Although Jincheng was a coastal city, the sea breeze did nothing to cool the sweltering air.
Jiang Li returned to the classroom with her cello on her back and, as per routine, began applying rosin to the bow hair.
The department had arranged an off-campus music exchange event, and she had been placed in Professor Zhu’s intensive training group class.
After so many years as a wealthy socialite, suddenly returning to practice and exams felt like an unbearable hardship.
Sitting at the very back of the classroom, she mechanically drew the bow across the strings.
Suddenly, she keenly sensed scattered glances directed her way.
A small, elderly man strode over, hands on his hips, and pointed at the second measure of the sheet music. “How many times have you made mistakes today? If you keep being so absent-minded, you can forget about attending the music exchange!”
Jiang Li had been learning the cello under Zhu Zhentian since elementary school.
He was a nationally recognized first-class performer. Despite being at retirement age, he cherished talent deeply and wanted to personally nurture promising students with exceptional musical gifts, which was why he had returned to teaching through a rehire program.
A man who had always been gentle as water, the wrinkles he had developed last year from frustration with Jiang Li were so deep that even Botox couldn’t smooth them out.
“I’m sorry.”
Jiang Li jolted and straightened her posture.
Zhu Zhentian had heard such perfunctory apologies many times before.
In all his years, he had never seen someone waste their talent so thoroughly.
Since entering university, Jiang Li had become like a loose cello string—impossible to tighten.
She didn’t practice properly, nor did she attend classes diligently.
Yet, Zhu Zhentian still found an excuse for her. “You were frightened yesterday, so it’s understandable that you’re having trouble focusing. Remember to rest well after class.”
Then, facing the entire class, he spoke earnestly, “I believe becoming the principal cellist of a symphony orchestra is the dream of everyone here. You’ve practiced through countless days and nights. Regardless of the outcome, I hope you all give it your all.”
Zhu Zhentian was subtly admonishing her.
Ring—
The bell signaling the end of class rang, but Jiang Li’s gaze remained fixed on her wrist.
The cello had been something Jiang Lintian insisted she learn, but thanks to her perfect pitch, it hadn’t been particularly difficult.
After struggling through the arts entrance exams, the cello had been left by her bedside, gathering dust.
The next time she touched it was after the Jiang family went bankrupt, when Jiang Li had no choice but to worry about money.
But by then, Professor Zhu had lost hope in her. Her rusty skills weren’t even enough to apply for a teaching position at an institution. Later, persuaded by others, she took on commercial performances to earn money, only to have a stage light fall and injure her hand, completely ending that path.
Later, Shen Muran had even found doctors to help her with rehabilitation, but even after the nerves in her hand were reconnected, she still experienced phantom pain.
The scorching lightbulb had fallen, glass shards piercing straight into her wrist, blood spurting uncontrollably. Jiang Li had once thought she had severed a major artery and wouldn’t survive.
She touched her now smooth wrist, replaying Zhu Zhentian’s words in her mind, lost in thought.
The time since her rebirth had been too short, and there were too many things to do.
So many that Jiang Li hadn’t yet considered her own future.
Whispers began to surface nearby.
“Last night, the forum was flooded by Miss Jiang. Anyone who dares slander Shen Muran with kidnapping rumors today will have hell to pay!”
“Damn, so does that mean Jiang Li is cheating on Xu Jiarang?”
“Just playing around. Think of it as the young lady keeping a pet.”
“Honestly, Shen Muran’s physique is rare even among sports students—lean muscle, slender waist, and those arm veins popping when he plays are just mesmerizing. He plays the fiercest in matches; whenever he competes, no one else stands a chance of winning the championship. If only his background weren’t so unsavory, my family would’ve extended an olive branch to him long ago.”
The chatter grew more animated.
Jiang Li overheard just a snippet as she packed up her cello and left the practice room.
On her way to the cafeteria, she idly scrolled through her social media feed and unexpectedly came across a promotional poster for a provincial tennis invitational. Shen Muran had even liked it.
Jiang Li paused, zooming in with a two-finger pinch.
At the bottom of the poster, it read: Featuring USPTA International Master Coach Cheng Li as the referee.
Jiang Li remembered him well, not just because Jiang Lintian often mentioned him.
In her past life, he had been Shen Muran’s coach.
Cheng Li held a prestigious position in the tennis world.
He occasionally dropped into certain tournaments to scout for promising talents, recruiting them into his team to train as competitive players.
This time was no exception.
If Shen Muran could catch his eye, his future would be bright.
But he couldn’t.
Jiang Li recalled the first year Shen Muran had imprisoned her. One night, he had drunk too much.
He stormed in, demanding to know why she had bullied him during university. The man seemed lost in painful memories, pouring out his grievances.
He said he had worked tirelessly at tennis, desperate for money and recognition, but people only fixated on his background, constantly tripping him up.
He endured their provocations and harassment.
Yet they secretly barred him from competitions too!
Whenever he tried to enter tournaments with higher prize money, they never gave him a chance. Application after application was submitted, only to be rejected under various pretexts.
The nearly six-foot-tall man hunched over, crying with such genuine anguish that night, Jiang Li softened for the first time and held him as they slept.
So now, this was the period Shen Muran had referred to as the “ban.”
Just then, her phone rang.
She swiped right to answer, greeted by a gentle, familiar voice.
“Jiang Li, I need to reach your brother urgently, but his phone keeps going unanswered!”
The man got straight to the point. “If you can contact him, could you ask him to recommend a talented tennis player for me?”
Ji Guanyu was Ji Chengyu’s older brother, a few years their senior, and had watched Jiang Li grow up as the neighbor’s big brother.
“Isn’t your team already full? Still recruiting?”
“We are full, but we need a temporary substitute.”
Ji Guanyu led a team at the Dermon Tennis Club.
Not long ago, they had registered for a tournament, but one of their doubles players suffered an Achilles tendon strain with an uncertain recovery timeline.
Jiang Lintian was a sharp-eyed player scout who undoubtedly had plenty of promising talents on his radar. Ji Guanyu was desperate to find a replacement.
Jiang Li cut straight to the chase. “Is this the tournament where Coach Cheng Li is the referee?”
“Yes.”
Hengtian was a sponsor, so Ji Guanyu wasn’t surprised she knew.
Jiang Li nearly jumped with excitement—it was like someone handing her a pillow just as she was feeling drowsy.
Shen Muran’s opportunity had arrived!
Since he had liked the post, it meant he wanted to compete too.
“Brother is on a business trip and isn’t taking calls.” Jiang Li’s eyes sparkled with an idea.
“But I do know a young athlete with solid competitive results. Brother said he plans to sign him when he returns.”
She then found a clip from one of Shen Muran’s matches last year on his social media and forwarded it. “Guanyu, take a look at this first.”
The camera focused on the outdoor tennis court, where a young man in the Jin Cheng University tennis team uniform stood with sharp, focused eyes. He tossed the ball into the air, his wrist turning lightly as he sent a high lob to start the rally. When his opponent returned the ball, he swiftly and steadily received it, his movements—sidestepping, drawing back the racket, twisting his waist, and swinging—flowing seamlessly into one another. He dominated the match, crushing his opponent with overwhelming skill.
Ji Guanyu was overjoyed after watching and quickly jumped in, “Good sister, how about introducing him to me first?”
“If you help me with this, I’ll give you Ji Chengyu as your slave for a whole semester. How about that?”
Sorry, little brother, but you’re meant to be sold out.
Jiang Li was delighted but still pretended to hesitate for a moment.
“Alright then, I guess I’ll have to betray my brother a little too.”