Transmigrating Into A Sadistic Novel And Becoming A Master Of Painting Rosy Pictures - Chapter 98

“Come on, what are you waiting for?”

Zhang Zhizhi called out to Bian Yingning, who was standing hesitantly at the entrance to the Culinary Arts Department’s lounge, seemingly reluctant to enter as if there were some kind of lurking danger inside.

Bian Yingning, hands in her pockets, appeared outwardly calm, but she simply didn’t want to go in.

Although she was mentally preparing herself, her feet wouldn’t move. She wished she had erased her memories; now, she felt guilty and couldn’t act naturally.

Was the world trying to get her? Why was Shang Qinghui her partner in this competition?

“I…” Bian Yingning was considering withdrawing from the competition.

Zhang Zhizhi, having known Bian Yingning for a long time, looked at her suspiciously, sensing a hint of wanting to escape.

“What’s wrong?”

Zhang Zhizhi came over and grabbed Bian Yingning’s hand, trying to pull her inside.

“Wait, give me a moment!”

It was too sudden; Bian Yingning wasn’t mentally prepared and wanted to refuse, but Zhang Zhizhi didn’t want her to back out.

So, one started pulling, the other resisted with all her might. They were locked in a stalemate, like a playful dog refusing to go home when its owner tries to pull it back.

As they struggled, a calm, condescending voice came from behind:

“You’re Bian Yingning?”

Both stopped and turned around.

Shang Qinghui, hands in her pockets, wore a loose knit hat, her face… rounder. But her expression was serious, with a hint of haughty pride; she only glanced at Bian Yingning from the corner of her eye.

Bian Yingning quickly straightened up, creating some distance from Zhang Zhizhi, and softly responded, only glancing at Shang Qinghui’s face before looking away.

Her silence surprised Shang Qinghui, who had planned to put her down a peg. She could only awkwardly add, “…What a coincidence.”

“I’m Shang Qinghui,” she said, looking at Zhang Zhizhi.

Zhang Zhizhi looked at Bian Yingning, then at Shang Qinghui. They were facing each other, a few steps apart, seemingly introducing themselves, yet avoiding eye contact.

The atmosphere was awkward. Did they have a feud?

“Shall we go inside?” Zhang Zhizhi suggested.

“Mm-hmm.”

“Okay.”

…

Entering the lounge, they saw several people already there—about ten people, including some instructors and upperclassmen helping out. It wasn’t deserted.

“Culinary Arts students whose names were called, stand to the left.”

An upperclassman started calling names, introducing the partners.

After the culinary students and translators were paired, the instructor came on stage to explain the rules and procedures. Bian Yingning and Shang Qinghui stood side-by-side, watching the instructor, without speaking. Zhang Zhizhi, behind them, couldn’t help but notice the two.

Silence, stillness, and attentiveness filled the air between them. Could they really cooperate?

Shang Qinghui had already seen the procedures and didn’t plan to listen attentively; her mind wandered.

How could she have seen the procedures?

She had managed to get herself paired with Bian Yingning; seeing the procedures was easy.

Yes, being paired with Bian Yingning wasn’t accidental.

Thinking of her plan, Shang Qinghui finally smiled.

Bian Yingning seemed to notice something, rubbing her arms.

Why did it suddenly feel colder?

After the meeting, they were taken to the main hall, where several French exchange students were also present, each with a Haida University student as a translator. An instructor explained the competition procedures; Bian Yingning glanced around.

Meng Weixin was there, and her gaze hadn’t left Bian Yingning and Shang Qinghui since she saw them standing together.

Unexpectedly, Ji Xiaoxue was also there.

Was this event that important for extra credit?

…

Finally, the meeting ended. Bian Yingning heard Zhang Zhizhi chatting with her partner, saying things like relying on her partner.

Bian Yingning, acting professionally, said to Shang Qinghui, “I’ll rely on you for next week’s competition.”

Shang Qinghui nodded calmly, but a strange look flashed in her eyes.

“Bian Yingning.” As everyone started leaving, Bian Yingning lagged behind; Meng Weixin called out to her.

Bian Yingning stopped; Shang Qinghui slowed down.

“What?” Bian Yingning asked.

“Do you think you can win?” Meng Weixin approached, her face full of challenge.

