Shen Lianyao’s slightly heroic face showed a hint of surprise. She blinked in confusion, clearly puzzled by why Shen An and Wang Yuqiong had shown up here.
Her hair was a bit disheveled, and a fine sheen of sweat covered her forehead. She must have rushed over here, nearly missing the deadline.
Before Shen An could say a word, Wang Yuqiong covered her mouth and teased, “Who would’ve thought all three from Class 1 would make it? We’re just waiting on Song Rui now. If she joins the Art Troupe smoothly too, we could form our own little squad in there.”
After catching her breath for a moment, Shen Lianyao said hoarsely, “Am I too late?”
“Not at all—you’re right on time.” Wang Yuqiong stepped forward and pulled out a tissue, handing it to Shen Lianyao.
“Thanks.” Shen Lianyao took the tissue politely and wiped the sweat from her forehead. Then she glanced around. “Where’s the Art Troupe interviewer?”
“Right here.”
Wang Yuqiong playfully circled around to Shen An’s side and raised her little hand, pointing at the seated Shen An.
“Huh?”
Shen Lianyao’s surprise deepened, and Wang Yuqiong burst into giggles at the sight. “Pretty shocking, right? I jumped when I walked in and saw it too.”
“But Shen An here is a favorite of Senior Sister Zhao. Unlike us, who have to go through a proper interview, he’s been handpicked by her to handle interviews right off the bat. Talk about one giant leap up the ladder.”
There was a snarky undertone to her words.
Shen An opened his mouth to explain, but Wang Yuqiong shot him a glare and grinned. “You’ll have to take good care of us from now on, Shen An.”
From the look in Wang Yuqiong’s eyes, Shen An caught her real meaning: Try explaining, and you’re dead!
Heh.
Shen An glanced at Shen Lianyao, who was still looking puzzled, and thought it was amusing.
Senior Sister Zhao had given Wang Yuqiong a hard time the moment she arrived. Now that Shen Lianyao was here, Wang Yuqiong seemed eager to take out her frustrations on her instead.
It wasn’t that Wang Yuqiong planned to bully her like Senior Sister Zhao had—just that her words carried a strange edge.
There was no outright hostility, but the tension between the two was palpable.
Was there some friction between these two girls?
What made it even more interesting was how Wang Yuqiong’s teasing seemed aimed at Shen An, with nothing to do with Shen Lianyao on the surface.
Yet it subtly conveyed one key point: Wang Yuqiong saw herself as closer to Shen An than Shen Lianyao was.
And that was true enough so far. Shen An had only chatted with Shen Lianyao briefly during that class meeting.
That was what made it so intriguing.
The facts were plain, but Wang Yuqiong still emphasized it deliberately, like she was vying for his favor.
Shen Lianyao didn’t care about those twists and turns. Nor was she interested.
She looked straight at Shen An. “You’re the interviewer?”
Shen An cleared his throat lightly. “Yeah, for now.”
“Then let’s start the interview.” Shen Lianyao’s voice was soft but direct.
Straight to the point, she cut right in. Shen An nodded slightly. “Sure. Once you’re done, my job here’s finished for the day.”
Wang Yuqiong chimed in then. “You don’t mind if I sit here, do you? I’ve been standing outside for him for over an hour—my feet are killing me.”
She directed the question at Shen Lianyao, seeking her approval.
Shen Lianyao replied noncommittally, “The interviewer’s not me.”
Her implication was clear: Whether you stay depends on what the interviewer thinks.
Wang Yuqiong didn’t even need to glance at Shen An. “In that case, no problem. He won’t mind.”
Once again, she subtly underscored how close she was to him.
“Right?”
As if to drive the point home, she turned back to Shen An with exaggerated innocence.
Shen An shrugged. “As long as you stay quiet.”
“Got it~ I promise not to say a word.” Wang Yuqiong grinned and plopped down beside Shen An. Casually, she picked up Shen Lianyao’s personal info sheet.
Shen Lianyao wouldn’t have minded at first, but with the two of them sitting side by side, both looking at her, a sudden discomfort washed over her.
Shen An was the interviewer, but now that Wang Yuqiong had sat down, she looked like one too!
That unease had nothing to do with any intimacy between Shen An and Wang Yuqiong—their relationship was none of her business.
No, it stemmed from a sense of unfairness: She was their equal, in the same class, yet somehow she was being put below them.
They were the interviewers; she was the interviewee.
And after her loss in the class president election, Shen Lianyao kept a calm face, but inside, she grumbled.
Under the sway of those subtle emotions, she couldn’t help recalling the vote Shen An had cast for her back then.
From the current scene, Wang Yuqiong and Shen An seemed much more familiar and at ease with each other.
But in the class meeting vote, Shen An had chosen her over Wang Yuqiong.
His body in one camp, but his heart in another?
The old idiom sprang to Shen Lianyao’s mind unbidden.
Ugh, what was she overthinking? It was nothing worth dwelling on.
Composing herself, Shen Lianyao looked at Shen An and began her self-introduction in earnest.
Shen An listened quietly, his posture attentive and serious.
But as he listened, he couldn’t help comparing. Compared to Wang Yuqiong, Shen Lianyao’s “resume” was worlds apart.
Wang Yuqiong was the model student: class cadre from a young age, always active in school events, with long-term roles in school organizations.
By contrast, Shen Lianyao came across as far more ordinary—not inferior, just plain.
Her social life had been as cool and detached as her aloof beauty, utterly unremarkable.
No class cadre experience, let alone positions in school organizations.
That said, Shen Lianyao wasn’t aiming for the office anyway. Her target was the Dance Group.
It matched her “specialty” perfectly.
Though she had no roles in groups like the Student Union, she had been part of her high school’s dance club.
