Drama Queen Reborn as a Top Student!-Chapter 820 - 371 Tales of Romance

Shen You’an was about to open the door when Lan Xiping’s call came in.

"Boss, what’s happening over there? Is it that Zhou Kun being clueless again...?"

"Things are too chaotic in Qingzhou, it’s time to deal with it."

"That’s exactly what I was thinking. I’ll head to Qingzhou personally first thing tomorrow morning."

At that moment, the door in front of her swung open from the inside, and Yan Lu excitedly rushed over: "An’an, why are you back so early...?"

When she saw Shen You’an on the phone, she stopped speaking. Her lively, expressive eyes darted around mischievously, her gaze full of teasing.

She mouthed the words: "Barely apart and already can’t bear it?"

She assumed Shen You’an was on the phone with Rong Xianning.

"That’s it for now, I’m hanging up."

Shen You’an ended the call and closed the door.

Yan Lu carefully sized her up: "An’an, turns out you and Rong Xianning have known each other for a long time."

She wasn’t blaming Shen You’an for hiding it—she had no right to. An’an wasn’t the type to flaunt her connections, she was always reserved and low-profile. If not for being dragged along to the birthday party this time, and coincidentally selected as the lucky fan, she might never have told anyone.

It was just... surprising. Very surprising.

The idol she admired and her best friend had already known each other for years, and their bond likely ran deep—perhaps childhood friends?

What kind of fate brings two people together like that?

Shen You’an crouched down to change her shoes, her head lowered as she said, "Sorry for keeping it from you."

"What’s there to apologize for? I know you—you wouldn’t keep it from us on purpose. But back when I was struggling to snag concert tickets, you stayed quiet the whole time. I don’t care—going forward, you must get me front-row tickets for Rong Xianning’s concerts. If not, then... then..."

Yan Lu’s attempt to sound tough, only to falter in wording, was absurdly cute.

Shen You’an patted her on the shoulder. "Of course, no problem."

Yan Lu grinned happily and began bombarding Shen You’an with questions: "How did you two meet? Was it like what people online are saying, childhood friends? Is it true?"

While the livestream was still ongoing, some online experts had already dug up Shen You’an’s identity. The internet hides many talented individuals with eagle eyes.

Shen You’an was from Qingzhou, while Rong Xianning hailed from Yunzhou—normally with zero intersection. However, someone claimed Rong Xianning’s mother was originally from Qingzhou, and he had spent part of his childhood there. Perhaps that’s when he met Shen You’an.

This theory quickly gained acceptance and spread online.

Yan Lu was curious too. With one of the key parties right in front of her, she couldn’t resist asking.

Shen You’an opened the fridge, grabbed a bottle of water, and paused mid-action upon hearing what Yan Lu said.

Noticing Shen You’an’s momentary blankness, as if caught in reminiscence, Yan Lu suddenly realized her questioning lacked decorum. She hurriedly cracked a joke to gloss over it: "If you don’t want to talk, just forget it. I’m not interested anyway, I’m starving—I’m going to order takeout."

Yan Lu ordered a bunch of barbecue. Shen You’an wasn’t one for late-night snacks, but seeing how happy Yan Lu was, she joined in and ate a little.

"An’an, everyone’s saying Rong Xianning likes you—look..."

Yan Lu handed her phone to Shen You’an. On the screen was a photo—a young man looking at a girl across from him, his gaze overflowing with tenderness.

It was a screenshot from the livestream.

Although there weren’t overwhelming negative press articles online, rumors and speculations about Rong Xianning and Shen You’an’s romantic connection were rampant—tales of a gifted young man and beautiful woman were timeless.

Shen You’an glanced at it and then looked down, responding indifferently, "He looks at everyone like that."

The young man’s eyes were strikingly beautiful. Their shape carried a hint of aloof coldness, yet when he looked at you, it was like moonlight pouring in amid a starry night—impossibly gentle, irresistible, capable of capturing the soul.

His fans often said he had "eyes made for loving," inherently tender, but paradoxically emanating an icy elegance—a contradiction so exquisite it left countless young women head over heels, unable to resist.

Yan Lu paused, studied the image again, and earnestly shook her head: "It’s different—his gaze when looking at you is definitely different."

Rong Xianning’s gaze toward Shen You’an was distinct from how he looked at anyone else.

Shen You’an grabbed a tissue to wipe her hands, got up, and said, "I’m going to shower. Don’t eat too much—your stomach will suffer."

As she finished, she headed straight to the bathroom.

"Hmph, you must be feeling guilty," Yan Lu muttered under her breath while voraciously devouring more skewers and gleefully roaming the online world.

