A life called Meng Huange…?
Hearing Meng Huange’s seemingly heartfelt confession, Su Wanli pursed her lips tightly, momentarily at a loss for how to respond.
In fact, compared to some strange and mystical System-related explanations, Meng Huange’s speculation was far more reasonable.
If she herself wasn’t here because of a System mission, but simply playing the role of a villainous eldest Miss, bearing the responsibilities and burdens of the Su Family while always seeing someone like Meng Huange—an exceptionally gifted talent—by her side, it was only natural that she would feel uneasy.
No, Meng Wange’s choice of words was still too cautious. If it were Fen Wanjin speaking, that feeling would be more like self-loathing.
So, was she standing there worried that her own Virtue bred jealousy, resenting and detesting her brilliance?
…So that was it. This was the main reason Meng Huange had called her here.
She truly didn’t know whether to say she was thoughtful or cunning. Even Su Wanli, who was merely pretending to be a villainous eldest Miss, felt a faint stirring of emotion at her rhetoric.
—If only she knew that Meng Huange’s disgust toward her was still at a 70% level.
Su Wanli understood that even though Meng Huange’s gaze and posture tried their best to convey loyalty, it was all just a well-rehearsed act carefully crafted by the female lead.
After all, a female lead brimming with talent, ambition, and a bright future could never sincerely swear allegiance to a petty villainess in some dim little room.
More than being inexplicably moved, it was more important to maintain her own character. Besides, for some reason, Meng Huange’s words only fueled her anger.
“… Hmph, your life.”
Su Wanli took a deep breath, withdrawing her hand from Meng Huange’s palm, then crossed her arms and said coldly,
“Meng Huange, if I’m not mistaken, what you just said means that Su Xiaoli feels inferior because of your excellence, is that right?”
Meng Huange maintained her original posture, smiling as she lifted her head to meet Su Wanli’s gaze.
“Silence means consent?”
Su Wanli slightly lowered her head and shook her head at Meng Huange, who had positioned herself right in front of her.
“Meng Huange, you’re way too full of yourself. Even if I am temporarily not as good as you in some aspects, as the only daughter of the Su Family in South City, the sole heir to the Su Family’s future, as long as I want to learn, there are countless people ready to provide me with the best education.”
“And you? After all, you’re just a high school girl not yet eighteen.”
“…You’re right. Like I just said, this is only my subjective guess as a subordinate.”
Meng Huange chuckled softly and stood up, flicking a finger at the corner of her lips.
“I know my words might anger you. However, if I want to become the person closest to you, this is a truth I must confirm.”
After speaking, she gracefully stepped back two paces, maintaining a safe social distance, then bowed respectfully toward Su Xiaoli.
“Thank you very much, Miss Xiaoli, for giving me the hope I so longed for.”
“You’re right. Even if I have some strengths, they are merely extensions of your talents.”
“As I once said, the only thing I’m truly good at is learning.”
“If there’s something you need but have no one to tend to it, you can entrust it to me without worry. If there’s something you want to learn within my capabilities, I will do my utmost to be your best instructor.”
“And that, is the greatest value I can offer you as your Strategist and tool.”
Though Su Wanli knew Meng Huange’s words were all part of her act, after hearing them she couldn’t help but silently roll her eyes at her.
“Sigh, sometimes I really can’t tell if you’re just pretending to be strong or simply don’t understand people…”
Su Wanli took two steps forward, closing the distance Meng Huange had set, then grabbed the strap of the backpack hanging on her shoulder and yanked it toward herself, glaring fiercely into Meng Huange’s eyes.
“… Meng Huange, I already told you yesterday morning. Just like that broken hairpin still lying on my vanity, I don’t need your life. All those things you want to entrust to me are just burdens in my life.”
With that, Su Wanli released her hand and lightly pushed Meng Huange forward.
“Also, don’t bring up those little favors Su Heng threw your way. Those aren’t things I gave you.”
Meng Huange wobbled slightly but regained her balance.
“Hmm.”
She nonchalantly straightened her sleeve and, wearing her usual faint smile, looked seriously into Su Wanli’s eyes.
“Then what about the butter shrimp?”
“Huh?”
“That butter shrimp you left on my desk at noon today was indeed something you personally gave me.”
Su Xiaoli frowned in confusion.
“So what if it was? That was just the leftovers I compensated you with.”
“And besides, there was the first time someone accompanied me to the Amusement Park, the first time someone cooked butter shrimp for me, the first time someone listened to my past stories.”
“Though it’s only been three short days, every single thing you gave me, I have firmly kept in my heart.”
Counting on her fingers the experiences of these past two days, Meng Huange then took off her backpack, sitting down without concern for her image on a nearby exercise mat. She pulled out a black Painting Scroll from her bag.
“—Also, this is the first time someone has been willing to personally paint my portrait.”
Meng Huange carefully held the scroll in her palm, pulling out the paper and slowly unrolling it on the exercise mat.
“So, as the final proof of today, I asked the Art Instructor for this.”
Looking at that familiar piece of paper, the confusion on Su Wanli’s brow deepened.
“…Isn’t this the Sketch the Art Instructor told you to bring back for refinement?”
“No, this is the Sketch you drew for me.”
Meng Huange smiled faintly at Su Wanli, then produced a wooden easel from somewhere and placed Su Wanli’s rough painting onto it.
“Sorry, Miss Su, during Art class, I devoted all my energy into completing your request. I didn’t get a chance to properly appreciate your artwork until this very moment.”
With a soft click, Meng Huange turned on the lights in the Art Room, illuminating every detail of the painting with dazzling clarity.
The painting outlined Meng Huange’s features—her face shape, hair strands, and eyes—stroke by stroke, in comparison to Su Wanli’s own appearance.
Though the Instructor had praised this painting, that was only relative to Su Wanli’s previous level. In reality, the lines were crooked, the shapes inaccurate, and the likeness to Meng Huange was miles apart.
Yet, gazing at this rough painting, there wasn’t a hint of mockery in Meng Huange’s eyes.
Instead, bathed in the light, there was a faint, almost predatory gleam.
“Miss Su, whether you believe it or not, this is the first time someone has painted my portrait, and they took it so seriously.”
“At this moment, my brain is genuinely filled with joy, and my heart is beating much faster than usual.”
Meng Huange turned around, facing both Su Wanli and the painting of herself, then smiled as she extended her hand.
“If you don’t believe me, you can try touching my chest.”
“It’s beating for you.”
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