Sang Ning stared at the flashing caller ID on her phone screen, her fingers tightening around the device as her heartbeat quickened.
She took a deep breath and swiped her thumb across the screen to answer.
"Hello."
"Where are you?!" He Siyu's voice was dark and icy.
Her lips pressed into a thin line. "At the Wenze Hotel."
"Stay there." His words were deliberate, as if spoken through gritted teeth.
Her chest constricted, a chill creeping up her spine.
He hung up. Pei Songhan emerged from the room, adjusting his collar and rubbing his forehead.
"Sang Ning, I truly didn’t expect things to turn out like this. I’ll have the news taken down immediately and find out who leaked those photos. They won’t get away with it."
Sang Ning’s eyes turned cold. What did it matter if they found out?
It would just be a scapegoat.
Whoever was behind this was determined to expose her, unbothered by any attempts to suppress the story. The journalist who leaked the photos had likely already been rewarded handsomely, even if it meant sacrificing their entire career—or worse, facing jail time.
At this point, she knew she was trapped in a losing battle.
A wave of irritation washed over her. She hated being passive, hated being manipulated.
Lowering her gaze, she replied coolly, "Thank you for your efforts, Young Master Pei."
Pei Songhan hesitated, opening his mouth as if to say more.
Sang Ning lifted her eyes to meet his. "Given the circumstances, tonight’s banquet is over. You should leave first."
With the news already spreading, his presence would only complicate things—for both of them.
Pei Songhan knew leaving was the best course of action, but he frowned in concern. "What about you?"
Her fingers curled into the fabric of her dress. "My family will handle it."
Only then did he remember her family was present, and some of his worry eased. "Then I’ll go. I’ll get the news retracted and investigate the leak. Call me if anything happens."
"Fine." She gave a slight nod.
Pei Songhan paused, his steps faltering as if reluctant to leave.
But her expression remained indifferent, offering no reason for him to stay. Worried he might only add to her troubles, he swallowed hard. "I’ll go now."
Finally, he turned and walked away.
Xu Yan hurried over. "Young Master Nan, the reporters are still detained. What should we do now?"
Sang Ning’s gaze sharpened. "Call the police. Hand them all over."
If she was going down, she wouldn’t go alone.
"Understood. I’ll take care of it."
Xu Yan rushed off again.
The noisy hallway finally fell silent, and Sang Ning felt the exhaustion crash over her, her head throbbing with frustration.
She dragged her weary body back into the room and sank onto the edge of the bed.
Pulling out her phone, she skimmed through the headlines.
[No wonder the Nan Group landed the Pei family’s business—their daughter climbed into bed with the second son of the Pei family.]
[With the Nan family’s status, the Peis would never have given them the time of day otherwise.]
[But can this marriage even happen? The Pei second son was originally engaged to the Zhu Family. Now they’re downgrading to the nouveau riche Nans?]
[Whether she gets in or not, she’s already profited. How else would she have gained control of the Nan Group? What a schemer.]
A numb weariness settled in her chest.
This project had consumed half a year of her life—from bidding to final celebration. What should have been her triumph had instead become her disgrace.
She tossed her phone aside, gripping the edge of the bed as she bowed her head, her chest tight.
The sound of rapid footsteps made her look up. He Siyu strode in, his face stormy. She hadn’t locked the door.
Her eyes met his, the usual composure in her gaze replaced by rare vulnerability.
His expression faltered, a pang striking his heart.
She had always been decisive—whether ending things or reconciling, he had never seen her like this.
His voice was low and demanding. "Explain."
Her lips pressed together. "Pei Songhan and I were set up. The entire floor was reserved by the Nan family, but my key card was duplicated. I was lured here, and the reporters showed up to take photos."
Her tone was detached, neither pleading nor defensive.
She didn’t have the energy for theatrics.
If this was truly aimed at her, then He Siyu’s distrust and rejection were exactly what the mastermind wanted.
She knew she was still trapped in this game, still suffering the consequences of someone else’s scheme.
Part of her wanted to fight back, but facing him now, she suddenly felt too drained to care.
His glare softened slightly, though his tone remained harsh. "That’s it?"
"That’s it."
He yanked at his tie, frustration boiling inside him. "Nan Sangning, is that all you have to say?"
"Do you believe me?"
He paused, his gaze dark. "Why should I?"
Her eyes locked onto his, stubborn. "You should."
"Why?"
"Because you’re He Siyu."
Because he was He Siyu—different from everyone else.
She knew the mess ahead—explaining to her family, clarifying things with the media, apologizing to the Peis.
Just thinking about it exhausted her.
Seeing the stubborn, almost petulant look in her eyes, the anger simmering in his chest began to fade.
His lips thinned as he noticed the large stain on her dress. "Why is your dress ruined?"
She glanced down. "A server spilled wine on me."
"Change into something clean. Isn’t it uncomfortable?" His tone was gruff.
She frowned at the sticky mess clinging to her skin.
Grabbing a fresh black dress, she stepped into the bathroom to change.
When she emerged, the clean outfit seemed to settle her mood as well.
"Let’s go. We shouldn’t stay in this cursed place."
Sang Ning shook her head. "I need to go downstairs. My family must be looking for me."
His brows knitted. "What good will their words do?"
"I have to clean up this mess. Their opinions don’t matter to me anyway." Her tone was lighter now.
He studied her, sensing a shift in her demeanor.
"I’m leaving." She pulled the door open and strode out without hesitation.
Ten minutes of despair was enough. She had no time to wallow—she would deal with every last one of them.
By the time He Siyu snapped out of his thoughts, she was already gone.
Uneasy, he pulled out his phone to call her.
But the moment he dialed, a ringtone echoed in the room.
He turned and spotted her phone half-buried under the white bedsheets.
He frowned, walked over, and bent down to pick it up, only to see the caller ID flashing on the phone screen.
【Strawberry Cake】
The call background was a picture of fireworks.
Against the night sky, a dazzling array of fireworks burst into bloom. Beneath them stood two figures watching the spectacle—a man in a brown overcoat, hands casually tucked into his pockets, exuding a relaxed air, and a woman bundled in a white down jacket, wrapped in a red scarf like a little penguin, tilting her porcelain-fair face slightly upward as she gazed at the radiant night.
