Song Yue was dumped into the back seat of the black Mercedes without a shred of gentleness.
She tumbled against the leather seat, hair completely messed up. After steadying herself, she hurriedly ran her fingers through it and glared at the man in front with grievance written all over her face. "Uncle, I haven't even washed my face!"
Her hand subconsciously pressed against her chest. Her heart was still pounding from being dragged out of bed. Thankfully, at least her clothes were put on properly. If he had really carried her out half-dressed, she would never have been able to show her face again.
Nie Rougang calmly got into the driver's seat and fastened his seatbelt. His tone was flat, as if nothing unusual had happened. "There are toiletries in the compartment."
Song Yue froze for a second, then leaned over to open the insulated box beside her. When she saw what was inside, she blinked in surprise. Face wipes, mouthwash, a comb, even skincare products. They were all familiar—exactly the same brands she used at home.
A strange warmth spread quietly through her chest.
She quickly cleaned her face, brushed her hair, and freshened up. Just as she finished, her stomach let out a very ungraceful growl, loud enough to break the silence in the car.
Her ears turned red. She lowered her voice and muttered, "Uncle… I'm hungry."
Nie Rougang didn't even glance at her. His hands stayed steady on the steering wheel. "You overslept. That's your own problem," he said coldly. "Go hungry. Consider it punishment."
Song Yue puffed out her cheeks and turned her head away, sulking. Stupid man.
If he hadn't dragged her out of bed like a robber, her heart wouldn't still be racing. If he had just given her what she wanted—him—she wouldn't have spent the whole night wide awake, tossing and turning until dawn.
She crossed her arms tightly and decided she wouldn't say another word to him.
The car soon stopped at the school gate.
Nie Rougang reminded her to study hard, but she acted as if she hadn't heard a thing. She pushed the door open, slammed it shut behind her, and stormed toward the entrance without looking back.
She had barely taken three steps when someone called out to her.
A man hurried over from another parked car and respectfully handed her a paper bag. "Miss Song, the president asked me to buy this for you."
Song Yue stopped in her tracks.
She recognized him immediately. He was one of Nie Rougang's men.
Her fingers tightened around the bag. So he'd said he would let her starve, but still secretly ordered breakfast for her?
The anger in her heart melted away in an instant.
She turned back, wanting to say something, but the man bowed politely and left at once. The black Mercedes drove past her and disappeared down the road.
Song Yue stared after it, a faint smile appearing on her lips. Maybe she would reward him with a kiss later.
Then again… Lan Xia always said men shouldn't be spoiled too much. And Song Yue herself had a bad habit of getting carried away.
Still, she couldn't help it. She wanted to be the only one allowed to kiss his lips.
"What's that?" Lan Xia suddenly appeared beside her and grabbed for the paper bag. "I'm starving!"
Song Yue snapped out of it and quickly pulled the bag back. "This was bought for me by my uncle! We can share, but I'm the one in charge."
Lan Xia laughed. "Yes, yes. You're always in charge, Your Highness."
Song Yue opened the bag proudly. Inside were meat buns, rice balls, and hot soy milk, all still steaming. "This is a love-filled breakfast," she said smugly. "Straight from his heart."
Lan Xia swallowed. "That smells incredible."
"It's easy to gain weight if you eat too much," Song Yue said seriously. "For my weight-loss plan, I'll generously share."
Her eyes drifted to Lan Xia's slim, effortless figure, and envy flashed across her face. If she could just lose a bit more weight… Nie Rougang would definitely—
She snapped out of it and tossed a rice ball neatly into Lan Xia's mouth. "Goal. Perfect aim."
Lan Xia chewed happily. "Don't forget you still owe me money."
"I know." Song Yue took out the cash she had taken from Li Meiran's wallet. After a brief hesitation, she kept one hundred yuan for herself and handed the rest over. "We split it."
Lan Xia's eyes widened. "That young master gave you this much?"
Song Yue smiled slyly. She imagined that man discovering his empty wallet and losing his temper. He probably was.
He had bullied her, hurt her, and even scared her. Taking one wallet was already being merciful. Besides, someone like him surely had dozens more.
And yet, for no clear reason, a chill crept up her spine.
It felt as if… someone was watching her.
The bell rang as they walked into the classroom.
Homework was collected by the class representative, Song Weisha, and placed neatly on the teacher's desk.
The first lesson dragged on endlessly. Song Yue listened half-heartedly. Ancient poetry was easy for her; she had memorized most of it years ago. She stifled a yawn, bored.
At last, the teacher began checking homework.
He opened Song Weisha's notebook.
The change in his expression was immediate.
Song Yue's lips slowly curved upward.
Here it comes.
"Song Weisha," the teacher shouted, slamming the notebook onto the desk, "did you write this?"
A student in the front row leaned forward and read aloud, barely holding back laughter:
"Dead vines, old trees, evil crows…
Who are you, who am I, time to fly…
Wall-to-wall, booty call, booty call…
Oh no, oh my God, I am a dog…
You're ugly, you're cross-eyed—AND I'M BLIND!"
The classroom exploded with laughter.
Song Yue laughed so hard her shoulders shook.
Song Weisha's face burned red. She wished the ground would open up and swallow her whole. She knew it. This had to be Song Yue's doing.
"Disgusting!" Teacher Yang roared. "I always thought you were well-behaved and proper! Booty call? What kind of nonsense is this?!"
"I will inform your parents and report this to the principal!"
Song Weisha panicked. "Teacher Yang—this homework was written by Song Yue..."
Laughter that had been rolling freely through the classroom came to an abrupt stop.
It was as if someone had pressed a mute button.
All eyes turned in the same direction.
Song Yue slowly lifted her head. A gentle, harmless smile bloomed on her face, the kind that looked soft enough to fool anyone who didn't know her well.
"Oh?" she said lightly, her voice calm and sweet. "Cousin… are you saying I'm ugly too?"
The room went deathly quiet.
If looks could truly kill, Song Weisha would have collapsed on the spot.
"Song Weisha," Song Yue continued lazily, resting her chin on her hand, "blaming me won't help you. We share a surname, not a notebook. The teacher already checked mine. Maybe you were too distracted yesterday and forgot what you actually wrote?"
She paused there, the corners of her lips lifting slightly, as if she had said nothing serious at all.
Only she knew how sharp that sentence was.
Nie Rougang had sent her to one of the most elite private schools in the country, but her background was kept completely hidden. He wanted her to grow up under strict rules, not special treatment. To the teachers, Song Yue was just another student with average grades and a quiet file.
Which meant one thing.