“No, it was that Mr. Kuang who sent it.”

“That’s the same as Lu Shicheng sending it — this Kuang Zhilin is Lu Shicheng’s right-hand man, his standing in the Lu family is nothing to scoff at.”

Just then, Huang Yuanshan’s assistant coughed outside — presumably Mr. Kuang had arrived.

Wen Tingli hurriedly raised her voice: “Miss Huang, I told you before — signing the contract early is fine, but the film absolutely must wait until after I’ve finished my middle school graduation ceremony. If I get into university by then, Director Huang will need to have another round of discussion with my university as well — in any case, it can’t interfere with my studies. Also, I’m just a student, this is the first contract I’ve ever signed in my life, I need to take it to a lawyer friend of mine first — if the lawyer looks it over and finds no issues, then I’ll sign it with you.”

Huang Yuanshan also spoke loudly: “Oh, so Miss Wen has a lawyer friend? Very good, I’m always fair and above-board in this regard — go ahead and have your lawyer look it over. You’re a newcomer, so your pay can’t compare to our company’s Duan Miaoqing and others, but it’s certainly not low either — nine hundred silver dollars for one film, paid in full once shooting wraps. Are you satisfied with this figure?”

Wen Tingli’s throat went dry, her heart racing — with this money, she wouldn’t have to worry about university tuition down the line. Besides, this was the first money she’d earn through her own ability — just thinking about it made her want to lift her chin high.

But she did her best to appear composed on the surface, only giving a flat “Mm.” Huang Yuanshan, pretending not to notice Wen Tingli was putting on an act, laughed and pressed a hand to her forehead: “Well then, I’ll take my leave first. Here’s the book bag you left behind last night — we brought it for you. Rest well.”

After Huang Yuanshan left, Mr. Kuang didn’t come in — likely having heard them talking inside, he’d deliberately stayed away. Wen Tingli immediately closed the door and pulled a business card out of her book bag.

The card read: Shanghai Dawn Law Office, Bao Yaoming.

Ever since Dean Deng had given her this card, she’d treasured it, keeping it on her at all times.

Acting in a film was a major matter for her, and given the particularly special nature of the lead character in this film, it certainly couldn’t hurt to have a prominent lawyer like Bao Yaoming look over the contract beforehand.

This luxurious hospital room had its own private telephone. Wen Tingli was about to dial the number on the card, but thought better of it and set it down — better to first give Dean Deng a heads-up, or it might seem rather presumptuous, especially since this Lawyer Bao had never met her before.

After the meal, Mr. Kuang came by once more, this time bringing Wen Tingli several expensive Western-style dresses.

“This is compensation from young Master Lu. Last night’s incident not only got Miss Wen injured, but also burned through your sleeve — young Master Cheng feels quite guilty about it, and had someone go to Wing On Company this morning specifically to purchase a few dresses.”

Wen Tingli noticed the French fashion label on the collar and was startled — her own qipao was made of the most ordinary fabric, and a hundred of them together wouldn’t equal the cost of this one dress before her.

“This won’t do, Mr. Kuang, please take it back—”

But Mr. Kuang, without further argument, had the caretaker hang the dresses in the closet: “These were all bought according to Miss Wen’s measurements. Please try them on later, and if there’s anything unsatisfactory, I’ll have someone exchange them right away.” With that, he took his leave, smiling.

Wen Tingli stared at the closet in a daze. Even as compensation, there was no reason to give this many. She couldn’t accept them — she’d have to find some way to return them eventually.

With nothing to do in the afternoon, she took out her textbooks from her book bag and spent several hours diligently reviewing her studies. In the evening, she wanted to go wash her hair, but the caretaker had her lie at the foot of the bed instead, saying she didn’t want Wen Tingli to tire herself, and brought a basin of warm water to carefully wash her hair for her at the foot of the bed. Whatever brand of shampoo it was, its fragrance drifted all the way out into the corridor.

Wen Tingli lay stiffly on the bed, not daring to move. The Lu family’s care for others was excessive to a fault — even in the hospital, she felt treated like an empress. If this kept up, by the time she was discharged, she worried she might forget how to walk on her own.

The next morning, while Dr. Liao from surgery was making his rounds, Wen Tingli firmly requested to be discharged, using school as an excuse. Dr. Liao, seeing the wound was healing well, agreed, prescribing her a few doses of oral medication to take home.

While Wen Tingli was packing up, Mr. Kuang came to visit along with Dr. Liao.

