After about half an hour, the door to the art studio was gently pushed open.
Jiang Muyun walked in, holding a cup of steaming coffee.
“Yan Yu, you’re already here? So early.”
She greeted her with a smile, her voice as soft as always. “I thought I’d come early to get ready, but you’re still faster than me.”
“Mm.”
Yan Yu didn’t look up, focusing on the lines in front of her.
Jiang Muyun didn’t seem to mind her indifference. She set down her coffee, took off her coat, and revealed the knitted sweater underneath.
She walked over to another drawing board, glanced at Yan Yu’s rough draft, which had already taken shape, and let out a soft compliment, “Oh, Yan Yu, your drawing is so detailed. Your lines are really steady.”
Yan Yu’s brush paused for a moment. She didn’t respond.
She had heard this kind of polite praise many times before. It only felt insincere.
Jiang Muyun fell silent as well and began sketching on her own drawing board.
The studio grew quiet, filled only with the rustling sound of pencils across paper and the occasional clink of Jiang Muyun lifting her coffee cup.
Yan Yu quickly finished her draft and started mixing colors, ready to paint in peace.
But Jiang Muyun, on her side, never seemed to stay still.
She would occasionally walk over, check on Yan Yu’s progress, and ask a trivial question or two, like, “This blue looks really nice. What color did you mix in?” or “Wouldn’t the edges have more depth if you handled them like this?”
Yan Yu answered with the shortest possible responses, avoiding further conversation.
Time slowly passed.
Yan Yu had already laid down the background color for her poster and started working on the main character and details.
Just then.
“Oh!”
A low exclamation came from beside her.
At the same time, Yan Yu felt something slam into her elbow!
Her hand, holding a fine brush, jerked. A streak of lake-blue color cut across the blank area, ruining the once-clean image.
To make matters worse, the impact against her elbow also seemed to knock over a nearby wash bucket filled with clean water.
“Splash!”
A small amount of water spilled out. Even though Yan Yu quickly moved her drawing away, the edge of the paper was still soaked, causing the ink to bleed into a messy patch.
Jiang Muyun acted so guilty and flustered that anyone who saw it would believe it was truly an accident.
Huang Lu’s gaze swept over the messy floor, then at Yan Yu’s painting, nearly a third of which was ruined.
He turned to Yan Yu and asked in an official tone, “Yan Yu, is it serious? Can you still finish it? The cultural festival warm-up starts the day after tomorrow. The poster needs to be ready by tomorrow.”
Yan Yu pressed her lips together tightly.
She could feel the eyes on her—some sympathetic, some curious.
Jiang Muyun still had her head lowered, her expression unreadable, but she had already perfected her act of helpless fragility.
Yan Yu knew that if she angrily accused Jiang Muyun of doing it on purpose right now, she would only come off as aggressive, overreacting, and relentless.
Suppressing the cold fury boiling inside her, Yan Yu’s voice had returned to calm when she spoke again.
“The parts of the drawing that got soaked can’t be used. I need to re-sketch this background, or find a way to cover it up and fix it.”
She paused. “But my volunteer work hours only go until 5:00 PM today. After 5:00, I have to go out and buy medicine.”
“So, Jiang, since you ruined the drawing, you’ll have to finish the rest.”
“Why?!”
Jiang Muyun shot up from her seat. The chair scraping against the floor made a sharp sound. “Why should I have to work overtime alone? Yes, I bumped into you, but it was just an accident! Do you understand what an accident is? I already apologized! Can’t you just be flexible, leave a little later, and finish the work together?”
She turned to Huang Lu, her words tumbling out fast, her voice full of grievance and anger:
“President, we’re a team. The task should be shared. How can she abandon her team members and leave just because of a small accident? Isn’t that completely irresponsible?”
“I abandoned my team members?”
Yan Yu finally stopped the hand she was using to patch up the painting. She slowly looked up, her gaze calm as she stared at Jiang Muyun.
“Then what do you call ruining a team member’s hard work? Fulfilling your responsibility? Or brushing it off with a light ‘I didn’t mean to’?”
“Yan Yu! You—!”
Jiang Muyun’s face turned pale from being cornered like that. Her chest heaved violently, and the finger she pointed at Yan Yu trembled uncontrollably.
She instinctively glanced around, meeting the surprised looks of the other classmates, and felt a complete loss of face. The shame of being publicly shut down clouded her judgment, and she blurted out whatever came to mind.
“If you keep being so unreasonable, I’ll call Qinghan over! She’s nearby! Let her judge this!”
She completely disregarded Huang Lu’s presence, tossing aside the gentle image she had carefully maintained. In a fury, she turned around, clacked her heels quickly, and walked toward the other end of the studio, heading to the corridor leading to the student council’s temporary office.
Su Qinghan was indeed not far away.
As the head of publicity and imaging coordination for this year’s cultural festival, she was in the next room verifying shooting locations and procedures with the student council members.
Just as she was midway through her work, she saw Jiang Muyun walking quickly toward her with red-rimmed eyes and an angry expression. Her brows furrowed.
“Qinghan!”
As soon as Jiang Muyun saw her, tears started rolling down her cheeks like a broken string of pearls. Her voice choked with grievance, barely forming words. “Come help me… Yan Yu is bullying me!”
Su Qinghan set down the documents in her hand and looked at Jiang Muyun’s tear-streaked face, asking in a low voice, “What happened? Speak slowly.”
Jiang Muyun, sobbing intermittently, quickly recounted the incident.
“…I already apologized and said I would help fix it, but she just wouldn’t let it go. She even embarrassed me in front of everyone! Qinghan, you have to stand up for me!”
She clung tightly to Su Qinghan’s arm, looking at her with tear-filled eyes and pleading bitterly.
Su Qinghan’s brows furrowed even tighter. She glanced toward the art studio, then at Jiang Muyun, who was crying like a flower wet with rain. In the end, she nodded.
“Let’s go. I’ll take a look.”
Meanwhile, the atmosphere near the drawing board was heavy and stifling.
Huang Lu’s face was grim, but he said nothing more. He simply instructed the other members to continue with their work.
Yan Yu picked up her brush again, dipped it in paint, and focused on trying to cover up and fix the glaring stain on her drawing board.
Her movements were steady and calm. Her expression was serene, as if the fierce argument had never happened.
But only she knew that, deep down, a faint, barely perceptible ripple stirred within her when Jiang Muyun mentioned Su Qinghan.
‘Su Qinghan… Will she come?’
‘And if she does, whose side will she be on?’
Her reason kept telling her that, given Su Qinghan’s usual protectiveness of Jiang Muyun, coupled with the current state of their relationship, she probably wouldn’t get a fair deal.
Yet, for some reason, deep in the corner of her heart stirred by the remnants of the original host’s emotions, a faint, almost nonexistent hope lingered—perhaps Su Qinghan was different from Jiang Muyun.
At least in those fragmented but deliberately beautified memories of the original host, Su Qinghan had always been calm, even fair, when handling official matters.
Would she… at least ask for the whole story first?