Chapter 76 — Pretty Faces & Ugly Intentions
Bai Xia tilted her head slightly toward Fu Jian, lowering her voice so only he could hear.
"Play along."
Fu Jian nodded once, calm and unbothered, like slipping into a role was second nature. There was no hesitation, no flicker of doubt. Bai Xia's lips curved faintly, approving. She rolled down the car window, her fingers elegant, unhurried, as though every movement was calculated to perfection.
"Shan Shang, what are you doing here?"
The name left her lips and Shang Shang froze as though a sudden gust had knocked her off balance. Her gaze darted between Bai Xia and the man beside her, who exuded an effortless authority even while sitting in the passenger seat. This was the same car she had memorized under the bright lights of the mall days ago—gleaming, immaculate, belonging to a man she had dreamed of calling hers. Back then, she had imagined sitting beside him, stealing glances, imagining a life she could only fantasize about.
But now? Now that same dream car had Bai Xia seated gracefully inside, sunlight glinting off her hair, her uniform sharp, and her aura untouchable. Shang Shang's stomach twisted violently, jealousy crawling up her spine like fire ants, her chest tightening. She forced a pitiful expression, a trembling mix of distress and humility.
"Xia Xia… I was waiting for you," Shang Shang said softly, overplaying her tone. A tremble that wasn't entirely fake ran through her voice. "I've been standing under the sun for so long."
Her eyes flicked to Fu Jian—not just noticing him, but coveting, calculating. To her, men were like chess pieces, to be won, moved, or discarded.
Bai Xia gave a faint smile, just enough to show teeth, but gentle enough to seem unassuming.
"Shang Shang, this isn't my car," she said lightly, tilting her head as if pondering something trivial. "And I've never come to school in it. So… how did you know I was here?"
The question sliced sharp and clean, leaving the air charged.
Shang Shang's face flushed. This Bai Xia, she thought bitterly, is impossible. A living weapon.
"I—I didn't know you were here," Shang Shang stammered. "The car was blocking the school entrance… and stopping others from coming in, so I wanted to help."
Her words were aimed at Bai Xia, but her gaze betrayed her. She was practically begging Fu Jian to notice, to pity her, to offer her that same fleeting attention she had long craved.
Bai Xia tilted her head, pretending to consider this carefully, as if weighing the sincerity of a child's apology.
"Shang Shang, from my understanding, your father is just a factory worker, right? His yearly salary is… what? A few hundred yuan?" Bai Xia covered her mouth dramatically, her tone innocent, almost theatrical. "My headbands cost more than that. So I'm curious… when did he buy a car? Or did he start gambling…?"
Shang Shang's eyes narrowed, venom barely contained, but she quickly masked it with trembling lips and watery eyes. Every ounce of her composure strained, a puppet forced into position. She wanted Fu Jian to pity her—to make her appear helpless.
"Bai Xia, how could you say that…?" she choked, a tear slipping down her cheek—half-fake, half-raw. "I know I'm poor, but you don't have to remind me every time."
Her hands shook slightly as more tears fell, dripping onto her uniform. A tragic little waterfall of desperation.
"No, Xia Xia, I didn't mean to accuse you," Shang Shang continued, voice quivering. "I didn't want to embarrass you in front of your friend. I'm sorry… it's just my fault for not being capable."
She wiped her face frantically, but more tears escaped despite her efforts. Every sob sounded pitiful, a weapon in her arsenal of deceit.
Fu Jian watched through the rearview mirror, expression neutral but unmistakably showing his disgust. Bai Xia mirrored the sentiment perfectly, silent but piercing.
"Shang Shang, you're my friend," Bai Xia said sweetly, voice soft, almost comforting, yet edged with an unmistakable precision. "Of course I'll teach you how to look less poor… even if you are poor."
Then, with a fluid motion, she opened the car door and stepped out.
Sunlight hit her fully, illuminating her like a living portrait. Every hair, every fold of her uniform, even her shadow seemed to radiate an expensive elegance. Shang Shang's face froze, admiration and envy tangled into a grotesque expression of longing and resentment.
Bai Xia glanced back once, just enough to draw Fu Jian's eyes.
"Thank you, Brother Jian, for driving me to school."
Fu Jian smiled, a small, knowing curve of lips that spoke more than words could.
"It's no problem. I'll see you later, Bai Xia."
The car glided away smoothly, leaving Shang Shang frozen, panic spreading. Why had he not reacted to her pathetic performance? Why did he not pity her? Her frustration spiked, hot and sharp, like a thorn twisting in her side.
She turned back to Bai Xia, voice quivering but desperate. "Xia'er, who's that man?"
"None of your business," Bai Xia replied coldly, already striding toward her classroom.
Shang Shang scrambled to follow, mouth opening and closing as if to form another question, a plea, or a manipulation. "Xia'er, didn't you say you'd help me? Why don't you teach me so I won't embarrass you again? I want to look like you."
Bai Xia didn't slow. Her steps were purposeful, her head held high. But she allowed herself a faint smile, barely noticeable—a smile that no one else would understand, a smile that promised consequences.
"Sure," she said softly. "Wait for me after school. I'm going shopping with some friends."
The word shopping lit up Shang Shang's mind like a spark in dry grass. She imagined racks of designer clothes, glittering bags, shoes stacked like treasure. If she stuck close, she could ride the tide of Bai Xia's wealth. In her mind, she mocked her rival mercilessly: It doesn't matter if you give a stupid monkey money. A stupid monkey is still a stupid monkey.
Her mood surged with anticipation as she skipped toward her classroom, already plotting how to latch onto Bai Xia's coattails.
Meanwhile, Bai Xia entered her own class quietly, closing the door behind her. She felt a sense of satisfaction, a tiny thrill that was all hers alone. She settled into her desk, glancing briefly at Shan Shang's fading figure through the window. Feel happy now, she thought quietly. Later, you'll cry.