“That’s fine, Miss Wen is at just the right age to be active — staying cooped up in the hospital isn’t good for wound recovery anyway. I only just learned yesterday that Miss Wen studies at Wushi — going forward, if there’s anything at school Miss Wen needs help with, feel free to let me know.”

Wen Tingli’s heart stirred at this. The words sounded both sincere and warm — if she pressed her advantage now and spoke up, Mr. Kuang might really have the school take good care of her, especially since Wushi Girls’ Middle School was, after all, a property under the Lu family’s name.

However, though Kuang Zhilin spoke this way, he still didn’t hand over his own business card, suggesting he still harbored some wariness toward her.

Wen Tingli lowered her eyes and smiled — understandable, really. That night, her appearance had been far too coincidental, so it made sense Kuang Zhilin would harbor suspicions about her. Now that her wound had been treated and her clothes compensated, and with a caretaker specially assigned to look after her these past few days, as far as she and Lu Shicheng were concerned, the debt between them was now even.

So she didn’t follow up on Kuang Zhilin’s offer, instead pulling out the banknote and handing it to him: “This was left behind by young Master Lu that night. Please could you return it to him, Mr. Kuang.”

Mr. Kuang glanced discreetly at the handwriting on the banknote, then at the amount, before raising his eyes to carefully re-examine Wen Tingli, a hint of a smile appearing as he tucked the banknote into his pocket: “Of course, I’ll pass this along to Miss Wen — I mean, I’ll make sure young Master Lu receives it. Miss Wen is injured — shall I have them take you home? Is it straight to Cixin Hospital?”

“No need.” Wen Tingli quickly waved her hand. “I’ll just take a car home myself.”

But the Lu family car was already waiting at the steps, and the moment she stepped out, the driver hurried to open the door. Wen Tingli had no choice but to give a slight bow in thanks. Before getting in, she glanced around out of habit — strangely, ever since that night she’d left Golden Theater, she hadn’t seen any of Mrs. Qiao’s people around at all, whether they’d been cleared away by the Lu family, or whether Mrs. Qiao had simply been too busy arranging her son’s wedding to keep tabs on her.

Before the car pulled away, Mr. Kuang came hurrying out carrying a bag: “Miss Wen, you left something behind.”

Wen Tingli smiled awkwardly: “Please, just return these dresses, Mr. Kuang — my qipao was quite old and plain in style, there’s really no need to compensate me with new ones.”

“I see — Miss Wen isn’t satisfied with the style of these dresses? I’ll have someone go buy a different batch right away, and we’ll just throw these out.”

Wen Tingli was alarmed: “Don’t throw them out! Don’t throw them out! Fine, there’s nothing to be done, I’ll just accept them.”

Mr. Kuang, smiling, handed the paper bag in.

At the hospital, the moment Wen Desheng saw his daughter, he asked anxiously: “Where were you last night?”

Wen Tingli showed her father the “stage play competition” trophy, then pointed to the wound on her arm, repeating to her father the same story she’d told Zhou Sao earlier at the hospital.

Seeing the gleaming gold trophy, Wen Desheng was visibly moved, reaching out with his thin, bony hand to carefully touch it.

“You won an award? First place in the whole city?”

Wen Tingli nodded proudly.

“Wonderful…” Wen Desheng’s voice began to tremble. “Good girl, you truly have a bright future ahead — far more promising than your father ever was!”

Wen Tingli’s eyes grew warm, and she turned her face away, then a moment later turned back as if nothing had happened: “This is nothing — there’s an even brighter future ahead. Don’t let your shoulder stick out like that, you’ll catch a cold.”

In the afternoon, Wen Tingli went to school ahead of schedule, and happened to run into Yan Zhenzhen hurrying out of the classroom.

“You’re discharged? I was just about to call your hospital room. Come quick to the principal’s office — Director Zheng and Principal Michelle are about to get into an argument over you, Zhao Qingluo’s there too.”

The two of them ran to the small white building, and just as they stepped onto the corridor, they heard Director Zheng’s impassioned voice.

“Wen Tingli won the championship representing Wushi — this is a supreme honor. Why won’t the school award her the Yuying Scholarship? These past weeks, Wen Tingli and Zhao Qingluo and the others have been rehearsing in the auditorium every day until half past nine, and you must surely have heard of it. If the school refuses to reward her this time, going forward, no student will actively volunteer to compete for Wushi’s honor again! If you don’t give me a reasonable explanation today, I’m staying planted in your office.”

