The Sour Plum Girl [Rebirth] - Chapter 3
At the Nightfall Bar, Song Yiran sat sideways, her left hand propped up on the bar counter. There were still very few people in the shop, and Wo Song had already begun cleaning up.
Going straight from a shift at a coffee shop to this venue honestly, the great Wo Song was pushing herself incredibly hard.
Song Yiran picked up the glass of plain water in front of her and took a small sip; it was Song Tian who had poured it for her.
Song Tian was warm-hearted, just as she had been in her previous life, fussing over Yiran with concern the moment she walked in.
Song Tian exclaimed, “Ahhh, Yiran! Is it really you? I’m such a fan! I follow your public account; I absolutely love your style.”
“Hahaha, I’m glad you like it.” Song Yiran felt a bit bashful and said, “I thought I wouldn’t be recognized.”
Since her public account focused mainly on introducing fashion outfits, the focus was usually on the clothing. There were very few clear shots of her face, and she usually edited them slightly, so she felt there was a difference between the photos and her real-life self.
Song Tian looked as if she could never mistake her, pulling out her phone to show Song Yiran the public account.
“Look, Great One! Even though you use lighting and shadow effects on every photo, as a girl who has spent years chasing celebrities, I can still piece together what you look like.”
She spoke with immense pride, then swiped the screen a few times to find a group chat, showing it off excitedly.
“Look, I created this fan group for you. As a fan, I’ll definitely protect you so you can keep creating great content.”
Song Yiran’s gaze lingered on the messages in the group. Most were reposts of her account and screenshots regarding her. It was very orderly. She wasn’t a stranger to fan groups, but she was surprised it had happened so quickly.
Back when she was a “nobody,” it had taken her half a year to get a decent fan group.
Her eyes instantly brightened as she looked at Song Tian. She was deeply grateful for what the girl had done, but she couldn’t help but worry for her.
“Thank you so much, but isn’t this too much trouble for you?”
“No trouble at all! Who told you to be my idol?” Song Tian patted her chest proudly, then glanced over at the hardworking Wo Song.
“Besides, you’re Wo Song’s friend, which makes you my friend too. We grew up together, and she’s never really had any friends. I’m just really happy she managed to make one.”
There was a trace of heartache in Song Tian’s eyes as she looked at Wo Song. Song Yiran noted this and thought to herself that they must have a very good relationship.
As for the “no friends” part, that truly surprised her. She remembered that in her previous life, the great Wo Song was a social butterfly with countless friends; one could always see her sharing her daily life on social apps.
Anyone who interacted with her said she was a warm and passionate person, like a little sun.
Song Yiran had originally thought Wo Song was cold to her because her first impression of Yiran was poor.
She never expected that ten years ago, Wo Song actually had such a lonely and aloof personality.
As Wo Song leaned over to wipe the glass, she felt their gazes. When she turned around, the two of them were staring at her strangely.
Was that… pity?
She tilted her head and shot a displeased look at Song Tian, as if saying: What are you up to now?
Song Tian immediately shifted her eyes and guiltily spun her stool around to face away from her.
Wo Song sighed, figuring that Song Tian had started talking about her lack of friends again.
Her gaze met Song Yiran’s. The girl offered a smile, revealing cute tiger teeth—she looked incredibly innocent and sweet.
Wo Song felt even more irritated and turned back to continue cleaning.
Seeing this, Song Yiran frowned. Wo Song was so cold, and she felt a hint of dislike in the other girl’s eyes.
She leaned closer to Song Tian and whispered, “Why do I feel like Wo Song looks at me strangely?” As a die-hard fan, hearing that her idol disliked her would be heartbreaking; she didn’t want that.
Song Tian looked enlightened and smiled to comfort her. “She’s like that with everyone. Wo Song has a ‘resting world-weary face’; she dislikes everyone.”
Song Tian swirled the glass in her hand as if thinking of something. She looked up and appraised Song Yiran. “If I had to say, it might be because you’re too ‘well-behaved.'”
“She hates the well-behaved types.”
Song Yiran pressed, “Then what kind of people does Wo Song like?”
