Shen You’an handed her an earphone.
Gao Yuyue assud it was another dull English broadcast, until she heard a crisp and bright teenage voice. She exclaid incredulously, "Isn’t this that teenage idol Rong... Rong what?"
The na was on the tip of her tongue, but Gao Yuyue suddenly couldn’t recall it.
A soft, composed voice calmly answered, "Rong Xianning."
"Yes, yes, that’s right, Rong Xianning! So you like listening to his songs?"
Gao Yuyue acted like she had stumbled upon so shocking discovery. She really found it fascinating—Shen You’an, this person, hid herself so well. You couldn’t tell what she liked, couldn’t tell what she disliked. Besides studying, she seed indifferent to everything else.
This was the first ti she discovered that Shen You’an listened to sothing other than English broadcasts, and it turned out to be a teenage singer about their own age.
The passengers in front and behind subtly perked up their ears.
And quietly noted down the na Rong Xianning in their hearts.
"Mm, I like his voice."
Shen You’an didn’t hide her feelings at all. She said it plainly: I like his voice.
Gao Yuyue chuckled, "Well, this Rong Xianning sure is lucky."
Shen You’an tilted her head, resting it against the seatback, her eyes staring out the window.
As the bus started to move, the scenery outside retreated steadily.
In the earphones, the teenager’s clear and resonant voice pressed gently against her eardrums, so close it felt like he were singing right into her ear.
Her senses and emotions were tethered to the lody of his voice, and she slowly lost herself in it.
This voice—why did it stir a strange, familiar feeling deep within her?
It was so familiar that every ti she listened to it, sothing akin to an inexplicable fire burned within her chest, a tantalizing itch spreading through her heart.
It wasn’t because he had beco a legendary superstar recognized by everyone later on.
Why, then?
Unconsciously, her mind drifted, sinking into the sea of dreams.
Gao Yuyue noticed Shen You’an seed to have fallen asleep. She removed the earphones and slipped off her own down jacket to drape it over Shen You’an.
Only then did she dare to examine Shen You’an closely. The glasses on her nose had slid down, revealing relaxed eyelids. Her thick, long lashes curled into graceful arcs, making her serene sleeping face look even more tender.
Her complexion was impossibly fair, like smooth white jade without a single blemish.
Gone was the detached indifference she carried when awake—while asleep, she resembled an exquisite gem, radiating a gentle, peaceful glow.
Gao Yuyue reached out to remove the obstructive glasses but hesitated and withdrew her hand.
~
"Shen You’an, do you realize you’re already embroiled in scandal, yet you still dare to show up here? Who gave you the nerve?"
A female celebrity, her face adorned with garish makeup and body draped in high-fashion luxury, stood smugly before Shen You’an. Her heavily lined eyes were filled with contempt and disdain, as well as traces of well-hidden envy.
How was it that, despite her downfall, this woman still remained so stunning?
Even when wearing an outdated and ill-fitting gown, she continued to glow radiantly, an unparalleled beauty that captivated all.
Since her debut, people had constantly compared her to this woman standing before her. They’d said every harsh thing imaginable—things like how she was only fit to play the role of Shen You’an’s maid, how she could never asure up to even Shen You’an’s little finger.
She had heard these biting remarks far too many tis.
From that mont on, she had silently vowed: one day, she would step on Shen You’an and make her serve as her maid.
She clawed her way to the top, skillfully navigating the entertainnt world through charm and cunning. At last, she found her chance and soared to fa.
And now, the pure, innocent sweetheart who had once been crowned the entertainnt industry’s greatest beauty was mired in disgrace—reduced to a pariah.
How could she pass up the chance to humiliate her thoroughly? How could she let Shen You’an off without exacting revenge for her own past suffering?
The twenty-five-year-old woman still looked as fresh and radiant as a flower in full bloom, her body exuding a soft allure.
Perhaps hardened by countless judgntal stares, Shen You’an remained composed, quietly unwilling to engage. She turned and walked away.
"Shen You’an, stop right there!"
The spurned celebrity felt rage surge straight to her head. She lunged forward in a flash, extending her hand to grab the delicate arm before her. But as her gaze flicked to the exposed back of Shen You’an’s poorly fitted gown, a flash of malice crossed her eyes.
"Riiip!" The sound rang out sharply. All she felt was a sudden chill across her back—as though sothing had left her.
A wave of panic rose instinctively in Shen You’an, and she bent down, arms wrapping tightly around herself.
The woman’s insincere voice sounded behind her, dripping with mockery: "You’an, I didn’t an to. I just wanted to let you know your zipper in the back was loose. Who would’ve thought that your dress would be so poorly made? I barely touched it, and it ripped... Sigh. You used to be such a star, even if you’re less influential now. How could you wear such a cheap dress to a fashion event? What will the sponsors think? You’an, you truly don’t know how to behave..."
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