“Well, whether I can or not, I have to say yes first.”
Shen An said lightly, “You’ve got to show the right attitude before figuring out how to do it.”
“That said, I can’t guarantee success. If I screw it up, it’s no big deal for me, but I wouldn’t want to drag you down, Senior Sister.”
Zhao Qingyu narrowed her eyes. “I believe in you.”
“Even if I mess up, that’s fine?” Shen An wasn’t buying the empty words.
“Well, if you do mess up, there might be some trouble.”
Zhao Qingyu shrugged. “Your grades, credits, evaluations—they might hit a few little snags.”
“That serious?”
“The Student Union is responsible for these things anyway. You know how few teachers the school has; they don’t have the energy to handle everything.”
“But don’t worry too much. If you do a good job, the rewards will be substantial.”
Shen An raised an eyebrow slightly. “Risk and reward, huh?”
“Of course. There’s no such thing as a free lunch, and no risk without reason.”
Zhao Qingyu propped her chin on her hand. “So, what do you say? Take it or not?”
“Take it. Why not?”
Shen An said softly, “It’s rare for Senior Sister to think so highly of me and entrust me with such an important task.”
“Confidence is key.” Zhao Qingyu patted his shoulder. “I knew I wasn’t wrong about you. Good luck then.”
With that, Zhao Qingyu stood up.
As she reached the door, she paused and turned back with a provocative smile. “Oh, right. Want some milk tea? I’m heading out to buy some. Should I get you one?”
Shen An kept his smile steady. “Original flavor, extra sugar, less ice. Thanks.”
“Got it.”
Zhao Qingyu left the classroom, leaving Shen An alone.
He turned back to the thick stack of documents, frowning slightly at their complexity.
He had long heard of Zhao Qingyu’s notorious reputation, and after several interactions, he had come to appreciate just how troublesome she truly was.
But he hadn’t expected her to be this brazen.
This went beyond simply making things difficult for him. If anything went wrong with this report, the entire Art Troupe would be implicated.
He couldn’t tell whether Zhao Qingyu was so confident that she dismissed the Student Union outright, or if she simply believed she could clean up any mess he made without breaking a sweat.
From a decision-maker’s perspective, Zhao Qingyu showed a complete lack of responsibility, acting purely on her whims and moods.
Time was short, so Shen An held back his complaints.
Though he hated being forced into this, he saw it as a potential breakthrough.
Zhao Qingyu had repeatedly created problems for him, and Shen An wasn’t the type to turn the other cheek.
One thing was now crystal clear: When it came to Xu Yijing’s commission, Zhao Qingyu was an unavoidable factor.
To resolve that commission, he would have to address the conflict between Zhao Qingyu and Xu Yijing—at the very least, clarify their relationship.
Shen An could abandon the commission at any time, but a strange sense of amusement began to stir within him.
Zhao Qingyu loved toying with others. What would it be like if the player became the played?
The thought of her cold aloofness crumbling into desperate pleas on her knees promised the ultimate pleasure.
Very well, then.
The corners of Shen An’s mouth curved upward. He decided to play this game for real.
