As evening approached, the sunset dyed the western sky a warm orange-red, while the other side of the sky was a light, clear blue. It was foreseeable that soon enough, the sky would darken.
At that moment, the conspicuous pink-purple Maybach was driving steadily on the way home.
Looking at Meng Wange, who was resting with her eyes closed beside her, cosplaying as a stone statue, Su Wanli gently furrowed her brows.
The answer had already been decided.
With her approval, Cinderella naturally became the only option. Once Meng Wange and the nominal playwright Xiao Fen adjusted the script together tomorrow, they could then grab some classmates to start rehearsals.
…So, was this really just a coincidence?
Su Wanli also began to hug her arms and close her eyes, imitating Meng Wange.
In reality, her mind kept replaying the scene that had happened in the library.
There were so many books in the library, so many stories, so many choices. Yet Meng Wange had picked the exact same one as her…
Her own reason for choosing Cinderella was solid enough—it was a classic romantic story with a gap in status, making it very suitable for her to bring up.
But what about Meng Wange?
Why did she choose it too?
There were plenty of classic stories. Given Meng Wange’s cautious and careful personality, she should have just placed the fairy tale book on the table and suggested everyone pick from the many stories, rather than singling out this one.
Just as she herself wanted to put on a simple, pure story, there must also be a reason that made Meng Wange firmly choose this.
…Cinderella, Cinderella…
So, which role in the story would Meng Wange identify with?
The lofty prince who freely pursues the one his heart desires?
Or, considering her past experiences, she must be the bullied Cinderella who eventually gains happiness?
That wouldn’t be bad—at least in the story, she could play the prince who pulls Meng Wange out of the mire and gives her happiness. Even if in reality, it would most likely be the complete opposite…
Su Wanli secretly cracked open one eye and looked at Meng Wange, who was sitting beside her.
She had finished her rest and was now quietly looking out the window. The light of the sunset cast a warm glow on her delicate profile, making her appear soft and dreamlike.
That’s right. Meng Wange was right here beside her now.
If there was something she wanted to ask, she could just ask her directly, couldn’t she?
Su Wanli took a deep breath, then coughed lightly and said in a casual tone—
“Hey, Meng Wange.”
“Yes, I’m here. What is it, Miss Su?”
“Nothing, I just suddenly thought of something. Why did you choose Cinderella as our script?”
Su Wanli yawned boredly and cupped her cheek in her palm.
“There are so many similar fairy tales, aren’t there? You specifically picked this one. Is there no special reason?”
“…A special reason? There is one, but it’s not worth calling it ‘special.’ ”
Hearing this, Meng Wange smiled lightly at Su Wanli, then opened the fairy tale collection she had borrowed from the library.
“The reason I chose it is just because I feel this story is a little bit like our current lives.”
“…Like?”
Su Wanli blinked in confusion, looking at the illustration of Cinderella and the prince dancing in the palace.
Did Meng Wange mean that she and her were like the characters in Cinderella?
There was no real dispute that Meng Wange was like Cinderella, but what part of her usual behavior made Meng Wange think she was like the prince in the story?
How could that be?
From both her character and her actions, she had nothing in common with a prince. At most, she was about as rich as one. That was not even a good flattery…
…Ah, could it be that in Meng Wange’s mind, her role wasn’t the prince, but the nasty stepsister who constantly bullied Cinderella!?
That’s right!
One was the villainous eldest young lady, the other was a poor orphan with a pitiful background—wasn’t that just the dynamic between the wicked stepsister and Cinderella?
Damn it. Was Meng Wange hinting that she had been bullying her all along?
Even though it was true, she had done it under the system’s compulsion. Besides, she had been trying hard to lower the difficulty of the plot, hadn’t she!?
Before Su Wanli could make an angry face at Meng Wange, the latter once again turned her gaze to the vast sky outside the window.
“A Cinderella who once lived in the dust finally gets the only chance in her life.”
“She gives it her all, uses every means, tries everything to get close to the palace of her dreams, attempting to fulfill her wish.”
“By some stroke of luck, she smoothly obtains her own magic: a gorgeous dress, a huge pumpkin carriage. She can freely attend the ball she’s always dreamed of, gaining unprecedented attention.”
For some reason, Meng Wange’s voice was very soft, carrying an elusive tone.
“But Cinderella knows better than anyone that all of this is only temporary.”
“The midnight bell will always ring. The magic will disappear. The gorgeous dress will turn back to rags, the carriage back to a pumpkin. She will still have to return to her original world—until a certain prince saves her from the dust.”
Even though it was a romantic fairy tale meant for children, in Meng Wange’s mouth, it seemed to take on a different meaning, making Su Wanli’s mood feel somewhat oppressed.
“…So, do you like this story? You chose it because you think it’s similar to your own experience?”
“No, I don’t like this story.”
Meng Wange shook her head gently, then turned and smiled at Su Wanli’s eyes.
“That’s why I want to use my own pen to turn it into the way I want it to be.”
That’s right.
The magic that would fail, the carriage that would turn back into a pumpkin—none of that was what she wanted.
As she wrote something in her diary, Meng Wange silently brushed the stray hair by her ear and tucked it behind it.
This was a risky move.
No, the moves she had been making for a long time had always been risky.
But this one was a risky move taken for herself.
…So think carefully, ponder carefully, and pour everything you have into this script, Meng Wange.
She carelessly tossed her diary into a drawer, then took out a new notebook and seriously wrote down the name of the script.