In the end, Shen Zhishu still let him go and promised she would ask a friend about this kind of situation. As a price, she took away Pei Xingyan’s contact information.
Although describing it as a “price” felt a bit odd to him, he couldn’t think of a better way to put it.
In that instant, he was sure he hadn’t seen wrong—the look on Shen Zhishu’s face was almost exactly like Ye Ziwei’s, that bloodthirsty expression of fearing her prey would be snatched away.
But what did that have to do with him?
He really wasn’t close with this big shot; they weren’t even acquaintances who nodded in passing…
Maybe they had met before. When he was young, he did see a lot of prominent people, but that was a long time ago…
Pei Xingyan couldn’t figure it out, so he just shook his head and buried the question deep in his heart.
Now the timing was perfect. He was ready to walk into Lin Xiaoyu’s heart.
【I’m going to an event tonight! I’m going to use the techniques you taught me and crush the competition! (^▽^)】
After sending this “preview” message, Lin Xiaoyu replied almost immediately.
Compared to her usual average response time, this was several times faster—she was practically glued to her phone, waiting in anticipation.
“Um, then… good luck.”
She seemed like she wanted to say more, but stopped herself, looking extremely troubled.
Pei Xingyan didn’t even have to think. He knew Lin Xiaoyu was feeling insecure about the knowledge she’d taught him, worried it might affect him.
Maybe she was even having an inner struggle right now, wanting to tell him the truth.
That wouldn’t do.
He chatted with her a bit, then quickly ended the conversation.
*****
The next morning, he had no classes. It was the perfect time for Pei Xingyan’s psychological maneuver.
【I failed…】
It was a message that looked downright dejected.
Lin Xiaoyu replied quickly as always, clearly very concerned about how things were going.
“Was there a problem?”
Her voice was trembling, like a shy, introverted kid being called up to speak in front of hundreds in a lecture hall.
Such a pure girl, yet with a strong sense of responsibility—she was terrified that she’d caused Pei Xingyan’s failure.
Pei Xingyan almost felt bad for deceiving her. Her voice was so soft, so timid; he could already imagine how upset she’d be in a moment.
But he still sent the message.
【Sigh…】
【I went to a competition at a nearby Qin Hang yesterday. The prize was a new instrument, and I was sure I’d win.】
【But when it came time to strum, I thought I’d try out that technique you taught me.】
【It didn’t go well…】
Lin Xiaoyu replied in seconds: “What happened?”
She was so anxious she was about to cry, breathing unevenly, her voice tinged with sorrow. Hearing it made Pei Xingyan’s heart ache.
That day, there had been an aisle between him and Lin Xiaoyu, so he hadn’t seen her clearly. But now he could imagine a quiet, gentle girl with tears streaming down her face, filled with pain and dread.
【When I strummed, the scraping noise was especially loud, and I ended up losing…】
【Maybe it’s just my own lack of skill, really, it’s no big deal.】
【Anyway, that Qin Hang is stingy, and the prize was nothing special.】
【Just wanted to tell you, don’t take it to heart.】
Pei Xingyan paused, wanting to see how Lin Xiaoyu would react.
He was already being merciful—he’d originally planned to say, “If I had a new instrument, I could play even better for my parents next time.”
With a girl as kind as her, that would definitely have hit her hard.
And she was already somewhat fragile, so pitiful.
So Pei Xingyan held back a little.
But Lin Xiaoyu’s reaction was still extremely intense. Her next message was a whole minute long—the limit for a voice message, though not for her feelings.
And in that full minute, she barely said anything coherent. All he could hear was her sobbing, sniffling, and stammering:
“I-I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… wu wu…”
Things were going exactly as Pei Xingyan had expected.
He couldn’t help but chuckle softly, then quickly replied:
【Don’t say that.】
【You put in so much effort teaching me, told me so much I’d never heard before. There’s nothing to apologize for!】
【Don’t get me wrong, I’m not blaming you, really!】
【I’m just a bit frustrated about failing, and you’re the only friend I can talk to about it.】
【Please don’t overthink it.】
Of course, he didn’t actually want Lin Xiaoyu to not overthink it. If she really didn’t take it to heart, all his stories would’ve been for nothing.
So he added, against his conscience: 【I just feel like I let down your teaching, feel a bit ashamed… If anything, I should be the one saying sorry…】
Sitting inside his bed’s curtains, feeling a bit guilty, he still couldn’t help but smile as he waited for Lin Xiaoyu’s response.
This naïve girl didn’t let him down. The messages she sent back were even more incoherent with sobs.
She was practically wailing, sending several voice messages in a row, not a single one forming a complete, clear sentence.
It was as if she were confessing before the grave of a departed loved one, unable to control her emotions—her tears and cries catching in her throat—yet still trying so hard to apologize sincerely.
Pei Xingyan had expected her to break down like this.
Having always borne her parents’ expectations but never able to meet them, Lin Xiaoyu’s stress and psychological trauma had long since reached their limits.
Now, she’d finally found someone whose expectations she could respond to, but this time, her vanity had ruined everything.
Of course she’d fall apart.
But Pei Xingyan hadn’t done all this just to crush her spirit.
Lin Xiaoyu paused for several minutes, trying hard to calm herself, finally squeezing out a complete sentence:
“Because, because… I actually don’t know that much, the things I sent you were all found online… I’m really sorry, it’s my fault you failed, it’s all my fault…”
Her voice was hoarse, you could hear her throat swelling just from the sound—she was desperately trying to hold herself together.
Pei Xingyan lowered his head and sent a few brief messages:
【Why would I blame you?】
【Everyone makes mistakes, it’s perfectly normal. Why blame yourself so much?】
【Don’t worry about it, we’re friends, right? Even if a friend makes a mistake, just laugh it off and move on!】
【I still have other questions I want to ask you~ (^▽^)】
He didn’t dwell on what happened before, nor did he try to comfort Lin Xiaoyu by saying the consequences weren’t serious.
All he did was tell her that he forgave her mistake, that she didn’t have to worry, that as her friend, he would accept her flaws.
For them, as long as they could turn the page, that was enough.
Lin Xiaoyu fell silent, as if her connection had dropped—she didn’t reply for a long time.
After a while, she finally sent a simple “Thank you.”
She wasn’t crying anymore, her voice was light and free, like a bird breaking free from its cage, soaring into the vast sky.
Pei Xingyan let out a quiet sigh of relief. He knew he hadn’t made a mistake with this move.
For a girl who fears mistakes and is terrified of doing wrong, no explanation or comfort could help—what she needed most was just a simple “It’s okay” after making a mistake.
That was a feeling she’d never known since she was born.
Pei Xingyan typed out the simple question he’d prepared in advance and pressed send.