Looking inside, they saw Director Zheng and Zhao Qingluo standing before Michelle’s desk, the atmosphere tense as drawn swords.

Michelle said coolly: “Wen Tingli winning the championship is indeed worthy of praise, but the school’s refusal to award her a scholarship has another reason entirely. I’ve just received news that Wen Tingli signed a contract with a film company without the school’s permission — this is a serious violation of Wushi’s school rules! If, upon investigation, this proves true, not only will the school be unable to award her the Yuying Scholarship, it will consider expelling Wen Tingli.”

Wen Tingli was shocked — how could Michelle have gotten this news so quickly?

Then it occurred to her — Mr. and Mrs. Qiao had had people following her for so long, they’d surely already known about Huang Yuanshan approaching her to act in a film. Ha — they were determined to drive her out of Shanghai, and worried that Wushi might, because of this award, permit her to sit the joint university entrance exam, so they’d simply had Michelle use this excuse to come after her.

Fortunately, she’d had the foresight not to sign the contract with Huang Yuanshan immediately.

Director Zheng and Zhao Qingluo exchanged glances: “Acting in a film? How did we not know about this?”

Michelle’s expression was full of meaning: “There’s plenty you don’t know about Wen Tingli—”

“Principal Michelle!” Wen Tingli walked in, cutting her off. “The night before last, after I won the competition, Director Huang from Golden Film Company did indeed express interest in having me act in a film, but I told her clearly that we could only discuss it after my middle school graduation, and I also required her to obtain permission from my school before filming officially began. I don’t know where you got this rumor that I privately agreed to this without permission.”

Yan Zhenzhen seized the moment to add: “Exactly! The night of the competition, Wen Tingli wouldn’t even easily agree to interviews from reporters — how would she possibly sign some contract without the school’s permission?”

Director Zheng gestured to reassure the students, then turned and calmly said to Michelle: “In my impression, you’ve always been open-minded and gentle — why are you being so unreasonable about this matter concerning Wen Tingli? Having gotten to know her, we trust her character completely. Is there perhaps some misunderstanding on your part about her?”

“Misunderstanding? It seems you all don’t know her well enough.” Michelle tossed out a stack of photographs. “See for yourselves — these were reported directly to me.”

Several of them gathered around in surprise. The photos showed a close-up of a script, its title unmistakably reading Southern Beauty, and another was a letter of intent for a contract, with the female lead role listed clearly as “Wen Tingli” — photographed with such clarity, it must have been taken secretly while Golden Film’s people weren’t paying attention.

“What does this prove?”

However, upon seeing the last photograph, the group fell collectively silent, because the photo showed Huang Yuanshan and Wen Tingli, sitting across from each other at a coffee table, talking, with an oversized script laid out on the table between them. Golden Film’s scripts were always custom-made and distinctive — one glance at the two side by side confirmed it was the same script.

“Anything more to say?” Michelle said mockingly. “This isn’t the first or second time you’ve been in contact with Director Huang. A producer from Golden Film personally confirmed that you’ve already signed a contract, with pay set at nine hundred silver dollars, filming scheduled to begin in September, and I hear the production crew has already begun tailoring costumes specifically for you.”

Wen Tingli had nothing to say in her defense.

“I know Miss Wen has a sharp tongue, but these photographs don’t lie. With the evidence now conclusive, as vice principal in charge of discipline, I must convene a board meeting immediately regarding your issue. If you all keep making a fuss here, I’ll have the janitor throw you all out.”

They were thus driven out, Director Zheng included.

Director Zheng grabbed hold of Wen Tingli.

“Tell me honestly — did you really agree to act in this film?”

Wen Tingli hung her head and said nothing.

“Why on earth?” Zhao Qingluo pushed at Wen Tingli’s shoulder anxiously. “Don’t you know this violates school rules?”

“I didn’t sign anything.” Wen Tingli raised her head. “And I made it clear to Director Huang that filming wouldn’t start until after graduation. Michelle insisted on making a huge issue out of this — there’s nothing I could do about it.”

“This kind of thing is genuinely hard to define clearly in the first place,” Director Zheng said, exasperated. “You’re a student — how could you privately go make contact with people from a film company? Even if you’re not afraid of being expelled, the film industry is full of all sorts — are those people you can just casually associate with? Aren’t you determined to get into university? I see you burying your nose in books every free moment — so why on earth are you off making films now?! Are you trying to worry me to death?”

