I Heard That I am a HeartBreaker - Chapter 49

Upon hearing the name mentioned by the other party, Song Ya felt a wave of nausea. Even the originally sweet and delicious sundae in front of her suddenly seemed greasy and difficult to swallow.

The moment she thought of Gu Xue and remembered her previous “shady operations” and disgusting tactics, all the irrational pieces of the puzzle seemed to click into place. It was simply something a normal person could hardly imagine; after all, ordinary people cannot connect with the world of a “sub-human.”

A chill ran down Song Ya’s spine when she realized that the woman had actually dared to plot against her, even possessing the capability to bribe people close to her. She felt a fierce urge to vent this pent-up anger, but the thought of Gu Xue’s partner—who was like a rabid dog—forced her to swallow the bitter fruit for now.

Tang Yulin watched the changing expressions on Song Ya’s face with great satisfaction. It was exactly as she had predicted: how could someone born with such natural arrogance and self-importance accept being used or outmaneuvered by another?

Furthermore, the other party’s methods were disturbingly far-reaching, managing to flip someone by Song Ya’s side. Who knew what they would do next?

Tang Yulin waited patiently for a reply. She was indeed poor, but that didn’t mean she had a mild temper. If she didn’t have the raw power to strike back directly, she would use her opponent’s strength against them, throwing everything into chaos. The more people involved, the higher her chances of escape and ultimate victory.

Perhaps it lacked traditional morality, but this had always been Tang Yulin’s way of survival. She didn’t feel she was in the wrong; if the wealthy enjoyed the benefits of money, did they also have to monopolize special privileges? That would be going too far. Since the other party wanted to destroy her directly, they couldn’t blame her for launching a counterattack.

Song Ya closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, she had regained her composure. In a situation like this, she couldn’t afford to lose her footing. Moreover, since Tang Yulin had come to her, she clearly needed Song Ya to do something.

As long as she didn’t take the initiative, the upper hand remained with her. Song Ya wasn’t entirely sure what the girl wanted, but she refused to be anyone’s pawn. In this world, the only person allowed to “use” Song Ya was Qiu Shuang.

“You really have a lot of confidence in me. I don’t know why you chose to disbelieve the other person’s story and point the finger at Gu Xue instead. Are you so sure it wasn’t my doing? Or do you have evidence?”

Song Ya hoped more than Tang Yulin did that there was actual evidence. If there were, negotiations with the Gu family would be much easier—at least she could squeeze something out of them. Without evidence, whatever was said was essentially nonsense. Moreover, since Song Ya hadn’t actually come to harm, as long as fundamental interests weren’t touched, the whole thing could be brushed off as a joke. Even if it were taken seriously, it would just mean one less person in the social circle.

Although Gu Xue’s status as the Gu family’s heiress had been partially stripped away because her “fake heiress” mother had been exposed, Fang Weiyi was still there.

Thinking of that woman who stood unconditionally by her partner like a rabid dog, Song Ya felt a massive headache coming on. She didn’t know what kind of incredible luck Gu Xue had to land a lover like that—a fanatic who cleared every obstacle for her. Mentioning Fang Weiyi usually resulted in nothing but silence from others. She was an openly out lesbian, the sole heir to a major conglomerate, exceptionally capable, and few people could best her.

“Of course I believe you. You are an opponent on my level, after all. You are a proud person; you wouldn’t stoop to such low-class tricks.”

Sometimes, Tang Yulin felt things were just too difficult. Perhaps the world was too hard, or maybe it was just her life. She was used to planning every detail, racking her brain, and using every means at her disposal. Yet, what she gained wasn’t a head start of several meters at the beginning of the race; she merely hoped those who had already started could be pushed back a few steps to make the competition a tiny bit fairer.

All Tang Yulin wanted was for her opponents to compete fairly and stop using underhanded methods. She had her own pride and self-confidence; she never believed she would lose to others fairly, she was just afraid of being taken down by injustice.

She was also somewhat lucky to be dealing with a young, high-spirited lady who disdained such petty tricks, which allowed her to sit openly across from her and earn a seat at the table. For Tang Yulin, such an opportunity came only once, while for someone like Song Ya, such chances were countless.

Tang Yulin sighed inwardly, asking for forgiveness for her endless calculations. Sometimes, she felt a sense of sorrow regarding this situation—spending all her energy and schemes not to reach a supreme position, but simply hoping her opponent wouldn’t use dirty tactics.

Poverty seemed to break many things; it made simple people complex and thin characters more layered. Sometimes, Tang Yulin would reminisce about her youth, but everything seemed to have changed the moment she won her first championship. She didn’t know how much talent she truly possessed; she just chased others frantically. Because once she stepped onto this path, there was no turning back. She could only run with all her might, putting in thousands of times more effort to get the results she wanted.

“Tang Yulin, you really have a lot of nerve.”

