Su Xingshu's Fan Club

Bai Yan couldn't help but watch the girl in front of him. Working in her element, she seemed like a completely different person.

She tilted her head slightly, her neck arching in a graceful curve, her hair casually pinned back—a far cry from the style she'd worn at the swimming pool that morning. She wore the school uniform like any student, but her confidence gave her the allure of a seasoned professional.

"Got a small stand?" Fu Liangxia turned around.

Bai Yan rummaged through a box of odds and ends and produced a small crystal cylinder.

Their hands touched for only a moment, their fingers unavoidably brushing, since the cylinder was so small.

The cylinder in his palm was hard and smooth, like every design he'd ever sketched.

But Fu Liangxia's hand was slender and soft.

Just for a second, Bai Yan pulled his hand away.

Only the final step remained in Fu Liangxia's work. She carefully placed the cylinder under the collar clip and adjusted its position.

"How does it look?" She stepped back two paces, admiring her handiwork.

Bai Yan held the silver bracelet in his hand for a long time without answering.

At length, he spoke, a subtle note of appreciation in his voice: "Fascinating."

He seemed to genuinely admire how the studio—which had been transformed by her slight adjustments—looked, even the discarded designs on the wall appearing much more agreeable.

Yet Fu Liangxia never heard the sound of Affinity Points rising.

More empty pleasantries.

In truth, Bai Yan wasn't entirely unmoved. He did appreciate the 'work' before him. Every piece had been arranged in just the right position, highlighting the strengths of each design.

But a failed design was still a failed design. Even if you concealed its flaws, those traits remained.

Besides, Bai Yan wasn't short on money or marketing talent. If he really wanted, he could find far more professional help.

That Fu Liangxia could master such skill at her age was certainly impressive, but that was all it was.

What he needed was a model who could spark inspiration, someone who could help him create a flawless design—not a marketer who could polish a mediocre piece to passing grade.

"Try this one," Bai Yan said, having finished voicing his appreciation, and moved to hand her the silver bracelet when he suddenly heard a click.

Looking up, the girl had switched on the wall light. A blue gradient halo spilled across the wall, and she snapped a picture of it.

Her pale fingers held the phone, and the image on the screen was as polished as any Instagram-worthy shot. She asked, "Have you ever thought about moving your salon elsewhere?"

Bai Yan didn't understand what she meant.

That she knew about the salon said she had some knowledge of him, which meant she knew his purpose for holding it was to raise his profile, as a form of hunger marketing.

Where the salon was held, or how it was designed, hardly mattered.

"Not that kind of exclusive salon, but something like those trendy photo-spot locations," Fu Liangxia explained, noticing his confusion.

"I heard you went to Europe looking for inspiration."

At Saintland, everyone knew that. Bai Yan hummed in acknowledgment, curious what she was really getting at.

"Then this salon will help you," Fu Liangxia said, holding his gaze. She casually picked up the tie clip she'd placed earlier.

Instead of pinning it to her school tie, she raised her hand and clipped the pale blue bar into her thick hair.

With two fingers, she slid the elastic band out, and her hair spilled down like a waterfall. The tie clip, which had seemed merely pretty before, now radiated a different kind of brilliance in her hair.

Fu Liangxia looked up at him, and even the design wall behind her seemed to shine: "So, any ideas?"

Bai Yan was momentarily stunned.

"I don't understand design or art, but I know that before a product hits the market, it needs constant feedback from users until it's polished to perfection." She removed the tie clip, took the silver bracelet from his hand, and slipped it onto her empty wrist. "You said you've tried every famous model in the country and nothing clicked. What if you tried someone less than perfect?"

And those imperfect people were exactly the target consumers.

"What about this 'trendy photo-spot' idea?" Bai Yan neither approved nor disapproved.

"It's about saving time." Fu Liangxia stated it as if it were obvious. "Young Master Bai is a busy man, so you can't watch everyone try things one by one. But if it's a photo booth, it's different. People follow the crowd. If they see others posting try-on photos on social media, they'll want to do it too."

"You'd just need to arrange for a few celebrities to take photos and post them, then periodically check the topic feed."

"And it doubles as self-promotion," she added. "After all, who complains about being too famous?"

Now Bai Yan was genuinely interested.

His gaze settled on the silver bracelet around her wrist. It looked as good as he'd imagined—even a little better.

But at that moment, Bai Yan felt the bracelet pale in comparison to her.

He didn't comment on her suggestion, instead musing for a moment before asking, "Are you free tomorrow afternoon?"

Thursday afternoons were reserved for club activities; classes were canceled.

And Fu Liangxia hadn't decided on a club yet, so she answered, "I don't have anything planned."

