Ji Shiyu suddenly didn’t want to dwell on it any longer.
He took out his phone, glanced at the Cat Paw app, and unconsciously tapped into it.
Gu Ran had already ended her livestream by this time.
He scrolled to the homepage of "Cat Paw’s Most Beautiful Girl," where the profile picture was a silly selfie of Gu Ran, followed by a fan count of over two million.
Below the avatar was a link to the fan group "Ran Ran’s Fish Pond."
Further down were the streamer’s updates, including daily livestream reminders and casual, social-media-style posts.
"The takeout I ordered today was amazing. Spicy crayfish—yyds!"
"Sharing a rainbow I spotted on the way~"
"Repost this magical broom to sweep away all your bad luck for the second half of the year."
Ji Shiyu read through them, then absentmindedly scrolled to the bottom.
Gu Ran didn’t post often, and each update was brief, accompanied by a couple of photos, simply documenting snippets of her life.
A far cry from her past, when her social media was filled with island purchases and fashion shows—lavish and extravagant. The most recent post before this new life had been a photo of an engagement announcement.
Ji Shiyu took a deep breath, returned to the profile section, and tapped "Follow."
The follow failed. A system prompt popped up: "You are currently browsing as a guest. Please log in or register first."
Suppressing his impatience, Ji Shiyu registered an account. Several usernames he tried were already taken, so he finally just typed a random string of letters: "wdlpml."
Registration successful. Follow successful. "Welcome to Ran Ran’s Fish Pond No. 9."
...
Gu Ran’s first gaming promotion was a huge success. Her cosplay posters were plastered all over the internet alongside the game company’s advertisements, and her livestream gameplay—though hilariously unskilled—became a hit, drawing many players to download the game.
After the first promotion, more offers poured in, all with high payouts. But Gu Ran was cautious. She didn’t want to overwhelm her fans with too many promotions in a short time, so she spaced them out, maintaining a steady but reasonable pace.
Lying on her bed, Gu Ran kicked her legs excitedly as she checked the first payment from the promotion in her bank account. The game company had even added a bonus due to the campaign’s success and expressed interest in long-term collaboration.
Satisfied, Gu Ran counted her bank balance once, then twice, before a WeChat notification popped up.
It was Yuan Mengxuan, the queen bee of her former plastic social circle.
Gu Ran frowned as she saw Yuan Mengxuan had sent her an invitation.
This Friday was Yuan Mengxuan’s birthday, and she was inviting Gu Ran to the party.
The last line of the message read: "Even though you’ve started a new life, don’t forget about us old friends, okay?"
"I checked—you don’t have a livestream scheduled for Friday. You have to come."
Gu Ran smirked at the invitation.
Though she and these girls had always exchanged thinly veiled jabs, each knowing the other had cursed them a thousand times in their hearts, on the surface, they maintained a facade of fake friendship and harmony.
And now, Yuan Mengxuan had even checked Gu Ran’s schedule to make sure her birthday fell on a day Gu Ran was free. What a coincidence.
Gu Ran didn’t need to think hard to know Yuan Mengxuan wasn’t inviting her out of genuine friendship. Last time, Yuan Mengxuan had subtly shaded her in a post, only for Gu Ran to respond with a cheerful blessing—then later flaunted her rising popularity when Yuan Mengxuan tried to provoke her in private messages. Now, she wondered what new act Yuan Mengxuan had up her sleeve.
In the past, Gu Ran would’ve skipped Yuan Mengxuan’s party without a second thought. But this year, she felt a sudden urge to see what ridiculous drama they’d cook up next.
After a moment, Gu Ran replied: "Sure."
...
On Friday, Gu Ran took a cab to the address of Yuan Mengxuan’s birthday party—an exclusive members-only club she’d visited a few times before.
She showed the electronic invitation to the staff and was led to the private room where Yuan Mengxuan was hosting her party.
When the door opened, all the guests—mid-drink and laughter—turned to look at her. Then, as if realizing it was awkward to stare, they quickly resumed their conversations.
Gu Ran was no stranger to these looks.
Back when she attended these kinds of events, people had stared at her too—only then, she’d been introduced as Ji Shiyu’s caged canary. Now, she was just herself: Gu Ran.
Yuan Mengxuan immediately stood up and rushed over with two of her minions, feigning enthusiasm. "Oh, Gu Ran! You’re finally here! We’ve been waiting forever—we thought you weren’t coming!"
