Si Yuan pursed her lips, her fingertip tracing a faint line on the car window.
She secretly drew a crying face.
She changed the subject: “By the way, what did you need to see me for today, Brother?”
Song Yan finally turned to look at her.
“Can’t I pick you up without a reason?” His tone was flat. “Didn’t we always go home together after school before?”
Si Yuan’s heart felt as if it had been soaked in her favorite sour plum juice, tight with bitterness.
She nodded, forcing a light smile: “I thought you were with Sister-in-law.”
As the words “Sister-in-law” landed, Song Yan’s hand tightened momentarily.
Perhaps it was because the rainy season was too humid, but Song Yan actually felt a stifling sensation in his chest, an indescribable restlessness.
He remained silent for a long while before speaking: “Mom really likes Shuangyu.”
Si Yuan lowered her eyes, her heart souring as she tugged at the corner of her mouth.
It wasn’t just your mother who liked Lin Shuangyu.
Haven’t you always been protecting her too?
But Si Yuan had long learned how to conceal her true feelings and maintain appearances.
She calmly lifted her face, her smile brightening her eyes: “Yes, Brother and Sister-in-law are a golden couple, childhood sweethearts—naturally well-matched.”
Song Yan stared at her smile, finally feeling relieved.
“I thought you were still angry about what happened that day.”
That day, she had suddenly left the class reunion and brought up things from high school—it was hard for Song Yan not to overthink.
Si Yuan curled her fingers slightly, her voice light: “I’m not that petty.”
If she really were angry, Song’s Mother would probably say she was being unreasonable.
She had promised Song’s Father that she would be obedient from now on.
Song Yan believed her, his tone softening with a touch of emotion: “Actually, Shuangyu also feels bad about what happened before.”
He paused, his voice growing even softer: “That day, she thought you left because you didn’t want to see her. She cried in my arms for a long time—she truly knows she was wrong.”
“Xiao Yuan, who doesn’t make mistakes when they’re young?”
Si Yuan lowered her eyes, unconsciously rubbing the scar on her wrist.
Yes, who doesn’t make mistakes when they’re young?
Was Song Yan hinting at her with those words too?
She secretly glanced up, quickly stealing a look at Song Yan’s profile.
The light fell on his sharply defined jawline, gentle as jade yet untouchable.
But this time, her heart didn’t race faster—only a calm coolness remained.
Whether Lin Shuangyu truly knew her mistakes, Si Yuan didn’t know.
But she had already recognized her own mistakes and corrected them.
From now on, she wouldn’t like him anymore.
The windshield wipers swept away a layer of mist, only to be quickly covered by new raindrops.
Song Yan continued talking about how remorseful Shuangyu had been later, his tone carrying a mix of helplessness and affection toward Lin Shuangyu.
He was solely focused on making excuses for Lin Shuangyu, so he didn’t notice that Si Yuan’s smile had long faded, leaving only a bitter coolness.
If he had just turned his head, even for a single glance.
He would have seen her reddened eyes, noticed her clenched hands, witnessed her anxiety disorder acting up again as she frowned in discomfort.
But Song Yan didn’t.
He simply didn’t want Si Yuan to hold a grudge against Lin Shuangyu anymore.
The day before the banquet, Ding Cheng suggested meeting up.
Under the pretext of rehearsing in advance.
The location was set at a Western restaurant. When Si Yuan arrived, Ding Cheng was already waiting there.
As Si Yuan sat down, Ding Cheng quickly noticed she was colder than during their last meeting.
“What would you like to eat?” He handed her the menu.
“I’ve already eaten.” Si Yuan shook her head: “Let’s talk business.”
Ding Cheng smiled: “In our current state tomorrow, your family probably won’t believe it, will they?”
Si Yuan lowered her gaze slightly, her brows furrowing with distaste.
“Ding Cheng.”
Ding Cheng’s eyes lit up, all ears.
Si Yuan’s fingertip rested against the cold handle of the steak knife, her voice like thin frost: “Started as a model, only entered the entertainment industry a few years ago through a minor male role in a youth drama. Never been short of tabloid scandals since – from female co-stars to internet influencers outside the industry, changing partners more frequently than scripts. Am I right?”
Each word was soft, yet like fine needles, piercing straight through Ding Cheng’s carefully maintained facade.
His hand gripping the water glass tightened abruptly, letting out a cold laugh: “What do you mean? Investigating me?”
“Hardly an investigation.”
