Yan Yu sat on the edge of the bed, digesting the reward notification.
Emotion Recognition.
She silently repeated those four words in her mind.
This skill… was actually quite useful.
For someone like Xiao Zhen, who wore all her emotions on her face—laughing when happy, crying when sad—Yan Yu didn’t really need this skill.
But Bai Yan’er was different.
That outwardly gentle and harmless younger sister of hers was the one Yan Yu truly couldn’t afford to let her guard down around.
Every smile from Bai Yan’er, every word she spoke, was layered with hidden intentions.
Yan Yu could sense those things, but she couldn’t see through them.
If she had the “Emotion Recognition” skill, the next time she interacted with Bai Yan’er, she might be able to more accurately discern her sister’s true feelings.
That way, she could better navigate the space between Bai Yan’er and the people around herself.
Yan Yu was about to turn off the light and rest.
The System beeped again.
‘Can you not finish everything all at once?’
[Ding. Detected that Host achieved a perfect score on this mission. System is hereby issuing an additional reward.]
Additional reward?
Yan Yu, who was about to lie down, sat up straight again, her eyes brightening slightly.
[Reward Issued: Omniscient Perspective.]
[Note: After equipping this skill, you can observe changes at important plot nodes, even if you are not at the scene of the event. Select a specific character and use the skill to detect key events from that character’s perspective. A god’s perspective is not omniscience or omnipotence.]
[The perspectives you can unlock are limited and only apply to key nodes that have a significant impact on the progression of the plot. Please use it at the appropriate time. Each plot node can only be unlocked once.]
[Currently unlockable key plot node: Su Qinghan and Jiang Muyun’s Argument.]
[Would you like to unlock it?]
An argument?
Those two were already arguing?
Arguing was good. An argument meant things were getting lively.
Yan Yu wasn’t sleepy anymore.
She recalled the scene at the aquarium plaza earlier this evening.
Su Qinghan was holding her phone; the ringtone rang out repeatedly in the twilight. Her expression shifted from hesitation to wavering, from wavering to some emotion Yan Yu couldn’t quite read.
In the end, she didn’t answer the call. She put the phone back into her pocket and said, “Let’s eat first.”
And that “high-end restaurant” Su Qinghan mentioned was indeed high-end.
The restaurant was hidden on the top floor of an office building in the eastern part of the city. There was no sign, no entrance marquee; even the entrance was an inconspicuous gray wooden door.
If Su Qinghan hadn’t pushed open that door as if she knew the place like the back of her hand, Yan Yu probably would have thought it was just a regular wall.
Behind the door was a completely different world.
Yan Yu still remembered being completely silent for a full five seconds when she saw the astronomical prices on the menu.
Su Qinghan glanced at her, said nothing, and simply took the menu from her hands.
Then she ordered the most expensive main course, the most expensive soup, the most expensive dessert, and the most expensive wine in that restaurant.
“I’ll order,” she said.
Yan Yu said nothing. She had long known that Su Qinghan’s spending habits were completely different from hers.
In Su Qinghan’s world, price was never a factor that needed consideration.
If she wanted something, she took it. If she liked something, she bought it. She never looked at price tags, never made trade-offs.
This world was the Su family’s world.
And the Su family’s money was so abundant that she never had to learn to be frugal.
This worked perfectly, giving Yan Yu the opportunity to create the plot.
During the meal, she pulled her phone out of her pocket, unlocked the screen, and opened the camera.
She took a photo of the table full of dishes.
The porcelain-white plates, the exquisite presentation, the warm yellow lighting, and a single white rose inserted into a slender-necked vase.
Everything was framed within that small photo.
She opened her Friendship Circle, posted the photo, and set the privacy setting to “Public.”
Then she pressed send.
The moment her finger pressed the send button, a smile lifted the corners of her mouth.
There wasn’t a single face in the photo, nor any feature that could clearly identify someone.
Just a table of expensive dishes.
‘Jiang Muyun should see this post,’ she thought. ‘Then she’ll willingly join my script.’
As she expected.
Thanks to that ambiguous photo, those two had probably finally torn down that veil of pretense, pouring out all the emotions they’d bottled up over the past few days.
