After a while, everyone sat back down to drink. Sister Zhang still didn’t let the other girl approach me—the girl stayed obediently by the karaoke machine, singing quietly.
Sister Zhang, now tipsy, kept pressing against me, her hand gripping mine tightly. I could feel the heat of her desire, but when it came to matters between men and women, I was completely green. Though she stirred something in me, I didn’t dare show it. I could only hold her rationally, trying to calm her down.
Mr. Zhong got a call, apologizing as he excused himself. Sisters Wang and Sun also stood up to leave. Sister Zhang gazed at me longingly—I knew if I asked her to stay, she would. But I couldn’t. I stood up politely to see them out, and she reluctantly followed.
The two girls left without a word, heads bowed.
After they were gone, my head spun. This was the first time I’d drunk so much. I turned off the music and lights, stumbling into the guest room without even washing up, collapsing onto the bed in a daze.
I don’t know how long I slept, but I woke up parched, my head splitting. I’d never been this drunk before—I hadn’t realized the price of last night’s recklessness.
There was bottled water on the nightstand. I twisted one open and gulped it down, my throat burning. Half the bottle barely made a dent.
I had no idea what time it was. Probably late morning—we’d wrapped up around 2 or 3 a.m.
Sitting up, I tried to clear my head before splashing cold water on my face at the sink. A little more awake now, I rinsed my mouth and washed up. I had work to do. Lan Ya hadn’t given me money and a new place just to laze around.
My pager showed a missed call. Only Little Fatty and Sister Zhang had this number. Worried it might be Little Fatty with an emergency, I checked Sister Zhang’s business card from last night—it was her. She’d called at 6 a.m., but I’d slept through it. Now past 9, I’d call her back later.
The guard at the door wasn’t the same as yesterday’s, but he didn’t stop me. Probably everyone had seen me leave with Lan Ya last night. Even if I didn’t know them, they knew I worked for her.
Outside, the sun was blinding. I stood on the steps, adjusting, then went looking for a food stall. My stomach churned, empty from last night’s drinking, my head still pounding. I felt awful.
Maybe this lifestyle didn’t suit me. Even when I’d gone hungry before, I’d never felt this terrible.
This street was all shops—no food stalls. I’d have to walk toward Old Street, but it was far. My mouth still dry, I ducked into a store for water.
Just as I took a few gulps, someone snatched the bottle from me and threw it aside—then slapped me hard across the face.
Dazed, I shoved him. "The hell’s your problem? Who are you?"
The guy sneered. "Who I am doesn’t matter. Just remember *your* place. Lan Ya’s backing doesn’t make you untouchable. Cross Sister Zhou, and you’re done. Now you get it?"
Recognition hit—this was the guy drinking with the She-Devil last night. He’d glared at me then. She must’ve filled him in.
I wiped my mouth. "What do you want?"
"Disappear from *Grand World*," he growled. "Leave Lan Ya. Or we’ll bury your father with new ‘evidence.’ This time, he *will* rot in prison."
I didn’t know how much was bluff, but if the She-Devil targeted my dad again, he’d lose. When a woman points fingers, no amount of denial helps. His firing and my expulsion proved that.
He suddenly choked me, fingers digging into my throat. My vision blurred, lungs burning. I was dying.
While I gasped, he rifled through my pockets, stealing the leftover cash from yesterday—and my pager.
Shoving them into his jacket, he finally released me. I collapsed, coughing violently, tears streaming.
By the time I recovered, he was gone. Empty pockets. I laughed bitterly. One day of having money, and I was broke again. These nice clothes just mocked me now.
Luckily, the 20-yuan red envelope from my mentor was still tucked away. Enough for a bowl of rice noodles. My stomach cramped, threatening to revolt. I needed food.
In an alley, I found an old woman’s noodle stall—just a few foldout tables. I paid five yuan for an extra-large portion.
Here in Yunnan, we called them *mixian*, not noodles. The famous "Crossing the Bridge" version was a restaurant dish, with elaborate broths and toppings. This stall only had the simple, boiled kind.
The She-Devil was clearly out for blood. Her relationship with Lan Ya was a mystery, but she didn’t seem afraid of her. Telling me to leave Lan Ya meant she had her own power—hidden, but real.
I couldn’t risk provoking her. If she dragged my father back to court, our family would be finished.
I wouldn’t gamble on whether she’d act. The stakes were too high.
For now, I’d avoid *Grand World* and Lan Ya’s circle. Lay low until I understood the She-Devil’s game.
But where to go? Home wasn’t an option—if Dad found out I’d been expelled, he’d kill me.
The She-Devil’s hatred had to have a reason. I believed in my father’s innocence, but why would she frame him?
No one hates without cause.
My first task: uncover what grudge she held against him.
Dad taught math, was head of academic affairs—second only to the principal. With the old principal retiring soon, Dad, at 45, was a top candidate for the role.
The court had dismissed the case for lack of evidence. The police clarified the detention. So why was Dad fired? Even a demotion or reprimand would’ve made sense.
Someone had used this to destroy him permanently.
To understand the She-Devil’s motive, I’d have to start at school.