Chapter 51

On the way to the art studio, Yue Bai’s long-suppressed question finally bubbled up. She glanced at Sang Wan’s face and saw that she seemed to be in a good mood, so Yue Bai chose her words carefully. “Did something unpleasant happen between you and Senior Sister He?”

“Why do you ask?” Sang Wan’s expression remained unchanged as she gazed straight ahead. The campus was quiet during the holiday, with hardly anyone around.

“Uh… I was just a little curious.” Yue Bai gave an awkward smile.

Sang Wan let out a soft sigh, as if some unpleasant memory had surfaced. She fell silent for a moment before saying, “It’s nothing, really. She’s just… really repulsive.”

Yue Bai blinked in surprise. She never would have imagined hearing those words from her senior sister one day. Her mind flashed back to Zhou Qingyan’s comment about He Shichun being “a bit of a bad omen.”

What on earth had He Shichun done to earn such poor opinions from all these senior sisters?

Deep down, Yue Bai didn’t believe there was any real connection between her senior sister and He Shichun. The only thing that puzzled her was the faint hostility her senior sister directed at He Shichun—and He Shichun’s own intriguing attitude toward her senior sister in return.

Inside Painting Studio No. 3, He Shichun bent down with interest to examine the painting in front of her. A enigmatic smile played on her lips as she pressed her fingertip against the tape along the edge of the paper. “This is a portrait of Sang Wan, isn’t it?”

Hua Yun raised an eyebrow and glanced at it. The subject on the paper was unmistakable. He gave a casual hum of agreement.

“It’s painted quite well. Why didn’t Ah Wan take it home with her? Could it be that this little junior sister painted it without Ah Wan’s permission? Doesn’t she know Ah Wan hates it when people draw her portrait without asking?” He Shichun’s laughter grew even more delighted, as if she’d uncovered some delicious secret. She pressed on accusingly, “That girl must be someone Ah Wan temporarily roped in just to spite me, right?”

Hua Yun’s brow twitched. His patience was wearing thin. Jia Bing, who had been with him earlier, had left on some errand, leaving him alone to keep He Shichun company—a situation he wasn’t thrilled about to begin with. And now, hearing her say this only dredged up bad memories.

He could still vividly recall how Sang Wan had begged him and Wen Mo to put on that act with her on the sports field. For Sang Wan to go that far, the girl in question couldn’t possibly be some random stand-in.

Who did He Shichun think she was, anyway? He snorted derisively to himself. She was really thinking too highly of herself.

But on the surface, Hua Yun remained as mild and refined as ever. “I’m not entirely sure.”

“Really?” He Shichun didn’t seem convinced. “Even you don’t know?”

Hua Yun shrugged. “Sang Wan’s in the Music College, and I’m in the Art College. How could I possibly know everything about her business?”

He Shichun mulled it over and realized he had a point. Her gaze returned to the paper taped to the easel. With her pale fingers, she pried up one edge of the tape and slowly peeled it downward.

Hua Yun reached out to stop her. “What are you doing?”

“Tearing up this painting, obviously.” He Shichun stated it as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Then I can take the scraps to show Sang Wan and let her see what her little stand-in did behind her back. Do you think Sang Wan would still be so sweet and agreeable if she knew someone had painted her portrait without permission?”

A ripping sound echoed as He Shichun tore off the tape from the left side. Another tear followed for the right side. Only the top and bottom strips remained.

“Honestly, that junior sister’s got some real skill. It’s painted so well, I almost hate to ruin it.” He Shichun turned her head slowly, seeking Hua Yun’s approval.

But the young man’s face showed nothing but indifference.

“I’d advise you not to touch it,” Hua Yun warned. He strode forward in a few quick steps, snatched the partially untaped painting along with the easel, and held it protectively behind his back.

He Shichun looked at him in confusion, about to speak, when she caught sight of the person standing in the doorway. Her heart leaped with delight. “Ah Wan, what brings you here?”

Sang Wan’s gaze swept over the two of them in the studio before landing on the easel behind Hua Yun. “Hua Yun, what are you doing with that painting?”

