This period of waiting was laughable and pathetic, yet it persisted stubbornly, flickering like a candle in the wind.
Not long after, the light at the entrance to the painting studio was blocked by two figures.
Su Qinghan walked in, holding the hand of Jiang Muyun, whose eyes were red and swollen and who was still sniffling occasionally.
Seeing this, Huang Lu hurried forward, wanting to explain a few things.
However, Su Qinghan raised a hand to signal he needn’t say more.
Her gaze went straight to Yan Yu, who was in front of the drawing board by the window.
Contrary to Jiang Muyun’s expectations, Su Qinghan did not immediately step forward to question or blame Yan Yu.
She released Jiang Muyun’s hand and walked directly to the side of Yan Yu’s drawing board.
Under the surprised gazes of everyone, she slowly half-knelt beside the wheelchair, bringing her line of sight level with Yan Yu’s.
This posture subtly closed the distance between the two.
“Yan Yu,” Su Qinghan spoke, her voice as calm and detached as ever, betraying no extra emotion, “What exactly happened?”
The fingers holding Yan Yu’s paintbrush tightened almost imperceptibly.
She then stopped her movements, slowly turned her head, and met Su Qinghan’s deep gaze.
“As you can see,” Yan Yu’s voice was flat and distant, “My painting was ‘accidentally’ damaged by Miss Jiang and requires significant time to modify and cover up.
“My volunteer service hours deadline is five PM this afternoon, and I have personal arrangements afterward.
The remedial work can only be completed by her alone.”
She was concise, offering not a single word of complaint, let alone unfounded accusations.
She was merely stating the facts calmly.
Su Qinghan listened quietly, her gaze sweeping over the jarring mess on the painting.
Jiang Muyun at the side immediately grew anxious and hastily interjected with a tearful voice, “Qinghan, I know it’s my fault for ruining the painting, I really didn’t mean to! I’ve already apologized, and I genuinely want to help fix it… But Yan Yu just won’t relent, she’s not leaving any room for consideration at all…”
Su Qinghan raised her hand, signaling Jiang Muyun to calm down first.
She then looked back at Yan Yu, remained silent for a few seconds, and then made a move that no one present had anticipated.
She reached into the side pocket of the briefcase she carried and pulled out a bank card.
It was just an ordinary savings card.
Su Qinghan extended the card towards Yan Yu.
Her voice remained steady, yet it held a hint of complexity even she herself hadn’t fully realized.
“Take this.
I know you’re currently in financial difficulty, perhaps even struggling to afford medical expenses.
We… after all, had a past.
There’s some money in this card.
Take it, and take good care of yourself from now on.”
She paused, her gaze lightly sweeping over Yan Yu’s pale, thin cheeks before landing on the wheelchair beneath her.
Her tone softened slightly:
“Muyun just returned from abroad.
Her family has always spoiled her; she hasn’t experienced hardship, so her temperament is inevitably a bit pampered.
If you accept this money, and if you encounter similar situations in the future, please be more accommodating towards her.
Don’t let her be too upset, alright?”
The studio instantly fell into a dead silence, so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
Everyone was stunned, even Jiang Muyun looked utterly bewildered.
She never expected Su Qinghan to react this way.
No reprimanding Yan Yu, no completely siding with her either.
Instead, using this method, she both offered “compensation” and implicitly issued a warning.
Yan Yu looked at the bank card extended before her.
The cool plastic edge almost touched her fingertips.
In an instant, a cold tide seemed to surge wildly from the soles of her feet, instantly drowning her heart and freezing her entire body.
That faint, laughable, and pitiful hope, like a spark thrown into ice water, was extinguished with a hiss, not even a wisp of smoke remaining.
She had still foolishly hoped that Su Qinghan, who had dated the Original Host for three years, might ask for the reason, might be fair for once.
Turns out, the fairness she spoke of was nothing more than using money to buy her silence, to pay for Jiang Muyun’s “pampered nature” and “accidents.”
“Had a past.”
“Be more accommodating.”
“Don’t let her be too upset.”
Each word pierced precisely into her already battered self-esteem, made abnormally sensitive by the Original Host’s lingering emotions.
So, in Su Qinghan’s eyes, her three years of cautiousness, her suffering from illness, even her current ruined hard work and effort—all of it could be measured with money.
And all her persistence and principles, in the face of Jiang Muyun’s “delicacy,” became immature and unseemly troubles that needed to be “handled” with money.
A stinging laugh surged in her throat; she almost let out a cold laugh right then and there.
See, this was the person the Original Host had once looked up to, even loved pathetically.
Yet in this person’s eyes, the Original Host was merely an insignificant person who could be dismissed and resolved with money.
Even having her dignity hurt could be brushed off like this with money.
Su Qinghan simply didn’t take her seriously, not in the slightest.
This was the reality she now had to face.
She slowly raised her eyes, looking at Su Qinghan, who was half-kneeling before her with a calm expression.
The corner of Yan Yu’s mouth slowly curled up into an extremely small arc.
Fine.
After all, she, Yan Yu, wasn’t here for romance.
If Su Qinghan wanted to be cold, then let her be cold.
As long as she collected her rewards, as long as she waited for the day she could stand up from this wheelchair, everything should end.
She would never have to act so pathetically in front of Su Qinghan again.
She opened her mouth, about to speak—
But a figure moved faster than her, stepping between her and Su Qinghan.
The figure was slender yet upright, neatly blocking Su Qinghan’s card-offering hand and also shielding Yan Yu’s line of sight.
Yan Yu was slightly taken aback, slowly looking up.
Su Qinghan was also clearly startled.
Looking at the unexpected guest who had suddenly inserted herself between them, her brows furrowed again.
The young woman standing in the middle wore a simple white dress, her long hair cascading like a waterfall.
She stood slightly sideways now, firmly shielding Yan Yu behind her.
Her delicate face held no expression, only those clear eyes were calm yet carried an invisible pressure.
It was Bai Yan’er.
“Senior Su,” Bai Yan’er spoke, her voice clear and pleasant.
Her gaze swept lightly over the bank card.
“What are you doing?”
She stood sideways, shielding Yan Yu, her calm gaze resting on the bank card in Su Qinghan’s hand.
Her eyes held no curiosity, only a trace of unconcealed displeasure.
Su Qinghan clearly hadn’t anticipated Bai Yan’er’s sudden appearance, nor her intervening in this manner.
Maintaining her half-kneeling posture, her brows furrowed even tighter.
Her tone also lowered, carrying the displeasure of being interrupted and a hint of the restraint belonging to someone in a superior position:
“Miss Bai, this is a matter between me and my ex-girlfriend.
It has nothing to do with you.”
“Ex-girlfriend? Has nothing to do with me?”
Bai Yan’er repeated the term, the corner of her mouth twitching almost imperceptibly, as if she had heard some absurd joke.
She did not back down.
Instead, she took a half-step forward, shielding Yan Yu even more securely behind her, and looked directly into Su Qinghan’s eyes.
“Senior Su, you might be mistaken.
Yan Yu is my sister.
Her matters are my matters.”
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