One of the girls gave Gu Ran a once-over. "Long time no see. That dress is so… simple. Going for the natural look?"
Gu Ran glanced down at the casual floral dress she’d randomly pulled from her closet, paired with flats. While Yuan Mengxuan’s party wasn’t red-carpet-level formal, everyone else had clearly gone all out in designer cocktail dresses.
Gu Ran smiled and greeted them before responding, "I figured the occasion called for something low-key. Didn’t realize everyone else would dress up so much."
The girl’s expression soured. Gu Ran’s words implied Yuan Mengxuan’s party wasn’t worth dressing up for—unlike them, who’d gone all out as if desperate to kiss up to her.
Yuan Mengxuan, however, didn’t seem bothered. She pulled Gu Ran to a seat.
It wasn’t until Gu Ran sat down that she understood why Yuan Mengxuan had been so insistent on inviting her.
Qin Wenyi was seated at the center of the room.
Not surprising, though. Yuan Mengxuan and Qin Wenyi had been flaunting their "friendship" all over social media—it would’ve been weirder if Qin Wenyi wasn’t here.
Qin Wenyi wore an elegant beige gown, every inch the refined heiress of the Qin family. When she spotted Gu Ran, she smiled. "Long time no see, Gu Ran."
It had been a long time.
Gu Ran and Qin Wenyi weren’t strangers. As Ji Shiyu’s girlfriend back then, Qin Wenyi had made sure to acquaint herself with everyone in his circle—including the daughter of his family’s chauffeur, who also attended Yingde Academy. Qin Wenyi would introduce Gu Ran to anyone who didn’t know her: "This is the chauffeur’s daughter. Be nice to her."
Most people would nod and reply, "Oh, the chauffeur’s daughter."
Now, face-to-face with Qin Wenyi in the flesh—
For three years, Gu Ran had heard the whispers: "It’s only because Qin Wenyi is gone." After the shock of discovering Qin Wenyi was alive, seeing her here today should’ve been earth-shattering.
Yet Gu Ran felt strangely calm, even thinking to herself: That’s it?
She smiled back at Qin Wenyi, her gaze steady—unlike the way she used to shrink and avoid eye contact when Qin Wenyi introduced her as "the chauffeur’s daughter."
This was the real purpose of tonight’s birthday party.
The two of them finally met, and the people around them maintained an almost anticipatory silence, as if they had been waiting for this moment. Yet, to everyone's surprise, Gu Ran did not display the expected shame or embarrassment that a mere substitute might feel in the presence of the original.
It wasn’t until a few of the girls started chatting that the atmosphere loosened again.
Gu Ran sipped her glass of lemon black tea, listening as they pulled Qin Wenyi into reminiscing about the past—from basketball games to spring outings, and then to debate competitions.
Without exception, during the basketball games, Qin Wenyi had been the cheerleader who brought water to Ji Shiyu. During the spring outing, she had sat with him in the center of the lawn. And in the school debate competition, they had been on the same team and won the championship.
Qin Wenyi tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and said, "It’s because A-Yu was just too outstanding."
"Those were such good times, weren’t they?" someone sighed nostalgically.
"Yeah," Yuan Mengxuan chimed in with a smile before suddenly turning her curious gaze toward Gu Ran, who had remained largely unresponsive. "By the way, Gu Ran, we haven’t asked you yet—when are you getting married?"
The moment those words were spoken, the air in the room froze for an instant. Then, as if realizing the climax of the evening had finally arrived, a few stifled giggles escaped.
Because everyone knew—shortly after Gu Ran had boasted everywhere about marrying Ji Shiyu, Qin Wenyi had returned. And then, that wedding had quietly vanished without a trace. The next time they saw Gu Ran, she was no longer with Ji Shiyu, reduced to being an obscure online streamer.
So they asked her—when was the wedding? Why wasn’t it happening anymore?—all while gleefully watching the "golden canary" squirm, flounder, and finally crumble under the humiliation of being exposed in front of the one true love.
Gu Ran wasn’t surprised by Yuan Mengxuan’s question. Since she had chosen to come tonight, she wasn’t afraid of these kinds of provocations.
To everyone’s astonishment, Gu Ran suddenly smiled, set down her teacup, and looked at Yuan Mengxuan—who was watching her with the eager curiosity of a gossipmonger—before shrugging nonchalantly.
"I’m not getting married," she said calmly.
