The morning classes passed by quickly.
Little did she know that within those brief two to three hours, the internal forum of Imperial Capital University had been captivated by a photograph of an “ethereal beauty.”
The woman in the photo had lustrous black hair cascading over her shoulders, diligently taking notes with a pen in hand. The sunlight streaming through the window illuminated her, causing her delicate skin to shimmer as if draped in a faint, translucent veil. The pixel quality of mobile phones in this era was somewhat blurry, yet the haziness only enhanced the dreamlike allure of the image. Moreover, the woman in the photo was strikingly beautiful, delivering a powerful visual impact.
Despite being such a simple photograph, the post on the forum amassed thousands of comments and nearly a hundred thousand likes in just three hours.
Instantly, it became the most viral post on the entire university forum.
One comment read: “With so many people, she doesn’t lose to our faculty’s Professor Wen, does she?”
Then, another comment quickly drew attention:
“Don’t just focus on my goddess!
There’s also this year’s campus belle vote—is no one going to address that?
Damn, is there even a need to vote? Of course, it’s my goddess.”
Nearly a dozen photos of candidates for campus belle were completely overshadowed.
Jiang Hua remained unaware that she had already risen to the top of the campus belle rankings.
The morning passed swiftly.
As the last class ended, Jiang Hua was packing her things to leave when Song Qingran approached her.
Fifteen minutes earlier, Jiang Hua had noticed Song Qingran loitering at the classroom entrance, holding a bottle of milk and carrying a backpack.
Seeming to muster immense courage, Song Qingran walked up to Jiang Hua and said, “Senior Jiang, there’s something I’d like to discuss with you privately. Could you come with me for a moment?”
Jiang Hua coldly rejected her, “Sorry, I don’t have time right now.”
Undeterred, Song Qingran jogged after her along the path outside the teaching building. “Senior Jiang… I… actually… today I saw you coming out of a hotel with a man.”
Hearing this, Jiang Hua immediately halted and fixed her with a gaze as cool as moonlight. “So? What are you trying to say?”
Song Qingran pulled a bank card from her backpack. “Senior Jiang, that man is completely unworthy of you. You’re so beautiful… I hope you won’t continue down this path of degradation. With hard work and dedication, you can eventually afford luxury items on your own, without relying on others.”
“This card has five thousand yuan saved up. I hope it can help you for now.”
“Oh, and this milk—I just bought it, and it’s still warm. It’s for you.”
“In exchange, could you keep what happened last time a secret?”
Her face was the picture of innocence and naivety, her eyes wide and pitiful.
Jiang Hua could tolerate such expressions from others, but from Song Qingran, it felt utterly hypocritical. She found herself unsure whether to laugh or get angry.
“Just because you saw me leaving a hotel, you assumed I slept with a man? Song Qingran… should I call you naive or ignorant? Is this foolish, harmless act of yours what attracted the man who’s keeping you?”
“I’m warning you for the last time! Don’t appear before me again. My temper isn’t as good as you think.”
“Keep this money for yourself.”
Jiang Hua slapped away the bank card Song Qingran had used to humiliate her.
Song Qingran stared blankly at the bank card fallen on the ground, feeling as if something inside her had snapped. She crouched down, weeping sorrowfully as she picked up the card.
A clear teardrop fell to the ground, splashing like a flower of sorrow. Her voice trembled as she spoke, “This money isn’t dirty at all. I saved it myself.”
On the second-floor balcony of the self-study building, Jiang Hua watched Song Qingran’s retreating figure, her hands clenched tightly in her pockets.
Had she been too harsh just now?
Jiang Hua rested her forehead in her hand, unaware of what the person behind her was saying. When she finally came to her senses, she heard Zuo Xiangnan’s words: “…Miss Jiang, you shouldn’t have done that. Miss Song came from a poor family and has endured too much. She suffers from severe depression. There were several previous suicide attempts – if not for timely rescues, she would have…”
Jiang Hua’s expression remained cold until Song Qingran disappeared from view. Only then did she turn around, crossing her arms as she spoke coldly to the voice before her, “Oh? In that case, shouldn’t Song Qingran offer herself to Pei Zhan in gratitude? Hmm?”
Zuo Xiangnan nodded slightly, “Young Miss, you’re being too severe. President Pei was merely helping out of convenience.”
Jiang Hua could never stand hypocritical behavior, no matter when – just like Pei Zhan. “Zuo Xiangnan, I know you’re Pei Zhan’s most loyal assistant. But don’t forget, ultimately you’re just an employee working for the Jiang Family. My affairs are none of your business to lecture me about! I have my own eyes to judge what kind of person Song Qingran is.”
Zuo Xiangnan: “I was merely offering a well-intentioned reminder to the Young Miss. If President Pei had witnessed this today, he wouldn’t let it rest.”
Jiang Hua curled her lips in a smile, yet her heart felt inexplicably wounded, as if slashed by a sharp blade leaving a bloody gash. “Is that so? Then go back and tell Pei Zhan exactly how I bullied his precious today.”
“Or are you trying to say that Song Qingran is special to Pei Zhan? That without the forced marriage back then, Pei Zhan would have married the girl he sponsored? That I’m the third party who broke them up?”
Zuo Xiangnan: “Young Miss, you’re misunderstanding my meaning.”
Zuo Xiangnan finally understood how unreasonable she could be. No wonder President Pei preferred staying at Fan Hua Si Jin.
“Actually, President Pei has been quite concerned about your recent situation. He knows you’ve been holding grudges regarding Miss Song. Song Qingran has no relationship with President Pei whatsoever – they’re completely innocent. Their connection is merely that of sponsor and sponsored.”
Jiang Hua, “Enough, I’m not interested in your loving details. I don’t care how many women Pei Zhan has – none of it has anything to do with me.”
Jiang Hua didn’t want to waste any more meaningless time with him. As she stepped to leave, Zuo Xiangnan reached out to stop her.
Zuo Xiangnan explained, “President Pei made this himself and specifically asked me to deliver it to you. They’re all dishes you like.”
When Jiang Hua took it, she didn’t even glance at it. Instead, she personally poured all the food from the thermal container onto the ground, slowly uttering three words to him with hatred lacing every syllable: “I find it dirty!”
Zuo Xiangnan’s eyes dimmed slightly, then he heard steady, powerful footsteps approaching from behind. He swiftly turned around to see Pei Zhan descending the stairs step by step.
Zuo Xiangnan: “President Pei.”