Before Gu Bichen could respond, without saying another word, she grabbed him and dashed out.
At the grand theater, people were orderly lining up to enter.
Leng Xingshuang had VIP tickets, so naturally, she entered through the VIP passage.
The theater staff guided the two to the VIP section.
Suddenly, Leng Xingshuang’s steps paused, and she bit the tip of her silver tooth in frustration.
"Just my luck, of all people, I had to run into her..."
Gu Bichen narrowed his eyes and looked over, his brows furrowing slightly.
In the VIP section, a young girl in a purple dress was seated gracefully. Her slender swan-like neck made her appear elegant and noble. Her jet-black hair cascaded over her shoulders, exuding an air of gentle refinent and dignified charm.
Seated to the girl’s right was a young man with a reserved and distinguished deanor; they appeared to have co together.
Noticing their gaze, the girl looked up.
In that mont, the dim theater seed to brighten instantly due to her presence.
She was like a rare pearl radiating soft brilliance, bright and luminous in the darkness—no one could ignore that dazzling light.
The girl gave them a slight nod and smiled, her lips curving into a smile so flawless it seed almost practiced.
Anyone who saw her would think, "What a perfectly poised and elegant young lady."
But Leng Xingshuang suddenly shuddered, secretly tugged on Gu Bichen’s sleeve, and whispered, "Brother Bichen, is it too late to run now?"
Gu Bichen chuckled softly, then took a step forward, sitting down beside the girl.
"It’s been a while."
The girl smiled. "It’s been a while."
The tone was casual, as though between old friends.
The young man beside her glanced at Gu Bichen and nodded slightly in acknowledgnt—it seed the group was acquainted.
Leng Xingshuang thought hard for a mont and finally recalled the young man’s identity.
Wen Yu, the eldest grandson of the Wen family.
Even though she was the Leng family’s granddaughter, rchants historically ranked lowest among scholars, farrs, artisans, and rchants. Even now, that status hadn’t risen much.
Although all were mbers of the four major families, everyone knew well that compared to the Yu and Wen families, her own social status fell short.
Leng Xingshuang glared at Yu Ruohuan and reluctantly walked forward, sitting down next to Gu Bichen.
If she had known she’d run into Yu Ruohuan here, she’d never have brought Brother Bichen—even if her life depended on it.
"I only found out after school started that you’d transferred to Qingzhou. How’s your new school?"
The girl asked casually, her tone as if she were catching up with an old classmate.
Gu Bichen gazed at the red curtains on the stage and replied lightly, "It’s fine. I’ve made quite a few interesting friends."
The girl’s lips curved slightly. "Oh no, the way you describe it is almost tempting ."
Leng Xingshuang, who had been struggling to interject, finally seized her chance: "Miss Yu, I’m afraid even if you wanted to attend, you wouldn’t be able to. Lanya High School has strict standards; they only admit top scholars."
She deliberately emphasized the words "top scholars."
Brother Bichen was a top scholar—could Yu Ruohuan et those criteria?
Yu Ruohuan maintained an approachable deanor and replied gently, "Is that so? It seems I need to work a bit harder."
When the opera began, the hall fell silent.
Leng Xingshuang didn’t enjoy such lofty art—her mind couldn’t grasp the actors’ lines. Before long, she began yawning.
The other three, however, were enraptured by the performance.
During intermission, Leng Xingshuang couldn’t resist running out.
Hiding in the restroom, she took out her phone to vent to her best friend.
[Guess who I ran into at the theater? Yu Ruohuan—save !]
[Good luck with that!]
Suddenly, an excited voice ca from outside: "Miss Yu?"
Leng Xingshuang froze, clutching her phone as she strained to eavesdrop.
Yu Ruohuan’s signature gentle voice responded, "May I ask who you are?"
"Does Miss Yu not rember ? A year ago, at the Kun Garden art exhibition, we had a brief encounter. Your unique insights into art left a lasting impression on . I never expected to et you here again after a year."
Leng Xingshuang curled her lips in disdain—this person’s flattery was downright cringeworthy.
Yu Ruohuan nodded with a polite smile but showed no intention of continuing the conversation, stepping forward to leave.
"Miss Yu, I’m also a fan of opera. Could we exchange WeChat contacts? I think we’d have a lot to talk about."
"When Faust’s students visit him, phisto impersonates Faust and advises the students to study logic. He utters a famous quote. Tell , what is it?"
"If you can answer, we’ll be friends."
The girl’s exquisite face held a gentle, kind smile, but her jet-black eyes were like deep, bottomless pools of icy water, instinctively invoking fear.
The younger woman froze, clutching at the hem of her garnt tightly.
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