Chapter Sixty-Nine: I’ll Fight You with Everything I Have

“Does everyone still remember the Blood-dripping Cave where Biyu and Xiao Fan were once trapped? It was there that Biyu obtained the Bell of Harmony. During the upheaval at Qingyun, under the Immortal Execution Sword, Biyu was doomed to die, but at the last moment, the Bell forcibly drew out one of her souls, keeping it safe within, so her body remained intact. As long as the lost art of soul restoration can be found, there is still hope for her resurrection. Also, let us pray for the classmate who was momentarily confused and ended up in the hospital—may he pull through. Let’s light candles for him…”

The fan who attempted suicide over Biyu’s fate was a high school student, found by his family and sent to the hospital. However, due to massive blood loss, he was still in critical condition and remained unconscious.

Even if it meant bending the truth, Su Tong had to resolve the public relations crisis first.

Some could not endure the blow because it had come too fiercely.

He needed to give the fans a glimmer of hope, let them see a light at the end of the tunnel.

“Haha, you should have said so earlier. That way, you’d still be our good brother.”

“Aww, so our Biyu will be resurrected in the future.”

“Good brother, always thinking of the fans—thumbs up.”

“I give you thirty-two thumbs up, brother.”

“Why do people call him ‘brother’ anyway? Is there a story behind it?”

“You don’t know? You must be new. Let me explain—never mind, with your intelligence, it would be hard to make you understand.”

“Come on, don’t look down on me. With your intelligence, I doubt you could explain it clearly.”

“Stop squabbling. One of our own from the Brotherhood is still in the hospital, unconscious. Let’s listen to Brother and pray for him. Candles, everyone…”

“Candles…”

“Candles…”

…

With this single post, Su Tong quickly shifted the public mood. Everyone was relieved and happy once more—such is the power of an idol.

In truth, Biyu’s incident was not the only thing troubling Su Tong these past days—there was something else as well.

No one knew when it started, but rumors began circulating in the class that Su Tong had become the kept man of a rich woman.

His roommates all knew and were very interested—not the least bit ashamed, but rather proud.

After all, to be kept by a wealthy woman was a skill, and a rare one at that.

In Su Tong’s dormitory—

“Sixth, is she an older rich woman or a young heiress? Come on, spill it,” the big guy grinned mischievously. When he smiled, his eyes narrowed to slits, shining with a wicked glint.

“Yeah, Sixth, tell us. How much allowance does she give you a month? Is it tens of thousands?” asked the eldest, a chubby fellow whose bed was across from Su Tong’s.

“Eldest, do you really think Su Tong is worth that little? You underestimate him. It’s at least a hundred thousand a month. But watch your health, man. Don’t come back crying after a month, all worn out,” joked the third, a handsome lad—at least among the dorm mates. Compared to Su Tong, he stood no chance, which made him a bit jealous. His jest carried a hint of envy.

Every time Su Tong returned to the dorm lately, these were the topics they quizzed him about. This time, he simply laughed and said, “Well, since things have come to this, I might as well tell the truth. Yes, she’s a young heiress, about six or seven years older than me.”

“Only six or seven?”

“So, she’s what, twenty-four or twenty-five?”

“Good grief, what is the world coming to? Why is she so young? Why not fifty or sixty? Why did I have to know, and why does it have to happen right here in my dorm?”

They all seethed with envy, almost wishing they could tear Su Tong apart and take his place.

“She’s very beautiful, and she drives a BMW 7 Series,” Su Tong continued.

“Wait—how much does a BMW 7 Series cost?” someone asked.

“A bit over two million,” Su Tong replied.

Their eyes widened in shock—a young heiress driving a car worth over two million yuan was the real deal.

All of them came from ordinary backgrounds; even a modest car was a hard-won achievement for their families.

Only Shao Sheng seemed indifferent, absorbed in his phone, uninterested in the gossip.

Su Tong guessed that perhaps a classmate had seen Sister Yaya waiting for him by the west gate, and caught the moment he got into her car.

“She’s just six or seven years older—how is that being kept? That’s a girlfriend! Sigh, my life is shrouded in darkness,” the big guy wailed.

“Oh, come on. At least you have Pingping at home. The rest of us are still single,” the fifth roommate moaned from his bed, genuinely miserable.

As the end of the freshman military training drew near, the school officially began selecting performances recommended by each department.

“Su Tong, come to the auditorium at seven tonight for the program audition. Reply when you get this.” During class that afternoon, Su Tong received a text from Tang Yan, the Culture and Arts Secretary of the student union.

“Got it. By the way, you’re so stingy. A call costs ten cents a minute, a text costs ten cents too. You could’ve just called—it would’ve taken seconds. Now I have to waste a text to reply.”

“Hehe, my texts are covered by my monthly plan—they’re free,” Tang Yan replied.

“Really? Mine too,” Su Tong shot back.

Tang Yan: “…”

After a brief silence, she messaged again, “Fine, I’ll out-text you!”

“Are you challenging me to a texting duel?” Su Tong replied.

Tang Yan: “Hehe, I never use up my monthly quota anyway.”

“Is that so? Well, same here,” Su Tong sent.

On the other side, Tang Yan was fuming—Su Tong was so infuriating!

“Do your best tonight. If you get cut from the program, just you wait!” Tang Yan threatened.

“Are you doubting your own taste?” Su Tong replied, since Tang Yan herself had approved the business school’s entry.

Tang Yan was flustered. “My taste is impeccable, thank you very much.”

“Then are you starting to doubt life itself?” Su Tong teased.

“…”

Tang Yan could never win an argument against Su Tong, but she refused to back down. Back and forth they sparred all afternoon, until she was almost in tears.

“Su Tong, I’ll never forgive you!”

“You say that as if we were ever on good terms.”

“I hate you, Su Tong!”

“You’re being unreasonable.”

“How am I being unreasonable?”

“How are you not being unreasonable?”

Su Tong waited for a reply, but none came. Just as class was ending and he was about to leave, his phone rang.

“Su Tong, what’s wrong with you? You made Tang Yan cry in class! Apologize to her right now,” scolded Wang Yuanyuan, Tang Yan’s classmate and fellow member of the arts committee.

“Oh, so you’re in class too, Senior? I thought I was the only bad student playing with my phone,” Su Tong laughed.

That laugh nearly drove Wang Yuanyuan mad. Dragging others down with him—what a scoundrel!

“Just apologize to Tang Yan—she’s still crying. I’m putting you on speaker, say something to her.”

Su Tong asked, “Tang Yan, did you just realize you’ve used up your texting quota and lost a few bucks, so now you’re crying?”

Tang Yan, furious and humiliated, had indeed exceeded her texting limit.

“Yuanyuan, do you still have texts left in your package? I want to go another round with him!”