Chapter 41: The World’s Side Story (Part 2) Part 2

“Well, my grandfather and your maternal grandfather are good friends. He’s been in poor health and recuperating outside, but he only came back recently. He knows we’re in the same class, so he asked me to invite you to our house! Are you free after school today?” Liu Shanyan rattled off the long string of words in one breath and nearly suffocated herself. Then she cautiously glanced at Mu Yixuan.

Was the method that Academic Genius No. 2 had suggested really effective? Would Mu the Academic God really not brutally reject her?

Mu Yixuan packed up her schoolbag and stood. “I have time. Please wait for me a moment. I’ll buy a gift for the old gentleman.”

“Sure thing! No need for all that trouble. Just bring my grandfather some braised pig’s trotters from the place on East Street. That’s his absolute favorite!”

The rumors were spot on after all. The one who understood Mu the Academic God best was indeed Song the Academic God.

Liu Shanyan recalled Song Qi’an’s sunny, cheerful smile. To be honest, she felt an inexplicable fear. She always sensed a glint of gloom flashing in Song Qi’an’s eyes from time to time.

Everyone said the top two students in their grade were polar opposites in personality. Song Qi’an was outgoing, lively, and approachable, while Mu Yixuan was aloof and steady but kept everyone at a distance. However, Liu Shanyan’s uncanny animal-like intuition made her want to get close to Mu Yixuan while being utterly terrified of Song Qi’an.

From that day forward, Mu Yixuan had a little tail trailing behind her. When Nian Zhi’an was around, the three of them walked together. When she wasn’t, Mu Yixuan at least wasn’t walking alone.

But Eldest Miss Liu had no idea that her grandfather—out of pity for his old friend’s granddaughter—turned the Liu family into Mu Yixuan’s backer. He supported her entry into the Mu family company and helped her forge connections with Old Master Qian’s old contacts there.

In repayment to Old Master Liu, Mu Yixuan tutored his only granddaughter. She dragged the above-average but fun-loving Liu Shanyan across the finish line by the skin of her teeth, getting her into the same top university as herself and Song Qi’an.

Even in her thirties, when Liu Shanyan got drunk, she would recall those dark high school days and bawl her eyes out while clutching her bottle.

After starting university, Mu Yixuan and Nian Zhi’an were so swamped they could barely catch their breath. Even Liu Shanyan—who just wanted to enjoy college life—was forced into the grind by her two friends.

It couldn’t be helped. Liu Shanyan couldn’t fathom why her generation’s family heirs had to grind themselves to the bone. She didn’t want to grind, but she was the family’s only child. Her old man sighed every time he saw her, wishing he could infuse her brain with a bit of his two friends’ smarts.

In truth, Liu Shanyan was quite capable herself. But without comparison, there’s no damage. She lacked Mu Yixuan’s exceptional intellect, Nian Zhi’an’s accumulated experience bolstered by system support, and Long Chendong’s protagonist halo. Stuck in the middle of them, she just looked pathetic.

She scraped by to her senior year, then her own father forced her to handle some family business. Only then did she grasp how dire Mu Yixuan’s situation truly was. The Long and Song families had joined forces to squeeze the Mu family, apparently aiming to carve it up and swallow it whole. The ringleaders were the heirs of both families, and this had been going on for more than a day or two.

Mu Yixuan had never breathed a word of this to her. By the time Liu Shanyan caught on, she was already bolting out the door in her shoes to confront that smiling tiger Song Qi’an.

Damn it, all sunshine and smiles on the surface while stabbing her friend in the back?!

But when she tracked down Song Qi’an, the reply she got was: “You’re so adorably stupid.”

Song Qi’an even patted her on the head. Enraged, Liu Shanyan smacked her hand away.

“This is just the beginning. The Liu family is next. Silly girl, you think we’re playing house?”

The familiar smile was still plastered on Song Qi’an’s face, but the sunny, outgoing mask seemed to have vanished, exposing the madness few had ever seen beneath.