She had trained in dance her whole life—a true art student.
Why she chose the English Department over the Art Department in college wasn’t something Shen An needed to worry about.
After silently hearing out her introduction, Shen An followed procedure and asked her to demonstrate a bit of her talent.
Wang Yuqiong watched with eager interest, clearly looking forward to it.
Without a word, Shen Lianyao obliged and showed them what she could do.
The moment she struck her preparatory pose, Shen An could feel her aura shift dramatically.
If everyday Shen Lianyao was aloof and unapproachable—a beautiful “airhead” who sparked no further interest beyond her looks—
Then in dance mode, she burst forth with dazzling confidence, like the sun blazing in the sky, impossible to ignore!
That supreme self-assurance was something Shen An had seen in only one other freshman he’d interviewed.
The other was Wang Yuqiong, sitting right beside him.
Wang Yuqiong’s confidence came from her wealth of experience; Shen Lianyao’s from her mastery of dance.
In just a few moves, even without knowing much about dance, Shen An could see how she outshone the other freshmen.
Every gesture exuded not just elegant perfection, but a calm poise—a command of the stage.
That was crucial for any performer.
Many had great skill in private, but on stage, nerves or stage fright crippled them.
Often, that was the line between stars and backups.
Some were born for the spotlight, basking in the crowd’s gaze and thunderous applause.
Shen Lianyao was undoubtedly one of them.
No wonder, despite her reserved personality and poor social skills, the Art Troupe had fast-tracked her.
Her stage presence and self-assured performance more than compensated for any personal shortcomings.
History was full of artistic geniuses who were reclusive oddballs, shunning the ordinary world to focus on their craft.
They were destined to stand apart.
Finally, Shen Lianyao ended with a swan spreading its wings—her slender waist arching as she lifted her chin, embodying the white swan’s pride, along with unmatched grace and astonishing flexibility.
Shen An and Wang Yuqiong couldn’t help applauding, thoroughly impressed by the performance.
That prompted Shen An to ask, “Your dancing is incredible. You could easily go pro in it. Why pick the English Department?”
Wang Yuqiong shot him a surprised look. She shared the curiosity, but in this setting, it wasn’t the best to blurt it out.
Shen Lianyao was their classmate; they should respect her privacy, not pry under the guise of the interview.
Still, it wasn’t rude—just a tad inappropriate.
As the interviewer, Shen An could frame it as part of the process, and reasonably so.
Wang Yuqiong trusted his good intentions; he was just genuinely curious, no malice.
Shen Lianyao pulled out another tissue and wiped the fine beads of sweat from her forehead. In a low voice, she asked, “Is this question related to the interview?”
Huh?
Wang Yuqiong arched an eyebrow slightly. That answer came off as a bit rude.
Shen An chuckled lightly. “No, this is just a personal question of mine.”
Wang Yuqiong’s frown deepened.
“If it’s not part of the interview, then I don’t have any obligation to answer it.”
Shen Lianyao stood ramrod straight, facing Shen An directly.
“Are there any more questions?”
Of course, she meant questions related to the interview.
Shen An shook his head. “No, that’s all. Your performance was outstanding. That alone is enough to outshine the others.”
“Thank you.”
Shen Lianyao gave a slight nod. “If there’s nothing else, I’ll be going.”
“Alright.”
Shen An nodded with a smile. Shen Lianyao glanced at Wang Yuqiong. “Thank you for the tissue. I’ll pay you back with a fresh pack.”
With that, she turned and left, utterly poised and graceful.
She was just like Zhao Qingyu—came in a flurry and left just as quickly.
Once she was gone, the classroom held only Shen An and Wang Yuqiong.
Shen An let out a breath of relief. “Finally, mission accomplished. Time to clock out.”
As he spoke, he began sorting the files and documents on the desk, planning to head back to the Art Troupe afterward and hand them off to the person in charge.
Wang Yuqiong let out an unexpected laugh. Shen An turned to her. “What’s so funny?”
“Tch, you gave her your vote, and she doesn’t seem the least bit grateful.” Wang Yuqiong teased.
From Shen Lianyao’s demeanor just now, it was clear she held no fondness for Shen An—not even the most basic goodwill, let alone any closeness.
She really didn’t know how to play the social game.
Shen An shrugged. “Didn’t I tell you? Voting for her was my own call. I never expected her to owe me one.”
“Even so, you’re the only one who voted for her. She ought to at least feel a little indebted.”
Wang Yuqiong grumbled, clearly put out.
“Hey now, no need to keep such a precise tally. In the give-and-take of life, tallying every little thing just sets you up to lose out.”
Shen An flashed a carefree smile. “Besides, she might appreciate it deep down. My question earlier probably just caught her off guard.”
“Fine, fine, you’re the nice guy here.”
Wang Yuqiong stood up. “I’m going to hit the bathroom. Don’t you dare run off. Wait here for me—we’ll grab some food together after.”
“You got it.”
Shen An watched her go with a grin.
Creak. The door clicked shut.
Shen An propped his chin on his hand, his expression full of amusement.
So far, every girl he’d encountered—aside from Chen Nannan—had something a little off about her.
Xu Yijing and Zhao Qingyu went without saying. Wang Yuqiong was warm and tactful on the surface, but she was overly suspicious, always probing and scrutinizing, far too sensitive.
Shen Lianyao was the classic closed-off type, rejecting any attempt to get close.
Song Rui was relatively normal, but her excessive self-doubt kept her from recognizing her own worth.
Only Chen Nannan fit perfectly into the real-world mold—laughing, raging, all of it natural and unforced.
Was he really living out some kind of dating sim?
Only in a game setting would you get this many quirky characters orbiting the protagonist.
