The Ginkgo Avenue outside Jingda’s concert hall was blanketed in the glow of the setting sun, golden leaves spiraling down in the breeze.
Shen Qinghuan walked out of the hall carrying her violin case, her mind still digesting the flood of memories from the book that had poured into her head.
She was still a bit dazed, honestly.
Transmigration into a book—when she read about it in novels, it had seemed absurd. She never expected it to happen to her.
Right now, all she wanted was to find a quiet place to sort through the plot, and then figure out what to do next.
As for the people cursing her online?
Mouths belong to other people—let them say what they like. Words weren’t real blades; they couldn’t carve chunks of flesh off her.
But just as she reached the entrance of the hall, two figures blocked her path.
Lin Chen and Bai Anqi stood in front of her, his thin face wearing its usual gentle smile.
“Qinghuan, don’t rush off. Let’s talk.”
Shen Qinghuan’s steps faltered, and she sighed inwardly.
Here it comes—a classic scene from the book: the second wave of moral blackmail.
She remembered that in the original story, this was exactly when the original owner softened and gave up her spot, sealing her own doom.
Even the teachers at school who had favored the original owner stopped looking out for her after that.
Lin Chen sighed, his tone like that of someone coaxing a childish, unreasonable child.
“Qinghuan, you’re a genius. With talent like yours, what’s wrong with helping Anqi along a little? Your family is so well-off—shouldn’t you be more generous and kind?”
Bai Anqi stood behind him, stray strands of hair blown across her face by the wind, her eyes slightly red, her voice so soft it seemed she was afraid of disturbing something.
“Qinghuan, I really never meant to compete with you… It’s just that Lin Chen thinks—thinks you don’t really need this opportunity.”
Shen Qinghuan looked at the two of them and found the whole thing absurd.
She had just transmigrated over. She hadn’t even fully adapted to this body’s violin skills yet, and they were already pressuring her to give up her spot?
Lin Chen leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice, a hint of coldness slipping into his gentle tone.
“Qinghuan, your reputation online is already in bad shape. If you don’t give up the spot and don’t pay up, public opinion will only keep fermenting.”
He gazed at her earnestly, his eyes even carrying a touch of that classic East Asian “it’s for your own good” concern.
“The art world values reputation above all. Once you’re branded as a bully, all your future resources will be affected.”
“Think it over carefully. Is one performance spot really worth it?”
Bai Anqi lowered her head at just the right moment, her slender fingers tugging gently at Lin Chen’s sleeve.
“Lin Chen, stop pressuring Qinghuan… If she doesn’t want to, then forget it.”
Even as she spoke of backing off, Bai Anqi’s reddened eyes quietly lifted, stealing glances at Shen Qinghuan’s expression.
Shen Qinghuan closed her eyes briefly.
She recalled the original owner’s ending in the book—she gave up the spot, paid the money, and in the end the male and female leads went abroad sweetly together, living happily ever after.
Meanwhile, the original owner’s reputation was destroyed, and she died miserably on the street.
Even before transmigrating, Shen Qinghuan had found it infuriating to read. Now, there was no way she would repeat the original owner’s mistakes.
She opened her eyes, her tone flat and indifferent, as if looking at a pile of trash:
“Lin Chen, I’ll say this one last time. I will not give up the spot, and I won’t pay a single cent.”
“If you want to stir up public opinion, go ahead. I don’t care.”
Lin Chen’s face darkened, and the smile at the corner of his mouth finally slipped away.
Bai Anqi’s eyes grew redder still, but her voice rose several notches, carrying just the right amount of grievance:
“Qinghuan, how can you say that about us…”
Those words were like some kind of signal.
The Protagonist Halo kicked in.
The students who had merely stopped to watch began, as if on cue, to surge forward.
Some raised their phones at Shen Qinghuan, camera flashes lighting up one after another in the dusk—harsh and cold.
“She’s the one bullying people, right?”
“The internet says she throws her family’s weight around.”
“Film it, post it online, let everyone see.”
More and more students crowded around—some livestreaming, some loudly denouncing her.
Shen Qinghuan was trapped at the entrance of the hall, unable to advance or retreat.
