Chapter 8: Can We Change the Subject?

“Settle accounts?” Li Liang sneered, a smirk creeping onto his face. “Fine by me. Let’s finish what we started the other day.”

He stroked his chin as he glanced around. The bamboo grove was quiet now—perfect for trouble. He hadn’t forgotten the sting of that beating with her father’s stick. That humiliation still burned.

Yuanyuan, we can’t take them!” Bei Xiaolin whispered, nudging Cheng Yuan with growing panic.

“Just watch me,” Cheng Yuan replied, calm and unshaken.

Li Liang stepped forward, arms spread as if welcoming her. “I don’t like you, but you’ve got a pretty face.”

Cheng Yuan’s eyes turned icy. “Too bad. I find yours downright revolting.”

Then, without warning, she threw a punch that landed squarely on his face.

Li Liang staggered, stunned. He’d been plotting how to pin her down—not expecting her to strike first. His two lackeys rushed forward, but Cheng Yuan kicked Li Liang to the ground and swiftly took them down in one fluid motion.

Bei Xiaolin stood frozen, eyes wide. Was this still the same Yuanyuan she knew?This was the stuff of gangster dramas—the unbeatable boss girl.

But Cheng Yuan wasn’t done. She kept kicking them, showing no mercy. Even their faces weren’t spared. She turned to Xiaolin. “Wanna blow off some steam?”

“I do!” Bei Xiaolin declared without hesitation. After all that bullying, she finally had the chance to fight back.

Li Liang and his cronies howled in pain, their threats growing weaker with every kick.

“Cheng Yuan,” Li Liang growled, spitting blood. “I won’t let you get away with this!”

“Oh no,” Cheng Yuan said mockingly, planting another kick, “I’m terrified. You think anyone’s going to believe you? Better yet—do you think the teachers will?”

She dusted off her hands. “Xiaolin, let’s go.”

Bei Xiaolin looked at her like she was seeing a goddess. “Sister Cheng, please accept this humble bow from your little sister!” she said, pressing her palms together in mock reverence.

Cheng Yuan smirked. “Little beauty, give your big sis a kiss.”

She tilted Xiaolin’s chin with a teasing leer, instantly making her blush.

“Yuanyuan! When did you—how did you—ugh!” Xiaolin slapped her hand away, red-faced.

“I was matching your vibe,” Cheng Yuan said with a laugh. Around Xiaolin, she really did feel eighteen again.

“Yuanyuan, teach me how to fight! I want to be just like you!” Xiaolin pleaded as they walked back to class.

Cheng Yuan glanced at her. “Fine—but on one condition.”

“Not just one! Ten! A hundred! Name it!” Bei Xiaolin was practically bouncing with excitement.

“You have to pass the exam.”

The smile vanished from Xiaolin’s face. “Yuanyuan, Sister Cheng, can we please change the subject?”

She clasped her hands and looked at Cheng Yuan with pleading eyes. “Studying makes my head hurt. I get sleepy as soon as I crack open a book.”

“No,” Cheng Yuan said firmly. She wasn’t about to let Xiaolin repeat the dead-end path of her past life. If Xiaolin could get into the Drama Performance Academy, everything would change for her.

As expected, Li Liang and his crew didn’t show up to class. No teachers came asking questions either.

After school, Bei Xiaolin was still begging. Cheng Yuan, as always, kept her head down, focused on her homework.

“Yuanyuan, pleeeease teach me!”

“Come on, bestie! What if Li Liang comes back? I can’t let him bully me again!”

“You wouldn’t want me to get beat up, right?”

She clung to Cheng Yuan’s arm, whining all the way to the school gate—until she suddenly stopped.

“Wait… is that your dad?”

Cheng Yuan looked up and saw the familiar figure under the streetlamp. It was indeed Cheng Huaien.

“Dad, I told you not to come pick me up. It’s so late!” she said as she hurried over. “Have you been waiting long?”

“I just got here,” Cheng Huaien replied with a smile. “There’s nothing to do at home anyway.”

“Uncle Cheng,” Bei Xiaolin greeted politely, then shot Cheng Yuan a look that clearly said, Didn’t you say you two weren’t on good terms?

Cheng Yuan just smiled, brushing it off. She’d spent the entire walk gossiping about their teacher—nothing serious.

“I’m home now, you two go on ahead!” Bei Xiaolin waved from her doorstep. But as she watched Cheng Huaien and Cheng Yuan walk away together, something like envy flickered in her eyes.

“Dad, you really don’t need to pick me up,” Cheng Yuan said gently. “Xiaolin and I can walk back together. It’s safe.”

“It’s no trouble,” he replied. “Besides, I can’t sleep well at home.”

He grinned. “Guess how many tea eggs I sold today?”

“You only made thirty,” Cheng Yuan said, puzzled.

“Thirty eggs—and I landed an order for five hundred and twenty!”

Cheng Yuan stopped in her tracks, stunned.

Excited, Cheng Huaien explained, “I met a woman at the station selling tea eggs too. We got to talking—turns out her breakfast shop needs a supplier.”

Wait… the tea egg lady at the train station is buying from Dad now? Cheng Yuan was speechless

“Dad, that’s amazing! Way better than working in some restaurant.”

Had her dad always been this good at business?

When they got home, Cheng Huaien had already prepared her bathwater, keeping it warm on the stove.

“Yuan Yuan, I made stir-fried noodles with meat. Come eat while it’s hot,” he said, placing two steaming plates on the table. “You’ve been studying so hard—your old man’s got to take care of you.”

The aroma made her pause. The taste was just like she remembered from childhood—familiar, comforting, and full of love.

“Dad, you should rest. You’ve got to make over five hundred eggs by tomorrow. That’s a lot of work.”

“It’s nothing. Your dad’s still young!” he said cheerfully. “As long as I can make money, I’m happy.”

“Come on, eat and go to bed early,” he urged, lowering his head to dig into his own plate.

Cheng Yuan looked at him, heart full. Maybe this time, their story really would be different.