I Heard That I am a HeartBreaker - Chapter 48

Song Ya thought she would get an answer quickly. Her gaze was fixed intently on the other woman, who wore a black baseball cap. As she lowered her head, most of her face was hidden, leaving only her chin visible.

Song Ya began to observe her—something she had never bothered to do before. People rarely show mercy or interest toward someone they view merely as a “tool.”

Indeed, Song Ya didn’t even know the girl’s name. She only knew that this person had proactively approached her, offering to be an errand runner. Song Ya had accepted and used her services quite liberally.

“Speak up.”

Song Ya tried her best to control her voice and facial expressions, attempting not to look like a “mean girl” from a South Korean campus bullying drama.

However, the heat of frustration burned within her. Song Ya couldn’t understand why this girl had tried to be “clever” by doing something so reckless. Moreover, if she was going to be smart, why wasn’t she smarter? What was the point of a clumsy tactic like stealing clothes?

The “lackey” pressed her lips tightly together, remaining silent. However, the sweat continuously rolling down her face betrayed her intense nervousness. Looking at those drops of sweat, Song Ya thought the girl must be scared to death.

A flicker of pity rose within Song Ya, only to be immediately extinguished. She figured the girl had only done this for money. Now, seeing her trying to shoulder the blame alone, Song Ya thought she must truly be obsessed with profit.

Song Ya felt a wave of discomfort—a feeling of being seen through, or perhaps, being manipulated. She was someone who valued “face” above all else; she couldn’t stand the idea of others knowing her subordinate had done something so low.

Furthermore, they were seen as a unit. Whatever the lackey did—whether Song Ya knew about it or not—would ultimately be pinned on her.

She had to minimize the fallout and resolve this quietly. She couldn’t let the story get out, despite how wronged she felt. It was an infuriating realization: this lowly follower was actually threatening to stir up a storm over her head.

Even more annoying was that Song Ya couldn’t actually do much. If she kicked the girl out now, her rivals would undoubtedly sniff out the scandal immediately.

The priority was to find out where the clothes were hidden, return them, and settle the matter privately with Tang Yulin.

The lackey remained silent. From the moment she set this plan in motion until now, everything had unfolded exactly as she had predicted. Song Ya was acting precisely like the woman she thought she knew.

She knew that even if she were caught, the worst she’d face was a demand for an apology. She had mastered Song Ya’s temperament: this pampered heiress would never demand financial compensation because, in her eyes, “face” was more important than justice or fairness.

In the past, she wouldn’t have dared to think this way—just as she never realized how unfair the world could be.

As a student of an ordinary major, she had been assigned to a dormitory with arts majors, forced to witness the high-spending lifestyle of the wealthy every day.

She hadn’t known how to fit in or join their circle, yet she didn’t want to be left behind. She remembered Song Ya. She had sought her out specifically and had successfully obtained what she wanted.

From a wealthy person’s perspective, her actions might seem undignified. She was like a dog begging for food, accepting designer skincare products Song Ya had used once and discarded, or wearing expensive clothes the heiress no longer wanted.

It looked shameful, but so what? The money was real, and in that moment, dignity didn’t hold much meaning.

“Why do you think there is always such inequality between people?”

Song Ya, waiting for a confession, received only this cryptic question. The girl looked up, revealing the eyes hidden beneath the cap. They were dark and bright, staring at Song Ya as if demanding an answer.

Distinguished Miss, please tell me the reason for all of this. Is it the “reincarnation lottery,” or a lack of effort? Open your eyes, look at me, and answer.

Song Ya didn’t understand the girl’s train of thought or why she was asking such a question. Yet, under that gaze, she felt an inexplicable pang of guilt. Song Ya studied the girl’s face—it was plain, the kind of face that would disappear in a crowd.

She could barely recall her name, knowing only that she ended up in her dorm because of a room shortage. When did everything start to change?

Song Ya actually knew that poverty itself doesn’t make people “bad”—envy does. Were all villains truly evil? Not necessarily. Were all “good” people truly good? Not always.

Song Ya didn’t use wealth as the sole measure of a person’s worth. Not because she was exceptionally noble, but because in her circle, those richer than her looked down on her, and those poorer had no need to pretend.

Still, she truly despised people who tried to destroy others. Tang Yulin was also poor, yet she was working hard to build a life. Why steal from her? Just to save face in front of Song Ya?

“How exactly did you get past the security gate?”

The girl lowered her head. For her, everything had been a turning point. She never expected such a “windfall” to land in her lap.

Actually, the moment that person had found her, she had gone to find Tang Yulin. But when she saw Tang, she was startled.

