“What are you doing?”
Shen An covered the sore spot on his chest with one hand while clutching Wang Yuqiong’s offending hand with the other.
Wang Yuqiong stared at him in speechless exasperation, wondering if her earlier surge of emotion had all been for nothing.
She had even put on a brave front in front of Zhao Qingyu for his sake.
“Can’t you show a little concern?” Wang Yuqiong shook off his hand, snapping irritably.
“I am concerned!” Shen An shot back. “But I was pressed up against the door crack and couldn’t hear a word you two were saying. My concern didn’t do a damn thing.”
“Look what you did—it’s all bruised!”
Unable to resist, Shen An pulled back his collar for a quick peek at the damage. Sure enough, amid the expanse of pale skin, a vivid purple bruise stood out glaringly.
Wang Yuqiong slapped a hand to her forehead and huffed in coquettish annoyance. “Pervert!”
“I won’t hold that against you for now.” Shen An straightened his collar and turned serious. “How’d the talk go with Senior Sister?”
“What do you mean, ‘how’d it go’? It wasn’t a negotiation—we were just chatting things over.”
Wang Yuqiong didn’t want Shen An knowing about her actual relationship with Zhao Qingyu.
“So, how’d the chat go?”
“Well… the Discipline Department doesn’t have much going for it anyway. Staying with the Art Troupe isn’t so bad.” Wang Yuqiong murmured her concession.
Shen An rolled his eyes. “You were so bold back there—I thought you’d found some clever solution. Turns out you just caved to her intimidation?”
“Pfft, easy for you to say. You’re no different—you nod and bow in front of her too.”
Wang Yuqiong bared her teeth in a mocking grin. Shen An bristled at that. “Nod and bow? I was just showing appropriate deference. No need to make a big deal out of it.”
“Yeah, sure—you’re so generous, always big-hearted with everyone… except when it comes to nitpicking me!”
Wang Yuqiong’s temper flared as she spoke. Unable to hold back, she swung one long leg up for a light kick.
“Ow~”
Shen An reacted swiftly, grabbing her leg before it made contact.
He took a closer look, then glanced down at the Model Group members’ long legs on the T-stage below. A gleam of appreciation flickered involuntarily in his eyes.
This one-seventy-eight frame was worth every inch—those legs alone took up more than half of it.
Too bad she was in jeans. The perfect curves they outlined were tempting enough, but they couldn’t match the shocking allure of the bare expanses of pale skin flashing on the models below.
Wang Yuqiong didn’t notice at first. Then she caught the lecherous glint in his gaze.
“Disgusting!”
She glared daggers, teeth gritted, and tried to yank her leg free—but his grip held firm.
“Everyone appreciates beauty.”
“Pah! Let go already!” Wang Yuqiong snapped in fury.
“No way. You’ll just try to kick me again.” Shen An stayed on guard. “These old wounds haven’t healed yet. A few more hits from you, and I might end up hospitalized.”
Wang Yuqiong laughed in angry disbelief and rolled her eyes. “What’s so bad about the hospital? You hate classes so much—a hospital stay means sick leave, no classes at all.”
“Classes are boring and dull, sure… but compared to a hospital, I’d take them any day. I hate hospitals.”
“Why? Did something traumatic happen to you there?”
“Yeah, I nearly died in one.” Shen An brushed it off casually.
Wang Yuqiong’s expression froze for a moment. She lowered her head and murmured, “Let go. I promise I won’t kick you.”
“You promise?”
“I promise!”
“Swear it then.”
“Shen An!!”
“Fine, fine—I’ll let go.” Shen An released her long leg, still a bit reluctant.
“You’d look even better without the jeans.”
He sighed wistfully.
“You’re really pushing your luck now. Should I go full model too—strut around in a miniskirt and strike poses for you?”
Wang Yuqiong’s voice dripped with resentment, laced with disdain for his sleazy ways.
She meant it innocently enough, but he took it to heart.
Shen An narrowed his eyes, staring intently at the legs hidden beneath her jeans. In a miniskirt…
“No need for that. A miniskirt would actually cramp the style of those legs. Swap it for black stockings, though—that’d be killer.”
