The morning after public opinion turned, Shen Qinghuan, unaccustomed to the bed, got up unusually early.
She threw on a loose hoodie, tied her hair up in a bun, and slipped on slippers to head downstairs for breakfast.
Morning light streamed through the cafeteria’s glass windows, filling the hall with warmth.
She couldn’t help but marvel, “The atmosphere on a university campus really is the best.”
When Shen Qinghuan walked up to the serving window, the cafeteria lady was busy ladling out porridge. Looking up and seeing her, she greeted her with a smile.
“What would you like today, dear?”
Shen Qinghuan’s eyes curved, her voice softer than usual:
“Good morning! I’d like a bowl of millet porridge and a tea egg, please.”
The lady froze for a moment.
This young lady of the Shen family used to always come to the cafeteria trailing after the academic star and campus heartthrob Lin Chen.
Every time, she’d wear full makeup and carefully coordinated designer clothes, yet Lin Chen would treat her coldly.
Today, she came by herself.
And usually, whenever Shen Qinghuan ordered food, she’d give everyone the cold shoulder—why so polite today?
Kids these days eat so little. No wonder she’s so thin.
“Coming right up—I’ll pick a big egg for you.” The lady smiled and added an extra one to her tray.
Shen Qinghuan took the tray and said earnestly, “Thank you, ma’am,” before turning to find a seat.
Watching her walk away, the lady muttered to a colleague beside her:
“That girl seems like a different person today.”
Shen Qinghuan sat down with her tray and had barely taken a sip of porridge when the chatter from the next table drifted into her ears.
“Did you see the forum? The full video of Shen Qinghuan came out. Lin Chen is unbelievable—the number one gold-digger who acts all high and mighty about it.”
“Should’ve seen through him ages ago. Only Shen Qinghuan was blind before.”
“But honestly, Bai Anqi’s little scheme was pretty disgusting too. She always acts like such an innocent little rabbit.”
Another girl lowered her voice, her tone carrying a hint of indignation.
“If Shen Qinghuan hadn’t been so cold and standoffish before, how would the campus belle title ever have gone to Bai Anqi?”
“Just look at that face, that aura—she leaves Bai Anqi in the dust, okay?”
“Shh, keep it down, don’t let anyone hear.”
Shen Qinghuan lowered her head and sipped her porridge, her face expressionless, but her ears caught every word.
Campus belle? Sure, she looked identical to the original owner… but surely not?
Shen Qinghuan shook her head slightly and continued contentedly eating her tea egg.
After breakfast, Shen Qinghuan carried her tray to the return station.
The cafeteria lady took the tray and said with a smile, “Take care, dear.”
Shen Qinghuan nodded and said again, “Thank you, ma’am. You’ve worked hard.”
The lady’s eyes curved into crescent moons as she watched her leave.
She hadn’t taken more than a few steps out of the cafeteria when a figure darted out from behind the plane trees by the road.
Lin Chen stood there, the whites of his eyes visibly bloodshot, as if he’d stayed up all night.
“Qinghuan, can we talk?”
Shen Qinghuan stopped in her tracks and looked at him expressionlessly. “I don’t think we’re close enough for you to be calling me by my name, do we?”
Lin Chen lowered his head, his voice deliberately hoarse and humble. “Qing… Classmate Shen, I was wrong before.”
“I shouldn’t have pressured you like that. It’s just… I just felt too sorry for Anqi. You know she’s had no parents since she was little.”
He raised his head, his eyes rimmed with red:
“But I really didn’t mean to hurt you. Qinghuan, we’ve known each other for so long—you know I’m not that kind of person. I don’t want to lose you. Can’t you give me one more chance?”
Shen Qinghuan looked at him and was silent for two seconds.
“Lin Chen, you’re not here out of guilt. You’re here because without me as your ATM, you can’t prop up your white moonlight anymore, can you?”
Lin Chen’s face went pale, and his lips moved.
Shen Qinghuan didn’t give him a chance to speak. Her voice wasn’t loud, but every word was crystal clear.
“The Shen Qinghuan of the past is dead. Don’t ever appear in front of me again.”
With that, she walked around him and headed straight toward her apartment.
