"You haven’t seen those people. They can’t even pronounce their consonants right, mixing up their Ns and Ls. I bet even someone like me could make it into the top ten! And you? You could easily win. The grand prize is two hundred yuan and a tape recorder..."
"I’m in," Xia Zhaoyun suddenly said.
"I know you love to dance and usually aren’t interested in anything else, but things are different now. Without the Song Family... Wait, you’re in?" He Qingran said happily. "That’s the spirit! A wise person adapts to their circumstances!"
"I’ll get you the application form tomorrow," she said, unable to stop herself from explaining the competition’s rules and requirements to Xia Zhaoyun. She grew more and more excited as she spoke, wishing she could light a lamp and have Xia Zhaoyun write her draft right then and there.
Just then, someone knocked on the door. "Song Ruoyun, someone’s downstairs looking for you!"
After speaking, the person poked her head in and looked around, a gloating smile on her face. "Well, well. I never thought I’d see our troupe’s star performer living in the dorms. Just give a shout if you need anything, won’t you?"
Before Xia Zhaoyun could say a word, He Qingran arched an eyebrow and sneered. She glanced at the group of women who were walking over with washbasins, having just finished their showers, and raised her voice, holding nothing back.
"If someone’s taking a crap in the outhouse, are you going to stand on the wall and watch? What’s next, you gonna drag a bunch of your little friends over to gawk too?"
"Have you no shame? You see someone else’s misfortune and you’re over the moon, thinking some goddess has fallen from the heavens to become a mere mortal like you."
Her words made all the girls’ faces flush red. The young women who managed to get into the arts troupe all came from decent families and had trained since childhood. They prided themselves on being city folk, were thin-skinned, and would never dream of using such vulgar language.
After holding it in for a good while, one of the women spat out what she believed to be the most vicious insult she could muster, "Someone with no mother to teach them is bound to be crude!"
Xia Zhaoyun’s eyes turned cold. She pulled He Qingran behind her, strode up to the woman, and jabbed a finger into her shoulder. "Who are you calling ill-mannered? Does saying something like that make you well-mannered? What, was your mother a stepmother?"
The woman was backed against the wall. "Song Ruoyun, do you even know who I am? You’re all alone now. You’d better learn your place..."
"Who? The daughter of some workshop’s procurement director?" Xia Zhaoyun raised an eyebrow. "My, my. Everyone says the procurement department is a very profitable position. Did you know that?"
The crowd fell silent. It had never occurred to them that the family backgrounds they relied on could also be their Achilles’ heel.
Everyone who knew him could rack their brains and still not find a single flaw.
A cold glint flashed in Xia Zhaoyun’s eyes. ’If it weren’t for the hazy memories of the future that had suddenly flooded her mind right when Song Zhenbao fell down the stairs, she wouldn’t have just stood there in a stupor, letting Father Song strike her. She wouldn’t have been left with a permanently damaged ear and hand!’
’And she certainly never would have known just how hypocritical and disgusting this man standing before her truly was.’
She had never particularly liked him in the first place. It was simply that their family backgrounds were a good match, he was flawless on paper, and no man had ever come along who truly made her heart skip a beat. Figuring she had to get married eventually, she had taken a passive approach and allowed her mother to arrange things with this wolf in sheep’s clothing.
Even if she wasn’t sure whether the events from her memories would actually come to pass, the slightest possibility of it felt as disgusting as having swallowed a fly.
With her left hand, Xia Zhaoyun brushed back her hair. The glossy, smooth strands covered the uninjured right side of her face, while she tucked the hair on her left behind her ear. This revealed the swollen, purplish-blue bruises there, along with a split and equally swollen lip.
Father Song had been ruthless, concentrating all his fury into that single slap. His fingernails had scraped across her brow bone, causing her eyelid to swell and fill with blood.

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