Chapter 20: 020

Shen Yan took out her phone, pulled up a video, and held it right in front of Fang He.

The others crowded around as well, and Shen Yan didn’t try to stop them.

In the video, a sneaky figure suddenly appeared in the otherwise empty practice room. With their back to the camera, the person glanced warily left and right before heading toward the water dispenser. Seeing that no one was around, they swiftly lifted one end of the water bucket, poured an unknown liquid from a bottle into the gap, set the bucket back down, and fled in a panic.

But as they left, they turned directly toward the camera.

The practice room didn’t have any surveillance cameras. Song Guiya had captured the footage using the camera she normally employed to record training sessions for later review.

Before Li Xingruo had come looking for her, Song Guiya had already called the police and sent the video to Shen Yan.

The entire clip was less than a minute long, yet it was in pristine 4K quality, crystal clear.

Someone immediately recognized the person on screen and let out a shocked cry. “It’s Fang He!”

Another added, “She’s even wearing her performance outfit—like the time we finished doing our makeup and were about to head to the waiting area!”

Boom—

Fang He felt as though a thunderbolt had exploded in her mind.

She couldn’t believe her eyes and stood there frozen in shock.

The faces of everyone around her seemed to blur into a haze, and a crushing wave of despair swallowed her whole.

The video ended, and Shen Yan pocketed her phone. “On top of that, we’ve taken the water dispenser back to the station for testing. We should have the results soon.”

The evidence was ironclad. Fang He had no room left for denial. Her face went slack and wooden, tears streaming endlessly from her eyes.

Yet not a single person in the room felt any sympathy for her.

“Luckily, I don’t like drinking plain water. I stick to juice and sodas. Otherwise, I might’ve been poisoned. The thought alone gives me the creeps.”

“Yeah, good thing I always thought the dispenser was too grimy and only drank from bottles. This is terrifying.”

“You’re right—the thing was definitely ‘unclean’!”

Li Xingruo was equal parts terrified, furious, and regretful. She wished she could turn back the clock to the moment Fang He had apologized and she’d softened, then slap herself across the face—twice, hard.

She glared daggers at Fang He. “Why did you poison us?”

Fang He kept her head bowed and said nothing.

The usually silent Song Guiya finally spoke. “To be precise, the person she wanted to target was me.”

Everyone: ???

“It all goes back to last month’s rehearsal accident,” Song Guiya said, her gaze dark and heavy, her voice laced with ice. “My wrist suddenly gave out, and I couldn’t support Li Xingruo properly. We fell from the platform because earlier, I’d drunk from the bottle of water Fang He handed me.”

“What?!” Everyone gasped in shock.

So that incident hadn’t been an accident—or Song Guiya deliberately sabotaging Li Xingruo after all. It had been Fang He’s calculated scheme.

Thank goodness they were both tough; they’d only ended up with minor injuries.

Otherwise, Fang He would’ve been a murderer.

The idea of spending every day in the same room, chatting and laughing with a killer, sent chills straight down their spines.

And yet, no one had suspected a thing.

The Song Guiya from before really had died because of it.

Ignoring the stares from everyone else, Fang He gaped at Song Guiya in astonishment.

So she’d known all along that the water had been tampered with. Then why hadn’t she exposed her? Even with the entire internet turning against her, even trapped in the hospital and getting verbally torn apart, she hadn’t uttered a single word in her own defense?

Shen Yan looked equally puzzled, her expression grave. “You knew something was wrong with the water. Why didn’t you call the police back then?”

Song Guiya’s face remained impassive, though a flicker of dark fire seemed to burn in the depths of her eyes. She gave a faint shake of her head. “By the time I woke up, the evidence had already been destroyed. I couldn’t be one hundred percent certain.”

From then on, Song Guiya had played ignorant, acting as if she hadn’t noticed anyone gunning for her. She’d carried on with the show like normal, lulling the culprit into dropping their guard.

Sure enough, Fang He had tested the waters a few times, subtly probing. When Song Guiya showed no signs of suspicion, she’d seized the chance to set up a second “accident.”

“No wonder you switched to drinking from a thermos cup once filming resumed,” Li Xingruo said, realization dawning.

“So Fang He couldn’t tamper with your bottled water anymore and had to go for the dispenser instead! But what if someone else drank from it?”

Song Guiya shook her head slightly. “She must’ve been watching closely. During training, everyone prefers the convenience of bottled water. No one else ever really used the practice room dispenser—only me. And in the hours leading up to the show, no one else comes back here. I’d be the only one stopping by to refill before heading to the waiting area.”

Everyone let out sighs of dismay, though the fear still lingered.

Li Xingruo shivered, a cold sweat prickling her skin.

The poison might’ve been meant for Song Guiya, but she wouldn’t have been spared either.

