The garden pavilion of the Lin family estate was bathed in the warm, golden light of the afternoon sun, but the atmosphere inside was freezing.
**Vera** sat on the stone bench, her posture stiff. Her hands were clutching a bank card—a card containing fifty thousand dollars she had scraped together by selling her jewelry. She was ready to hand it over to save her daughter from prison.
Sitting across from her was **Mr. Vane Sr.**, the father of the boy **Ren** had beaten up. He was a distinguished man, a renowned violinist in Moon City, and currently, he looked extremely uncomfortable.
**Madam Vivian**, the noblewoman from the Capital, sat nearby, sipping tea with an air of detached elegance. She was watching the scene with the eyes of a hawk, judging every movement.
"Mr. Vane," Vera began, her voice trembling with forced humility. "I am truly ashamed. My daughter, Ren... she has always been difficult. Unlike my younger daughter, **Faye**, who is about to pass her Grade 9 violin exam, Ren never took her lessons seriously. She wasted her talent and now she's causing trouble for your family. I apologize on her behalf."
Vera paused, waiting for Mr. Vane to lash out, to demand justice for his son. She pushed the bank card forward across the stone table. "This is a token of our apology. We hope you can forgive her ignorance."
Mr. Vane stared at the card. Then he looked at Vera. His expression wasn't angry; it was bewildered.
"Mrs. Lin," Mr. Vane said, his voice sharp. "What are you talking about?"
Vera blinked. "I... I'm apologizing for Ren's lack of discipline and her poor violin skills..."
"Poor violin skills?" Mr. Vane interrupted her, his tone rising in disbelief. He looked at Vera as if she had just claimed the earth was flat. "Who told you Ren couldn't play the violin?"
Vera was stunned. "Well, she never practices, and she quit your class years ago..."
"Mrs. Lin," Mr. Vane put his teacup down with a heavy thud. "Ren was not just a student. She was my prodigy. Three years ago, before she left my class, her skill level was already **professional**. She didn't quit because she couldn't keep up; she quit because I had nothing left to teach her."
The silence in the pavilion was deafening. The wind rustled the leaves, sounding like mocking whispers.
Vera's mouth opened, but no sound came out. Professional level? Ren? The girl who spent her days sleeping and fighting? Faye, the pride of the Lin family, was struggling to reach Grade 9, while Ren had surpassed her teacher three years ago?
"And as for this," Mr. Vane pushed the bank card back toward Vera and pulled a check from his own pocket. He placed it on the table.
"This is a cashier's check for **one million dollars**," Mr. Vane said solemnly.
Vera stared at the zeros on the check. Her brain stopped working. "Compensation... from you?"
"Yes," Mr. Vane said, his face full of guilt. "My son, that idiot Vane, injured Ren's hand. For a violinist of her caliber, her hands are her life. This money is a gesture of apology from my family. We hope she doesn't press charges against us, and we pray that her hand recovers fully."
Mr. Vane stood up, bowed slightly to the stunned women, and walked away.
Vera sat frozen. The bank card in her hand felt like a burning coal. She had been ready to beg for forgiveness, to pay for her daughter's freedom. Instead, the victim's father had come to pay tribute to her daughter's genius.
"One million..." Vera whispered, her voice shaking. "He paid one million for a scratch on her hand?"
Madam Vivian put down her tea. She looked at Vera with a gaze that was no longer polite; it was cold and penetrating.
"Vera," Madam Vivian said slowly. "You told me your eldest daughter was a useless delinquent. Yet, the Principal drives her home, and a music master calls her a genius. It seems you don't know your own daughter at all."
Vera flushed crimson, shame washing over her like a tidal wave.
Hidden behind a pillar, **Faye** stood clutching her music books. She had heard everything. Her face was pale, her lips pressed into a thin line. She looked down at her own hands—the hands she practiced with for hours every day just to earn a nod of approval. And Ren? Ren was a "professional" without even trying.
Jealousy, dark and ugly, coiled in Faye's stomach like a snake.
***
That evening, the atmosphere in Class 9 was restless. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead as students chattered during the evening self-study session.
Ren sat in the back row, her chair tipped back against the wall. She looked bored. Her right hand was wrapped in fresh gauze, resting on the desk. With her left hand, she pulled a black notebook out of her bag and tossed it onto **Lily's** desk.
"Here," Ren said, popping a lollipop into her mouth.
Lily looked up, surprised. "What's this?"
"Physics notes," Ren mumbled around the candy. "Someone gave it to me. I don't need it. You take it."
