Jiang Ling, upon seeing this content, was utterly bewildered.
She didn’t understand any of it, but just from the wording in those descriptions, she could vaguely guess that these probably weren’t pleasant memories for Shen Yue.
So, she first put on her Bluetooth earpiece, and only then clicked open a related news report.
It was a video, just over a minute long, briefly and concisely introducing how, as a composer, Shen Yue had been… subjected to cyberbullying.
Jiang Ling frowned as soon as the first scene appeared. In the center of the video, Shen Yue was walking down the street in a hat and mask, looking disheveled, surrounded by a swarm of cameras.
Flashing lights struck her face again and again, and around her came the shrill, desperate shouts of reporters—
“What do you think about Mr. Meng saying the music you wrote is a pile of trash?”
“Are you really just putting on a show for fame? I heard that during your collaboration with Candy, you got along terribly and were eventually kicked off the album production.”
“Please—”
With trembling fingers, Jiang Ling pressed the pause button. The screen froze on Shen Yue’s somewhat haggard face, her eyes—once dazzling like obsidian—now dull and lifeless.
Her body looked so small, so slight that she was nearly swallowed up by the crowd of cameras, almost indistinguishable from the chaos.
Jiang Ling couldn’t keep watching. Instead, she turned her complicated gaze to the downcast Shen Yue and immediately apologized, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring all that up.”
She hadn’t expected that Shen Yue had been through such things. For a moment, she didn’t know what to say, so she could only sincerely express her apology.
As for those overwhelming negative comments, honestly, Jiang Ling didn’t believe them outright.
After all, things on the internet are always tangled and complex. She herself had been nitpicked and criticized before, so she knew just how helpless that felt.
At least until she knew the truth, Jiang Ling wouldn’t believe it—but she wouldn’t wrongly accuse Shen Yue either.
“It’s fine.”
Shen Yue waved her hand lightly, her expression unchanged. Then, locking eyes with Jiang Ling, she spoke again, “So do you understand what I mean now?”
“My songs aren’t liked by anyone.”
“And I… am not liked either.”
“You… you’re an interesting person, willing to eat with me and talk to me. I’m really grateful for that. But you’d better not buy my songs. If it’s found out I wrote them, you’ll face a lot of public backlash.”
Shen Yue went on talking to herself, “If only I’m treated like this, that’s one thing, but I can’t let you get targeted just for buying my songs—”
Suddenly, her breathing turned sharp, and her words cut off.
Startled, Jiang Ling looked up, meeting Shen Yue’s face, pale as paper. The hand gripping her glass was trembling uncontrollably.
“Shen Yue?”
Jiang Ling called out in a low, anxious voice, hurriedly getting up and walking over to Shen Yue’s side, hand outstretched to touch her unnaturally cold face.
Don’t worry, if you don’t want to talk, you don’t have to.
Although they hadn’t known each other long, Jiang Ling couldn’t bear to see such a cute girl in front of her cry.
“Don’t… Don’t touch me!”
But Shen Yue didn’t stop trembling. Instead, she desperately shook off Jiang Ling’s hand, stumbling backward and slamming into the sofa’s backrest with a muffled, panicked thud.
“Bang!”
Seeing her so on guard, Jiang Ling didn’t step forward again, instead carefully backing away, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. Please, just calm down, okay?”
All of Shen Yue’s earlier defenselessness had vanished. Now she was like a hedgehog, bristling with thorns, watching warily as Jiang Ling moved farther away, her breath ragged.
Jiang Ling obediently returned to her seat, making no extra movements or remarks—just waiting quietly for Shen Yue to recover.
She didn’t know how long it took.
Slowly, Shen Yue straightened up, picked up her glass and drained her drink, then looked over with a guilty glint in her eyes, her voice a bit hoarse, “Sorry, I might… have overreacted. Let’s end here for today. I really enjoyed eating with you.”
As she spoke, she looked away awkwardly, then quickly stood up and went over to the shop owner, who had been watching with concern, pulling out her payment code to settle the bill.
Jiang Ling could only watch as she finished paying, pulled a mask from her pocket, put it on, lowered her head, and walked out of the shop, disappearing into the surging crowd.
For some reason, Jiang Ling’s heart suddenly ached.
After she got back, Jiang Ling’s mind was still a bit blank. Shen Yue’s distressed and struggling face kept replaying in her mind, and for a while she didn’t know what to say to her waiting teammates.
Bai Xue saw her walk in dazed and immediately frowned, steadying Jiang Ling and pulling her into her arms with concern, “What, did your soul get left behind out there?”
Hearing this, Jiang Ling couldn’t help sighing. Not being dramatic, she simply buried herself in Bai Xue’s warm embrace, curling up, and whispered, “Bai Xue…”
“I’m here.”
Bai Xue gently stroked her, her voice warm.
“I think I messed up.”
Jiang Ling muttered, arms tightening around Bai Xue’s waist.
“It’s alright.”
Bai Xue didn’t say much more, only patiently comforting her, “Everyone’s inside waiting for you. Don’t put too much pressure on yourself. This isn’t just your burden—no one will blame you.”
Jiang Ling’s head, buried in Bai Xue’s arms, shifted a bit as if nodding.
Everyone else, seeing Jiang Ling enter so silently, immediately picked up on her mood.
“What happened, did someone bully you?”
Fang Wannian instantly frowned, looking ready to start a fight.
Mo Ran patted the seat beside her, “Anyway, sit down first. No matter what happened, we’re on your side.”
Lin Xiaoyu, meanwhile, tore open her favorite snack and offered it to Jiang Ling, “Have something tasty, try to relax?”
Feeling everyone’s warmth, Jiang Ling’s jumbled mood improved a bit. Forcing a smile, she shook her head, “It’s not that serious, but there is a problem.”
With that, she recounted everything that had happened in the burger shop.
The first to react after hearing it all was Bai Xue.
“Shen Yue?”
She frowned, looking incredulous.
Jiang Ling glanced at her and asked in return, “You know her?”
“Mm… You could say that.”
Bai Xue’s expression grew subtle. She withdrew her gaze, not bothering with any mystery, and explained word by word, “She previously collaborated with Candy, as the main composer for their album.”
“But that collaboration didn’t go well.”
“I don’t care about Bai Ming, but for the four girls under him… I always tried to help them however I could, so I know roughly what happened then.”
As she spoke, Bai Xue found a news article about Shen Yue and showed it to everyone—
Genius Composer Girl Collaborates with Famous Girl Group—What Kind of Sparks Will Fly?
“Actually, when they first worked together, the reviews were great. Shen Yue had been active online under her real name for quite some time, and the songs she produced were all hugely popular.”
“But later, the public opinion about her suddenly reversed overnight…”
Bai Xue recalled, letting out a barely audible sigh.
“At that time, Candy was just one step away from becoming a top girl group, and Shen Yue, who composed their title track, was a rookie. Meng Qiang, who had written many hits for Candy before, angrily criticized her song in an interview, saying it was flashy but shallow.”
“At the same time, photos of Shen Yue arguing with Candy members suddenly surfaced online, and the rest… well, you already know.”
Jiang Ling pressed her lips together tightly, memories of Shen Yue’s wary, almost hostile reaction to her earlier replaying in her mind, her worry deepening.
“I didn’t realize the burger girl was her,” Bai Xue closed the web page, “but if it’s her, it’s not surprising she wrote such excellent songs.”
Then she shifted her tone, “But honestly and rationally, we shouldn’t keep clinging to Shen Yue.”
After a pause, Bai Xue quietly watched as Jiang Ling’s face grew more and more stubborn.
“Do you understand what I mean?”