After Being Bound to the Scummy Alpha System, I Became Famous Thanks to My Face Blindness - Chapter 31

Tan Shiyi hesitated. Although she had performed in a public showcase with Cheng Qingyan, the two of them were not particularly close. Cheng Qingyan was the quiet, reticent type—someone who only spoke when necessary and spent most of her time practicing. The only thing Tan Shiyi really knew about her was that she used to be Tang Ling’s roommate.

“Is it convenient to talk now?” Cheng Qingyan asked again.

Tan Shiyi actually didn’t want to visit an unfamiliar Alpha’s room late at night. But seeing how sincere Cheng Qingyan seemed, she worried it might be something important and finally nodded. “Alright.”

Cheng Qingyan’s room was upstairs. The two entered the elevator one after the other, neither speaking a word.

Tan Shiyi knew Cheng Qingyan wasn’t someone who showed emotion easily, but even so, the air felt unusually heavy.

When they reached the room, Cheng Qingyan swiped her key card, turned on the lights, and stepped aside to let Tan Shiyi in.

“Sit.”

She closed the door, took two bottles of yogurt drink from the mini fridge, handed one to Tan Shiyi, and casually opened the other for herself.

Tan Shiyi had no idea what Cheng Qingyan was trying to do. She murmured a polite “thank you” and placed the drink on the table untouched.

Cheng Qingyan didn’t speak again until she had downed more than half her bottle. She licked her lips lightly. “Sorry. I was a bit tense this afternoon—just need a moment to calm down.”

Tan Shiyi’s heart skipped. A bad premonition stirred.

And sure enough, the next second Cheng Qingyan came straight out with it.

“Tan Shiyi, you like Tang Ling, don’t you?”

Tan Shiyi averted her eyes. “Why do you ask that?”

“I’ve always been curious about your relationship,” Cheng Qingyan said. “I even asked Tang Ling once if you two were dating. She said no.”

She paused before continuing, “But you two are obviously close. You already know how to play piano, yet you had Tang Ling teach you guitar. Today, she’s the one who got hurt, and you’ve been following her around everywhere. I can’t help but wonder—do you like her?”

“How do you know I play piano?” Tan Shiyi asked, and then it clicked. “So that’s why Tang Ling asked me today if I played any other instruments—you told her?”

Cheng Qingyan nodded. “I happened to see you once. And clearly, she trusts your words more than mine. So, by not denying it, I take it you’re admitting it?”

Tan Shiyi didn’t answer directly. “I didn’t realize you were so invested in other people’s private lives.”

Cheng Qingyan shook her head. “This isn’t about privacy. The team’s no-dating rule exists for a reason. We’re trainees—we should focus on improving, not romance. If you two hadn’t decided to fan the Tang Shi CP, today’s accident probably wouldn’t have happened. Besides,” she added calmly, “I don’t agree with the way you’re keeping Tang Ling close through deception.”

Tan Shiyi’s face flushed hot, yet she couldn’t find the words to refute her.

Being so calmly and directly exposed made her feel stripped bare. All her little acts of caution—her timid, careful affection—suddenly felt cheap and shameful.

She didn’t want to lose composure in front of Cheng Qingyan, so she forced herself to say, “And what about you? You’re clearly paying a lot of attention to Tang Ling too. Don’t you have feelings for her?”

Cheng Qingyan didn’t hesitate. “I do like her. That’s why I’m going to confess to her when the training camp ends.”

For a moment, Tan Shiyi didn’t know how to respond. Cheng Qingyan’s frankness and sincerity only made her feel smaller, more unworthy by comparison.

“So, you called me here just to say all this?”

“I wanted to ask you for something,” Cheng Qingyan said softly. “About the guitar lessons—you wanted to learn, she wanted to teach, and that’s fine. But now that she’s injured, I hope you won’t cling to her out of selfish desire. She needs rest.”

That phrase—selfish desire—hit Tan Shiyi like a blow. She gritted her teeth. “You don’t need to remind me. I already know. Starting tomorrow, I won’t bother her about the guitar anymore.”

Cheng Qingyan’s lips curved slightly in a polite smile. She handed the yogurt drink back to Tan Shiyi. “Thank you.”

Her calm, composed demeanor made Tan Shiyi even more flustered.

She awkwardly accepted the bottle. “Thanks to you too.”

Tan Shiyi couldn’t remember how she managed to leave Cheng Qingyan’s room. Only when the cool night breeze brushed against her burning cheeks did she realize she’d already escaped that suffocating space.

All her life, she’d never really liked anyone before. When the girls around her were experiencing their first crushes, she was focused entirely on studying, believing hard work could change her fate.

She’d always been outstanding—admired, praised—but deep down, she’d never felt secure. After all, she was a child even her own parents had abandoned.

No matter how strong she tried to appear, how high she built her emotional walls, in front of someone like Cheng Qingyan—born into privilege, confident and self-assured—her buried inferiority would always find a way to shatter her defenses.

She took several deep breaths, forcing herself to calm down. Wandering aimlessly, she finally crouched beneath a tree, pulled out her phone, and began typing a message to Jiang Manli.

She wrote a long paragraph, then deleted it all.

Tang Ling didn’t lack for anything. She had Jiang Manli, a roommate she could talk to about anything; Fang Zhizi, an energetic little fan who adored her; and Cheng Qingyan, a steady, thoughtful admirer. They could all take care of her just fine. Tang Ling didn’t need her—didn’t need Tan Shiyi’s useless, self-indulgent concern.