Song Ya had been uncertain before, unable to believe the girl was so bold. After all, she couldn’t imagine someone plotting against her. But this time, the boat had truly capsized. Who would have thought that she, who was usually so overtly arrogant, would be schemed against? She had essentially become a ladder for someone else to climb.

Song Ya looked directly into the girl’s eyes. What kind of eyes were they? She thought the girl might be rattled because she had been found out or intimidated by her gaze, but Tang Yulin simply looked back at her with total calm.

In other words, Song Ya knew exactly what the girl was thinking. If she wanted to, she could easily cut off the girl’s future path, but she couldn’t do it. It made her think of Qiu Shuang. The two of them hadn’t met in their youth; back in middle school, children were perhaps too young to see the vast differences between people.

Back then, the brand of one’s clothing or having imported snacks didn’t matter all that much; people actually cared more about excellent grades and a beautiful appearance.

Song Ya was not a high achiever. She knew she wasn’t naturally fond of studying, and her mother had once hoped she would change her attitude toward her education. At first, Song Ya couldn’t accept that she was just an ordinary person when it came to intelligence, but as she grew older, perhaps she finally understood that it wasn’t a big deal.

Young children don’t truly understand the concept of being wealthy. Even though Song Ya had money, she had no desire to buy massive amounts of snacks just to trade them for so-called friends. To her, those people weren’t real friends at all. The first time she became aware of Qiu Shuang was when she heard the teacher’s constant praise for her.

Hearing the name “Qiu Shuang,” she thought of autumn; her mind filled with images of clear autumn skies and other impractical feelings—much like the way she stared directly at the other girl’s rank as number one in the entire grade.

Later, everything turned out completely different from what she had imagined. She and Qiu Shuang ended up together—or rather, it was arranged by the elders in her family—and so she entered the top-tier class. A high-quality environment is vastly different from others; everyone was busy studying, and no one bothered with meaningless trifles. For once, Song Ya enjoyed a rare moment of peace.

Consequently, her gaze slowly shifted toward Qiu Shuang. Song Ya didn’t know what this feeling was or how to describe this strange sensation. She wanted to be with her, perhaps because she admired her excellence, or perhaps because she wanted to become someone like her.

But reality proved that friendship is a two-way street. No matter what, the other girl treated Song Ya’s friendly gestures and various remarks as if they were thin air. Song Ya felt that in the other girl’s eyes, she didn’t even count as a human being, but rather some kind of animal.

Verbal abuse and social isolation are more severe than physical fists, but Song Ya didn’t care. She would pull out the thorns others aimed at her and point them right back. Yet, this was the first time she had encountered someone like this.

People generally adore those who are beautiful and talented, but this beautiful and talented girl wasn’t some untouchable “flower on a high mountain”—instead, she lived very much in the real world. Admiration often seems to turn into jealousy, especially when you discover that there is no price to pay for bullying the other person.

Even now, Song Ya thinks back to the first time she actually saw Qiu Shuang. Previously, she had only seen her name hanging high at the top of the rankings. This time, it was at an awards ceremony, and the girl had taken first place in the grade once again.

Trying to understand someone and forming a relationship is a difficult task. Until she truly saw her, Song Ya never imagined she would feel angry simply because she couldn’t become “number two.”

Qiu Shuang didn’t have many relatives; she was an only child with parents who loved her, but their only focus was her grades. Her mother couldn’t understand why a student entering an academy would struggle with classmate relationships; in their world, the sole purpose of school was to study. Therefore, how could a child possibly do anything other than study?

Qiu Shuang didn’t understand why she was being hated for no reason, either. But what could she do? She couldn’t throw a punch because no one would help her; she couldn’t strike back because there was never anyone to back her up; and she didn’t believe in ethereal, fleeting warmth. It seemed everyone only liked her because she was number one. So, to be loved, did she have to remain number one forever?

It wasn’t until Song Ya appeared that everything seemed to reach a turning point.

Qiu Shuang envied the other girl’s flamboyance and courage—the things she didn’t possess—but she didn’t realize that the other girl was envying her just as much. Two lonely children without friends finally found a friend in each other. Perhaps in the eyes of others, it was incomprehensible why Qiu Shuang would choose to walk alongside a spoiled heiress with a bad temper.

But Qiu Shuang would never forget how this ill-tempered heiress, who always argued with her, was so incredibly heroic in front of others.

Song Ya was bullying Qiu Shuang, but she only allowed herself to do it. No one else besides her had that right. She had always been smug about this, believing it to be the right way to do things. It sounds overbearing, or perhaps like a form of “domestication,” but villains never admit they are villains. When people do something wrong, their first instinct is usually denial; Song Ya never considered herself a bully. Much like those who benefit from a system, they don’t stop to think about how their interests are gained.

“Don’t stare into my eyes.”

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