“Tongtong, I’ll say this one last time—I’ve never liked you. That childhood engagement was just something the elders joked about after meals. It was never meant to be taken seriously. I’ve always treated you like a little sister. Please have some self-respect and stop clinging to me.”
Hearing these words, Song Chutong felt dazed. Her head throbbed, the pain so intense that her consciousness blurred, as if she were dreaming.
But this wasn’t a dream. She had already dreamed about it last night. After waking up in shock, she rushed over to confirm it—only to find that it was real.
The troops had just finished morning training, and they happened to be standing outside the performing arts troupe’s training building. People poured out from inside like water from an opened floodgate, crowding the area.
Song Chutong’s eyelashes trembled as she looked up at the man in front of her—the one she had been following around since she was three years old.
Jiang Zhixing stood there with a cold expression, arms crossed. He was handsome, tall, and carried himself with a commanding presence.
His fingers tapped impatiently against his arm, as if, should she remain silent any longer, he would say something even harsher.
In any case, Song Chutong knew—today, he was determined to get rid of her.
Because that’s exactly how it was written in the book. The one Jiang Zhixing truly liked had always been Song Weiran—the daughter her stepmother brought into the family. They had argued last night, and Song Weiran had forced him to cut ties with Song Chutong completely.
“See? I told you Song Chutong has a bad temper. Now that Jiang Zhixing is a regiment commander, who would still put up with her?”
“She’s really shameless. He’s already said all that, and she’s still standing there. If it were me, I’d have run away in embarrassment.”
“Serves her right for being so spoiled. So what if she’s pretty? Men prefer someone gentle and soft like Weiran.” After saying this, the speaker nudged the elegant girl beside her and smiled ingratiatingly. “Don’t you agree, Weiran?”
Song Weiran had just been selected as the lead dancer and was now choosing someone to support her. Even though it was only a secondary role, it meant performing on the Spring Gala stage—who wouldn’t want that opportunity?
Song Chutong had always made trouble for Song Weiran in the troupe. The sisters’ poor relationship was no secret.
Song Weiran lowered her gaze. “Don’t say that. Tongtong has elders who dote on her…”
“So it’s only natural she’s a bit willful.”
“Only natural?”
The first statement came from Song Weiran. The questioning echo came from Song Chutong herself.
They spoke at the same time, surprising everyone around them.
Song Chutong turned to glance at Song Weiran’s startled expression, then broke into a bold, arrogant smile—so strikingly beautiful it took one’s breath away.
But when she looked back at Jiang Zhixing, her expression became noticeably more relaxed.
Everything matched. Every scene, every line—exactly the same as in her dream.
She had been observing all along. It wasn’t that she wanted to stand there and be laughed at—it was that she simply couldn’t believe she was actually the villainous supporting character in a novel!
Wasn’t she supposed to be the heroine? She was beautiful, came from a perfect family—yet she was just a supporting role?
And the heroine was actually her scheming, fake-innocent stepsister?
Song Chutong let out a cold laugh. What kind of ridiculous story makes a woman who climbs over others the heroine? Does that make any sense? Is that even logical?
The chatter around her continued.
Song Chutong sneered and swept an impatient glance over the crowd. “What are you all staring at? Don’t think I don’t know you’ve been talking behind my back. Acting all friendly to my face—what, now you’ve dropped the act? Get lost!”
Looking at these so-called “friends” only made her angrier. She had always been generous with them, yet they had never hesitated to stab her in the back.
“Song Chu—” Jiang Zhixing grew even more impatient when he spotted Song Weiran in the crowd. He hadn’t intended to make such a big scene.
Besides, he had long been fed up with Song Chutong’s bad temper and how difficult she was to deal with.
But the moment he opened his mouth, Song Chutong cut him off. She raised an eyebrow, a mocking smile on her lips.
“Jiang Zhixing, have you looked in a mirror lately? Do you really think I like you? In all these years, have I ever once said I liked you? So what if you’re a regiment commander? I won’t even mention my grandfather—just my three uncles alone outrank you. Why would I care about you?”
She let out three exaggerated laughs, then held a perfect smile at the corner of her lips. Her voice was crisp as she said, word by word:
“You. Get. Lost.”
It felt satisfying to say—but once the words left her mouth, Song Chutong felt an emptiness open up inside her.
Did she really feel nothing anymore? Not exactly. After all, Jiang Zhixing was someone she had truly loved for over a decade. From as early as she could remember, she had liked him. They grew up together in the same compound. The novel might describe things coldly in a few lines, but her feelings were never something that could simply be erased.
But when she thought about the miserable fate awaiting her, she decided men were nothing worth caring about.
Especially this man—who would only make her life even worse.
The crowd fell completely silent. As for what might happen next, Song Chutong had no idea—because she had already stepped outside the original storyline.
Still, the looks on everyone’s faces—shock, pity—made her feel sick.
Jiang Zhixing stared at her, momentarily stunned by the cold, indifferent girl in front of him. Then irritation surged up.
“I was going to leave you some dignity.”
Song Chutong fired back without hesitation, her red lips moving quickly. “Oh really? Because cornering me in front of this many people and saying things that ruin my reputation—that’s your idea of dignity?”
In the book, Jiang Zhixing had done this on purpose. He wanted to prove his loyalty to Song Weiran—but in doing so, he made Song Chutong the laughingstock of the entire troupe.
What the hell was wrong with him? Didn’t her life matter? Just because she was the “villainess,” did that mean she didn’t deserve her dignity?
Jiang Zhixing stepped closer. Song Chutong didn’t even blink, her slightly upturned eyes steady on him. He suddenly recalled how just yesterday, she had brought him imported cookies—something a friend of her uncle had brought back from overseas.
And now she was saying she didn’t like him?
So she was calling him delusional? Trying to embarrass him on purpose?
His refined face filled with disdain, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “You don’t like me, yet you follow me around every day? You don’t like me, yet you eagerly brought me imported cookies yesterday?”
He had always known she liked him—it was an open secret in their compound. He never brought it up, and she was too proud to ever admit it.
In fact, her pride had worked in his favor. He couldn’t outright reject her presence—because of her three uncles, and even more so because of her grandfather.
If she had ever confessed, what would he have said?
But now things were different. He had already secured his position, and her grandfather would retire next year. There was no longer any need to worry about offending her.
Song Chutong looked at him in disbelief, then shook her head as if he were beyond saving. Finally, as if she truly couldn’t hold it in anymore, she let out a small laugh.
“You don’t actually think I followed you because of you, do you? And you don’t seriously think I gave you those cookies for you to eat?”
Jiang Zhixing found her more and more unreasonable. “Then tell me—who was it for?”
What possible excuse could she come up with? How could she explain years of trying to please him?
Seeing her fall silent, Jiang Zhixing stepped closer again and looked down at the spoiled girl he had always disliked.
“Just admit it, Song Chutong. You—”
She cut him off for the second time.
Looking up at the face that had once occupied her entire youth, she spoke with an almost innocent expression:
“Fine, I’ll admit it. I was doing it for your uncle—Chief Jiang Sheng. After all, how else could I get close to him without going through you?”