Transmigrating Into A Sadistic Novel And Becoming A Master Of Painting Rosy Pictures - Chapter 93

The video was clearly secretly recorded; it wasn’t a serious recording. The person filming just held up their phone to get a glimpse of the people in the distance before putting it away. The whole thing lasted only three or four seconds.

The footage was shaky, so only those familiar with the people involved could recognize them.

Shang Qinghui, with a serious expression, watched the video several times, as if studying a profound human mystery, but couldn’t clearly see the face of the woman in the fluffy coat.

The other photos only showed a vague profile. The photos were already zoomed in; enlarging them further made them blurry and distorted.

She could tell the person was pretty, but couldn’t see clearly.

Shang Qinghui exited the group chat.

The images were unclear, and she didn’t recognize anyone, so she didn’t want to waste time.

She continued replying to other messages.

…

The snow seemed endless, falling intermittently for several days. Roads started to ice over; sanitation workers were out early clearing snow.

Even so, people’s commutes were affected.

Especially for Bian Yingning, who lived far from school. Even leaving early, she was still late.

“Here!”

As Bian Yingning reached the classroom, Zhang Zhizhi, who had already taken a seat, raised her hand and quietly called out.

It was a large lecture for the Hospitality Management department; several classes were combined, making it crowded, and the teacher couldn’t control everyone.

Bian Yingning put away her umbrella, stamped her feet to remove snow from her shoes, and entered.

“Isn’t it freezing outside?”

As soon as Bian Yingning sat down, Zhang Zhizhi leaned over, handing her a hot water bottle.

Bian Yingning accepted it, warming her hands.

She wore a black short down jacket, her collar turned up, half her face buried inside. She also wore gray earmuffs, looking rounder, less sharp than usual.

“It’s freezing.”

Initially, the snow was exciting; it was fun to play in and the scenery was beautiful. But after a couple of days, the cold became unbearable; everything required courage.

Indoors was fine, but going out was a hassle.

“Well, we’re lucky. I heard the Foreign Languages and Finance departments have morning readings. They come early every day. That’s impressive.” Zhang Zhizhi felt content.

Morning readings were normal for the Foreign Languages department; the Finance department also had them because of the high foreign language requirements.

Hearing about the Finance department, Bian Yingning paused, seemingly lost in thought before absentmindedly flipping through her book.

Zhang Zhizhi noticed, “You’re on page 109.”

Bian Yingning looked down; her book was still open to page thirty-something.

“So fast…” she murmured.

“Yes, finals are in two or three weeks… many colleges are preparing for their events.

This week is the Foreign Languages department’s French Culture Week. They invited a French fashion designer for a design showcase.

There will be a fashion show; they’re still accepting applications. Interested people can be models.”

Zhang Zhizhi chatted with Bian Yingning, who hadn’t been to school much lately.

“What’s the point?” Bian Yingning was unenthusiastic.

“Extracurricular points.”

…

Extracurricular points were a factor in scholarship evaluations. Many students with good grades didn’t get scholarships because they didn’t participate in enough activities.

“I think there’s a cooking competition,” Bian Yingning asked. She’d learned about it from her cooking teacher.

“Yes, it’s related to the French Culture Week. They invited a French chef, pastry chef, etc. They want to compete with us.”

Zhang Zhizhi and Bian Yingning both majored in Hospitality Management and minored in Culinary Arts.

Bian Yingning did it for her family business; Zhang Zhizhi wanted to gain skills.

“These foreigners are here for exchange, but secretly, they’re here to challenge us,” Zhang Zhizhi said angrily.

“They know our school is business-focused, yet they do this.

Last year, students from the US complained online about us being nothing special, despite being in the top ten domestically.

It’s ridiculous. Why don’t they compete in simulated trading?”

Bian Yingning listened quietly, a slight smile on her lips.

Zhang Zhizhi realized something, “You want to participate in the French food and pastry competition?”

“If we don’t, who will? We can’t ask the Foreign Languages department,” Bian Yingning didn’t hide it; the teacher probably wanted her to participate.

That’s true.

“Shall we go check it out after class?” Zhang Zhizhi suggested.

“The French things are at the International Exchange Center; they have French pastries and food.”

“Let’s go.” Bian Yingning returned the hot water bottle and started listening to the lecture.

Know your enemy, know yourself, and you can win every battle.

…

After class, they went to the International Exchange Center, a high-end building with gleaming glass.

It was after class; many students came to see the event.

Entering, they saw a food corridor with various French pastries, foie gras, steak, and wine sold by the glass.

Foreigners in white hats were making food behind glass windows; students watched and took photos and videos.

The aroma of bread filled the air.

Zhang Zhizhi and Bian Yingning pushed to the front to look at the pastries.

Someone noticed Bian Yingning and made space for them.

A half-person-wide space formed around Bian Yingning; no one dared to push her.

Bian Yingning, expressionless, surveyed the goods, her earmuffs hanging around her neck, her face mostly covered.

“It’s Bian Yingning!”

“Where?”

“There, by the counter, in black.”

Bian Yingning was famous at school, especially now, as a symbol of youth and success. Many feared and admired her.

“Wow, she’s pretty.”

“But she’s cold and distant.”

“Hmph, if I were rich and powerful, I’d be aloof too.”

People whispered.

Zhang Zhizhi managed to get two Napoleon pastries, excitedly showing them to Bian Yingning,

“Bian Yingning! Look, Napoleon pastries! I got two!”

Bian Yingning examined one, “It’s just mille-feuille. Why the rush?”

“You’re not romantic,” Zhang Zhizhi was still happy about getting two. She was annoyed by Bian Yingning’s comment and lightly patted her arm.

To others, it looked like flirting.

“True,” Bian Yingning nodded, “I don’t understand romance.”

“Let’s try cream puffs.”

“Cream puffs?” Zhang Zhizhi looked around, “I don’t see any.”

“They’re right in front of you.”

Zhang Zhizhi looked down; there were only price tags, one for French cream puffs and éclairs.

“But where are the puffs?”

“Sold out. They’re popular.”

French cream puffs were larger than regular ones; the filling burst in your mouth. They were far better than the dry Napoleon pastries.

“I didn’t get any!” Zhang Zhizhi’s happiness faded.

“Let’s go to the other side,” Bian Yingning said, pointing.

“Okay.” They left the crowd and headed towards the Western food section.

A few steps later, Bian Yingning heard someone call her name, pausing and turning around.

She didn’t see who called but bumped into someone passing by.

They stumbled, caught by someone before falling. Bian Yingning’s Napoleon pastry and the other person’s pastries fell to the ground.

Bian Yingning didn’t pick them up; she stared at the person rubbing their arm.

A dark brown, Hong Kong-style cotton jacket, with white fleece visible at the collar. The cool outfit, combined with her round face, lost some of its coolness.

Her hair was in a bun; a few strands of bangs fell down. Her cheeks were flushed from the warmth, like a porcelain doll.

“Qinghui, are you okay?” Wang Yu, who was waiting for Shang Qinghui, pushed through the crowd, supporting Shang Qinghui and asking.

She had just been discharged; she shouldn’t get injured again.

Wang Yu’s words brought Bian Yingning back to reality. She bit her lip, calming her trembling body.

Bian Yingning knelt to pick up the pastries; Zhang Zhizhi followed suit.