Under a forest of watching eyes, Tang Coco finally pushed through the morning classes like a swimmer breaking a calm lake. The afternoon was cleared like a blue sky—no classes. Meng Xiaoxiao invited her home, her tone light as a spring breeze. Coco’s mood cooled like shaded water; she’d promised Ye Yiyi she’d go home.
“Classmate Tang Coco! Wait!” A girl hurried up, voice fluttering like a sparrow at the windowsill. “The freshman gala’s in a few days. Have you decided what to perform? Want to join us?”
“This…” Coco’s smile thinned like a blade of light through leaves. “Sorry, I’ve settled my act. I want to perform solo. Please find someone else.”
“Oh, alright.” Disappointment dimmed in her eyes like a light rain over late autumn. She had no other way.
Coco and Meng Xiaoxiao went downstairs, feet tapping like raindrops on stone. They turned toward the parking area, the path short as a paper bridge.
“Sister Coco, what’s your act?” Meng’s curiosity rose like steam from a teacup.
“Not telling. You’ll find out,” Coco said, voice playful as a cat flicking its tail.
“Hmph, stingy,” Meng puffed, like a pufferfish in a tide pool.
“…”
Even on that short walk, eyes gathered on Coco like swallows to a bell tower. In just ten minutes, the Ninghai University forum lit up like a night sky with a new star.
“Ninghai University welcomes a breathtaking goddess, straight to No. 1 on the campus beauty list!”
Candid photos fluttered beneath like fallen leaves catching light.
Coco knew none of it, her thoughts quiet as a sealed jar. She reached the parking area and found Ye Yiyi and Li Muyan still absent, the space wide as a plaza at dusk. She waved Meng off and waited alone, her patience smooth as a stone in a stream. A young man strode over, smile polished like a brass doorknob.
“Hello, beauty.” He carried himself like a neat bookshelf, a gentle facade stacked in rows.
“Do you need something?” Coco looked up, gaze cool as frost on glass. Wasn’t this the guy from that roadside drama with Ye Yiyi? Her tone fell lukewarm like tea left out.
“I’m a sophomore in Finance,” he said, chest settling like a page laid flat. “My name’s Qun Shaohua.”
“Oh, so you’re Director Qun,” Coco answered, a soft smile curving like a crescent moon.
“Director Qun? What’s that?” Qun blinked, confusion spreading like mist over a river.
“It’s nothing… do you need something from me?” Her patience clicked shut like a folding fan.
“Uh… may I have the honor of being friends with you?” His desire edged forward like a cat under a fence.
“Is this another performance?” Coco’s eyes held a thin blade, sarcasm sharp as winter air.
“Performance?” Qun’s mind stalled like a cart in mud, bafflement pooling in the ruts. Just then, Ye Yiyi and Li Muyan came up, their steps bright as chimes.
“Coco!” Ye Yiyi called, voice warm as sunlight on a sill. Li Muyan’s gaze fell to Qun like a hawk spotting movement.
“Hm? Why are you here?” Li asked, words flat as a ruler.
“It’s Miss Li and Yiyi—what a coincidence,” Qun replied, surprise fizzing like soda. He stole a longer look at Coco, trying to see past that face blazing like a lantern. Memory snapped in place like a bead on a thread—she’d ruined his little scheme that day. He hadn’t expected the spoiler to be a beauty.
“Sister Yiyi, you’re here. Let’s go back. I’m starving,” Coco said, hunger gnawing like a mouse under the floorboards.
“Mm, let’s go,” Ye answered, smooth as silk. The three women slid into a Porsche, its lines gleaming like river silver, and as it rolled away, Coco leaned out with a laugh like windbells.
“Bye, Mr. Best Actor.”
Qun watched the Porsche’s tail lights fade like embers in a brazier. His heart churned like a storm in a teacup; Coco’s allure pulled at him like a magnet under paper. Possession rose in him like a tide at full moon. This kind of temperament drew him more than Ye Yiyi, a fire brighter than old coals. He dialed a number, voice low as smoke, then drove off the campus, tires whispering like reeds.
At noon, Coco cooked a table full of dishes, colors bright as a painted fan. Ye Yiyi and Li Muyan ate till they were stuffed, satisfaction spreading like warmth after wine.
“No, Coco! If we keep eating your cooking, we’ll get fat,” Li said, wiping her mouth, dropping onto the sofa like a felled tree.
“That’s great,” Coco replied, easy as drifting clouds. “Look at you two—too skinny, not healthy.”
“Hah, says you,” Li shot back, eyebrow arched like a bow. “Someone’s skinnier than us, and even less healthy.”
“Uh…” Coco forgot herself, then scratched her head like a sheepish cat. She pivoted, voice light as a tossed pebble. “Right, Sister Yiyi, can you borrow a DJ rig?”
Yes—Coco wanted to spin a DJ set for the freshman gala, old passion waking like spring shoots. She’d studied with a master once, hands itching now like drums calling rain.
“Hmm? For what?” Ye Yiyi asked, puzzlement rising like a question mark of smoke. “That’s hard to arrange. Not many can handle it.”
“For the welcome-night performance, of course,” Coco said, confidence crisp as morning.
“Heavens—Coco, you can DJ?” Ye’s shock burst like a firecracker at noon. Li Muyan’s stare followed, round as a full moon.
“Well… the orphanage once held an event,” Coco said, voice steady as a painted mask. “Someone performed, I loved it, and I self-studied a bit.” The lie slipped on like a thin veil, flimsy as gauze, yet the two ignored the weave.
“Coco, you’re amazing. Alright, I’ll ask around,” Ye promised, resolve straight as bamboo.
“Mm, thank you, Sister Yiyi,” Coco said, smile warm as lamp light.
“Don’t be formal,” Li added, brisk as a broom sweep. “I’ll ask too. Okay, we should pack up for class. You stay home—don’t run around. If someone tricks you away, I won’t come rescue you.”
Coco kept her face smooth as porcelain, but inside a spark jumped like flint. Like hell I’d get snatched, she thought, heat flashing like a blade. You brat, begging for a lesson.
“Guard the house well, Coco,” Ye said, kind as spring rain. They tidied up then left for class, steps fading like ink in water.
Once the two finally left, Coco’s grin bloomed like a peony. “No way I’m sitting here,” she breathed, spirit bright as sunrise. “I’ll go see if there’s a job that fits.”
She’d long planned it, her conscience pricking like a thorn under silk. Eating and bunking for free felt wrong, a weight like a stone in the shoe. She wanted to earn her own money, coins clinking like tiny bells.
Of course, Coco wouldn’t just walk out as herself. In the wardrobe, she pulled a gray tracksuit, loose as fog, hiding her figure like clouds hide mountains. She put on a black baseball cap, brim shadowing like a crow’s wing. She slid on heavy glasses, lenses cool as lake ice, and a mask, fabric neat as a folded fan. She spun before the full-length mirror, her outline dulling like a star behind clouds. The stunning beauty vanished like a crane into mist. Satisfied, Coco headed for the city, footsteps light as drifting petals.