"Good." Bai Yan nodded, flashing his habitual smile. "Then come model for my brother and me tomorrow afternoon. And as you suggested, we'll shoot some promotional photos."

Fu Liangxia was taken aback. She hadn't expected him to adopt her idea on the spot. After a beat, she nodded. "Got it."

She checked the time on her phone—less than five minutes before afternoon class.

She hadn't expected it to take this long. Worried about tardiness, she said quickly, "I have class soon. I'd better go."

Bai Yan nodded and walked her to the door, then, as if just remembering, said, "Oh, by the way, we'll also have a few other models for the shoot. Don't worry—you know them all."

The words 'you know them all' gave Fu Liangxia a vague sense of dread.

The next second, a male voice confirmed it, grinning: "It's Su Xingshu, Fu Haoyao, and Cheng Xingzhou. You're familiar with them, aren't you?"

Fu Liangxia's footsteps faltered, but she hurried off even faster.

Seeing this, Bai Yan's smile deepened.

When he turned back to the studio, which now looked subtly different, he paused for a moment, then took out his phone and quietly searched for T's limited edition.

*

Fu Liangxia arrived at the Art Appreciation class and was, sure enough, late. Fortunately, it was a large lecture hall with two doors on the sides, so her entrance went largely unnoticed.

The course had an unexpectedly large number of students—probably because it was an easy elective. She spotted several familiar faces among them.

"Xiaxia!" Xu Cai's seat was near the door. She saw her and waved. "There's a spot next to me."

Fu Liangxia was happy to sit close by, avoiding the teacher's attention.

Xu Cai was being so friendly, probably because she'd misunderstood Fu Liangxia's relationship with Fu Haoyao yesterday.

There was a boy and a girl sitting next to Xu Cai. The boy seemed familiar—he was the one who'd been showing off his knowledge of luxury goods on the first day. The girl was often with Xu Cai.

Fu Liangxia only glanced at them briefly, not noticing the front or back rows, and ducked into the seat.

"Club sign-ups close this afternoon. Have you decided which one?" Xu Cai asked, hiding her mouth behind a book.

The girl next to her whispered, "If you haven't decided, you could join the Fan Club. The activities are easy, there are lots of perks, and it counts for more points than regular clubs."

Xu Cai held some status in the class, and Fu Liangxia had been invited by her, so the two sitting nearby were quite friendly and eager to chat.

"Yeah, given your connection to the F4, you could probably snag a vice president spot in the Fan Club," the boy said, his voice thin with barely concealed envy.

"Don't be sour. The F4 aren't the kind of people just anyone can approach. You have to have some real skill," Xu Cai shot back with a glare, then turned back to Fu Liangxia, her tone serious. "But he's not wrong. The Fan Club is merit-based. If you could get your hands on F4 salon tickets or something, they'd be falling all over you."

Fu Liangxia was puzzled. "So the Fan Club isn't run by them?"

"Of course not," the girl next to her explained. "That's why Su Xingshu's club is the biggest—he's a musician, so things like VIP tickets and autographs are easy to buy and make great incentives."

"But the others have their fans too, alright?" Xu Cai pouted. "Our Fu Haoyao's club isn't small either, just we don't have as many outside fans."

"But if you joined, Xiaxia, and maybe threw in a few perks, you'd definitely attract new blood."

So that was the real agenda.

Fu Liangxia didn't respond. If it weren't for her tasks, she wouldn't have joined any of these clubs.

It was all so boring.

Her silence, however, was not lost on Xue Changgui, who was sitting diagonally behind and had been eagerly eavesdropping.

When he'd seen the girl walk in, whom the president treated differently from others, he'd been surprised.

What a fate—both of them picking the same elective out of hundreds, and they just happened to sit front and back.

Xue Changgui was practically swooning.

But then the conversation took a dangerous turn. The president was sitting right there, and these people were trying to recruit Fu into someone else's fan club—and not just anyone, but the president's best friend.

She should only join the president's!

Hearing his three classmates eagerly pitching—one for Fu Haoyao, one for Bai Yan—Xue Changgui didn't dare look at the president's face.

He silently prayed: please don't say yes, Fu. And even if you do, don't do it right in front of him...

Because that would be too cruel.

Fortunately, Fu Liangxia didn't keep him waiting. She firmly stated her position: "I'm not joining theirs."

Not just any club—not theirs.

Xu Cai: "So who's you joining?"

Xue Changgui had a guess, and his heart raced. Not Fu Haoyao's, not Bai Yan's... and she was close to the president, so who else could it be?!

He watched the president's tense face relax slightly, and his heart soared. He was shipping them again.

But the next second, the girl's cool, clear voice froze him in place—

"Su Xingshu, then. I like people who sing well," she said, making it up on the spot.

"Thud!"

The sound of a book slamming hard on the desk came from behind her.