How could someone be so thin?

Tang Yulin had only smiled faintly, saying that being thin made her look better on camera, which would help her career later.

Ten Days Ago:

“Hello, are you Tang Yulin from the junior class? I have something important to discuss with you…”

Tang Yulin looked at the person crouching by the school gate. He didn’t look like anyone special—messy yellow hair, a sallow complexion, and dark circles so heavy they looked like they might hit the floor. He clearly hadn’t slept in days.

“Hello, classmate…”

Tang Yulin didn’t know why he was looking for her. She even wondered if he needed help. After a moment of hesitation, she walked toward him.

“Tang Yulin, someone is out to get you!”

Tang Yulin thought this was the most extraordinary day of her life. She would never forget those big, bright eyes. Even in such a desperate state, that person was still thinking of someone else.

“I imagine you must be very short of that 100,000 yuan.”

The lackey’s previously animated expression vanished into silence the moment those words were spoken.

“I am poor, but my parents taught me from a young age which money should be taken and which should not. If I have to hurt you to get this money, I wouldn’t have a moment of peace for the rest of my life.”

Soon, Tang Yulin heard the whole story from the girl.

“So, what you’re saying is that someone gave you 100,000 yuan and helped you bypass security just so you would put nails in my shoes?”

“Yes. I don’t know her name; I only heard the people around her call her ‘Miss Gu.’ I’m not clear on the specifics beyond that.”

Tang Yulin lowered her eyes. To prepare for the competition, she had naturally researched her opponents.

Her strongest competitors in this race were Song Ya from the neighboring university, and Gu Xue, who was ranked just behind the two of them.

Tang Yulin didn’t need much effort to piece together what was happening. It was likely an attempt to make the two leaders fight so the third could benefit—the “snipe and the clam grapple while the fisherman catches both” strategy. Or perhaps they thought Tang Yulin was just a commoner who didn’t have the standing to fight back?

“How about this? I have a plan…”

After hearing the full explanation, Song Ya’s expression gradually became serious. She looked up at the girl, searching for any hint of a lie.

“So, you’re saying Tang Yulin helped you change the plan? And with her help, you swapped the plan of planting nails for stealing her clothes instead?”

The follower nodded.

“I told her it would be better to just steal the clothes. A lawsuit couldn’t be settled in a short time anyway, so she agreed. The reason I called you… is because Tang Yulin wants to meet you.”

Song Ya remained silent for a moment. Her eyes flickered with thought before she instantly regained her composure, as if her previous agitation had never existed.

“I’m sorry. I was prejudiced. I apologize for how I spoke to you on the phone.”

Once she understood the situation, Song Ya breathed a sigh of relief. Although it was a trap, she wasn’t like everyone else—one might even say her mind worked differently. She knew there were other schemes at play here, but they had nothing to do with her as long as she could clear her name.

Song Ya noted the time and place to meet Tang Yulin and nodded, turning to leave. Just as she moved, the girl called out to her.

Song Ya didn’t know what she wanted, but she turned back. The girl had removed her baseball cap, revealing her hair.

The follower looked at Song Ya. Perhaps the only good thing about Song Ya was that because she was usually idle, her mind was relaxed; she spent her time watching low-effort short videos, which meant her “high-and-mighty” act wasn’t entirely impenetrable. At least she was willing to give them a response.

“Classmate Song Ya, my name is Bu Ping.”

Bu as in ordinary, Ping as in common.

She wasn’t just a “lackey”; she had a name.

Song Ya tilted her head, seemingly confused by this behavior. Why introduce herself now? Was this a freshman orientation or a press conference? Why jump out and exchange names like primary school students?

“Alright, Bu Ping. Is there anything else? I need to go.”

The girl said nothing more, watching Song Ya walk away. Finally, she sighed. As expected, money never came that easily. However, she had obtained what she wanted. Fate had circled back into her hands, but it didn’t seem that important anymore.

She was prepared for everything.

Upon arriving at the designated meeting spot, Song Ya sat down and began to think about what to say. After a moment of silence, she looked at the menu and ordered a sundae.

This was the scene Tang Yulin walked into: Song Ya sitting there as if nothing had happened, as if the gathering storm had nothing to do with her.

“You are nothing like I imagined.”

Tang Yulin had long heard of Song Ya’s reputation—mostly negative. Consequently, her feelings toward the girl weren’t great; her only respect for her came from a mutual recognition of their shared talent.

But the enemy of my enemy is my friend. The priority was to make things clear.

As Song Ya listened to Tang Yulin recount the details, she was left utterly speechless.

“You’re saying it’s her? Well, that really is beyond my expectations.”

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