Lily opened the notebook. Her eyes widened. The handwriting inside was bold, elegant, and powerful—clearly written by a man. But it wasn't just the handwriting; the content was incredible. It broke down complex theories into simple, brilliant logic.
"Ren!" Lily gasped. "This is amazing! Where did you get this? It's like a cheat code for the exams!"
**Joey**, the class clown and resident rich kid, leaned over from the next desk. He snatched the notebook from Lily's hands.
"Let me see," Joey grinned. "Physics notes? Or love letters?"
He flipped through the pages. "Whoa. This handwriting is intense. Who gave this to you, Ren? Your secret boyfriend?"
Ren kicked his chair. "Give it back. It's from a neighbor."
"A neighbor?" Joey wiggled his eyebrows. "Must be a handsome neighbor to write notes like this for you."
Ren rolled her eyes, snatching the book back and giving it to Lily. "Read it. It'll help you pass."
She didn't mention that the "neighbor" was **Alpha Juan**, and the notes were probably worth more than the school itself. To her, it was just homework she was too lazy to do.
***
When the bell rang for the end of the day, Ren didn't return to the dormitory with Lily.
"I have to pick something up," Ren said, slinging her backpack over one shoulder. "I'll be back later."
She walked out of the school gates and turned down a quiet street.
Unbeknownst to her, a shadow detached itself from the school entrance. **Faye** was following her.
Faye's heart was pounding. She couldn't shake the humiliation from the afternoon. She needed to know Ren's secret. How did Ren get out of jail? Who was backing her? Why was she so special?
Ren turned into a dimly lit alleyway near the residential district. Faye hid behind a telephone pole, peeking out.
At the end of the alley, a black luxury car was waiting. It was a Mercedes-Benz, sleek and expensive. Standing beside the car was a middle-aged man in a grey suit. He looked dignified, with graying hair and a slight paunch—clearly a man of wealth and status, but definitely old enough to be Ren's father.
Faye watched as Ren walked up to the man. Her posture was relaxed, familiar.
"**Mayor Feng**," Ren sighed, leaning against the car door. "I told you, you didn't have to come."
The man smiled—a warm, indulgent smile. He held up a thermal food container. "Ren, you need to eat. This is pig trotter soup. It's full of collagen. Good for your hand."
"I'm not an invalid," Ren complained, but she took the container.
"Just drink it," the man said, patting her shoulder affectionately. "Or I'll tell your grandmother you aren't taking care of yourself."
From Faye's perspective, hidden in the shadows, she couldn't hear the dialogue clearly. All she saw was Ren meeting a wealthy older man in a dark alley. She saw the expensive car. She saw the man giving Ren gifts. She saw the intimacy.
A twisted smile formed on Faye's lips.
"So that's it," Faye whispered to herself, pulling out her phone. She snapped a few grainy photos of the scene. "That's your secret. A Sugar Daddy."
It all made sense to her now. The Principal's favor, the police dropping the charges, the arrogance. It wasn't because Ren was special. It was because she had sold herself to a powerful old man.
Faye looked at the photo on her screen. It was blurry, but the implication was clear.
"Let's see how professional you look when everyone sees this," Faye hissed, turning and disappearing into the night.
***
Ren returned to the dorm room twenty minutes later, carrying the heavy thermal container.
"What's that?" Lily asked, looking up from her books.
"Soup," Ren said, placing it on the desk. She opened the lid, and the rich aroma of herbs and meat filled the small room.
"Wow, it smells expensive," Lily teased. "Did your 'neighbor' send this too?"
"An annoying elder," Ren corrected, sitting down and taking a sip. It was actually delicious. Mayor Feng might be the mayor of the city, but his family cook knew how to make soup.
"By the way, Ren," Lily said, turning her chair around. "We need to talk about the Speech Contest."
Ren groaned. "I told you, I'm not doing it."
"Please!" Lily clasped her hands together. "Class 9 is at the bottom of the rankings. We need bonus points. The Speech Contest awards points for 'Overall Impression'. You are the school beauty! If you just stand there and read a script, we get 5 points automatically!"
Ren paused, her spoon hovering halfway to her mouth. "So... I just have to stand there? I don't have to write anything?"
"Nope! We'll write the script for you!" Lily promised. "You just have to be your beautiful, cool self."
Ren considered it. 5 points for the class meant less nagging from the teacher. Less nagging meant more sleep.
"Fine," Ren said, drinking the soup. "I'll be the vase."
She didn't know that a storm of rumors was brewing. While she was drinking soup and planning to sleep, Faye was already plotting how to destroy her reputation with a single photo.
**[Chapter 28 End]**