Jiang Muyun listened to what Song Jie and Juan Mao said.
She heard every word.
But the more reasonable these arguments sounded, the deeper the thorn pierced her heart.
“Pitiful.”
Jiang Muyun finally spoke, her voice hoarse.
She slowly raised her head, revealing bloodshot eyes.
“Yeah, besides being pitiful, playing the victim, and that face of hers, what else does she have left?”
As she said this, her fingers unconsciously tightened around the cup handle.
Song Jie and Juan Mao fell silent at the same time.
They exchanged a glance.
“If I hadn’t gone abroad back then…”
Jiang Muyun’s voice dropped, as if talking to herself.
“If I hadn’t gone abroad back then, Yan Yu would never have had a chance to get close to Qinghan…”
…
Speaking of Jiang Muyun going abroad, even now, when she thought back, there was still a thousand resentments and a million grievances pressing down on her heart.
During high school, she attended an ordinary private school.
Back then, Jiang Muyun believed she had extraordinary talent in art.
In sketching class, the lines she drew were smoother than her peers’.
In color class, her control over hues made the teacher nod repeatedly.
An old professor who taught art classes especially appreciated her, often publicly praising her work in class, saying she had “spirit” and was “rare.”
These compliments acted like an expander, inflating her self-confidence more and more.
She began to feel she was different, that she was a pearl covered in dust, a dragon trapped in shallow water.
She told her father that she would achieve great feats in art, become the contemporary Picasso—no, even more dazzling than Picasso.
She wanted the whole world to see her name.
So she insisted on going abroad to study at a professional art school.
At that time, Su Qinghan had barely found her and had just become friends with her.
The relationship between them was still shallow, so shallow that Jiang Muyun felt she could walk away at any time.
She didn’t care much about Su Qinghan.
Just another girl studying—what weight could she have?
For the sake of her own career and dreams, Jiang Muyun made her decision.
She would go abroad, to that broader hall of art, and become a famous artist!
Before leaving, Su Qinghan came to see her.
Although she didn’t say it outright, Jiang Muyun could tell that Su Qinghan had feelings for her, even liked her.
But she rejected her.
She didn’t spell it out, just used excuses like “I’m going to chase my dream” to brush her off, telling Su Qinghan that there was no possibility between them.
She didn’t even pay much attention to Su Qinghan’s expression at the time, didn’t care whether Su Qinghan was sad or disappointed.
Because she believed she would shine brilliantly abroad.
By then, the world would applaud her.
What was Su Qinghan compared to that?
She wasn’t worthy of her.
That was her true thought at the time.
But reality slapped her hard in the face.
The art schools abroad were completely different from what she had imagined.
The little cleverness and little talent she prided herself on were nothing in front of true top-tier art institutions.
Her submissions were rejected again and again.
The paintings she had been so proud of for so long were merely “mediocre” in the eyes of the professors.
She couldn’t even get into any real art school.
The schools she had once looked down on, thinking she could “get in easily,” didn’t even bother to look at her portfolio.
After suffering setbacks and hitting her nose against the wall, Jiang Muyun had to return home.
The arrogant, haughty drive she had before going abroad was now worn down to almost nothing.
She began to become realistic, reexamining everyone and everything around her.
Then she thought of Su Qinghan again.
This time, her perspective was completely different.
She didn’t just see Su Qinghan’s looks and appearance—she had known those things long ago.
She saw Su Qinghan’s family, the Su family’s industry, Su Qinghan’s identity as the eldest daughter of the Su family.
Su Qinghan was the daughter of a wealthy family.
After realizing this, Jiang Muyun reformed completely—at least, that’s what she believed.
She wanted to get close to Su Qinghan again, to make up for the “missed opportunity” back then.
But when she approached with high expectations, she found another person standing by Su Qinghan’s side.
A girl sitting in a wheelchair, with a face somewhat similar to hers.
At that moment, you can’t imagine how angry Jiang Muyun was! 😡
‘In Jiang Muyun’s understanding, Su Qinghan was supposed to like her.’
‘Even if she went abroad, even if she rejected Su Qinghan’s pursuit, so what?’
‘Shouldn’t Su Qinghan still like her?’
‘After all, she was Su Qinghan’s lifesaver.’
‘From the moment Su Qinghan owed her, it had become an inevitable conclusion.’
‘So now, every existence of Yan Yu was a betrayal of her.’
‘Every glance Su Qinghan gave Yan Yu should have belonged to her.’
‘Every time Su Qinghan defended Yan Yu should have been for her.’
‘The position beside Su Qinghan was originally hers.’
‘It was all Yan Yu’s fault.’
‘All Yan Yu’s fault.’
…
Thinking back to this point, Jiang Muyun couldn’t help but grit her teeth, her gums itching with anger.
That name rolled on her tongue before she swallowed it back, but the fire in her heart burned even fiercer.
“So is this why you haven’t been chatting with Miss Su lately?”
Song Jie asked from the side.
Jiang Muyun didn’t speak.
Silence was the best answer.
Juan Mao looked at Jiang Muyun’s expression, then at Song Jie, sighed, leaned in, and lowered her voice.
“Oh, Song Jie, you just don’t get it.”
Song Jie scratched the back of her head.
“How don’t I get it?”
With the expression of someone who’d been through it, Juan Mao said earnestly,
“That’s how love works. Miss Su, even though she’s a girl, she’s pretty straightforward. Some things—if our Muyun doesn’t do them, she won’t understand.”
She paused, raising a finger.
“Think about it. That day she publicly defended Yan Yu and didn’t take Muyun’s side. Muyun was already very angry. If she just went up to her like nothing happened, what if next time Miss Su goes and favors her ‘ex-girlfriend’ Yan Yu again? What would Muyun do then?”
Song Jie scratched her head again, frowned, and thought for a moment.
“But… Muyun isn’t even dating Su Qinghan, right?”
“That’s a different matter.”
Juan Mao waved her hand, her tone certain.
“Even if they’re not dating, isn’t it a done deal that she’ll win Su Qinghan over? Right now, what our Muyun wants is an attitude from Su Qinghan.”
She lowered her voice, as if imparting some profound worldly wisdom.
“Think about it. The Su family has such a huge business. If Muyun and Su Qinghan get together too easily, Su Qinghan won’t treasure this love. So our Muyun is being clever.”
Song Jie’s frown didn’t ease.
She still felt something was off, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.
She opened her mouth, didn’t argue with Juan Mao, but turned to look at Jiang Muyun, her tone softening.
“Alright, Muyun. If you want to be angry, be angry. If you want to give Su Qinghan the cold shoulder, do it. But don’t let it hurt yourself.”
She rubbed her hands together, a flattering smile appearing on her face, as if remembering something pleasant.
“Hey, by the way… that card Su Qinghan swiped for you last time—does it still have money left? Next time, take us both to buy some clothes.”
Jiang Muyun looked up, shot her a glare, and snorted coldly.
“I’ll think about it when I’m in the mood.”
She left her nearly untouched coffee cup where it was, stood up, slung her bag over her shoulder, and walked away without looking back.