In the end, Tan Shiyi sent only a short, practical message:

“Keep the wound dry. Avoid water. Get plenty of rest, and stick to a light diet.”

Jiang Manli was stunned when she saw it. Just a moment ago, Tan Shiyi had been doting and meticulous—almost ready to send her a three-meal daily care plan—and now she’d gone cold and distant, like a completely different person.

She replied,

“Sister-in-law, anything else?”

Tan Shiyi stared at the words sister-in-law, feeling an unfamiliar sting.

“I’m not your sister-in-law.”

Jiang Manli blinked, confused. She turned to Tang Ling. “Ling-jie, is it just me, or does Tan Shiyi seem kinda upset? Is she always this moody?”

Tang Ling, thinking of her own ever-fluctuating ‘scummy Alpha’ tendencies, found the question hard to answer. “Maybe she’s just tired. I told you not to call her that, but you never listen.”

The night passed quietly.

Many trainees who heard that Tang Ling had been injured came by to visit her. Even Xia Yutong, whom she hadn’t spoken to in a long while, arrived carrying a basket of eggs.

“Ah Ling, I heard that eating foods high in protein helps prevent scarring. Do you have an egg cooker in your dorm? If not, I can give you mine!”

But Tan Shiyi never showed up.

Tang Ling found that a little strange. After all, just yesterday Tan Shiyi had confidently promised Tang’s father that she’d personally take care of Tang Ling’s meals, lodging, and daily needs—yet barely a night had passed, and she had vanished without a trace.

Tang Ling knew Tan Shiyi was training in the practice room next door, but she didn’t want to disturb her. She just scrolled absently through her phone, unable to focus.

Cheng Qingyan walked up to her. “Does the wound still hurt?”

Tang Ling flexed her arm a little. “It doesn’t hurt if I don’t move it—just feels a bit itchy.”

Cheng Qingyan nodded. “That’s a good sign. It means it’s healing. Just make sure you don’t scratch it.”

As if I’d dare, Tang Ling thought. Just looking at that torn-up skin is torture enough.

Cheng Qingyan’s gaze fell on her phone. “Waiting for a message?”

“No, just scrolling around. Calming the fans a bit—they’ve been worried.” Tang Ling set her phone down. “Come on, I’ll train with you guys.”

She didn’t play any instruments and couldn’t offer much guidance to the others, so she kept a close eye on Jiang Manli instead. Poor Jiang Manli—normally she’d still have time to flirt with Lu Yao in between breaks, but today she didn’t even have the luxury to glance around.

“Ling-jie, are you taking revenge on me or something?” Jiang Manli groaned miserably.

Tang Ling kept a straight face. “What would I even need to take revenge for? Get back to practice. If you still can’t memorize the lyrics by tonight, no dinner for you.”

Jiang Manli wilted instantly, looking like a scolded schoolgirl as she obediently began reciting her lines.

By the time night finally came, Tang Ling truly understood what it meant by “a day apart feels like three autumns.”

Even though she usually only saw Tan Shiyi at night anyway, tonight felt different—like something essential was missing.

When she opened the door to room 5203, Tan Shiyi was already inside, waiting. She stood by the window, a red-and-white guitar slung over her shoulder, gazing quietly out at the night sky.

Not wanting to startle her, Tang Ling deliberately cleared her throat.

At the sound, Tan Shiyi turned around. Her eyes were clear and bright, like a startled fawn’s. Moonlight poured over her shoulders, lending her an almost ethereal grace, as if she didn’t quite belong to the mortal world.

Tang Ling teased lightly, “You said you’d take care of me, but I didn’t see you all day.”

Tan Shiyi lowered her head. “Sorry. I was a bit busy today. How’s your injury?”

“If I said it was better, I’d be lying. It’s not the kind of thing that heals overnight.” Tang Ling took a few steps closer. “And you? How’s your practice going?”

“I can play it through more smoothly now.” Tan Shiyi plucked a couple of strings, then asked softly, “Do you want to hear it?”

“Then sing it for me,” Tang Ling said, sitting down comfortably and watching her with a calm, interested gaze.

Tan Shiyi took a deep breath, telling herself this would be the last time she performed in front of Tang Ling. She had to make it count.

She began to sing softly:

“You once said, I was like a flicker of flame—

Burning alone, bright yet fragile.”

She had practiced this song countless times in private, but at this moment, tears welled in her eyes. For the first time, she realized how a love song could so perfectly mirror one’s own heart. Can You Forget Me—every word, every note—felt written just for her, for this small, unrequited love she dared not speak.

By the final chorus, her voice had gone hoarse, trembling with barely suppressed sobs.

Tang Ling listened quietly until the end. Only after Tan Shiyi had calmed down did she ask gently, “What’s wrong today? You seem a little down.”

Tan Shiyi forced a faint smile. “Nothing. The moon’s just too beautiful tonight—it got to me a little.”

Tang Ling exhaled, relieved. “You’re such a sentimental one. I almost thought someone had bullied you.”

“Tang Ling.”

“Hm? What is it?”

“We.”

“We?”

Tan Shiyi pressed her lips together. She wanted to say let’s not see each other anymore, but the words caught in her throat and refused to come out.

Just this once, she thought, let me be selfish, just this one last time.

She lifted her gaze, her eyes pleading softly. “Let’s go up to the rooftop and watch the stars, okay?”