Chapter 19: 019

After several twists and turns, the commotion finally died down.

When Song Guiya emerged from the changing room, Huo Yao and Xi Tongyue had already left. Gu Yuanyuan sat on the sofa, cradling her phone with a silly grin plastered across her face.

Spotting Song Guiya, Yuanyuan dashed over with quick steps and thrust her phone forward. “Sister Yaya, look! All those people cursing you have vanished. The internet’s now flooded with praise for you, and several temples and martial arts associations are scrambling to hire you as an instructor!”

Song Guiya blinked in slight surprise. “What?”

Yuanyuan launched into a vivid retelling of everything that had unfolded online.

A ripple of astonishment passed through Song Guiya’s heart upon hearing it, quickly giving way to a thread of confusion.

She was surprised that someone had captured the incident by the river that night and leaked it precisely tonight.

No matter if they clinched the Grand Finals championship or not, this video was a golden opportunity for Song Guiya to rebuild her public image. Handled right, it could catapult her career into a stunning reversal.

On top of that, Xi Tongyue’s face in the video had been blurred out—clearly premeditated.

It had to be Huo Yao’s handiwork.

What puzzled her was the Lightness Skill. It had blindsided everyone. Huo Yao charging in with a knife made it obvious even she hadn’t anticipated such a twist.

Dropping the video at this moment would only ignite the same wave of baseless skepticism and vitriol from netizens as half an hour earlier.

Without the official accounts stepping in to verify its authenticity, and without the endorsements from White Cloud Temple and Chongshan Shaolin affirming the reality of Lightness Skill, Song Guiya would have been sunk—unable to clear her name even if she jumped into the Yellow River.

The real question, though, was timing. All of this had gone down in under five minutes after her confession to Huo Yao.

Could Huo Yao really have rallied the police and those experts, convincing them to back her up, in a mere five minutes?

If so, her connections and capabilities bordered on the supernatural.

For some reason, the faint amusement that had danced in Xi Tongyue’s dark eyes onstage, when she’d tipped her off, flickered into Song Guiya’s mind.

“Song Guiya, there you are!”

The girl’s bright voice cut through the air. Song Guiya snapped back to reality and turned toward Li Xingruo and the other actors from Group B hurrying over.

Song Guiya offered a faint smile. “Looking for me?”

With the competition wrapped up, a bond of camaraderie had formed between them as collaborators. Li Xingruo shed her haughty pretense, bubbling over like an excitable girl next door. “Our group took the championship! We’re thinking late-night snacks to celebrate. Where’s that tasty restaurant you mentioned? Let’s check it out together.”

Song Guiya would rather tie up loose ends and head home early than join a celebratory meal. She opened her mouth to decline.

“Oh, right, Sister Yaya,” Yuanyuan cut in. “Sister Huo asked me to tell you she’s booked the victory banquet for you all at that Little South Forest you love. She’s heading out on a business trip with Teacher Xi tonight, so she won’t be joining.”

Xi Tongyue was leaving on a trip?

Song Guiya paused for a few seconds, glancing at the time. “That soon?”

Yuanyuan nodded. “Sister Chi Yu said Teacher Xi has a promo event in An City at nine tomorrow morning. If she doesn’t catch a flight tonight, she’ll miss it.”

The flight from Haicheng to An City ran over three hours, and with makeup, prep, and everything else beforehand, the schedule was brutally tight.

At best, Xi Tongyue could squeeze in four hours of rest.

A shadow flitted through Song Guiya’s eyes, vanishing in an instant. Then she said, “Sounds good. Let’s head to Little South Forest.”

A collective cheer erupted from the group, their excitement spilling over.

Little South Forest was one of South City’s most renowned upscale restaurants, strictly reservation-only—you needed to book at least a week in advance. Their ingredients were airlifted fresh from around the world daily, which meant prices far steeper than anywhere else.

Only folks pulling in seven-figure salaries could afford to dine there regularly.

They’d never dream of splurging like that on a meal.

Yet here they were, headed for a free victory banquet—not some skimpy tasting menu of a couple dishes, but the full spread, lavish and complete!

Totally worth the win.

Amid their glee, they couldn’t help but sneak peeks of envy at Song Guiya.

What a perk, signing with a Gold Medal Manager at a top-tier outfit like Kejin Entertainment—the benefits were off the charts!

Kejin Entertainment’s other artists, however, remained blissfully unaware of such treats.

Li Xingruo, one of the only two privy to the inside story, shot Song Guiya a glance and marveled inwardly.

Banquet reserved at Little South Forest before the match even started.

A win made it a victory feast; a loss turned it into comfort food.

Teacher Xi really knew how to spoil her.