Before falling asleep, Shen You’an stared blankly out at the night sky, her mind drifting to the young man’s eyes.

"Don’t be unhappy..."

The young man’s voice seemed to echo like a spell around her ears.

Shen You’an dreamt that night. In her dream, she was back in that winter evening where she was utterly humiliated.

A basin of cold water was splashed onto her, drenching her to the bone.

A jacket landed on her shoulders—a garment still faintly bearing the previous wearer’s warmth, driving away the chill, enfolding her in tenderness.

A distinctive masculine cedar scent, mixed with a faint trace of tobacco, wafted to her nose.

Almost instinctively, she turned around and grabbed hold of the man who was leaving.

The man’s steps paused, leaving only his silhouette to her.

The man was tall, clad in a shirt and vest without a jacket. The tailored design outlined his broad shoulders and narrow waist with precision, his figure exuding a silent sense of authority and detachment. Just that shadowed silhouette conveyed an undeniable pressure.

She took an urgent step forward, standing directly in front of him.

Clouds cloaked the moon, darkness engulfed everything, making his face invisible.

Only his eyes shone as brightly as the most dazzling star in the universe.

Eyes filled with profound emotions, yet emanating an icy light.

So unfamiliar, yet intimately familiar.

Her dream-self’s heart trembled before she could delve deeper, the world spun around her. She yelled out loud and awoke abruptly.

Pale moonlight spilled over her, the surroundings enveloped in tranquility.

Shen You’an gasped for air and sat up in bed.

As she recalled the eyes from her dream, they felt unnervingly real—so much so that her entire body shivered.

Those eyes...

Shen You’an rubbed her temples, reasoning scientifically that dreams were reflections of reality—processed and distorted information from the waking world.

In simpler terms, the old saying held true: "What you think during the day, you dream of at night."

Earlier that day, she had seen Rong Xianning and his "don’t be unhappy" had planted doubt in her mind, leading to that nighttime dream.

But she wasn’t sure if he was truly that person.

In the dark, groaning sounds of pain broke her train of thought.

Shen You’an suddenly remembered that Yan Lu was sleeping beside her. She immediately switched on the bedside lamp and saw Yan Lu curled up in a ball with the quilt, clutching her abdomen, cheeks flushed red, her sweat-soaked bangs sticking to her face. Clearly, she was delirious and moaning in pain.

Shen You’an reached out and touched Yan Lu’s forehead—it was burning hot.

"Lu Lu, where does it hurt?"

Yan Lu drowsily opened her eyes and grabbed Shen You’an’s hand: "An’an, I... My stomach hurts, so badly..."

Shen You’an pressed on Yan Lu’s abdomen lightly, and Yan Lu hissed in pain.

"It seems like acute enteritis. I need to take you to the hospital right away."

Shen You’an called 120, and the ambulance arrived promptly. She accompanied Yan Lu to the hospital’s emergency department.

Yan Lu was diagnosed with acute enteritis. Shen You’an, holding a stack of forms from the nurse, was on her way to pay the fees.

Suddenly, a group of people rushed past her, wheeling an emergency stretcher and causing pedestrians to scatter out of the way.

Shen You’an stepped back and watched as the group hurried by.

She casually glanced at the stretcher and froze instantly.

On it was a young man, his expression pale, his right arm drenched in blood—the sight was horrifying.

In the chaos, the young man’s eyes met hers.

For a split second, time seemed to freeze.

Then, a girl dressed in a violet gown rushed after them, shouting furiously, "His arm must be saved, or I’ll ensure every one of you pays the price."

Her presence was arrogant and domineering.

The young man was pushed into the operating room. The doors closed, blocking the violet-gowned girl outside.

A fifty-something male doctor, surrounded by men in black, hurried over, clearly disheveled—likely dragged straight from his bed.

The girl in violet sized him up: "You’re the renowned surgeon, Dr. Leng Yan?"

Leng Yan wiped sweat from his forehead. "You flatter me, Miss Yu."

"The person inside is the Gu family’s sole heir. If anything happens to his arm, you know the consequences."

The girl’s condescending tone made everyone uncomfortable, but Leng Yan dared not refute her. He could only promise, "Miss Yu, rest assured, I’ll give it my all."

With that, he hurriedly entered the operating room.

Yu Ruohuan paced anxiously outside the closed operating room door. Suddenly remembering something, she pulled out her phone and dialed a number.

"Make sure to keep that slut under control. I’ll deal with her when I get back," she said venomously.

Shen You’an narrowed her eyes and, keeping a low profile, turned to leave.

But in the next moment, Yu Ruohuan’s chilling voice rang out behind her: "Stop right there."