Hua Yun clicked his tongue lightly and noted that she was alone. “Little Bai didn’t come with you?”

Sang Wan replied, “She’s in the restroom.”

“Oh.” Hua Yun felt a wave of relief that Yue Bai wasn’t there—it meant he didn’t have to hold back as much. “He Shichun was planning to tear it up.”

“Ah Wan, it’s a portrait of you, so that’s why I…”

“What’s wrong with it being my portrait? My girlfriend painted it for me. What right do you have to touch it?” Sang Wan’s face darkened. She kept her voice low to avoid being overheard from the restroom. “If there’s nothing else, head back to France sooner rather than later.”

“Ah Wan!” He Shichun couldn’t understand it. Back when she’d offered to paint Sang Wan’s portrait herself, Sang Wan had righteously refused, even sternly warning her that she hated being painted and would tear up any such portrait without hesitation. So why now…

“Enough. Don’t call me that—it’s disgusting. They might not know how vile you were back then, Wu Ling and the others, and they might put up with you good-naturedly, but I won’t. You think you can just run off abroad for a few months and come back like nothing ever happened?” Sang Wan’s usually gentle face was now etched with mockery and disdain.

If it weren’t for Wu Ling, Jia Bing, and the others being there today, she wouldn’t have bothered showing up for that so-called “welcome back for a friend” dinner.

Some things, she didn’t want broadcast to everyone—it would just be too ugly.

Sang Wan strode indifferently into the studio, took the easel from Hua Yun’s hands, and nodded her thanks to him. “Thanks for the trouble.”

“No trouble at all,” Hua Yun said.

“I admit what I did back then was wrong, but you weren’t hurt by it, were you?” He Shichun argued.

“Not hurt?” Sang Wan laughed as if she’d heard the most ridiculous thing. Her sharp gaze fixed on the woman two meters away, the mockery thickening. “So we can just pretend none of it ever happened? He Shichun, you’re as foolish as ever.”

“Senior Sister?”

Yue Bai’s clear voice rang out from the doorway, abruptly shattering the tense atmosphere. Sang Wan’s pupils contracted sharply. She took a deep breath, squeezed her eyes shut tight, and when she opened them again, the icy coldness in their depths was hidden away.

“Little Bai.” Sang Wan turned around, her voice gentle once more.

“Senior Hua, Senior He.” Yue Bai looked puzzled at the two extra people but greeted them politely before stepping to Sang Wan’s side.

“Hey, little junior sister.” Hua Yun grinned back.

“Hello.” He Shichun watched as Sang Wan’s expression flipped in an instant, her own eyes narrowing.

Caught between three seniors, Yue Bai quietly tried to make herself as unobtrusive as possible.

But He Shichun wasn’t about to let her off easily. A dangerous curve crept across her heavily made-up face.

Hua Yun sensed the shift in the air and thought about getting Yue Bai out of there first.

“Little junior sister, that painting of yours is fantastic. Any interest in doing one for me?” He Shichun beat him to it, stepping closer. Her pale hand reached out to grab Yue Bai’s.

Sang Wan tamped down her emotions, pressed down on Yue Bai’s shoulder, and pulled her into her arms. Her tone was even. “I’m afraid not. Finals are coming up, and she still has her end-of-term project to finish.”

With Yue Bai present, Sang Wan kept her words far more polite.

“Yes, Senior Sister. Next time,” Yue Bai said, lifting her head without a hint of servility. Her long, curled lashes fluttered.

On the way to the studio, her senior sister had said He Shichun was repulsive. That alone made it clear—her senior sister didn’t like this woman at all.

Anyone her senior sister disliked, Yue Bai disliked too. A spark of instinctive aversion bloomed within her.

“Fine, next time then.” He Shichun dropped the subject. She tilted her head toward Hua Yun. “Thanks for showing me around the Art Building. I’m heading out—see you tomorrow.”

There wasn’t a shred of genuine gratitude in her words; it sounded more like a brush-off.

As she reached the door, she paused and shot Sang Wan a meaningful glance. “Ah Wan, doesn’t it get tiring putting on that holier-than-thou, gentle act in front of her every day?”