“I don’t know, but she definitely hates ‘White Lotuses’.” Sensing her description wasn’t quite accurate, Song Tian continued, “Yiran, you belong to that type where a cold elegance turns into beauty, yet you also have that ‘White Lotus’ aura—and Wo Song just doesn’t like that.”
“She was hurt by love before. As for the details, don’t ask; I don’t dare say.” Song Tian spoke in a low voice, shielding her mouth and cautiously watching Wo Song.
Song Yiran’s mouth hung slightly open, her mind racing. This was a massive piece of gossip.
The great Wo Song had actually been hurt by a White Lotus? Just how deep was that emotional scar?
Most importantly, she seemed to have discovered a secret: Wo Song liked girls.
When Wo Song returned to the bar counter, she subconsciously glanced at Song Yiran and Song Tian. Both of them immediately pretended to be busy.
Their movements were perfectly synchronized and looked incredibly eerie.
She asked tentatively, “What were you two just talking about?”
Both shook their heads. “Nothing.”
Wo Song was speechless but didn’t bother pressing. She walked into the back room and returned shortly with a notebook, sliding it in front of Song Yiran.
“Business starts on the hour. You have five minutes to tell me your plan.”
She was a woman of few words, but Song Yiran simply smiled faintly. “I don’t have a plan. You decide on the profit split.”
“Fifty-fifty.”
Song Yiran shook her head. “The photography and the clothing inspiration all come from me. Fifty-fifty is too much.”
Wo Song let out a light laugh, confirming that the girl wasn’t going to just blindly agree just to get close to her. Eventually, she suggested a thirty-seventy split.
Song Yiran thought about it for a moment, then nodded. “Thirty-seventy is fine, but you have to come live at my house.”
“No.” Wo Song saw through her intent instantly.
Song Yiran stood up indignantly, dissatisfied. “I’m doing this for the sake of creative integrity! I prepare the themes and materials for every issue of the public account. If they get leaked midway for some reason, it’ll be a huge loss for me.”
“Brand collaborations also care a lot about this point.” She tried to use these arguments to convince Wo Song to go back with her.
But after listening, Wo Song simply said flatly, “If you don’t trust me, leave.”
The retort left Song Yiran wanting to say something, but she swallowed her words and ultimately had to give up on that idea.
At night, the wind by the river was very strong, blowing until Song Yiran had goosebumps from the cold. Wo Song, walking in front, seemed not to feel it at all, even though she was also wearing a skirt.
The difference was that she wore a long skirt with a brown suit jacket draped over it.
Her waist-length hair flowed freely in the wind. For a moment, Song Yiran felt as if she were a traveler with no home to return to, standing alone in this world, where no one could disturb her silence.
Based on the principle of their partnership, Song Yiran had grandiosely demanded to know where Wo Song lived.
She had waited at the bar until closing. Wo Song had refused once but, finding it hard to refuse again, eventually brought her along.
Walking along the river, the streetlights were hit-or-miss one working, one broken making the path ahead hard to see.
The further Song Yiran followed, the more eerie she felt, especially when she saw Wo Song duck into an alleyway.
She hurried forward and grabbed Wo Song’s left hand, saying somewhat fearfully, “You won’t just disappear in the blink of an eye like last time, will you?”
A soft, warm palm suddenly pressed against her, followed by a delicate, trembling voice in her ear.
Wo Song’s body stiffened; she was a bit flustered. The girl’s perfume swept over her, filled with a cloying sweetness.
She looked down and could see Song Yiran’s slightly trembling eyelashes and her large eyes darting around like a startled rabbit.
Because she had known she was “different” since childhood, Wo Song rarely got close to girls. She lost her composure for a split second.
Once she regained her senses, she pulled her hand away from Song Yiran, took half a step back to maintain distance, and looked at the dim, messy alley entrance. “I don’t have superpowers; I can’t disappear in a blink. If you’re too scared, don’t follow.”
“I’m not scared!” Song Yiran insisted stubbornly.
She unconsciously rubbed her fingertips, feeling a sense of loss. As expected, Wo Song didn’t like her.
she wouldn’t even let her touch her.
From the corner of her eye, Wo Song saw that she looked dejected, like a lop-eared rabbit.
