Yes.
Su Qinghan’s heart trembled fiercely.
She had said it herself—she was the one who suggested going out, the one who proposed visiting the aquarium, the one who insisted Yan Yu come along for the meal.
Every single thing had been her initiative.
Every promise had been made by her.
Yan Yu was just there on invitation, quietly accompanying her for an entire day.
But now, with one call from Jiang Muyun, was she going to overturn all those promises?
She looked down at the phone screen.
The ringtone had been going for so long that it felt like it would never end.
Su Qinghan’s finger slid lightly across the screen.
The ringing stopped—not because she hung up, but because the other party did.
The screen went dark.
The words “Jiang Muyun” disappeared, replaced by a blurry photo on the lock screen.
Her finger hovered above the screen for a moment, then slowly lowered.
“Qinghan?”
Yan Yu’s voice came again.
Su Qinghan looked up and met those calm eyes.
“…It’s nothing.”
She spoke, took a deep breath, and tried to force her expression back to normal.
“Come on, weren’t we going to eat?”
She walked behind Yan Yu, gently gripped the handles of the wheelchair, her hands trembling slightly.
She convinced herself: ‘I’ll call her back later.
First, let’s eat.’
“Are you okay?”
She paused, then added, as if explaining or consoling herself:
“I’m fine.”
Yan Yu didn’t press further.
“Mm, Qinghan.”
Yan Yu’s voice came from ahead, soft and light.
She simply hummed in response, then sat quietly in the wheelchair, letting Su Qinghan push her toward the seaside restaurant.
The square’s lights flickered on one by one, stretching their shadows long and long—overlapping, separating, then overlapping again.
Su Qinghan pushed the wheelchair, step by step.
Her heart was more unsettled than ever, and there was fear.
Not fear of Jiang Muyun’s anger, but fear of herself—of that uncontrollable thing slowly growing inside her.
…
The dance club’s rehearsal hall was on the top floor of the teaching building—a nearly two-hundred-square-meter room.
The entire south wall was floor-to-ceiling glass windows.
Early summer sunlight poured in, spreading a golden glow across the floor.
Nine slender girls were rehearsing in the center.
The music’s tempo was slow.
Their arms traced arcs through the air.
Spin, leap, land.
The sound of their toes hitting the floor was as synchronized as if it came from a single person.
Slap, slap, slap.
Each beat landed precisely on the rhythm.
Bai Yan’er stood in front of the mirror, arms crossed over her chest.
She wore a tight black dance outfit, the neckline cut to her collarbone, revealing the elegant curve of her neck and a pale shoulder.
Her loose hair was tied up at the back with a black elastic band, a few stray strands falling from her ears and swaying slightly with her soft breaths.
The last note faded.
The girls finished the entire routine, breathing heavily, chests rising and falling.
They slowly withdrew their arms, relaxed their bodies from the stretched posture, and stood in a neat row, toes together.
One girl with a bun turned around, wiping sweat from her forehead with a towel, and looked at Bai Yan’er, who was standing near the door.
“Club President, how was that run?”
Bai Yan’er didn’t answer.
“Club President?”
The bun-haired girl tilted her head, raising her voice a little.
Bai Yan’er finally snapped back to reality.
“Ah, sorry.”
She blinked, pulling her gaze back from the window.
“I wasn’t watching.”
“Not watching?”
The bun-haired girl’s eyes widened with surprise.
“President Bai, what’s wrong with you?”
“Sorry.”
Bai Yan’er gave a bitter smile, her lips curving into an apologetic arc.
A short-haired girl standing nearby put down her water bottle, leaned in, and looked Bai Yan’er up and down with a knowing, sly look.
“President—”
She dragged out the last syllable like a detective revealing a major clue.
“You’ve been acting weird lately.
Your body is in the classroom, but your mind isn’t.
Your body is in the rehearsal hall, but your mind isn’t.”
“Really?”
Bai Yan’er tried to deny it.
“Really!”
The bun-haired girl nodded emphatically, hands on her hips.
“And it’s not just one or two days—it’s been days!
We’ve all been guessing what’s going on.”
The short-haired girl suddenly gasped, covering her mouth dramatically with both hands, eyes wide.
“Ah!
I get it!