But Yan Yu didn’t know exactly what had happened.
She really wanted to know.
Perhaps because the silence had stretched on a bit too long, the cold, mechanical system prompt rang out again.
[Asking again: Does Host wish to unlock and use the “Omniscient Perspective” skill?]
Yan Yu took a deep breath and nodded slightly.
“Unlock.”
This was the first time Yan Yu used “Omniscient Perspective.”
The feeling was very peculiar.
She closed her eyes and clearly felt her consciousness being gently pulled away by some invisible force.
Her consciousness, like a wisp of light smoke, drifted out from her physical shell, passing through walls, through the night, through the dense web of wires and signals above the city, heading to a place she had never been.
Then, she “saw” a scene elsewhere.
Not with her eyes, but through a more fundamental perception.
It was downstairs at Jiang Muyun’s villa.
Night had fully fallen.
The dim yellow streetlights of the villa district were on, casting blurry silhouettes of the neatly trimmed bushes.
In the distance, lights were still on in the windows of a few villas, a warm yellow glow leaking through the gaps in the curtains, falling onto the lawns outside.
It was very quiet. Quiet enough to hear the chirping of insects in the grass and the low hum of a car engine occasionally passing by in the distance.
Su Qinghan stood on the steps below the villa entrance, one hand holding her phone to her ear, the other in the pocket of her trench coat.
Her posture was very straight, her back as taut as a stretched string.
But on her face was a rare look of agitation.
Her brows were tightly furrowed, her lips pressed into a thin line. Her gaze would occasionally land on the lighted window on the second floor of the villa.
The call went through.
Once. Twice. Three times.
No one answered.
Su Qinghan hung up and redialed.
Three, four, five rings.
Still no answer.
This time, the ringtone only sounded twice before it was hung up.
Not unanswered, but actively hung up by the other party.
She took a deep breath and dialed again.
Su Qinghan’s hand gripping the phone tightened slightly.
She looked up and shouted towards the lighted window on the second floor:
“Mu Yun! What’s wrong with you today? Why won’t you answer my calls? Come down, let’s talk properly!”
Her voice carried far in the quiet night, startling a few nameless insects in the grass.
The motion-sensor light at the villa entrance clicked on, casting a stark white light on her, throwing her shadow long across the ground.
Silence.
As if a long time had passed, or only a few seconds, the villa’s front door finally opened.
Jiang Muyun walked out.
She wasn’t wearing a jacket, only a thin white home dress. The hem of the skirt fluttered gently in the night breeze.
Her long hair was loose on her shoulders, uncombed, slightly messy.
Her arms were crossed over her chest, fingers tightly gripping her own upper arms, the knuckles white.
Her eyes were red.
There were obvious tear tracks beneath her eyes, glistening wetly under the streetlamp.
The tip of her nose was also red. Her lips trembled slightly, as if she were biting down hard on them from the inside. When she finally stopped biting, they still quivered.
Step by step, she walked down the stairs. Her pace was neither fast nor slow, her high heels clicking sharply on the stone path.
When she reached Su Qinghan, she stopped.
The two stood face to face, less than a yard apart.
The night wind passed between them, carrying the crisp coolness unique to early summer.
“Why didn’t you answer my phone right away?”
“Su Qinghan.” Jiang Muyun spoke. “Tell me, why didn’t you answer my phone right away?”
Su Qinghan’s eyes flickered.
“I was busy with something at the time,” she said.
“Busy with something?”
Jiang Muyun’s voice rose a little, the pitch climbing.
“What was it?”
“Nothing.”
Su Qinghan lowered her eyelids, avoiding Jiang Muyun’s gaze.
“I just went out for a walk by myself. I was in a bad mood and didn’t notice your call.”
“Really just went for a walk by yourself?”
Su Qinghan looked up, meeting Jiang Muyun’s red-rimmed eyes.
“Really,” she said.
But Jiang Muyun didn’t believe her.
Her gaze slowly drifted down from Su Qinghan’s face, along the collar, the front placket of the trench coat, all the way down to the leather bag Su Qinghan was carrying at her side.