“It’s because of things at home, isn’t it?” Yan Zhenzhen, who hadn’t said a word until now, suddenly spoke up.

Zhao Qingluo and Director Zheng turned to look at her in surprise.

“Just a guess,” Yan Zhenzhen shrugged. “Wen Tingli never eats breakfast, but at lunch in the cafeteria she eats more than anyone else. After the meal she always packs up her snacks — I’m guessing she takes them home for someone. She never invites us over to her house either. Usually when I treat her to something, she never returns the favor. At first I thought she was just stingy, but later I realized she’s genuinely poor.”

Wen Tingli sat down at the edge of the flowerbed, picking up a stick to scratch at the dirt beneath her feet: “Yan Zhenzhen, have you been holding a grudge this whole time about me never treating you back?”

“Is what she’s saying true?” Director Zheng pressed her shoulder.

“My father’s in the hospital, we have no income right now, I want to save up money for university. Golden Film’s pay is very good, and this film’s script was also written by the famous Peiping writer Yue Zhaoshui — her films have always carried profound social meaning. I thought it over carefully before agreeing to Director Huang’s offer.”

Director Zheng and Zhao Qingluo patted Wen Tingli’s head, aching with sympathy. After a moment of despondence, Director Zheng rallied herself: “Don’t worry, I’ll call Principal Zou right away — she’ll surely understand your difficulties. In any case, I won’t just stand by and let Michelle act unilaterally.”

Director Zheng went off, and still hadn’t returned by the time school let out. Knowing there was little hope, Wen Tingli resolved to make other plans on her own. She’d already walked out the school gate, but turned back and went inside again, and just then, a cream-colored car pulled up.

“Wen Tingli!”

It was none other than Qiao Baoxin, whom she hadn’t seen in a while.

Qiao Baoxin, wearing a honey-colored Western dress, got out of the car and hurried toward Wen Tingli: “I’ve been looking for you everywhere — huh, what happened to your arm?”

“I took a little fall a few days ago, it’s nothing, just a minor scrape.”

Qiao Baoxin lowered her voice: “Don’t worry, my mother’s people aren’t nearby. I just heard my parents were giving you trouble again, so I came specially to see if I could help.”

Two minutes later, the two of them sat down facing each other at a Western pastry shop on the street.

Qiao Baoxin ordered coffee and small cakes for herself and Wen Tingli, but didn’t eat or drink any of it, only staring pensively at the gleaming silver cups, saying wistfully: “On the wedding day, my brother got so blackout drunk that if it weren’t for the witnesses and groomsmen there keeping him steady the whole time, he wouldn’t even have been able to sign his name on the marriage certificate.”

Wen Tingli remained unmoved.

Qiao Baoxin sighed: “Tingli, I’m not here to complain to you on my brother’s behalf. My brother’s suffering isn’t only for your sake — anyone with free will couldn’t bear such a feudal family. My brother had been kept under house arrest in the study by my father before this. I’m not sure what methods my parents finally used to make him give up on you, but they themselves surely know this marriage isn’t solid at all — with no other options left, they’ve simply turned their anger on you.”

Wen Tingli laughed coldly: “So if I’m driven out of Shanghai, your brother and sister-in-law will grow old together happily? In the end, this is nothing but bullying through power and influence!”

Qiao Baoxin lowered her head in shame. Wen Tingli suddenly said: “Baoxin, do you know our school’s Principal Michelle? Is your mother close with her?”

Qiao Baoxin nodded: “She comes to our house often. Though she’s a British national, she grew up in Hong Kong — she and my mother attended the same mission school in Hong Kong back then, only my mother graduated and returned to Shanghai to get married right away, while Michelle continued on through university. I’ve heard Michelle’s family wasn’t well-off, and my mother funded her university expenses back then — with a friendship that deep, it’s no wonder Michelle’s willing to indulge my mother’s schemes. By the way, what does your school say now? Are they just going to let Michelle target you?”

Wen Tingli bit her lip: “She’s been at the school for many years, and everyone at Wushi thinks highly of her. Besides, even if the board knows Michelle is deliberately targeting me, they’re not going to go against the vice principal’s decision for the sake of a single student — and besides, I did technically break the rules.”