Could it be…”
“Could it be what?”
the bun-haired girl asked in a matching tone.
“Could it be that our school belle Bai is in love?”
“Our school belle Bai is good at painting, dancing, and her family runs a business.
Who’s so lucky?”
This remark sent ripples through the rehearsal hall.
The surrounding girls who were stretching turned their heads, their faces glowing with gossip, ears perking up involuntarily.
“Really?
Is she dating?
Who?
Do we know them?”
“I knew it!
Lately, President has been spacing out by herself and smiling at her phone.”
“No, she wasn’t smiling—she was frowning.”
“Then she’s lovesick!”
“Wow, the school belle is lovesick.
This is like a drama plot.”
The girls chattered noisily, the rehearsal hall suddenly buzzing like a market.
Bai Yan’er was stunned for a moment, then quickly waved her hands, her bitter smile deepening.
“That’s not it at all.
You’re overthinking.
I’m really not in a relationship.”
“Really?”
The bun-haired girl’s drawn-out tone was full of suspicion.
She tilted her head, scrutinizing Bai Yan’er like a suspect.
“So you have a crush?
Still chasing?
Still pining?”
Bai Yan’er’s smile froze for a moment.
That instant was incredibly brief—barely a fraction of a second.
It wasn’t surprise or shyness, but a defensive reaction to having her secret exposed.
“Are you done resting?”
She quickly regained her composure.
“Let me run it again with you soon.
The transitions in that last run weren’t smooth enough, especially the landing after the third set of turns.
Four of you didn’t land at the same time.”
The topic was successfully diverted.
“Stop guessing wildly.”
“Anyone who landed first could hear it.”
The girls groaned in unison.
“President’s ears are too sharp—she can even tell who landed first.”
Still, under Bai Yan’er’s signal, they reorganized themselves.
The music started again.
Bai Yan’er stood at the front of the formation, facing the mirror.
She slowly raised her arms and led the group into another rehearsal.
Her movements were flawless—smooth, elegant, every detail perfectly placed.
Everyone in the dance club focused on her.
She was the brightest star.
No one knew that in that star’s heart, there was another person.
Yan Yu.
Bai Yan’er silently recited those two characters in her mind, like a mantra or a lifeline grasped in deep water.
Ever since she learned that Yan Yu had weekend plans, she couldn’t control her emotions.
But all she could do was wait—wait for Ruo Xiaozhen to send her news.
During a break, she walked to the window, turned her back to the others, took out her phone, and quietly opened Yan Yu’s Moments.
The screen refreshed.
A new post appeared at the top—no caption, just one sticker pack and a photo.
It was a steak lying quietly on a white porcelain plate.
The meat’s texture was clear, grill marks even, topped with a layer of dark brown sauce, garnished with a few basil leaves and half a cherry tomato.
Beside the plate sat a glass of red wine, with fine droplets of condensation on the glass.
The background was blurry figures.
Bai Yan’er stared at that photo, her pupils contracting slightly.
She zoomed in, examining every detail.
The tabletop was white marble, with a slender crystal vase on it.
In the blurry background, she could see dark leather booths and waiters in black vests…
Bai Yan’er wasn’t a food industry expert, but her eyes were sharp enough.
This wasn’t an ordinary restaurant.
The marble, the floral arrangements, the waitstaff’s attire—all were signs of a high-end establishment.
She could even roughly guess the price.
For two people, it would be at least four figures per person.
Who did Yan Yu go with?
Bai Yan’er’s mind raced through several possibilities.
First, she ruled out Ruo Xiaozhen—that careless girl probably hadn’t even heard of that restaurant, let alone taken Yan Yu there.
Dai Feng?
Bai Yan’er frowned.
She didn’t know Dai Feng well, but her sister’s relationship with her didn’t seem that close either.
Then—
Su Qinghan.
When that name surfaced, Bai Yan’er’s heart sank heavily.
She didn’t want to admit it, but it was the most logical guess.
Yan Yu still harbored feelings for Su Qinghan, so it wasn’t impossible that she’d taken the initiative to get close.
But Bai Yan’er didn’t want to see Su Qinghan and Yan Yu together.
Not for a single second.
Bai Yan’er flipped her phone over on the windowsill and closed her eyes tightly.
‘I need to understand Sister’s schedule more thoroughly.
