Rong Wangtian inquired about the incident.
It turned out that these girls were obsessive fans of the film emperor Yan Ting, spending all their free time chasing after celebrities instead of focusing on their studies.
They had even pooled their money to pay a hefty sum to uncover Yan Ting’s private residence.
When they saw online that Yan Ting had taken a woman out to dinner and brought her back to his place, the six girls decided to confront her, vowing to teach her a lesson.
But to their surprise—
Despite ganging up on her, they didn’t gain the upper hand at all. Instead, they ended up in a humiliating mess.
The blood-like liquid they had prepared ended up splashed all over themselves.
Even though they were the ones who suffered, they still had to bow their heads and apologize to Rong Yu—otherwise, the incident would go on their permanent records…
Rong Yu spoke calmly, "When Yan Ting was your age, he had already been admitted to the Beijing Film Academy. If you admire him, you should take him as an example—study hard and get into university. Chasing stars shouldn’t mean losing yourself. It should be about becoming someone as brilliant as your idol."
With that, she walked out.
Rong Wangtian signed the police documents and followed her.
He asked in astonishment, "Xiao Yu, when did you get to know Yan Ting?"
Even someone like him, who rarely watched movies or TV, knew about Yan Ting’s fame—proof of just how popular the star was.
Rong Yu lifted her gaze. "That has nothing to do with you, Mr. Rong."
The title "Mr. Rong" stung him deeply.
Vaguely, he realized that at some point, his eldest daughter had stopped calling him "Dad."
The way she looked at him was always cold and distant, as if he were a stranger.
This feeling left Rong Wangtian deeply unsettled.
He took a deep breath. "I’m your father. Of course I have the right to ask about your relationships. Yan Ting is a high-profile celebrity, a complicated figure—and a man. You’re still young. What if he—"
Rong Yu frowned.
She had never paid much attention to this nominal father of hers.
But today’s incident reminded her that no matter what happened to her, Rong Wangtian would be the first one held responsible.
Moreover, her household registration was still under the Rong family.
She needed to transfer it out as soon as possible.
Seeing Rong Yu’s somber expression, Pei Yaru quickly intervened, "Mr. Rong, let’s not dwell on this. After what happened today, Rong Yu must be shaken. She has a competition tomorrow—we can’t let this affect her. She should rest at the hotel tonight…"
Rong Wangtian pressed his lips together.
On her very first day in Beijing, something like this had happened. How could she possibly focus on the competition now?
The three of them arrived at the hotel. Pei Yaru escorted Rong Yu to her room, only to find Song Huai pacing outside.
Hearing footsteps, Song Huai looked up and approached. "Is Rong Yu alright?"
Pei Yaru smiled. "She’s fine."
"Today’s lecture covered some key points for tomorrow’s exam. I took notes—Teacher Pei, you might want to review them." Song Huai handed over a notebook, knowing Rong Yu would likely refuse it. Giving it to the teacher was a safer bet.
Pei Yaru flipped through it—the handwriting was neat, every point crucial. Delighted, she said, "Song Huai, thank you so much!"
"It’s nothing. Don’t mention it." After handing over the notebook, Song Huai glanced at Rong Yu and returned to his own room.
Pei Yaru placed the notebook on the table by the door and went to draw a bath for Rong Yu. By the time Rong Yu finished showering, she found her blood-stained clothes already washed and hanging on the balcony.
She sighed.
Pei Yaru, a mere teacher, had done more for her than Rong Wangtian ever had as a father.
She couldn’t imagine how devastated the original Rong Yu—who had yearned for paternal love—would have been in this situation.
Early the next morning, as soon as Rong Yu sat up, there was a knock at the door. "Rong Yu, time to get up. Meet in the lobby in half an hour."
Rong Yu replied, "Understood, Teacher Pei."
She quickly washed up, combed her hair, changed clothes, and headed downstairs.
The six members of Haicheng No. 1 High School, led by three teachers, walked toward the competition venue across from the hotel.
The National Physics Olympiad Finals had gathered 300 students from schools across the country—all top talents in their fields.
The morning session was an individual written exam, while the afternoon was a team experiment round.
Entering the exam hall, Rong Yu glanced at the paper. There were only two problems:
1. Quantum tunneling effect calculation.
2. Satellite orbit correction under solar wind disturbance.
She picked up her pen and began working methodically. A little over half an hour later, she set down her pen and stood to submit her paper.
The invigilator was stunned.
He had seen many prodigies who finished early, but the fastest had taken an hour. This girl had completed it in just thirty-six minutes?
Before he could say anything, Rong Yu had already left.
Most students who made it to the finals were physics geniuses, the cream of the crop in their schools. Seeing someone submit so early while they were still struggling with the first problem—
For the first time, these top students felt the crushing weight of pressure.
Exiting the venue, Rong Yu was about to call Old Master Ji to arrange lunch when she noticed a car parked at the entrance.
She walked over. "What are you doing here?"
Ji Yanting, wearing a cap and mask for disguise, stepped out and respectfully opened the car door for her. "Let’s talk inside."
"About last night—I already know what happened." Ji Yanting looked remorseful. "I never imagined obsessive fans would track me to my residence. I failed to eliminate the risk in advance. Please punish me, Great-Grandmother."
"It’s not your fault," Rong Yu said, studying him. "We dined at a high-end private restaurant where photography is prohibited. You should consider who leaked those photos to the fans."
Ji Yanting’s expression shifted to disbelief. "Zhou Yachen?"
But he quickly shook his head. "No, he wouldn’t do something like this."
Rong Yu: "The fact that you thought of him means he’s suspicious. Investigate and you’ll know."
Ji Yanting’s face darkened with conflict.
After dropping Rong Yu off to meet Old Master Ji and arranging lunch for them, he returned to his car and dialed Zhou Yachen’s number.
Zhou Yachen was in an acting class—one Ji Yanting had enrolled him in under the guise of honing his skills for theater performances. In reality, it was a soft dismissal from the industry.
Having fallen so low because of Rong Yu, Zhou Yachen was determined to make her suffer.
Yan Ting’s obsessive fans were notoriously aggressive. Surely, by now, they had—
His phone rang.
The caller ID displayed a single word: Brother.
For some reason, an ominous feeling gripped him, his heart pounding wildly.
Ji Yanting cut straight to the point. "Was it you?"
"Brother, how could you suspect me? No matter how reckless I am, I’d never do something like this!" Zhou Yachen protested vehemently. "The restaurant was full of people—anyone could’ve taken that photo and shared it in fan groups. Just because I was there doesn’t mean—"
"Is that so?" Ji Yanting's voice carried an unmistakable edge. "How did you know the 'incident' I was referring to was about the photos?"
Zhou Yachen's face instantly drained of color.