Qiao Baoxin clenched her fists: “In the end, the root of the problem lies with my parents. I truly hate them right now! Before coming here I had a huge fight with my mother, but unfortunately my threats meant nothing to her. I also went to beg my grandfather, but I couldn’t even get an audience with him. As for my brother and Sister-in-law Liyun… the moment the wedding ended, both sets of parents forced them off on their honeymoon — by now they’re probably already on a ship to Australia.”

At this, Qiao Baoxin rubbed her face in frustration, then her eyes suddenly lit up: “Oh, right. I just saw my young granduncle at home earlier — when he heard about this, he thoroughly mocked my father and mother right to their faces. I asked him if there was anything to be done, and he said there was a way, but you’d have to explain the whole situation to him yourself in person. After saying that, he left. Tingli, why don’t we go ask my young granduncle for help? He’s sure to have a way to deal with my parents.”

Wen Tingli opened her mouth to speak. She believed that if she personally asked Meng Qiguang for help, he would absolutely handle this matter for her cleanly and thoroughly — and not just this once, but going forward, neither the Qiao family nor Michelle would ever trouble her again.

But doing so would mean she’d once again be led by an invisible thread to the edge of a cliff — ahead lay a deceptively beautiful garden, and the moment her willpower weakened even slightly, she might just let herself fall.

In truth, ever since the night Qiu Lingyun had given her trouble, she’d already seen that Meng Qiguang was a master manipulator of people’s hearts — such men tended to be deeply calculating, while also possessing great charm. She had no confidence in handling such a dangerous man, and had thus deliberately been avoiding dealing with Meng Qiguang.

She’d already tactfully turned down Meng Qiguang once before, so this time, he simply wasn’t taking the initiative himself, instead waiting for her to come to him… he truly was the shrewdest of the shrewd — no, she couldn’t go to him—

Lost in thought, she looked up and met Qiao Baoxin’s concerned gaze — the sincerity and anxiety in Baoxin’s eyes were unmistakably genuine, and Wen Tingli’s heart warmed: “No need to go to him, I’ve already thought of another way.”

“Really?”

Wen Tingli hummed in affirmation. Compared to Meng Qiguang’s cunning, Baoxin’s guile was far too shallow, too green — no wonder she’d unknowingly become her granduncle’s mouthpiece.

She understood everything in her heart, but showed none of it on her face, only reaching out to cover Qiao Baoxin’s hand with her own, saying earnestly: “Baoxin, thank you, thank you for making a special trip for my sake.”

Qiao Baoxin pulled a hundred silver dollars from her small handbag and pressed it into Wen Tingli’s hands: “You must be in a difficult spot right now — take this to get by for now, and once I have more freedom, I’ll find a way to send you more.”

“No need, quick, take it back, I have money — my family’s Western clothing shop sold off its remaining stock for a good price, enough to get us through a year or two.”

But Qiao Baoxin insisted on stuffing the money into Wen Tingli’s book bag: “If you won’t take it, I won’t leave!”

Wen Tingli had no choice: “When I do need money, I’ll be sure to come to you for help, alright?”

The two of them left the café together, and Qiao Baoxin said worriedly: “I don’t know if your plan will work out. Since Michelle wants to expel you, she certainly won’t wait for Principal Zou to come back before acting — I’d guess it’ll be within a day or two. Let me go try to persuade my mother again — if your plan doesn’t work, be sure to let me know right away. Just call Chen Aisha directly, she has a way of reaching me.”

Wen Tingli stood by the roadside, watching Qiao Baoxin’s car drive away, then looked up to find it was nearly dark.

She lowered her head to look at her injured arm, then raised it again to look at the words “Lu Family Donation” carved in large letters beside the school gate across the street, and hardened her resolve to make a decision.

Ten minutes later, she emerged once more from the washroom in the school auditorium — only this time, though her arm had been perfectly fine just moments before, the bandage was now completely soaked through. She endured the pain and hailed a rickshaw, heading straight back to Cixin Hospital.

As expected, she began running a fever by midnight, and by six o’clock, her arm hurt so much she couldn’t even lift it.

Wen Desheng’s caretaker, having worked in the hospital for several years by now, was quite experienced, and the moment she saw it, cried out in alarm: “Miss Wen, your wound has gotten infected! Quick, get a doctor to look at it, this absolutely cannot wait.”

But Wen Tingli went straight out and headed to Huiqun Hospital instead.

After getting out of the car, she went directly to the surgical ward. The doctors and nurses there, who had a good impression of this cheerful, chatty young girl, laughed: “Isn’t this Miss Wen? Why are you back again?”

