Chapter 19

The memory of that night, of the soul-stirring kiss, brought her mind back to a particularly stimulating scene. In that moment, Ming Yufu’s expression had been hazy, like a half-opened blossom on a branch, extending an invitation to plunge into the deep sea.

Meng Li licked her lips, the tips of her ears burning. She let down her ponytail, running her fingers through her hair a few times; the seaweed-like curls hid the crimson on her ears.

And hid those sultry memories.

She set down her water glass, bit her lower lip, and raised her fingers as if taking an oath. With a graceful smile, she said, “I’ll keep your secret.”

Ming Yufu lowered her eyes, her tone unhurried. “It’s fine. Even if it were made public, the media wouldn’t believe it.”

“Hah, how can you think the media is so kind?” Meng Li knit her fine brows, her features becoming animated. “Many media outlets will do anything for traffic—writing fake news to grab attention and feasting on tragedy. It’s terrifying.”

Gossip and rumors can damage a reputation at best and destroy a life at worst. Meanwhile, those who fabricate lies gain traffic and wealth, yet they are rarely held accountable, usually remaining aloof and getting away scot-free.

The look of concern in Meng Li’s eyes was like a fallen leaf drifting onto the water, stirring a ripple in the depths of Ming Yufu’s gaze. No media outlet was capable of making the head of the Ming family ​read the original at bailiantales.com​stumble—unless they didn’t want to stay in the journalism industry any longer.

“Then I’ll leave it to you.”

“Rest assured, I definitely won’t say a word to a soul. I won’t let a fourth person know.”

Meng Li’s peach-blossom eyes were as bright as stars, shimmering with light. “Even if someone offered me a hundred million, I wouldn’t utter half a syllable.”

“A hundred million…” Ming Yufu murmured under her breath.

The girl truly never missed a moment to express her affection. Even after being rejected, she still compared her love to money, elevating a heart that could not be corroded by wealth.

“What if it were two hundred million?” Ming Yufu looked at her.

“Still no. Even three hundred million wouldn’t do.” Meng Li’s eyes crinkled, her smile curving like a crescent moon. “Two or three hundred million is too unrealistic. You’d be better off asking me if I’d agree to the deal for twenty or thirty thousand.”

“You wouldn’t,” Ming Yufu answered for her.

During the first audition for the Arts Gala, Meng Li performed a piece titled Jewels Falling.

The strings vibrated beneath her fingertips, the melody lingering like rain slowly falling into a lake—the sound was gurgling, leisurely, and elegant.

When the music ended, the room fell silent for several seconds. The teachers and several members of the Student Union could not hide their amazement and shock.

“Not bad. How long have you been playing?”

According to the audition process, the next student should have been called in, but the teacher sitting in the middle couldn’t help but ask more.

“I’ve been learning since elementary school,” Meng Li answered.

Back then, it was popular to enroll children in youth classes. Even if the two adults fought every day over trivial matters, they were unprecedentedly unified in their educational philosophy: their daughter had to have a specialty. Her mother gave her three choices—piano, guzheng, or classical dance. Meng Li chose the guzheng, and from then on, she took the bus back and forth every Saturday to the Children’s Palace for a one-hour lesson.

The teacher said, “True masters are found among the people. I look forward unauthorized copy to seeing your performance at the gala.”

“Teacher, we’ve already confirmed one guzheng solo,” the head of the University Arts Department reminded him.

“It’s not ‘confirmed.’ Until the final selection is made, everything is an unknown,” the teacher stated. “Meng Li, right? Go back and wait for the notification.”

Meng Li nodded. “Thank you, Teacher.”

As she headed out, she turned her head and caught the gaze of the head of the Arts Department. The other woman’s eyes were dark, her expression unfriendly; upon closer inspection, there was a trace of displeased hostility.

Meng Li headed to the library. After finishing her math, it was time for her usual relaxation. She opened her tablet and logged onto Weibo.

The giveaway results were automatically announced by the system. She sent a private message to the winning fan, asking what kind of drawing they wanted.

[I can draw animals or people. If it’s a text-based prompt, I’ll need some detailed descriptions~]

[Cheesy Chocolate: Ahhh! Thank you, Goddess, for picking me!]

[Cheesy Chocolate: I’m an Omega in high school. My life idol is President Ming, who went to Fu University. I dream of becoming her junior! So, I hope the Goddess can draw a picture of my idol at 18 to inspire me! [Rose]]

An eighteen-year-old Ming Yufu?