“I don’t know about the group stage, but if it’s just the two of us, I’ll win,” Bian Yingning said calmly, provoking Meng Weixin.

“So confident,” Meng Weixin said, “Don’t be surprised if you’re proven wrong.”

Bian Yingning smiled slightly, “You’ve lost to me before.”

She left, avoiding further childish banter.

“You!” Meng Weixin’s face turned green with anger.

Shang Qinghui, who had overheard, unconsciously pouted.

She was confident. Confident enough to make people want to punch her.

Bian Yingning seemed to have something else to do; she left quickly, disappearing from sight.

The bodyguards waiting for Shang Qinghui saw Bian Yingning pass by, exchanging glances.

Shang Qinghui glanced at them, coldly humming in her heart. She was determined to put her plan into action.

…

On the weekend, Hua Cancan wanted to go drinking with Bian Yingning.

Bian Yingning refused, “I’m getting old; I can’t handle the cold.”

Hua Cancan: “…”

“Don’t blame me. Meng Weixin is having a party tonight; many people are going. Are you sure you don’t want to join?”

Bian Yingning refused, “No.”

Meng Weixin was childish; she wasn’t. Meng Weixin’s party was to gather people. But Bian Yingning knew that if she was strong enough, people would come to her.

So, while they were partying, Bian Yingning continued her writing. After admiring her almost-finished work, she opened her phone to check for messages.

Hua Cancan had sent her a video half an hour ago, showing them having fun, trying to lure her over.

Bian Yingning closed it, planning to review company documents, then paused, picking up her phone again.

After watching it several times, she paused the seven-second video. She zoomed in.

In a dark corner of the private room, Meng Weixin was talking to someone familiar; they were close, and Meng Weixin was offering the person a drink.

Bian Yingning’s face darkened; she recognized the person partially hidden by Meng Weixin.

…

Shang Qinghui wasn’t lucky that night; she lost several rounds of dice. After several drinks, she felt dizzy and needed to use the restroom.

She got up, her steps unsteady. Someone asked where she was going; she said the restroom.

Two bodyguards were waiting outside; seeing her, they reached out to help.

Having been watched like a prisoner, Shang Qinghui was annoyed.

She pushed them away, “Don’t touch me! I’m going to the restroom!”

Seeing her angry expression, the bodyguards knew she was drunk and followed her, waiting outside the restroom.

The restroom was empty. After sitting on the toilet for a while, Shang Qinghui felt even dizzier.

Her alcohol tolerance wasn’t good; she hadn’t drunk in a while, and the drinks were strong.

She got up to wash her hands. Looking in the mirror, she thought she was hallucinating.

Bian Yingning was behind her.

Was it a ghost?

Bian Yingning came out of another stall, seemingly not noticing her, washing her hands and fixing her hair. Then, she turned to leave.

Shang Qinghui, her mind muddled, narrowed her eyes, staring at Bian Yingning.

As Bian Yingning was about to leave, she shouted, “Stop!”

Bian Yingning paused, turning slightly. “What?”

Hearing her speak, Shang Qinghui glared at her and stepped forward, as if to fight.

But her steps were unsteady; the floor was slippery. As she approached Bian Yingning, she slipped and fell into a warm embrace with a cool scent.

Shang Qinghui grabbed Bian Yingning’s clothes, steadying herself. Her eyes were half-closed.

Even though Bian Yingning’s face was close, her gaze was unfocused.

“Do we have a feud?” Shang Qinghui asked, her breath heavy with alcohol.

Bian Yingning couldn’t imagine how much she’d drunk.

“Are you feeling better? You’re already drinking.”

“I asked you, do we have a feud?!” Not getting an answer, Shang Qinghui shouted.

She thought she looked cool, fierce, and domineering, but Bian Yingning saw a wobbly, clawing kitten in her arms.

Her eyes were hazy, her face flushed; she was trying to appear fierce.

Bian Yingning held her waist to prevent her from falling; Shang Qinghui was clinging to her; their bodies were close, their breaths mingling.

Shang Qinghui’s round face always made Bian Yingning’s heart flutter.

Her cheeks were chubby and soft, like a peeled egg.

Her almond eyes were round and bright.

She pouted whether angry or not.

Bian Yingning always wanted to bite her.