I don’t want to go too far.
I keep reminding myself to maintain boundaries, not to rush, not to scare Yan Yu.
But ignoring this is definitely not my style.’
‘No matter who tries to take Sister away, I won’t let go.
Sister is mine.’
…
The rehearsal ended in the evening.
The girls scattered in twos and threes—some went for late-night snacks, some collapsed into chairs scrolling through their phones, some grabbed their bags and hurried out.
The rehearsal hall gradually emptied, leaving only the sound of the cleaning lady mopping and occasional voices from outside.
Bai Yan’er wiped the light sweat from her forehead as the message notification from Ruo Xiaozhen arrived.
Just as they’d arranged, Ruo Xiaozhen would message her as soon as Yan Yu got home.
The chat screen lit up.
[Ruo Xiaozhen: Bai, your sister came back at 10:30 PM! [spinning]]
[Bai Yan’er: How is she?]
[Ruo Xiaozhen: She’s in good shape, seems in a pretty good mood!
But when I asked who she went with, she wouldn’t say…]
Bai Yan’er stared at the words “pretty good mood,” and that string in her heart was plucked again.
Good mood.
She went out with that person and was in a good mood.
Her fingertip paused over the screen for a moment, then she typed a reply calmly.
[Bai Yan’er: Good.
I’m glad Sister got back safely.
Thank you for telling me.]
[Ruo Xiaozhen: No need to thank me!
Bai, don’t worry, I’ll take good care of Yan Yu!
[fist pump]]
[Bai Yan’er: Mm, I trust you.]
The message was sent.
Bai Yan’er walked out of the rehearsal hall and down the corridor.
That uneasy feeling still lingered.
In the darkness, she coldly dialed a number.
“Hey, it’s me…
Yes…
About the project Su Qinghan is in charge of, as I mentioned last time…
You can start making moves now.”
“Risk?
Hah…”
“Do I look like someone who’d be intimidated by a little risk?”
“I’ve got this handled.
Just do as I say.”
…
In another part of the city, in Yan Yu’s rental apartment.
Yan Yu sat in front of the dressing table, carefully removing her makeup in front of the mirror.
First, she soaked two cotton pads in makeup remover, placed one over each eye, and waited quietly for a few dozen seconds to let the cosmetics dissolve.
Then she gently wiped from top to bottom.
Mascara and eyeliner slowly transferred onto the white cotton pads, leaving black streaks.
Then the base makeup.
She massaged cleansing milk into her face in circles, gently and slowly.
The milky white consistency gradually turned skin-toned—the foundation and her natural oils emulsified.
She took a few tissues to wipe it off, then washed her face thoroughly with facial cleanser.
After washing, she pressed a towel lightly against her face to absorb the water droplets, not rubbing—afraid of hurting her skin.
She raised her head and looked in the mirror.
The face in the mirror was clean, without any makeup, yet still so beautiful it was hard to look away.
Makeup was just icing on the cake; even without it, her natural delicacy couldn’t be hidden.
She suddenly noticed one detail: the physical recovery reward the system had given her the first time was still continuously taking effect.
Her complexion was much better than before.
She could now stand for longer periods.
Though she couldn’t walk far yet, at least she could lean against the wall to walk from the bedroom to the bathroom and back without getting winded like before.
She smiled slightly at the mirror.
The girl in the mirror smiled back at her.
Just as she was about to lie down and rest, savoring today’s aquarium date with Su Qinghan, a crisp system notification sounded in her mind.
[Ding.]
[Key Plot Node “Aquarium Date” completed.]
[Story Restoration Score: 100 points.]
[Evaluation Details: The Host demonstrated perfect emotional control and pacing during the aquarium date.
From the gentle greeting at the meeting, to proactively guiding the conversation during the tour, to the heartfelt confession while gifting the keychain, all highly aligned with the character setting.]
[Current Main Quest Progress: 38%.]
[Reward Distribution: Emotion Recognition.]
[Activation Condition: Physical contact with the target.]
[Note: After equipping this skill, you can see through others’ deliberately disguised real emotions.]
[Whether it’s concealment, lies, or insincerity, you can see the true emotional undertone beneath the disguise.
Effectively using this information will allow you to always hold the advantage in your dealings with others.]