Gu Yuanyuan, who scraped by on a monthly salary of three thousand, wore an astonishingly calm expression. She showed no particular reaction to the prospect of dining at Little South Forest.

Don’t ask why.

The reason was simple: one of Sister Yaya’s family chefs hailed from Little South Forest. Yuanyuan had been mooching meals there every day lately and was already on the verge of getting sick of it.

The girls gathered their things and headed out in small clusters. But just as they reached the door of the Makeup Room, they ran into Fang He. She had finished removing her makeup, and her strength had returned.

An awkward silence spread through the corridor.

Everyone exchanged uneasy glances, their eyes brimming with hesitation, inner conflict, and forced restraint.

The dilemma hung in the air: should they invite Fang He to the celebration banquet?

Her absence had nearly cost them the championship, and everyone nursed some lingering resentment because of it.

Yet they were a team, after all—two months of living and training together side by side. They couldn’t invoke “one loss for all” without also embracing “one victory for all,” especially not now.

Besides, Fang He was bowing at a perfect ninety degrees, her apology brimming with sincerity.

“I’m sorry, everyone. It’s all my fault. I don’t know what came over me—I just suddenly fainted… I don’t know how to face you all, but I swear it wasn’t on purpose. Please forgive me.”

Perhaps overwhelmed by emotion, Fang He’s voice grew choked toward the end.

The group was caught off guard by the scene, frozen and unsure how to respond.

The air hung silent for two long seconds.

“Xingruo…”

Fang He lifted her head, her tear-rimmed eyes pleading toward Li Xingruo. The delicate flicker in her gaze was utterly pitiable, stirring sympathy. “I can explain. I really didn’t mean to do it.”

Li Xingruo was proud by nature and never one to strike up conversations first.

Back with the program crew, she always kept a cool, distant face that kept others at bay. Only Fang He had ever made a point of approaching her, chatting her up to spare her the awkwardness of standing alone on camera.

These memories softened Li Xingruo’s resolve. She opened her mouth to speak but held back, turning her gaze instead to Song Guiya.

After all, this wasn’t her call alone.

As the other lead dancer, if Song Guiya voiced forgiveness too, no one else would object.

Only then could they truly put the matter behind them.

Fang He caught Li Xingruo’s intent. A flash of disgust and resentment crossed her eyes before she schooled her features into contrition once more.

“Song Guiya, I’m so sorry. I dragged you down with me. It was all because I skipped proper meals for three days straight to look good in the performance outfit. My blood sugar crashed, and I fainted. But I never imagined it would happen—I figured I could tough it out for two hours… Thank goodness you stepped up. We got the championship we deserved. Otherwise, I’d carry that guilt forever. I swear I’ll never let it happen again. Can you forgive me? If it helps, I’ll get on my knees right here.”

Tears welled in Fang He’s eyes, every word dripping with heartfelt sincerity. She fixed Song Guiya with an unyielding stare, as if a single “no” would drive her to her knees on the spot.

All eyes turned to Song Guiya, awaiting her verdict.

A beat of silence passed. Song Guiya’s face remained impassive, her voice edged with ice: “If apologies fixed everything, why would we need police?”

Fang He: !!!

The others: ???

Missing one performance wasn’t a crime worthy of that, was it?

Li Xingruo frowned faintly, on the verge of speaking, when a group of uniformed officers appeared at the far end of the corridor.

Shock rippled through the group.

What was this?

Who had called the cops?

It was the short-haired female officer they’d encountered once before—Captain Shen.

She strode directly to Song Guiya with a polite smile. “Miss Song, good to see you.”

Song Guiya gave a slight nod. “Captain Shen, I appreciate you coming.”

Shen Yan shook her head. “No thanks necessary. Just doing my job.”

With that, she turned to Fang He, her tone turning stern. “Fang He, we’ve received a report that you’re suspected of poisoning. Please come with us to the station for questioning.”

The words landed like a bombshell. Everyone but Song Guiya reeled in disbelief.

Fang He—poisoning?!

Who was she trying to poison?!

Fang He stood frozen, terror finally snapping her back to reality. She whipped her head toward Song Guiya, who stood resolute behind the officer.

Impossible. How did she know?!

Shen Yan repeated firmly, “Miss Fang, please come along.”

Fang He’s survival instincts surged. She shook her head frantically. “No! I didn’t do it! I never poisoned anyone—you’ve got the wrong person!”

Shen Yan’s sharp brows knit together. “Miss Fang, cooperate, please.”

Terror gripped Fang He.

Prison would ruin her life forever.

She refused to confess, backing away until she collided with the officer behind her. In blind panic, her voice sharpened into a shrill cry, all traces of her earlier fragile vulnerability vanished.

“Someone must be framing me! You have no evidence—how can you just arrest people willy-nilly?”

“Who said we don’t have any evidence?”