Wen Tingli put on a pained expression: “I think I have a fever.”

The medical staff hurried to fetch Dr. Liao from before, the head of surgery.

Dr. Liao lifted the bandage to look, and saw the wound already showing signs of redness, swelling, and oozing. He frowned deeply: “How did this get infected in just one day?! Have you been taking your medication on schedule?”

Wen Tingli said nothing, only sitting there quietly wiping away tears.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

Wen Tingli sobbed: “It’s such a shame, after Mr. Kuang took such good care of me these past few days — but honestly, right now I almost wish that bullet had gone straight through my chest, then I wouldn’t have so many troubles. Yesterday I’d just been discharged, and already a vice principal at school is falsely accusing me of breaking the rules, insisting on expelling me. I’m determined to get into university — if I can’t continue my studies, I don’t even want to take these antibiotics anymore, just let the wound rot.”

Dr. Liao looked utterly astonished: “Isn’t Miss Wen studying at Wushi? Which principal wants to expel you?”

Wen Tingli only shook her head, despondent, and Dr. Liao seemed to want to say something but held back.

After changing the dressing, the nurse came to hook up Wen Tingli’s IV.

While waiting for the injection, Wen Tingli used the excuse of needing the restroom to sneak a walk past the head of surgery’s office. The office door was left ajar, and faint voices could be heard talking inside.

She quietly slipped back to the injection room, and after the final shot at noon, Dr. Liao still hadn’t appeared, but even so, Wen Tingli’s heart already held a fifty percent certainty.

Back at school, she ran straight into Zhao Qingluo and a group of Drama Club classmates just coming out of the cafeteria.

“Feeling better?” Zhao Qingluo came toward Wen Tingli. “Was it all the worry from yesterday that made your fever come back?”

Wen Tingli only asked: “Has Michelle reached a decision?”

The classmates exchanged glances, and Zhao Qingluo shook her head dejectedly: “I hear they’re already drafting your expulsion paperwork.”

Then she added: “But don’t worry, Director Zheng just bought train tickets to Peiping — she plans to tell Principal Zou about your situation in person this weekend. Our Principal Zou has always valued talent, she’d never let you get expelled just like that.”

Though she said this, Zhao Qingluo’s tone wasn’t entirely convinced. Just then, Yan Zhenzhen came running over: “Wen Tingli, Teacher Liu and Director Chen from the Academic Affairs Office are looking everywhere for you.”

The moment they reached the hallway, they saw Homeroom Teacher Liu Yuanhua and the fierce Director Chen from before talking by the doorway.

Liu Yuanhua was as amiable as ever, and unexpectedly, Director Chen today also wore a beaming smile.

“We’ve been waiting for you.” Director Chen was unusually enthusiastic. “Congratulations, Classmate Wen Tingli. To recognize your performance in the Shanghai Youth Stage Play Competition, the school has decided to award you the Yuying Scholarship. The school is already drafting the announcement — I’m here on behalf of the Academic Affairs Office to let you know first. Principal Michelle will formally honor you at the school assembly on Monday.”

Everyone present, aside from Wen Tingli, froze in surprise.

Liu Yuanhua laughed, giving Wen Tingli a little push: “Why aren’t you saying anything — are you too happy for words?”

Wen Tingli’s anxious heart finally settled.

She’d guessed correctly — that Dr. Liao from Huiqun Hospital could reach the Lu family directly. Dr. Liao had kept quiet on the surface, but had secretly informed Mr. Kuang about her worsening condition.

And Mr. Kuang had responded swiftly.

Her arm had been injured because of the Lu family’s affairs, and their meticulous care of her during her hospital stay was, after all, out of consideration for the fact that she’d suffered an undeserved misfortune — but this also revealed one particular trait of how Lu Shicheng conducted himself: he cared about appearances, about propriety.

Now, the moment she’d been discharged, Michelle was trying to drive her out of Wushi Middle School — this was tantamount to telling the medical staff at Huiqun Hospital that the Lu family said one thing but did another behind closed doors. This wasn’t just slapping Mr. Kuang in the face — it was openly slapping Lu Shicheng’s face too.

It didn’t matter that Mr. Kuang hadn’t given her his business card — since she’d already worked out that the head of surgery had an unusual relationship with the Lu family, she had her own roundabout way of getting word of her situation to them.