Meng Li imagined it. She would probably look much like she did now, but a size smaller, with a facial expression less stern and cold. Amused by her own imagination, the corners of Meng Li’s lips tilted upward.

[A Little Oriole: Of course. I wish you success in your studies and that your dreams come true! Do you have any requirements for the content or setting of the drawing?]

The top of the chat box showed “typing…” and before long, Cheesy Chocolate sent another message.

[I found a video of the Fu University opening ceremony back then. President Ming went on stage to speak as the representative for Omega freshmen. Goddess, you can use it for reference!]

Meng Li clicked on the video, and a flash of amazement crossed her features for an instant.

Nine years ago.

White clouds hung high in the sky, and the sunlight was intense. Ming Yufu’s dark hair was tied up with a white jade hairpin. She wore a white T-shirt tucked into her slender waist, paired with high-waisted wide-leg jeans. Her figure was graceful, and her stride was composed as she walked toward the podium. Her face was exquisite, with dark brows and cool eyes, exuding the temperament and tension between a girl and a woman.

“…All that is past is but a prologue…”

“…The future is bright, something worth longing for and striving for. As Omegas, we are constrained by social stereotypes and rules, but on campus, we have infinite possibilities to break the mold, realize our dreams, and fulfill the passions we truly love…”

Every sentence was powerful, filled with high spirits.

The speech ended at some point, but there was still a short bit of the progress bar left. When thunderous applause and cheers erupted from the audience, Meng Li’s dazed gaze flickered as if startled, and she came back to her senses.

She took a sip of water, but it felt heavy in her stomach, pressing a sense of bitterness against her chest. Meng Li went to a search engine and typed “Ming Yufu Car Accident,” but only a few irrelevant pieces of news popped up.

The news from the year of the woman’s accident had been suppressed. No one knew what she had gone through. The name “Ming Yufu” only reappeared in the public eye when she officially became the heir of the Ming Corporation. With her decisive methods, she expanded the business empire at an incredible speed, turning the Ming Corporation into an untouchable giant among the top wealthy families.

Meng Li’s nails dug into her palm, her mood suddenly turning heavy, leaving a dull ache in her heart. In the original book, Ming Yufu was the foil to the protagonists’ sweet ​read the original at bailiantales.com​love; she had no happy romance and had suffered through disaster.

Meng Li hadn’t cared when she was reading the book, but after transmigrating and becoming entangled in the woman’s fate, seeing the high-spirited version of her from the past made her realize that the sentences glossed over in the book represented a person’s actual experience and life.

She was proud of her talent for painting, but now she felt a greedy wish: if only she were Ma Liang with his magic brush.

What is drawn becomes real.

She would strike out the sentences in the original book about Ming Yufu’s car accident, ensuring it never happened.

All the way back, Meng Li was imagining how Ming Yufu had pitifully yet resiliently survived that time following the accident.

During dinner, filled with pity, she served the woman an extra honey-glazed chicken leg. Hesitating, she asked, “President Ming, have you ever thought about what you would do if the world kissed you with pain?”

Ming Yufu turned her head to look at her. “What’s wrong?”

“Is someone bullying you?”

She quickly ran through the events Meng Li had experienced recently. The biggest setbacks the girl had faced were being splashed with water while bathing Nuomi and spending 30 minutes on a single math problem. The latter was slightly more serious than the former.

Meng Li shook her head like a broken fan, fabricating a lie. “Just asking. I ran into a similar prompt for an elective course assignment.”

Ming Yufu used the tip of her chopsticks to slowly pick the meat off the honey-glazed chicken leg. Picking up a piece, she said, “I wouldn’t care.” No matter what happened, she would only move forward toward her goal.

“Which angle do you want to write from?” Ming Yufu asked; she might be able to offer a suggestion. “What about your approach?”

Meng Li was an optimist, always thinking of things in a positive light. Just like if it rained, she’d use an umbrella; if she got lost, she’d ask for directions; if it was a tornado and she couldn’t go out, she’d stay home and find things to do there. Her main theme was adapting to circumstances.

However, she was a giant in words.

Her forehead was full, and a third of her long hair was held by a star-shaped clip. Wearing plum-colored pajamas with a low round neckline that revealed her straight collarbones, she clenched her fist.

“If the world kisses me with pain, I’ll punch it back twice, bang bang.”

Ming Yufu looked at her hand.

Meng Li: “?”

Ming Yufu’s gaze swept over her slender wrist, scrutinizing the fingers that were as bony as bamboo. “Does it hurt?”