That expensive leather bag, its cold metal clasps gleaming under the streetlamp.
A small keychain was pinned to the bag.
A milky white shell, with a pale blue gem and a rose gold ring clasp.
Pretty. Cute. But also particularly jarring.
The unfamiliar style hit Jiang Muyun like a thunderbolt.
“What is that!?”
Jiang Muyun’s voice suddenly became very deep.
Her eyes were like a thin layer of ice, hiding deep, cold water beneath.
She pointed at the keychain, her finger trembling slightly.
“This isn’t something you would buy, Su Qinghan. I know!”
Her voice began to tremble.
“Your aesthetic is never like this. You never hang things like this on your bag. This shell, this childish, flashy, cheap little thing!”
“Tell me, who gave it to you!?”
Su Qinghan was stunned.
Her gaze fell on the keychain, her pupils slightly constricting.
She had never imagined that this insignificant little pendant would become the most undeniable piece of evidence.
She had carried this bag all day.
At the restaurant while eating, at the aquarium watching the fish, waiting for the car in the plaza.
The keychain had just hung there quietly, the milky white shell gleaming faintly in the light.
She hadn’t taken it off. She hadn’t hidden it in her pocket. She hadn’t even thought about putting it away.
Because in that moment, beside Yan Yu, she hadn’t wanted to put it away.
But now, in front of Jiang Muyun, she had no explanation.
“I…”
Su Qinghan opened her mouth, wanting to say “I just bought it on a whim,” but the words got stuck in her throat. She couldn’t say them.
Because it wasn’t true.
Jiang Muyun watched Su Qinghan’s hesitant face, and the tears in her eyes finally spilled over.
Her voice tore through the night, laced with despair.
“Su Qinghan, you can’t do this to me! You can’t!”
“You said you only liked me!”
Her voice trembled in the night wind.
“Su Qinghan, you can’t do this to me!”
She stomped her foot, the heel of her shoe hitting the stone path with a dull thud.
“Without me, where would you be today? You… you owe me, Su Qinghan. You owe me for the rest of your life!”
“Have you forgotten everything from our childhood?”
Tears rolled down her cheeks in large drops, falling onto the collar of her white dress, soaking small, dark wet patches.
Her shoulders shook, her voice trembled.
Su Qinghan stood there, watching Jiang Muyun cry.
She didn’t know what she should do right now.
Or rather, she didn’t know what she really felt for Jiang Muyun at this moment.
Pity? Yes.
Guilt? Yes.
Annoyance? That too.
She had encountered this troublesome situation again.
Every time she had a conflict with Jiang Muyun, it ended up like this.
Jiang Muyun cried, and she coaxed her.
Jiang Muyun cried again, and she coaxed her again.
Like a loop they could never escape, going in circles.
Su Qinghan suddenly felt very tired.
Not a physical tiredness, but a deeper kind of exhaustion that seemed to seep from her very bones.
She thought of her best trick, the one that never failed when faced with Jiang Muyun’s tears.
It wasn’t a good method, but it worked.
It always worked.
“Mu Yun, don’t be mad. I know it’s all my fault.”
Su Qinghan’s voice softened, so soft it didn’t sound like her own.
“What do you want? I’ll buy it for you, okay?”
Jiang Muyun’s crying stopped for a moment.
She lifted her tear-soaked eyes, still with crystal drops hanging from her lashes, and stared unblinkingly at Su Qinghan.
“…What did you say?”
“I said—”
Su Qinghan’s tone carried a cautiousness.
“Whatever you want to buy, or wherever you want to travel, I’ll give it to you. Just… stop crying, okay?”
As she spoke, she turned, taking the bag off her shoulder and cradling it in the crook of her arm.
Then she reached out, her fingertips pinching the metal ring clasp of the shell keychain, and pulled hard.
The ring slipped off the bag strap, and the keychain fell into her palm.
She held it, pausing for less than a second.
In that second, her fingertip brushed lightly across the smooth surface of the shell.
Then, hesitating, she loosened her hand.
A soft clink.
The shell disappeared into the dark green shadows of the shrub.
Premium Chapter
Login to buy access to this Chapter.