Then she suddenly laughed. “Look at me, running my mouth. Don’t take it to heart, little sister.”

Without waiting for Sang Wan’s response, He Shichun sauntered off with light steps.

“Hah, couldn’t leave without one last dig at you.” Hua Yun kicked a nearby folding chair idly before plopping down onto it. He looked leisurely toward Sang Wan. “You okay?”

Sang Wan’s complexion was poor, her stunning features paling further at He Shichun’s parting shot. She hurriedly turned to Yue Bai. “Little Bai, I…”

“Senior Sister, I believe you.” Yue Bai cut her off. Mimicking how Sang Wan often stroked her hair, she reached up and ruffled the top of Sang Wan’s head. Blushing, she whispered, “I believe you.”

“Little Bai.” Sang Wan stared for a moment before grasping the hand in front of her and bringing it to her lips. “You cheeky thing.”

“Ahem.”

Hua Yun averted his eyes uncomfortably. Didn’t they see he was right here? Zhou Qingyan and Wen Mo had done the same thing in front of him before, all hugs and cuddles.

What kind of decorum was this? Were they just bullying him for being single?

Yue Bai suddenly remembered Hua Yun was there, and her already flushed cheeks burned even hotter. She ducked shyly behind Sang Wan.

“Sang Wan, if there’s nothing else, I’ll head out.” Hua Yun checked his watch. “It’s getting late—I have to run an errand.”

“Mm.” Sang Wan nodded.

Once Hua Yun had left, Painting Studio No. 3 held only Yue Bai and Sang Wan.

Sang Wan set the easel she was carrying back on the stand. Yue Bai carefully peeled off the remaining tape, and the paper fluttered down onto the wooden ledge of the easel.

“Senior Sister, look.” Yue Bai crouched halfway down, her slender finger pointing proudly to the lips of the figure in the painting. “These are the best lips I’ve ever painted.”

“Mm, they’re beautiful.” Sang Wan crouched down beside her. “Should I take that to mean you’re complimenting me?”

Yue Bai’s eyes curved upward in a mix of teasing and shyness. “Actually, it’s because I’ve experienced them firsthand, so they came out so smoothly.”

“Is that so?” Sang Wan propped her arm on her knee. Her gaze fell to one corner of the paper, where a piece was missing.

Damn it. She’d ruined Little Bai’s painting.

Yue Bai had noticed the spot too. She casually covered that corner of the paper and put it away. “Senior Sister, let’s head back and watch the movie.”

Sang Wan curved her lips in a smile. “Sure.”

As Yue Bai turned to head out the door, Sang Wan took advantage of the moment when no one was looking. She quickly bent down and scooped up the tattered fragment.

In the kitchen, Sang Wan dumped the remaining chicken feet into a pot of cold water and added seasonings to get rid of the gamey smell.

Yue Bai dragged over a stool and sat there like a foreman overseeing the work. Sang Wan saw how interested she was and didn’t mind if she got in the way.

“Senior Sister, have you ever made stuff like this for anyone else before?” Yue Bai couldn’t help asking, watching how deftly she moved.

“No.” Sang Wan cooled the freshly boiled chicken feet in cold water, deboned them, and wiped her hands with a helpless sigh. “You think I’m this patient with just anyone?”

Yue Bai chuckled. “Looks like I’m the only one who gets that honor.”

Once Sang Wan was nearly done, Yue Bai hauled the stool back to the living room. She eagerly grabbed two cans of cola from the fridge and fired up the computer.

When Sang Wan emerged, Yue Bai cracked open one of the cans and handed it over.

“I rarely drink cola.” Sang Wan took it without sipping and set it on the coffee table along with the glass bowl in her other hand.

“You should drink less of it too. It’s not healthy.” Sang Wan settled onto the sofa, picked up a bamboo skewer, speared a piece of chicken, and fed it into Yue Bai’s mouth.

“I don’t drink it much either.” Yue Bai’s words came out muffled around the food.

Sang Wan gently poked her puffed-out cheek. “Talk after you’ve swallowed.”