Wen Ying, passing by the four boys, overheard Wang Shuang’s straight-guy claim that dating was less fun than gaming and rolled her eyes.
“Do his ex-girlfriends know he thinks this way?” she asked.
Qin Jiao racked her brain. “No idea. I never met any of Wang Shuang’s girlfriends.”
Wang Shuang, a notorious playboy, cycled through girlfriends often. Li Mengjiao had met several, but Qin Jiao only knew of them by hearsay, never interacting directly.
Wen Ying smirked, saying nothing.
Wang Shuang’s teenage mindset was both awkward and amusing.
About to speak again, Wen Ying glanced up and spotted Professor Fang, with someone skulking nearby. The crowd at the rehearsal site was thick, and the figure slipped into it, out of sight.
Had she seen wrong?
She asked Xie Qian if he’d noticed.
“You saw Pan Li?” he asked.
“Yeah, standing with Professor Fang one second, gone the next.”
Xie Qian inquired around and soon confirmed, “Professor Fang came to Hunan with an assistant—Pan Li.”
So it was her.
Wen Ying had seen Pan Li, and Pan Li had definitely seen her.
That Pan Li had wormed her way into being Professor Fang’s assistant left Wen Ying at a loss for words. She hoped the “farmer and snake” tale wouldn’t play out with Fang.
“Pan Li might not have known we’re Li Mengjiao’s friends before today. Now that she does, could she sabotage her? We got her expelled from the music academy—she must hate us,” Wen Ying said.
An eye for an eye was Wen Ying’s creed, but she didn’t expect Pan Li, with her questionable character, to share such principles.
Mentioning the music academy softened Xie Qian’s expression.
Even after all this time, that memory remained vivid.
“Then we don’t give her a chance to act. With so many of us here, can’t we keep an eye on her?” he said.
Wen Ying rallied Qin Jiao, Wang Shuang, and the others for a quick meeting, its sole purpose: protect Li Mengjiao and block any move Pan Li might make.
As for why Pan Li held a grudge against Wen Ying and Xie Qian, Qin Jiao’s explanation preserved Deng Shangwei’s dignity.
In her version, Deng Shangwei had played along with Qin Xianming’s plan.
Wang Shuang recalled Li Mengjiao joking that Pan Li was his type and felt his stomach churn. *Is that my taste?*
If Li Mengjiao weren’t tied up in rehearsals, he’d demand an explanation from her now.
Geng Xiao suggested informing Li’s mother, and Wen Ying agreed.
After hearing the full story, Li’s mother was deeply grateful. “You can’t have ill intentions, but you must guard against others’. You’re too trusting, child. Thank you.”
Being upfront about potential issues was key—preparation could nip trouble in the bud.
Hiding things or lacking information left you vulnerable to harm, with accountability coming too late.
Li’s mother appreciated Wen Ying’s candor, knowing others might hesitate to bring up such a “family scandal.”
Wen Ying’s openness stemmed from her forthright nature—she wasn’t afraid to air “dirty laundry.”
Even if Deng Shangwei had truly cheated, no one would think less of Wen Ying for it.
With the group watching her closely, Pan Li had no chance to stir trouble.
Li’s mother even took custody of Li Mengjiao’s performance outfit for the evening.
When Li Mengjiao, on a break, heard about it, Wang Shuang lectured her to steer clear of people like Pan Li. Annoyed, she snapped, “Enough! With all of you watching, how could she harm me? After tonight, I’m back to school. I won’t deal with her again.”
Her confidence was firm.
Wen Ying thought of the passionate fans outside and felt Li Mengjiao’s words were premature.
Some people were destined to shine on stage, lacking only the right opportunity.
In her past life, Li Mengjiao’s 2005 Super Girl run fell short, likely due to various factors. Wang Shuang was probably gone by then, and Li Mengjiao, for unknown reasons, obsessively pursued Xie Qian, a far cry from her current mindset.
In this life, her 2004 Super Girl journey was smooth, amassing a huge fanbase. Unsigned due to her youth, Wen Ying believed she’d eventually enter the entertainment industry.
Once you’ve tasted the spotlight’s radiance, returning to obscurity was hard.
“Being cautious can’t hurt. Some will love you, but others will harbor malice. Pan Li might not be the only one scheming,” Wen Ying warned.
Li Mengjiao listened to Wen Ying, nodding obediently without arguing, unlike her impatience with Wang Shuang, who fumed at the double standard.
While Wen Ying’s group held their urgent meeting, Pan Li’s heart raced.
When Professor Fang retreated to the lounge, Pan Li followed, voice trembling with tears as she recounted seeing Wen Ying and Xie Qian. “Professor, I’ve come all the way to Hunan, and they still won’t let me go…”
Fang frowned. “Have they approached you?”
Pan Li shook her head. “Not yet, but it’s only a matter of time. You’ve seen their methods—they don’t act like teens.”
Indeed, they didn’t.
Wen Ying and Xie Qian’s tactics at the music academy were swift, precise, and ruthless, giving even the school’s leadership headaches.
If adults were involved, Fang might suggest a sit-down. But kids like Wen Ying and Xie Qian, fiercely righteous, were impossible to reason with.
Having spotted Pan Li, the odds of them confronting her publicly were high.
Though Fang had taken Pan Li on as an assistant, she didn’t want her past exposed in front of everyone. Guilt by association could taint Fang’s own reputation.
Sternly, Fang asked, “Have you completely cut ties with that man? If you’re still in contact, I won’t defend you when they come for you.”
Pan Li swore up and down, pinning her deception on Yu Wenhao and blaming Deng Shangwei for immense emotional and physical harm. She claimed youthful ignorance led to her mistake, for which she’d been punished, insisting she’d never reconnect with such a man.
Moved by her tearful plea, Fang softened. “You can’t undo past mistakes, but you’ve paid the price. If they keep hounding you over it… fine. I’ll talk to them. Better to avoid trouble. I hope they’ll listen.”
Pan Li’s tears turned to a smile.
“Thank you, Professor!”
