Chapter 2: Aren't We Friends Too?

“…It’s true that you won the qualification for this competition, but that doesn’t actually mean you’re the most suitable candidate.”

“Sometimes we have to think about the bigger picture, right?”

“Teacher isn’t saying your watercolors aren’t good. It’s just that most of the judges come from oil painting or traditional Chinese painting backgrounds. There’s bound to be some bias when they score.”

“This is an unspoken rule everyone knows. You’re just too young, you don’t understand these things yet.”

“How about this—Sun Miao, who came in second, specializes in oil painting. She fits the requirements for this competition better than you do… Sui Mi? Sui Mi, Teacher is talking to you!”

Behind the desk, the counselor droned on and on, having gradually shifted from subtle hints to outright demands.

But the girl sitting obediently in front of the desk had her lashes lowered. She looked like she was listening carefully, but she was clearly miles away, lost in who-knows-what.

The counselor raised his voice, frowning as if he were terribly imposing.

“Sui Mi, I’ve said so much. Have you thought it over?”

The girl seemed to snap back to reality. She paused for a few seconds. “Oh.”

…What did “oh” mean?

Just like the higher-ups. He asked yes or no, and she gave him an “or”?

The counselor crossed his other leg, tapping the pen tip against the desk—*tap tap tap*—and asked with his last shred of patience: “So, do you agree to give up your spot to Sun Miao?”

Sui Mi didn’t answer again. She just blankly moved the hands resting on her knees.

Her fingers were slender and pale, but at the webbing between her thumbs and index fingers were two red marks, clearly left by someone pinching her.

Sui Mi stayed silent and pinched herself again. And again. And again.

It hurt quite a bit.

Not a dream.

How could it not be a dream!

An hour ago, she’d inexplicably woken up in her single dorm bed, staring blankly at the blackout curtains for a while.

Then she got the counselor’s call, wandered through the Jing University campus in total confusion, rushed to the administration building office, and heard the counselor bring up the quota for the Hualing Cup art exhibition.

Sui Mi confirmed it over and over, and finally, slowly, accepted one reality.

She had been reborn.

No natural disaster, no man-made calamity.

It happened right after she handed the divorce agreement drafted by the lawyer to Xi Jianbai when he got home from work.

She saw Xi Jianbai take it in silence, lowering his eyes to stare at the divorce agreement as if studying it closely.

Sui Mi didn’t disturb him. Feeling she’d solved a major problem, she relaxed in body and mind, walked into the bedroom, and spread open her suitcase to start packing.

Clothes, jewelry—she balled them up and stuffed them in.

Whatever she was too lazy to move, she just left behind.

Before Sui Mi could even feel nostalgic or melancholic about the master bedroom she’d lived in for over three years, she heard familiar footsteps outside the walk-in closet, slightly more hurried than usual.

She turned her head to look.

Xi Jianbai appeared at the doorway, his thin lips pressed tight, fingertips gripping that snow-white agreement so hard his knuckles showed faint white.

His pair of light-colored eyes stared straight at her, his voice slightly stuck as he asked in a low tone: “Have you decided?”

Maybe it was the angle.

Sui Mi was squatting by the suitcase, looking up from below. The bright lights were entirely blocked out beyond the man’s high, deep brow bone.

Because of that, those always-distant eyes seemed soaked in the shadows cast by his long lashes, inexplicably giving off a cold, dark depth.

Probably an illusion.

Angles and lighting are deceiving—they weren’t lying.

They’d even managed to outline her rigid, proper soon-to-be-ex-husband with a hidden, eerie vibe.

Thinking this, Sui Mi felt a bit amused. She patted off nonexistent dust from her knees and politely stood up to reply.

“Yes, I feel this marriage isn’t suitable to con—”

Squatting too long, standing up suddenly—insufficient blood flow to the brain.

Sui Mi only felt a buzzing tinnitus, her vision abruptly covered by a layer of black, and she staggered a few steps uncontrollably.

She reflexively reached out, trying to grab the nearby cabinet door.

Her fingertips grasped at the air twice, but first touched the man’s warm, broad palm.

Sui Mi’s vision went black in waves. In the flickering light and shadow, she saw Xi Jianbai striding forward to support her, and…

Something clutched tightly in Xi Jianbai’s other palm, revealing a sliver of cold silver-white edges and dangling clasps.

Sui Mi: “?”

Why did it look like… some kind of restraining… hand… cuffs…?

Her head was dizzy.