"Honestly, I agree with all of you. A love so epic it’s remembered down to the sip of water you once handed him, or so sweet it makes your teeth ache just because you were randomly paired in a science competition—it’s truly a match made in heaven."
"Like everyone else, how could I possibly interfere with something so pure and beautiful?"
"Right?" Gu Ran picked up her porcelain cup again and clinked it deliberately against Yuan Mengxuan’s, whose smile had stiffened.
The girls who had been snickering earlier suddenly found it hard to laugh.
Because, just as Gu Ran had pointed out—no matter how much they reminisced, some things were just… handing over a bottle of water.
No one had ever seen Ji Shiyu and Qin Wenyi holding hands in the past. But they had seen Ji Shiyu drape his suit jacket over Gu Ran’s shoulders in the garden at a banquet, leaning down to kiss her.
Now, Qin Wenyi had been back for some time, yet Ji Shiyu hadn’t shown up to her welcome party. Nor had there been any sign of movement from his side since.
Qin Wenyi’s gaze locked onto Gu Ran, her smile no longer as warm and gentle as before, something unreadable flickering in her eyes.
Gu Ran exhaled lightly. As long as she didn’t care, the one left looking foolish would always be the other person.
She checked the time.
"Oh, I have to go now. Happy birthday, Mengxuan—I left your gift with the butler earlier. See you next time!"
"Bye, everyone."
Gu Ran slung her bag over her shoulder and stood to leave. But just as she was walking out, the banquet hall doors swung open again.
Everyone looked up to see Ji Shiyu standing at the entrance.
The social circle in City A wasn’t large, but it wasn’t small either. Most of them lived off family trust funds, drowning in indulgence after graduation. But Ji Shiyu was different—he had stepped into the heart of power early, his influence so overwhelming that even the board of directors struggled under his pressure. They all knew him, but they also knew better than to pretend they were on the same level anymore.
If Ji Shiyu deigned to attend any one of their birthday parties, it would be nothing short of an honor.
Gu Ran hadn’t expected to see Ji Shiyu here either.
What was he doing here? Had he come specifically for Yuan Mengxuan’s birthday?
The likelihood of that was about the same as him suddenly losing his mind and falling for Yuan Mengxuan—lowering himself to attend this vapid gathering of spoiled heirs engaging in petty one-upmanship.
Oh. Gu Ran glanced at Qin Wenyi, who had been quietly observing the earlier verbal sparring with a smile, occasionally interjecting with a casual "A-Yu this" or "A-Yu that." No matter the occasion, Qin Wenyi always referred to Ji Shiyu as "A-Yu"—intimately.
Yuan Mengxuan seemed just as shocked by Ji Shiyu’s sudden appearance. She hadn’t invited him—not because she didn’t want to, but because she knew he wouldn’t bother with an event like hers.
But regardless, he was here now.
Flustered, Yuan Mengxuan scrambled to her feet as the hostess and hurried over to greet him.
Gu Ran scoffed at the sight of Yuan Mengxuan—who had been so smug and vicious just moments ago—suddenly shrinking in stature.
She was going home.
Gu Ran walked past Ji Shiyu without a second glance, intending to breeze right by him—until he suddenly called her name.
"Gu Ran."
She turned her head and saw the deep frown etched between Ji Shiyu’s brows.
He was facing her. Earlier tonight, he had spotted Gu Ran in a photo posted by one of the attendees.
He had always known Gu Ran didn’t get along with these people. In the past, it was only because of his protection that she hadn’t been trampled over. He didn’t know why she had come to Yuan Mengxuan’s birthday party tonight—whether she had chosen to or been forced to.
Gu Ran’s expression remained blank. "Move."
Ji Shiyu didn’t budge.
She took a deep breath, then sidestepped him and walked away.
She heard him call her name again from behind, but she had no intention of responding.
Gu Ran strode out of the banquet hall without looking back.
Yuan Mengxuan approached Ji Shiyu nervously. She was in the same year as Gu Ran, two years below Ji Shiyu and Qin Wenyi. "Senior Ji," she greeted with a strained smile.
After Gu Ran left, Ji Shiyu’s gaze swept across the room before landing on Qin Wenyi.
Their eyes met. She seemed like she wanted to say something, but when she saw the ice in his expression, the words died on her lips.
Ji Shiyu glanced briefly at Yuan Mengxuan, who was still standing before him with an eager smile, then turned and strode in the direction Gu Ran had gone.