“Pair ’em with high heels? Chef’s kiss.”
Wang Yuqiong’s mouth twitched. “You’ve got some nerve dreaming that up.”
“Why not?” Shen An said earnestly. “Humanity’s greatest strength is our boundless imagination!”
“Enough nonsense—get in there. She’s got something to tell you.” Wang Yuqiong nodded toward the office, lowering her voice.
“Huh? Didn’t you two already sort things out?”
“We did. But you and her? Not yet.”
Wang Yuqiong arched a brow playfully with a grin.
“Alright then. Wait here for me.”
Shen An waved and turned to open the door, stepping inside.
Wang Yuqiong watched the models catwalking on the T-stage, then sneaked a glance at her own long legs. She frowned slightly. “Black stockings, huh?”
So that’s what this guy’s into.
Shen An closed the door behind him, feeling a touch awkward. “Senior Sister.”
Zhao Qingyu shot him a sidelong glance. “Nervous?”
“No, no—not at all.”
“Hmph. Let’s see—this is the second time you’ve pulled that stunt to threaten me. You’ve got some guts.” Zhao Qingyu grumbled, still sore about it.
“Hey, I didn’t want to either. But Senior Sister, can’t you ease up a bit?”
Shen An sighed, trying to reason with her patiently. “Take a step back, and the seas and skies open up. Why push so hard? It’s not worth it.”
“Even a cornered dog jumps the wall—not to mention a person.”
Zhao Qingyu scoffed lightly. “Looks like you really value your so-called friends.”
“Uh…” Shen An shrugged candidly. “Friends are hard to come by. Of course I cherish them.”
“Senior Sister, you don’t need to get so mad. I wasn’t trying to blackmail you—I was just making a point.”
“If you ever end up on the side of reason someday, I’d have your back too.”
Zhao Qingyu paused, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Reason? What even counts as reason?”
“She’s got her reasons, you’ve got yours—what makes yours the standard?”
“Sounds like you’re just going by your own logic.”
“Since that’s how you see it, Senior Sister, I won’t argue.” Shen An chuckled lightly. “But the offer stands—if you’re ever in that spot, I’d help you out.”
Zhao Qingyu’s eyes narrowed as she peered at him closely. “Is that a promise?”
“Uh… does it have to be that formal?”
“Of course.” Her voice softened. “It’s the first time anyone’s said they’d help me. Feels weird… but kinda touching.”
Shen An scratched his head. “Come on, Senior Sister, don’t joke around.”
Zhao Qingyu covered her mouth as she laughed. The smile was genuine, though a fleeting trace of loneliness shadowed her eyes.
She wasn’t joking.
It really was the first time anyone had offered to help her.
Ever.
“Fine, I won’t hold it against you.” Zhao Qingyu cleared her throat lightly, her enchanting allure returning to her features. “I called you in for two things.”
“First off, congrats—you passed the final interview. You’re officially in the Art Troupe now.”
“I’ve assigned you to the Office… as my private secretary, no less.”
“Private secretary?” Shen An caught the unabashed amusement in Zhao Qingyu’s gaze, a bad feeling stirring in his gut.
“That’s right—my private secretary. Officially, you’re an ordinary staff member. But per Art Troupe rules, you’re on equal footing with the other presidents.”
Zhao Qingyu propped her chin on her hand, beaming. “I arranged this specially for you. Like it?”
Shen An’s mouth twitched, his eyelid jumping. “Like it? How could I not…”
“But I’m not sure I can handle such a big responsibility. I’m green—no real experience. The other presidents might have something to say about it.”
Zhao Qingyu clucked her tongue in mock wonder. “You’re a weird one. Love being ordered around, huh? I hand you a chance to boss people, and you balk?”
“Too humble when you shouldn’t be, too proud when you should humble up. You’re not very savvy.”
“No, no—I just think my experience is too shallow for the role.” Shen An waved his hands frantically.
Zhao Qingyu’s lips curved up as she chided him softly. “You’re my private secretary—not theirs. What does experience have to do with it?”
“Whether you can handle it is up to me. And I say you can.”