Sui Mi opened her mouth to ask, her eyelids drooping shut from exhaustion, then opening again.

That spinning, weightless sensation was brutally and unexpectedly slammed with a stop button, halting abruptly.

Sui Mi lay in her single dorm bed, blankly staring wide-eyed at the little bear plushie beside her pillow.

“…”

Sui Mi recalled it all over again in disbelief.

What, can low blood sugar trigger a rebirth mechanism now?

Or was this karma for asking Xi Jianbai for a divorce?

Maybe she’d been immersed in her memories for too long.

Behind the desk, the counselor lost his last bit of patience. *Clack.* He threw his pen heavily onto the desk.

The fake kindness vanished from his face, and he stopped hiding behind grand-sounding words.

“Sui Mi, let me say it directly. Forget about the Hualing Cup this time.”

“If you’re obedient and give up the spot yourself, Director Sun can still pull some strings for you, get you qualified for another competition. The prestige won’t be any lower, and it’ll be a good thing for you too.”

“But if you’re not obedient…”

The counselor chuckled.

“Sui Mi, you’re just a young girl. There’s really no need to make things ugly. After all, you still have to attend classes, take exams, compete for awards and honors in the academy later. Getting along well with your teachers is never wrong, is it?”

After speaking, he glanced sideways at the girl’s fair, soft, obedient little face, reached for the thermos at the edge of the desk, unscrewed the cap, and leisurely took a sip of tea.

“Teacher has been through it too. I’m telling you all this for your own good.”

“Think it over carefully. Don’t narrow your future path just to vent some anger.”

The office had a two-desk layout.

The counselor sat behind the left desk; the right desk belonged to another administrative teacher from the Academy of Fine Arts.

Hearing the counselor’s seemingly kindhearted but actually threatening words, that administrative teacher’s expression didn’t change at all. He kept typing on his keyboard, even chuckling along: “It’s only because Teacher Liu is kind-hearted, caring for and protecting students so much.”

So sincere it almost sounded like sarcasm.

In the small office, amid contemptuous gazes and mocking laughter, sharp malice quietly condensed, descending overwhelmingly toward the frail girl.

The counselor had used such tactics plenty of times.

Usually at this point, students would show eyes mixed with anger and fear. At first they might try to talk tough, but they’d quickly recognize reality and unwillingly hand over the spots, grades, and rewards that rightfully belonged to them.

He put down the thermos, looking at the pitiful girl with her head bowed, ready to press his advantage.

Unexpectedly, he met her gaze as she looked up—clear, clean, dark almond eyes like washed glass.

Not a trace of nervousness or fear. Instead, there was a hint of amused curiosity.

“Director Sun?”

Sui Mi curved her eyes slightly and asked: “Because he’s related to Sun Miao, you want me to give up my spot?”

She asked bluntly.

The counselor glanced at the phone she had flipped face-down on her lap, just smiled, dodging the heavy stuff with bureaucratic nonsense: “Teacher doesn’t know what you’re talking about. The academy’s decisions are naturally made with the whole academy in mind.”

His attitude explained everything.

Sui Mi understood. She even had the presence of mind to recall how she’d handled this in her past life.

…Too long ago, and not important. She’d already forgotten.

Honestly, the Hualing Cup wasn’t some must-attend exhibition for her.

As the pampered eldest miss raised by the Sui family, she’d already participated in top domestic and international exhibitions countless times with her works.

A mere college student art exhibition—Sui Mi hadn’t cared about it initially.

But a qualification that had already fallen into her hands, being forced out of her through threats and bribes just to benefit someone else?

That made Sui Mi very unhappy.

Who knew how many students who deserved glory they’d targeted with these methods.

Sui Mi unhurriedly took out her phone, flipping through her contacts.

Since this Director Sun wanted to use his status and power to demand she give up her spot…

Then what would he do if he ran into someone with even more status and power?

She lowered her head, calm and composed, her slender pale fingers tapping the phone screen—*tap tap*.

The counselor, however, thought Sui Mi still hadn’t given up, still wanted to struggle before death. He immediately stood up, reaching out to snatch her phone.

“Sui Mi, Teacher is talking to you. Who told you to play on your phone?”

Sui Mi gripped the phone and dodged backward.

Just as the counselor was fiercely trying to get around the desk—

*Knock knock.*

The open door was rapped by knuckles.

A cold, low voice sounded at the doorway.

“Teacher Liu, I’m here to deliver the basketball tournament schedule.”