“Sister?”
Su Qinghan froze for a moment, her gaze darting between Yan Yu and Bai Yan’er, as if just remembering the connection between them.
But that connection clearly wasn’t enough to change her attitude.
“Even if Yan Yu is your sister, the conclusion is still the same,” Su Qinghan said, standing up and resuming her usual condescending posture. “What happened between Mu Yun and me, and her, is a private matter. It’s also coordination for this volunteer work. Bai Yan’er, you have no standing to interfere. Please don’t meddle.”
“I…”
“Yan’er.”
Just as Bai Yan’er was about to say something else, a cold hand gently grasped her wrist.
Yan Yu had raised her hand at some point, her fingertips trembling, but the force carried an unyielding sense of restraint.
Bai Yan’er turned back and met Yan Yu’s eyes.
Those eyes, usually calm and distant, occasionally tinged with illness, were now clouded with fragmented, glistening tears.
Yan Yu’s eyes and the tip of her nose were flushed a fragile red. She wasn’t looking at Bai Yan’er; her gaze crossed over her shoulder, locked tightly, unwaveringly onto Su Qinghan’s face.
There was too much in that gaze—disappointment, pain, shock, disbelief, and the humiliation of being deeply wounded.
“Don’t say anymore…”
Yan Yu’s voice was low, thick with nasal congestion. Her fingers holding Bai Yan’er’s wrist tightened slightly, as if drawing some support.
Bai Yan’er’s heart felt like it had been wrung tight. In an instant, all words to retort Su Qinghan died on her lips, leaving only overwhelming pity.
Looking at Su Qinghan, large tears rolled down Yan Yu’s cheeks, streaking across her pale face.
She didn’t raise a hand to wipe them away—to make the act more realistic, Yan Yu let the tears flow freely, her voice trembling as she questioned Su Qinghan.
“Qinghan… we at least once loved each other. Even if it was all a lie, do you… really have to treat me like this?”
She pressed a hand to her chest, her voice shattering, every word seeming soaked in bitterness.
“These three years… have I been bad to you? I… I liked you so much… I did everything you said, imitated her… When I was sick, when I was in pain, I didn’t dare tell you, afraid you’d think I was a burden…”
“Yes, I’m poor. I need money for treatment… but… but what did you give me, besides those clothes that ‘looked like her,’ besides the occasional painkillers you threw at me, besides the house rented until the end of the month?”
“Now… now you’re holding this card… are you trying to buy off these three pathetic years of mine, or buy my silence, so I can keep playing the fool, being grateful to you and her?”
She was crying so hard her whole body trembled, her chest heaving violently, barely able to breathe.
The pent-up emotion inside her—a mix of the original host’s deep suffering and her own icy anger—burst like a dam breaking, overwhelming all rational defenses and pouring out.
“Su Qinghan… you don’t understand anything… you don’t understand anything at all…”
She couldn’t continue. She abruptly turned her head, burying her face in the crook of her arm, her thin shoulders shaking uncontrollably.
Muffled, broken sobs escaped from her arm, echoing in the deathly silent art studio.
The crying wasn’t loud, but it carried a devastating force that made all the onlookers around show pity, averting their gazes.
Bai Yan’er felt like her heart was about to crack from pain.
She immediately turned, half-knelt down, and opened her arms to loosely encircle Yan Yu’s trembling shoulders, offering support but not daring to hold too tightly.
She lifted her head and looked at Su Qinghan, her eyes no longer carrying the polite distance of usual days, but filled with cold anger and contempt.
“Senior Su,” Bai Yan’er said coldly, “all you talk about is money. Have you been the high-and-mighty heiress of the Su family for so long that you think everyone should grovel at your feet, measured by the charity you toss around, including other people’s feelings and dignity?”
Su Qinghan’s face turned pale from the sting of her words. Her lips moved, wanting to retort, but the phrase, “That’s not what I meant,” got stuck in her throat, and she couldn’t utter a single word.
She just… just wanted to solve the problem in the most direct and efficient way.
Yan Yu needed money, so she gave it.
Jiang Muyun was delicate, so she told Yan Yu to be more accommodating.
What was wrong with that? Why had things turned out like this?
“My sister said she won’t do it, so she won’t,” Bai Yan’er said, each word crisp and decisive, her gaze sweeping over the glaring bank card in Su Qinghan’s hand. “Put away your card. Stop using money to insult people.”
“You…”
The knuckles on Su Qinghan’s fingers holding the bank card turned white. A stifling anger lodged in her chest.
She was used to controlling the situation, used to solving problems with resources and rules, but she had never faced such blunt, sharp criticism of her behavior, especially in front of so many people.
For once, she was speechless, unsure how to respond.
Jiang Muyun watched anxiously from the side.
She hadn’t expected things to escalate this far, nor had she anticipated Yan Yu’s emotional breakdown or Bai Yan’er’s fierce stance.
Seeing Su Qinghan seem at a loss, she quickly stepped forward, grabbing Su Qinghan’s arm, her voice pleading. “Qinghan, forget it, forget it… It’s all my fault, I was careless… Don’t argue with them anymore. As for the painting… the painting, we can find another way, okay?”
At this moment, she was genuinely panicked.
Escalating the situation wouldn’t do her carefully maintained image any favors.
Su Qinghan looked at Jiang Muyun’s red-rimmed eyes, then at Bai Yan’er beside Yan Yu, her eyes cold and hostile, and at the whispering crowd. A deep irritation surged within her.
She closed her eyes.
“…Fine.”
She finally spoke, her voice a bit hoarse.
She tucked the bank card back into her bag, as if it were a hot potato.
Then, she turned to the silent observer, President Huang.
“President Huang, the poster can’t be delayed. Since Student Yan Yu has limited time and is emotionally unstable, it’s indeed not suitable for her to continue the remaining work.”
She paused, her gaze sweeping over Jiang Muyun. “Muyun alone might struggle too. I know two junior girls from the Painting Club with solid skills, and they happen to be free today. I’ll ask them to come help and assist Muyun in finishing the rest.”
“Any additional costs or compensation arising from this will be covered by me personally. I’ll ensure the poster is completed on time and with quality tomorrow. What do you think?”
This was almost the fastest way to settle things.
President Huang looked at Yan Yu leaning against Bai Yan’er, then at the grim-faced Su Qinghan and the teary-eyed Jiang Muyun, and finally nodded.
“Alright. We’ll do as Senior Su says. Student Yan Yu, you can go rest now. Thank you for your hard work today.”
Thus, the matter was hastily concluded in a way that seemed to punish both sides equally, while forcibly filling the gap with external resources.