Lin Chen stood frozen in place. The morning light fell on him, but it couldn’t warm that ashen face.
Back at her apartment, Shen Qinghuan had barely sat down when her phone rang.
The caller ID showed Professor Zhou.
“Qinghuan, the Tianlai Zhi Sheng orchestra got back to me. They’re very pleased with your performance video—the spot is officially yours.”
Tianlai Zhi Sheng was the orchestra the original owner had competed against Bai Anqi to join.
Shen Qinghuan held the phone and gave a soft “mm.”
Professor Zhou’s voice carried rare excitement.
“But they have an overseas tour coming up, so you’ll have to wait a few months before officially joining training. Don’t slack off in the meantime—keep up your form!”
“Okay, thank you, Professor Zhou.”
“You child, you’re finally showing some manners…”
After hanging up, Shen Qinghuan set the phone on the table, the corners of her mouth curving slightly.
In the practice building of the music conservatory, Bai Anqi sat in a corner, scrolling through her phone.
The news of Shen Qinghuan’s admission to Tianlai Zhi Sheng had already spread across the forum.
Every congratulatory comment about Shen Qinghuan stabbed at her heart like needles.
Why? Why? Why?!!
All that Shen Qinghuan had was a pretty face and a good family background.
If she were the one with those material advantages…
Bai Anqi flipped her phone face-down on the table, took a deep breath, and opened WeChat.
She sent messages to a few senior students and teachers she was familiar with.
“Senior, have you heard that there was something shady behind Shen Qinghuan’s spot?”
“Professor, I really think Shen Qinghuan’s character makes her unfit to represent the school in performances. Would you consider reconsidering?”
After sending the messages, Bai Anqi leaned back in her chair, her eyes gradually filling with venom.
At the Shen family villa, in a second-floor bedroom.
Mother Shen, Jiang Bihua, leaned against the headboard, phone in hand.
On the screen was a photo of Shen Qinghuan eating at the school cafeteria, sitting alone in a corner, quiet and still.
Jiang Bihua looked at it for a long time, her eyes gradually reddening.
“Old Zhou says she’s living in the school dormitory now. It’s a small place, she’s all alone, and she only has a hundred thousand yuan left…”
Father Shen sat on the edge of the bed, listening in silence, his fingers tapping lightly on his knee.
“It’s the path she chose. Who can she blame?” His tone was gruff, but there was an unmistakable trace of heartache in his eyes.
Jiang Bihua closed her eyes, and a tear slid down her cheek.
She remembered when her daughter was little, standing in the middle of the living room holding her violin, her smile bright, saying she would become the world’s greatest violinist.
When did things start to change?
After starting university, Qinghuan met that boy named Lin Chen.
From then on, her daughter seemed like a different person, growing more and more distant.
Jiang Bihua opened her eyes, her voice a little hoarse: “There’s only a hundred thousand left in the account. She must have suffered a lot out there on her own.”
Father Shen didn’t reply, only reached out and gently patted the back of his wife’s hand.
In the heart of Jingcheng, in Lu Shiyan’s penthouse office.
Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows stretched the glittering city skyline. He sat at his desk with a dignified bearing, a document spread out before him.
His assistant stood to one side, reporting in a low voice.
“Mr. Lu, Bai Anqi has started making moves. She’s been privately contacting several teachers and senior students at the music academy, spreading rumors that Miss Shen’s spot was obtained through insider connections.”
Lu Shiyan’s hand paused as he flipped through the document, and he lifted his eyes.
“Keep watching her. If it affects the Tianlai Zhi Sheng review, hand the evidence straight over to the orchestra.”
The assistant nodded. “Understood.”
Lu Shiyan leaned back in his chair, his gaze drifting out the window.
His disgust for Shen Qinghuan remained as intense as ever—those past events weren’t so easily erased.
But someone like Bai Anqi, who only played dirty tricks in the shadows, was someone he couldn’t stand either.
Yes, that’s exactly it, he emphasized to himself.
As the assistant turned to leave, Lu Shiyan added one more thing.
“Don’t let her find out.”
He didn’t specify which “her” he meant, but the assistant understood perfectly.
The assistant acknowledged the order and respectfully closed the door behind him.