Tears of fury welled up in Liu Shanyan’s eyes. “You, you, you… Do you have any idea what Mu Yixuan’s going through? How dare you treat her like this!”

“You’re finished, I’m telling you! My grandfather isn’t dead yet! You won’t get away with it!” Liu Shanyan hurled her threats and stormed off. The Liu family’s influence was mainly in the north, and it had once rivaled the Long family. Sadly, once the protagonist arrived, everything else had to make way.

The Liu family was cannon fodder too—a stepping stone for the male lead’s northern business expansion.

“I thought she’d slap me,” Nian Zhi’an griped to the system hovering beside her.

【Don’t slack off. The male lead’s people are here. The project you’re handling is crucial—it’s the key to toppling the Mu family, and it can’t be allowed to fail. You know what to do, right? Your father needs to be reined in too. He’s been getting in the way lately.】

“Got it, got it. Sigh… Agent 007’s wage slave doesn’t deserve a break.” Nian Zhi’an let out a sigh, stood up, brushed off her skirt, and looked up at the impeccably dressed man.

“Hello. I’m Zhao Guangxu, sent by President Long to assist you.” Zhao Guangxu extended his hand.

“Hello.” Nian Zhi’an gave it a quick shake.

Zhao Guangxu appeared to be Long Chendong’s trusted subordinate. In the original storyline, he never betrayed the male lead. However, Nian Zhi’an had put in considerable effort to probe him and discovered he was a real opportunist. Offer him enough profit or enough pressure, and he’d sell out his old boss without hesitation.

The tool man for breaking the stalemate had finally been delivered straight to her by Long Chendong. Ever since falling under s-232’s thumb, Nian Zhi’an had grown fond of hiding everything behind a smile. This time, her smile deepened a touch—almost genuine.

After Nian Zhi’an ticked off Liu Shanyan and sent her running, Liu Shanyan went straight to Mu Yixuan to tattle. She accused Nian Zhi’an of her villainy and tried to make Mu Yixuan see the true despicable face of this schemer.

“Impossible.” Mu Yixuan told Liu Shanyan the same thing she’d told herself over and over before. “She wouldn’t do that.”

“What’s impossible about it? She’s clearly been blinded by Long Chendong! Haven’t you noticed how their joint projects give the Song family only a pittance of the profits? The rumors must be true! She’s nothing but Long Chendong’s lapdog!”

“Enough!”

Liu Shanyan jumped in fright at the sudden sharpness.

“Don’t get upset, but it’s really… You can’t keep being soft-hearted. Your position is already precarious enough. If she had even a shred of conscience, she wouldn’t abandon you now—instead of helping, she’s making things worse for you.”

After Liu Shanyan left, Mu Yixuan sat there lost in thought for a long time.

They had grown up together since childhood, so Mu Yixuan knew exactly what every frown, smile, or little gesture from Song Qi’an meant. She even remembered those habits that Song Qi’an herself hadn’t noticed better than Song Qi’an did. Thus, she could tell from Song Qi’an’s gaze and expression that there was no malice toward her at all.

How could a situation like this make her believe that Song Qi’an would harm her?

That was why, back when Qi An had a falling out with Long Chendong and the Song and Long families’ partnership fell apart, Mu Yixuan had nearly been unable to hide her secret glee. Song Qi’an had finally returned, and their lives seemed to go back to how they were in childhood—together all the time, except they couldn’t sleep in the same bed anymore.

But it wasn’t until that crucial bid failed that she learned it had all been an act by Song Qi’an, a play performed together with Long Chendong just to gain her trust and steal her company’s secrets. She had never realized the other woman was such a good actress; it was a real loss to the performing arts that she didn’t pursue it professionally.

The Mu Family was finished.

Their funding chain had snapped, partners withdrew their investments one after another, and Mu Xiong seemed to have foreseen it all. He pretended to yield to the Liu Family and handed the company back to her, but in reality, he cashed out his shares, divorced her decisively, and ran off abroad to live it up with his mistress and their son.