Thinking of this, Wen Tingli genuinely smiled: “Thank you, Director Chen, thank you, Teacher Liu.”

On Monday, the auditorium held its usual assembly, and amid thunderous applause, Wen Tingli, glowing with honor, accepted the small trophy and certificate of merit presented by Michelle.

This was the first time a Wushi student had won a major award in performance, and the teachers and students below cheered for Wen Tingli without end.

Michelle looked as though she hadn’t slept well the night before, her complexion tinged gray, dark circles so severe not even foundation could hide them. She made an effort to smile broadly at Wen Tingli, but Wen Tingli thought that smile looked worse than crying.

But at least this woman was no longer icy cold — she could even be called quite amiable now.

Wen Tingli sneered inwardly. Society was so merciless — if she’d grown just a little slower, she’d have been the one beaten down.

In just a few days, she’d already learned to exploit human weaknesses to her own advantage.

She couldn’t help but silently mourn, in her heart, that once purely naive Wen Tingli of before.

At the same time, she silently celebrated — celebrated this brand new, increasingly mature and composed Wen Tingli of now.

After the award ceremony, Michelle gently instructed Wen Tingli: “In previous years, Old Master Lu always personally signed the checks himself. These past two years, with Old Master Lu away from Shanghai, this award has been handed over to young Master Lu instead. If there’s no issue on your end, the school will coordinate with young Master Lu to confirm a specific time for you to collect your award.”

“Oh, right.” Michelle adjusted her glasses, reminding Wen Tingli solemnly. “Young Master Lu isn’t one for much talk — do keep that in mind when you go to the Lu residence to collect your check.”

These words clearly carried a hint of favor-currying. Wen Tingli’s mood grew even more buoyant. If she’d guessed correctly, no matter how Mrs. Qiao might try to pressure her going forward, Michelle would never dare give her trouble again.

Coming out of the assembly hall, feelings welling up inside her, she raised her injured left arm. Though she’d suffered an unwarranted injury, being able to use this incident to completely resolve the biggest headache troubling her made it all worthwhile.

Looking again at the “Yuying” trophy and certificate of merit in her hands, joy seeped out of every pore. Turning to the classmates behind her, she declared with great spirit: “These past weeks, I’ve been so grateful for all of your care and support — this weekend, I’d like to treat everyone to a meal. Pick the time and place, and I hope you’ll all do me the honor of joining. Yan Zhenzhen, since you always complain I’m stingy, why don’t you order for everyone this time — and I’ll go to the office to invite Director Zheng and Teacher Liu.”

The classmates immediately started teasing: “Wen Tingli, you can still take that back — if you really let Yan Zhenzhen order, we might still be eating this time next year.”

In the end, the gathering was set for Saturday noon, at Dayalou.

Besides the teachers and classmates from Wushi, Wen Tingli also invited Teacher Huang Yun from Xiude and several good friends from Xiude. Of all those invited, only Qiao Baoxin was held back by her family and unable to come — even so, the students from both schools together filled a full three tables.

The private room buzzed with excitement, and Wen Tingli, moved, raised her glass to the three teachers: “I’m so grateful for all of your care for your student, I—”

What was meant to be a heartfelt toast came out choked with emotion instead.

Huang Yun hurried to say: “Don’t cry, don’t cry, a happy occasion like this calls for joy.”

“Exactly,” Director Zheng and Liu Yuanhua’s voices had also grown a little thick. “This award, you earned through your own ability — this is something to celebrate, quickly dry your tears.”

Wen Tingli wiped away her tears, and raised her glass high to the whole table.

“Let us toast to our teachers’ kindness! To friendship!”

Her classmates said in unison: “To talent! To courage! To freedom! To an unyielding spirit!”

The girls’ voices rang out clear and bright, as if carrying a vivid vitality, piercing through the windows toward the high blue sky beyond. Wen Tingli’s heart surged with emotion, and she drained her glass in one go.

For the next half month, Michelle gave her no more trouble, and the teachers in the Academic Affairs Office treated her kindly as well. Every day, aside from studying hard in class, she spent her time rehearsing small performances in the auditorium.

If not for her father still being in the hospital, Wen Tingli’s recent life could genuinely be described as peaceful and content.

There was only one thing — whether because Lu Shicheng had been too busy lately or for some other reason, the school still hadn’t notified her to go to the Lu residence to collect her check, and Wen Tingli, being someone short on money, couldn’t help but keep it on her mind.