Nangong Ruihui froze for a moment, then roughly swatted the potato chips from Mu Yao’s hand. “Like I’d taste that!”

“Ruihui, you—!”

Mu Yao stood stunned. When had she become so unreasonable? This wasn’t the Nangong Ruihui she knew at all.

Mu Yao rose to her feet. Nangong Ruihui immediately stood too, face stern, turning to leave for the dorm.

“Nangong Ruihui! If you walk away today, I’ll never speak to you again!” Mu Yao shouted, frustration burning in her voice.

But Nangong Ruihui didn’t pause. She quickened her steps, acting as if she hadn’t heard a word.

Mu Yao stood frozen. So it was all wishful thinking. Nangong Ruihui didn’t care about her. Of course—how could someone like her ever truly look up to Mu Yao? She’d thought she understood her personality. How laughable. She didn’t even know why she was angry.

Most of the chips lay scattered on the floor. Mu Yao crouched, picked one up, licked it. Bitter.

...

Inside the dorm, Nangong Ruihui clutched her pillow tightly, shoulders trembling as if sobbing—but her eyes stayed dry.

“Yaoyao… I’m sorry… I—I was really happy. Truly happy…”

She bit the pillow’s edge and curled into the corner of her narrow bed against the wall.

She was, after all, just a girl. Girls carried less innate security than boys. The strong front she showed the world hid a fragile side meant only for herself. She couldn’t afford to falter. Not when she couldn’t bear to disappoint her father’s gaze.

Tomorrow, she’d apologize to Mu Yao properly. She’d lost her composure. Mu Yao must’ve misunderstood…

Back at the girls’ dorm, Mu Yao moved listlessly, as if a piece of her soul had vanished. Zhou Yuan, who’d been anxiously waiting, rushed over.

“Good heavens, what happened to you?”

“Nothing. Just thinking.”

Afraid Zhou Yuan would notice her distress, Mu Yao smoothed her expression into a faint smile. “Zhou Yuan… can I ask you something?”

“Sure. I know my way around both the academy and the company,” Zhou Yuan nodded.

“Do you know a senior named Xia Xi?”

“Xia Xi? How do you know her? She’s the young mistress of the Xia Clan—and Leji Entertainment is theirs. If you ever meet her, stay on her good side. It’d help your future a lot.”

Zhou Yuan barely knew Xia Xi—just a passing acquaintance. Once, she’d greeted her at the company; Xia Xi acted like she didn’t exist. Zhou Yuan wasn’t fond of her—Nangong Ruihui left a far better impression. Still, work and personal feelings were separate. Xia Xi had no reason to scorn her own top artist.

“I just… want to learn a bit about her,” Mu Yao said shyly, sitting on the bed to sip water.

“Mu… Yao… classmate—you don’t *like* her, do you?! Bold move. Everyone secretly calls her ‘Black Widow.’ Liking her? Are you trying to get yourself vanished? Honestly, crushing on Nangong Ruihui sounds safer! And don’t you *dare* repeat this—if she hears it, I’m transferring!”

“No, no! You’re imagining things. Just asking~”

Mu Yao nearly choked, spraying water across the sheets. Calling someone “Black Widow” was way too harsh.

“Fine, I’ll tell you. Xia Xi, third-year at Yingshengya Academy—infamously fierce. Yet her icy aura, curvaceous figure, and angel-kissed face draw suitors. None succeeded,” Zhou Yuan said.

“Huh? Why? There are plenty of great guys here.”

“Plenty, sure. She’s not against dating. It’s her conditions…” Zhou Yuan hesitated.

“What conditions?”

“Three. One: a guy who matches ‘Elder Sister’s’ level. Two: someone who can beat her. Three: a guy with a pure, innocent smile…”

Zhou Yuan trailed off. Wasn’t that basically impossible? Who on earth reached Elder Sister’s level? Who could beat her? The smile part seemed plausible… until you heard the rumors: boys who smiled at her vanished from campus.

“This…” Mu Yao fell silent. Big-family heirs really were… eccentric.

“If you’re *really* chasing her—she’s down to two conditions now. Try becoming ‘Elder Sister,’ then smile from afar. If she chases you? Run. Don’t look back.” Zhou Yuan wiped her brow. That was all she could offer. Fortune favors the bold. And hey—Xia Xi said she wouldn’t touch pretty girls. So Mu Yao was *relatively* safe. Relatively.

Thanks to Principal Long Yue’s help, Zhou Yuan had recently slipped into the student council (passing Nangong Ruihui’s strict screening wasn’t easy). With council archives at her fingertips, she’d become Yingshengya’s unofficial gossip hub.

“Well… you get it, right? The Xia Clan’s rising fast. How could their heiress settle for ordinary? If I were her…” Zhou Yuan let the sentence hang.

“Zhou Yuan, I never expected you…” Mu Yao pointed, then dropped her hand. “So… what’s the link between Xia Xi and Lan Xi?”

“No link. Xia Xi is her real name. Lan Xi—the unmatched singer in the capital—is just her stage name.”

“Oh, I get it~”

“Actually,” Zhou Yuan’s shadow stretched as the light flickered. “Classmate Mu Yao… care to explain that *thrilling* post about you and Nangong Ruihui? How did your mouth get… *intimate* with her lower half?”

Mu Yao paled. “No! Not like that! It was in class! I was crying on her lap—*through her pants*!!”

“Oh?” Zhou Yuan smirked. “So *she* made you cry? Which body part was involved? What *exactly* happened behind closed doors? Spill.”

*This is it. Even jumping into the Huangpu River wouldn’t clear my name…*

Only despair and helplessness remained.

—Regret.