“Well then, since you think so highly of me, Senior Sister, I’ll do my best.”
At this point, Shen An knew resistance was futile.
In the Art Troupe, Zhao Qingyu was the undisputed queen.
Any more dodging would just make him look ungrateful.
“Mmm~ From now on, just follow my orders. Ignore everyone else. Got it?”
“Uh…” Shen An muttered, “What about the Student Union…”
Zhao Qingyu’s smile vanished, her tone turning icy. “You mean Xu Yijing?”
“You’re overthinking it, Senior Sister.”
“I don’t care if I’m overthinking or you’re fishing for info. Remember my orders—you answer only to me. That’s enough.”
The charm in Zhao Qingyu’s eyes hardened into steel. “Don’t worry about the Student Union. If there’s trouble, I’ll handle it.”
“Clear?”
“Crystal.” Shen An nodded obediently.
“No need to make that face.” Zhao Qingyu slowly rose to her feet and walked over to Shen An’s side, chuckling lightly. “I only said you don’t have to follow the Student Union’s orders. I didn’t say you can’t associate with people from the Student Union.”
With your position, you’ll have plenty of chances to deal with the Student Union’s other departments—including the leadership—in the future.
“So, what’s the rush?”
Shen An kept his smile in place and nodded.
“Senior Sister, is there one more thing?”
He asked.
“The second matter is to have you handle the interviews and recruitment in my stead.”
Zhao Qingyu circled the room once before returning to her seat.
“Interviews again?” Shen An frowned.
“This time it’s different,” Zhao Qingyu said softly. “The previous interview I assigned you was just for the special batch of freshmen.”
“This time, it’s for all the freshmen, including the regular batch.”
“Of course, I’m not asking you to make the selections—you don’t have that authority yet. I just want you to participate.”
“Think of yourself as a president for now. You’ll have the right to participate, speak up, vote, and even exercise some decision-making power.”
“Then compile all the materials and details into a report and hand it over to me.”
Shen An finally got it.
Manual labor again!
Just the high-level kind this time.
But he couldn’t refuse, because Zhao Qingyu continued, “Didn’t you always want to get your other classmate into the Art Troupe?”
“Whether she joins or not is up to you, Secretary Shen.”
Earlier, Shen An had linked himself with Song Rui to pressure Zhao Qingyu.
Now she simply obliged him, turning his own momentum against him and leaving him without a single excuse to back out.
“Got it.”
Shen An sighed and nodded.
“Make sure you remember—it’s not just the interviews, but recruitment too.”
Zhao Qingyu said softly, “Our Art Troupe has a stellar reputation. We don’t need to hand out flyers everywhere like those failing clubs, hawking for members like street vendors.”
“But tradition calls for making the rounds, checking the dorm buildings, that sort of thing.”
“Consider it a perk for you, though.”
Zhao Qingyu’s smile turned teasing. “Our school is full of girls, and most of the dorms are girls’ dormitories. You haven’t seen the inside of one yet, have you?”
Shen An kept smiling outwardly while grumbling silently to himself: Not only have I seen them—who knows how many nights I’ve spent sleeping in girls’ dorms.
“Alright, that’s everything. I’ve handed it all off to you.”
Zhao Qingyu waved him off, ready to send him on his way.
“Uh… Senior Sister…” Shen An hesitated. “Aren’t there any formalities for joining the troupe?”
“Of course there are, but I’ve already taken care of yours.”
Zhao Qingyu said gently, “Head over to the Publicity Department later to pick up your member ID card. You’ll need to swipe it for entry and exit from now on. Keep it safe—replacing a lost one is a real pain.”
“Got it. So… do I need to pull duty shifts or anything?”
Shen An asked again.
“Duty shifts?”
“Yeah, I just heard Senior Sister Qi mention that some departments require them.”
“Oh, you don’t have to, but you can if you want.” Zhao Qingyu smiled faintly. “Call it a little perk from me—gives you more freedom, no real constraints.”
“Thanks…” Shen An couldn’t help sighing inwardly once more.
Now he really had no free time left.
With his heavy class load, plus handling interviews and recruitment, he half-wished he could learn the Shadow Clone Technique.