If the company truly went bankrupt, Mu Yixuan would be saddled with massive debts. All her family’s properties and such had long been sold off by her father for cash; she truly had nothing left to plug the holes.

But just when she had fallen into despair, a disheveled person clutching a stack of documents came running to her for refuge, fleeing for her life.

What goes around comes around, and sometimes it turns incredibly fast.

That project had gone wrong; the Long and Song families were dragged into the quagmire, while Mu Yixuan staged a stunning comeback after Liu Shanyan risked her father’s wrath—facing death if caught—to bring a huge sum of money to bail her out.

She now held secrets that would keep those two families down forever, but Mu Yixuan felt like she might be sick. Even at this point, she had only used those secrets against the Long Family; everything about the Song Family was locked away in a safe, and the Song Family had only nearly gone bankrupt due to the funding shortfall from the Long Family side.

But just a few days later, the Song Corporation’s scandals still broke.

Mu Yixuan immediately sent people to investigate who was behind it, and the result was surprisingly the Long Family.

This became the final straw that crushed the Song Corporation.

Mu Yixuan certainly could have saved the Song Family, but she didn’t want to let Song Qi’an off so easily. That bastard had to apologize and admit her wrongs—no matter the reason, she needed an explanation.

So she deliberately dragged her feet for a few days, until she figured it was nearly at the breaking point, before going to the Song Corporation to find her. But in the end, they parted on bad terms.

She didn’t understand why she always lost control upon hearing that the other woman liked Long Chendong. Mu Yixuan looked at the hand that had slapped Song Qi’an, a trace of regret stirring in her heart.

Just a tiny bit.

Mu Yixuan got back into the car with a cold face and told the driver to head to the company.

“You… came to an agreement so quickly?” The driver saw that Mu Yixuan’s expression was poor, her eyes even still rimmed red, and sensed something was off.

“No, let her cool off first.” She needed to cool off too. Mu Yixuan sent a message to her secretary, instructing her to handle negotiations with the Song Corporation on her behalf. “Let’s go back.”

“Alright.” The car had just pulled away when Mu Yixuan noticed in the rearview mirror that a crowd was suddenly gathering in the distance, faint screams seeming to carry over.

“Stop!” An inexplicable terror suddenly gripped Mu Yixuan’s heart, and she immediately yelled for the driver to halt.

“What’s… happening over there?”

“Looks like something went wrong.” The driver frowned.

“…Drive back and check.”

No, it couldn’t be—Song Qi’an had seemed full of energy just moments ago. It wouldn’t be like what she feared. Mu Yixuan comforted herself that way, yet she urged the driver to hurry.

“Someone jumped…”

“Who?”

“From the Song Corporation…”

“So tragic.”

These voices drilled into Mu Yixuan’s ears. She didn’t wait for the car to stop fully before shoving the door open and rushing over.

In the center of the crowd, a figure lay quietly on the ground, red blood soaking through her clothes and staining the earth.

She parted her lips, forcing herself to make a sound.

“An ambulance…”

“President Mu, this… President Song probably… probably…” Falling from such a great height, her body was no longer recognizable. There was no saving her.

“I think… President Mu!” The driver quickly steadied Mu Yixuan as she suddenly went limp.

Their President Mu seemed unwilling to accept this reality. She stayed with the body the whole time. An ambulance arrived soon enough, but just as the driver had said, she had died the instant she hit the ground. There was no saving her.

“My condolences.” The doctor said this to the woman who seemed to be the deceased’s family member or friend.

My condolences?

“She… she deserved it…”

The doctor almost thought she’d misheard, but upon seeing the young woman shedding silent tears, she sighed quietly and turned away.

“You think I wouldn’t give you a way out? That I’d take your life?”

“Song Qi’an! You have no conscience!” Mu Yixuan finally broke down and cried out loud.

I just wanted you to say a few soft words, that’s all.

Come back to life, and I won’t blame you anymore.