Holding her instrument case, she stood where she was, her expression neither panicked nor angry—she merely frowned slightly.
So annoying.
Reborn with a second chance at life, all she wanted was to find a place to lie low. Why was that so hard?
The sky was growing dark, and some students were already threatening to write to the school administration demanding Shen Qinghuan’s concert tour eligibility be revoked.
At the top of the concert hall, in the VIP box.
Lu Shiyan stood before the floor-to-ceiling window, coldly overlooking everything unfolding at the entrance below.
The last trace of daylight reflected on the glass, tracing his silhouette with an air of aloof, detached coolness.
His face betrayed no emotion whatsoever, like a pool of still water.
The girl surrounded at the center of the crowd stood holding her instrument case, her back ramrod straight.
Facing the barrage of camera flashes and accusations, she showed no panic and offered no pleas.
Lu Shiyan looked away, his eyes holding no tenderness—only indifference.
He had never forgiven Shen Qinghuan for what she had done in the past.
The broken engagement, the estrangement, her walking away with nothing—each of those things had left him utterly disillusioned with his former fiancée.
He could have simply turned and left, letting the farce play itself out.
But—
Lu Shiyan looked down again.
He caught every one of Lin Chen’s words—words that feigned peacemaking while actually fanning the flames—and the shrewd calculation hidden behind those gentle eyes.
Fine. Consider it a favor to Uncle and Auntie of the Shen family.
Lu Shiyan picked up his phone and dialed his assistant.
His voice was soft, yet every word brooked no argument.
“Remove all the trending topics maliciously taking Shen Qinghuan’s words out of context.”
“Ban every marketing account stirring the pot.”
“Delete the smear posts on Jingda’s campus forum, and upload the full, unedited footage of what happened in the concert hall.”
With that, he hung up and slipped the phone back into his suit pocket.
His face remained expressionless throughout, his tone as cold as if he were handling some trivial piece of routine business.
Three minutes later.
The students who had been livestreaming suddenly discovered their streams had been forcibly cut off!
On the short-video platforms, every video tagged “wealthy heiress bullies classmate” vanished, as if it had never existed.
On the campus forum, the pinned smear posts were wiped clean, and the accounts that posted them were banned.
In their place was a complete, unedited video of the scene.
The video ran from Shen Qinghuan refusing to give up her spot, to Lin Chen’s threats and Bai Anqi playing the victim.
Every word, every expression, crystal clear—nothing cut.
The comment section began to turn.
“Wait, am I the only one who feels like Lin Chen is the one doing the moral blackmail here?”
“Is Bai Anqi really innocent? Why does her look seem a little… green tea?”
“So Shen Qinghuan just refused to give up her spot and pay up, and that counts as bullying?”
The onlooking students exchanged glances, slowly lowering their phones.
Someone muttered quietly, “It really does seem like no one saw her bully anyone,” but the voice quickly dissolved into the cold air, and no one picked it up.
Shen Qinghuan had no idea what had happened.
She only knew that the blinding camera flashes around her had suddenly stopped, and the clamor of voices had gradually died down.
Seizing the chance, she picked up her violin case and slipped swiftly through the crowd, walking away without a backward glance.
Only one thought occupied Shen Qinghuan’s mind: go home, practice hard, and then find an opportunity to go back to the Shen family and cling to its thigh!
She was already the eldest daughter of the family, and there was no sign of the original owner coming back—so surely it was fine for her to borrow her body and take it easy for a while, right?
As for Lin Chen and Bai Anqi, they could put on whatever show they liked. She couldn’t be bothered to play along.
The streetlights along Ginkgo Avenue flickered on one by one, stretching her shadow long, very long.
In the VIP box, Lu Shiyan still stood by the window.
He watched the girl’s figure as she left alone, violin case in hand, her steps light and lively, like a fawn bounding through the woods.
The light from the streetlamps fell on her shoulders, flickering bright and dim.
The emotions in his eyes were complicated.
But just now, that calm composure with which she had faced the crowd—offering no excuses, no pleas—had stirred something indescribable in his gaze.
Shen Qinghuan, the most pampered daughter of the Shen family, seemed somehow… different.
Was it just his imagination?