Si Yuan lifted her eyes, long lashes casting faint shadows beneath them, her tone completely flat. “Just did some preliminary research. After all, we’re supposed to play ‘the loving couple’ tomorrow – can’t very well not know my counterpart’s background. Should at least deserve the pay and properly cooperate through tomorrow’s proceedings. Best rein in any… extra intentions.”
“Extra intentions?” Ding Cheng’s expression darkened completely, tugging at his tie in humiliated anger. “Miss Si, have you forgotten the original purpose of cooperating with me? Tearing up our agreement now – aren’t you afraid I might ‘say a few extra words’ in front of your family tomorrow?”
This combination of threats and inducements from Ding Cheng felt all too familiar.
Exactly like Lin Shuangyu.
This world truly had no shortage of such people.
Instead, she lightly raised an eyebrow, the corner of her lips curling into a faint, mocking arc: “Suit yourself.”
Really, anyone thought they could threaten her now.
How tiresome.
Seeing Si Yuan’s composure was like punching cotton, Ding Cheng clenched his fist, about to utter more threats.
When suddenly an impatient, weary voice came from behind.
“Move.”
Ding Cheng whirled around, the anger on his face not yet faded, but the moment he recognized the newcomer, all color drained from his face.
He knew Jiang Wang.
Everyone in the industry knew – that ruthless newly-appointed CEO of the Jiang Corporation who never spared anyone’s dignity. Never mind small actors like him who relied on sponsors – even his own sponsors had to be deferential when meeting Jiang Wang.
Ding Cheng practically sprang up from his seat, like a dog seeing its master, obsequious smiles covering his face, his voice trembling with ingratiation: “M-Mr. Jiang? What brings you here? Do you remember me? Last time at President Sun’s dinner party, I followed President Sun to toast you…”
He babbled on, trying to establish connection, attempting to evoke even a sliver of recognition.
But Jiang Wang didn’t even lift his eyelids, his gaze passing straight over him to rest on Si Yuan sitting quietly in the booth.
His brow furrowed almost imperceptibly, thin lips coldly spitting out a single word: “Scram.”
The voice wasn’t loud, yet carried undeniable pressure.
The smile froze instantly on Ding Cheng’s face.
Not daring to utter even a word of explanation, he could only retreat in disgrace, practically fleeing in panic.
Only after Ding Cheng’s figure completely disappeared from the restaurant entrance did Jiang Wang stride over with long steps to sit opposite Si Yuan.
Si Yuan didn’t look at him, but could still feel his gaze slowly sweeping over her.
Jiang Wang pushed aside the cutlery before him with clear distaste, getting straight to the point: “You’d choose such trash over me?”
Si Yuan’s fingers curled slightly, the tips of her ears tinged with a faint blush, her voice carrying a trace of embarrassment: “I only noticed something off about Ding Cheng a few days ago, but the banquet is tomorrow. Replacing someone at the last minute… it’s too late.”
“How is it too late?”
Jiang Wang lifted his gaze, his dark eyes holding a hint of amusement, his fingers tapping idly on the table.
The implication in his words couldn’t be clearer.
Wasn’t he the ready-made solution right here?
Si Yuan met his gaze, plunging into those sharp, roguish eyes.
Just like old times.
Her throat moved slightly, but in the end, she lowered her eyes to avoid his stare: “No.”
“Why?”
Why?
Once, to keep things hidden from Song Yan, she had endured a full year of bullying from Lin Shuangyu.
Later, to protect herself, she had been entangled in a messy, unclear relationship with Jiang Wang for half a year.
Pushed into countless restraints by one lie, dragging along countless more lies—this was something Si Yuan didn’t want to experience a second time.
She stood up, grabbing her coat from the back of the chair, avoiding Jiang Wang’s gaze: “Thank you. I’ll explain everything to my parents tomorrow.”
With those words, she turned and left.
Jiang Wang remained seated.
After a long while, he muttered under his breath.
“Too proud for your own good.”
After all this talk, was it still because of Song Yan?
Because she was afraid of getting entangled with him again, afraid it would interfere with her wholehearted affection for Song Yan.
A wave of discomfort churned inside Jiang Wang.
He couldn’t quite put it into words, and naturally, he couldn’t suppress it.
When he opened his eyes again, he took out his phone and dialed a number.
When Boss Jiang was unhappy, it was impossible for the night to pass without casualties.
“Take care of someone.”
A teasing voice came from the other end of the line: “Oh, even Boss Jiang has someone he needs to handle personally? Who’s the big shot?”
Jiang Wang leaned back in his chair, his gaze sweeping over the tableware Ding Cheng had just used.
“A minor actor.”