In both the original choreography and the revised moves, without Song Guiya’s solid support, she would’ve plummeted off the stage too—badly hurt at best, dead at worst.

In other words, Fang He’s targets from start to finish had always been the two of them.

But why had Song Guiya said Fang He’s target was only her?

Li Xingruo hated bottling up her doubts, so she voiced it right away.

“Because no matter who my partner is,” Song Guiya replied flatly, “if they’re injured—or even killed—because of my mistake, I’m the one who can’t wash that sin off my hands.”

It wouldn’t matter if it was Li Xingruo or some random Zhang San or Li Si.

Li Xingruo froze, fragments of memory suddenly clicking into place.

Her dislike for Song Guiya stemmed partly from Fang He, who had quietly whispered bad things about her in Li Xingruo’s ear time and again, subtly poisoning her impression until she believed Song Guiya was rotten to the core.

Otherwise, why would she have snubbed Song Guiya the very first time she asked for help with a dance move? That cold shoulder had set the tone for their frosty encounters ever since.

From the start, then, Fang He had cozied up to her on purpose—to drive a wedge between her and Song Guiya. It was the perfect setup to later frame Song Guiya for “intentionally harming her partner.”

Then she’d sic Li Xingruo’s fans on her, whipping up a storm of public outrage to bury Song Guiya for good.

So Li Xingruo had just been disposable bait?

Her mind had never felt so clear. She walked slowly up to Fang He and swung with every ounce of strength in her body.

Fang He reeled from the blow, her head snapping to the side as five angry red fingerprints bloomed across her pale cheek.

Mindful of her position, Shen Yan stepped in to hold Li Xingruo back before she could do anything rash.

“Fang He, I thought you were my friend,” Li Xingruo spat, her pride and dignity in tatters, fury boiling in her chest. “And this is how you repay me? Guess I was blind!”

“Friend?” Fang He shot back, jerking her head up with a shrill screech. “Who’d want to befriend a high-maintenance princess like you? Li Xingruo, you worthless leech who can’t even wipe your own ass without Daddy’s money—what gives you the right to hit me? If it weren’t for Li—”

Her roar cut off mid-sentence.

Song Guiya and Shen Yan both frowned, catching the whiff of deeper secrets lurking in those unfinished words.

Li Xingruo didn’t register it at all. The word “worthless” had already shattered her self-control, and it was only the others’ quick intervention that kept her from lunging again.

Shen Yan seized on the slip and pressed Fang He for the real reason she’d framed Song Guiya.

Fang He clamped her lips shut.

With no choice, Shen Yan hauled her off to the police station for a proper interrogation.

Only after Shen Yan had said her goodbyes to Song Guiya and left did Li Xingruo’s senses finally return.

Tears shimmered in the corners of her eyes, her heart heavy with regret for everything she’d done. When Song Guiya’s gaze settled on her, words welled up—but none would come.

Everyone else stared at Song Guiya with complicated expressions too.

Song Guiya: ?

“Not going?” Song Guiya tapped her watch with long, elegant fingers. “Little South Forest closes soon.”

Everyone: !!!

A thousand mistakes, ten thousand wrongs—Little South Forest was blameless!

After a shock like that, only good food could mend their battered little hearts.

As the others headed to the parking lot ahead, Song Guiya paused by Li Xingruo’s side and gave her shoulder a light pat.

“That time you saved me… I knew it deep down,” Li Xingruo said, calmer now, summoning her courage at last. “But when the whole world turned on you, I never said a word to set things straight. Song Guiya… I’m sorry.”

Song Guiya carried the original owner’s memories.

All her life, the original owner had been crippled by her orphan roots—insecure, two-faced, people-pleasing, forever on eggshells.

She’d envied Li Xingruo fiercely, yearning to be as boldly proud and unapologetically herself.

Maybe that’s how it worked: we crave what we’re missing most, and cherish it above all. That’s why, in that dire moment, she’d thrown herself in harm’s way to shield something so pure and beautiful.

Had the original owner survived, they might have ended up the best of friends.

“Xingruo.”

Li Xingruo looked up. Song Guiya stood tall and poised, her bright eyes clear as crystal, that faint gaze softened with a gentle smile. “Without Fang He in the picture… would we have been friends?”

The words hit Li Xingruo like a splash of lemon juice—sour and meltingly tender all at once.

She flashed back to their first meeting: Song Guiya’s admiring gaze as she offered that star-shaped candy.

Wiping away her tears, Li Xingruo nodded solemnly. “Yes. Definitely.”

Song Guiya’s face broke into a radiant smile.

At least now the girl who’d once been Song Guiya could rest easy.

Outside the window, the night’s thick fog finally thinned, unveiling a scatter of twinkling stars.

“Let’s go—they’ll be waiting.”