For once, Song Chutong didn’t snap back at Song Weiran.
She simply turned and walked straight into the dormitory.
The six-person room held only her bed. It had been cleaned to spotless perfection, every corner neat, every necessity prepared. Even the bedding had already been changed into a fresh set.
Most importantly—
There was no one she disliked.
For the first time, Song Chutong felt that living in a dorm might not be so bad after all. It was just… too big. After the nightmare that had haunted her the previous night, being alone in such a vast, empty room still left her faintly uneasy.
After washing up, her gaze fell on the newly bought snow cream sitting on the table. She scooped out a small amount, rubbed it evenly between her palms, and gently applied it to her face.
A faint floral fragrance lingered in the air.
But there was no softness in her expression—only deep thought.
When exactly did Second Brother disappear?
Would someone like him truly throw away his promising future… for the sake of a woman?
She lay awake for most of the night, trying to recall every fragment of that dream—but nothing came.
It was as if that part of the story had never been mentioned at all.
Or perhaps… the “omniscient view” she’d briefly gained only existed for a short moment after her death in the dream. If so, then that marriage of his might have unfolded entirely outside her field of vision.
But that made even less sense.
Wei Lin was her closest kin. They had always been on good terms—so how could he get married without telling her? How could he fall in love with someone and keep it from her entirely?
Song Chutong knew she wasn’t particularly clever.
But she had grasped one undeniable truth—
There was something deeply wrong about that marriage.
By the time dawn’s pale light crept in, she finally drifted into a shallow sleep. Not long after, the morning training bell rang sharply through the air.
She struggled under the covers for a moment before finally throwing them off and getting up.
“Song Chutong?”
Jiang Shuyi had been waiting outside for quite a while. When she finally saw Song Chutong step out, she greeted her as if by chance.
Song Chutong lazily waved a hand. “Morning.”
She didn’t notice anything unusual, and the two naturally fell into step together.
From behind, Wen Ya watched them, lips curling in disdain. “I was wondering who Jiang Shuyi was waiting for—turns out it’s Song Chutong.”
“Birds of a feather flock together.”
After returning last night, Jiang Shuyi had made no effort to hide her attitude toward the others. Yet when Teacher Qin came around, she instantly put on a meek, obedient act—earning them another round of scolding in the process.
Whispers from the neighboring singing troupe soon spread to the dance team. Bai Jieyi, upon hearing them, eagerly ran off to tell Song Weiran.
“Isn’t Jiang Shuyi the lead singer? Why is Song Chutong suddenly hanging around her?”
The moment she spoke, another girl gasped, eyes wide. “Don’t tell me Song Chutong changed her performance just because of Jiang Shuyi?”
“How could she?! No wonder she switched it so suddenly—it was all for Jiang Shuyi!”
Bai Jieyi hesitated, then added, “Her surname is Jiang… could she be from the Jiang family?”
That single remark drew everyone closer, their voices dropping into excited whispers.
“Doesn’t that mean Song Chutong still hasn’t given up on Jiang Zhixing?”
“I knew it! Everyone saw how she used to chase after him—how could she possibly let go of that so easily?”
“But isn’t Jiang Sheng also part of the Jiang family? What if Song Chutong is doing all this for him?”
The moment that name was spoken, the girls fell briefly silent.
It wasn’t that Jiang Sheng was insignificant—quite the opposite. He stood so high, so far out of reach, that most people rarely even had the chance to think about him. Someone like him didn’t belong in their everyday conversations.
Up until now, Song Weiran had let their speculation run wild. But at this point, she finally spoke.
“No… as far as I know, there isn’t anyone named Jiang Shuyi in the Jiang family.” Her voice was soft, almost gentle. “Don’t misunderstand Tongtong. Maybe she just wanted to give a new friend a chance to shine…”
As she finished, her long lashes lowered, veiling her eyes.
Jiang Shuyi was the lead singer of the vocal troupe. Song Weiran had once considered befriending her—but Jiang Shuyi was always alone, distant, giving no opportunity for anyone to get close.
She had even asked Jiang Zhixing about her before. Though his reaction to the name had been slightly strange, he had quickly denied that Jiang Shuyi belonged to the Jiang family.
No background. No visible privileges. Most likely just an ordinary recruit in the arts division.
Someone like that—withdrawn, unremarkable—wasn’t worth the effort of building connections.
If the others merely misunderstood Song Chutong’s motives, thinking she befriended Jiang Shuyi because of lingering feelings for Jiang Zhixing, Song Weiran wouldn’t have bothered correcting them.
But for some reason… the moment Jiang Sheng’s name entered the conversation, a sharp discomfort stirred in her chest.
She had seen Jiang Sheng once.
A chance encounter at the compound gates.
That face. That presence.
Unforgettable at a single glance.
Even she… wouldn’t dare dream of someone like him.
So how could Song Chutong’s name possibly be mentioned alongside Jiang Sheng’s?
Bai Jieyi noticed Song Weiran lowering her gaze and mistook it for hurt. Immediately, indignation flared.
“Song Chutong is really heartless! Ranran is her own sister, yet she’d throw away such a great opportunity for her just for some new friend she barely knows. Who knows what she’s really thinking!”
“Exactly… sigh, forget it. Let’s just drop it. The one who’s suffered the most here is Song Weiran.”
Song Weiran gave a small, bitter smile and shook her head. “Alright, alright. Let’s go get breakfast—if we’re late, all the good food will be gone.”
Just then, a round-faced girl leaned closer, curiosity sparkling in her eyes. “Ranran, how do you know so much about the Jiang family? Did Song Chutong tell you?”
Song Weiran’s heart skipped a beat.
As if by coincidence, Jiang Zhixing happened to be walking ahead. When he passed by her, he paused for the briefest moment—but didn’t turn back.
She knew it wasn’t the right time to reveal anything.
But from the food tickets in his hand and the direction he was heading, she could easily guess what he intended to do.
He was too soft-hearted.
She had only just managed to push him into making up his mind—to cut ties with Song Chutong completely. It was only natural that, after agreeing in a moment of resolve, he would begin to hesitate again.
Her gaze darkened, a calculating gleam flickering within.
“Yes… back when Tongtong used to—”
She abruptly stopped, as if realizing she had said too much. Quickly, she changed her tone, her face filled with feigned guilt.
“When Tongtong and Commander Jiang were still close, she often told me things about him. Though I don’t remember much now… she’s already said they’re no longer involved. We shouldn’t keep bringing it up. If she hears, she’ll only get upset…”
The round-faced girl snorted, clearly unconvinced. “Isn’t it just because of her bad temper? What’s wrong with us telling the truth? She even boldly claimed she’d cut ties with Commander Jiang—doesn’t she feel embarrassed saying that? As if he’d ever go looking for her!”
She scoffed, her tone dripping with disdain. “If you ask me, Commander Jiang should just ignore her completely—otherwise she’ll stick to him like glue, impossible to shake off!”
Song Weiran smiled faintly, smoothly steering the conversation elsewhere.
Yet her gaze drifted forward, almost absentmindedly, landing on Jiang Zhixing.
Just as she expected—
His steps had slowed, following behind Song Chutong.
And in his hand, the grip on those meal tickets tightened.
Only then did Song Weiran look away.
Her expression returned to one of gentle attentiveness as she listened to her teammates chatter about trivial gossip. From time to time, she chimed in with a soft, agreeable remark—drawing bursts of laughter from the group, as though nothing at all had happened.