Thinking that she was a pampered young lady who had likely never been to a place like this…
The place where she lived was the cheapest rental area in Yuncheng, as dirty and dark as a gutter.
Since they were partners, she should be somewhat responsible. Thinking this, Wo Song softened her tone and lifted a corner of her suit lapel. “If you’re scared, hold onto this and stay behind me. If you get lost, I’m not looking for you.”
As soon as she finished speaking, the lapel was gripped. She could see the girl’s knuckles turning white, her eyes shining exceptionally bright in the darkness.
“I’ll definitely keep up!”
After winding through one narrow alley after another, Song Yiran finally saw Wo Song’s home.
Up a flight of stairs, it was less of a home and more of a dilapidated small shack. It didn’t even have tiles; it was covered with sun-shading panels.
The surrounding buildings were all similar houses. Song Yiran followed her up the stairs, noting the exposed sink. The sink was made of cement, and the faucet was a primitive model—naturally, there was no hot water. Bottles and jars were piled up around the house.
Wo Song stepped forward, took out a key, and shoved it into the wooden door where the red paint was peeling off in chunks.
Opening the door, there was only a small bed inside. A fan stood by the bed, and opposite was a long table with an induction cooker and some bowls and chopsticks. There wasn’t even a refrigerator, but the place was kept very clean.
Wo Song’s clothes were tossed haphazardly by the bed; there was no wardrobe here.
Song Yiran knew how hard this kind of life was. She had lived through it after her family went bankrupt in her previous life.
In the summer, it felt like being in a sauna; it was so hot that even the air from the fan was scorching, making the skin itch.
In the winter, you had to boil water in a pot if you wanted it hot. The toilet was an outdoor dry latrine, and for a bath, you had to go to a public bathhouse.
And yet, the nineteen-year-old Wo Song was living in such an environment while working two jobs a day.
Song Yiran’s heart ached with bitterness, her eyes misting over. She felt so much pity for this version of Wo Song.
Wo Song didn’t seem to find the environment embarrassing or shameful. She casually found a stool in the room, patted the seat with her palm, and handed it to Song Yiran. “Sit. I only have this one.”
When she noticed the moisture in the girl’s eyes, her outstretched hand paused. “You’re not going to cry, are you?” She looked Song Yiran up and down but didn’t see any injuries.
Song Yiran shook her head, took the small stool, and sat down. “No, some sand just blew into my eye.”
It was a very clumsy excuse, but Wo Song didn’t expose her; she wasn’t interested.
Sitting casually on the bed, Wo Song stared at Song Yiran, making the latter feel quite self-conscious. She asked, “Is there something on my face?”
Wo Song denied it. “Since you’ve seen it… shouldn’t you… go back?”
It was a clear order to leave. Wo Song didn’t like her personal space being occupied. She didn’t understand girls and had no interest in pleasantries. She had always been this way once she achieved her goal, she sent people away.
Song Yiran looked at her in surprise, realizing it was indeed very late. She assumed Wo Song was tired, so she quickly stood up. “It is very late, I should go. I won’t disturb you any longer.”
As she spoke, she picked up her bag to leave. Wo Song watched her silently. When she reached the door, Song Yiran realized they hadn’t added each other as contacts yet. She turned back and held up her phone.
“Since we’re partners, it’ll be more convenient if we add each other.”
“What’s your phone number?”
“I don’t have a phone.” Naturally, she had no number.
Song Yiran’s hand, which was ready to type on the “Add Friend” page, froze.
Wo Song’s frankness and casual attitude left Song Yiran at a loss for words. Given Wo Song’s current conditions, she indeed couldn’t afford a phone. Ultimately, Song Yiran had no choice but to leave helplessly.
She walked down the steps with her head hanging low. She turned back to look at the little shack; Wo Song was standing at the door watching her leave, her expression as cold as ever.
Seeing her like that, Song Yiran stopped and shouted toward her, “Wo Song! My name is Song Yiran! I’ll see you tomorrow!”
She beamed with a smile and waved her hand.
Wo Song watched her a vibrant young girl suddenly barging into her life. She knew that one day, the girl would disappear too.
Just like the way that small figure was disappearing from her sight right now.
But a smile still tugged at the corner of her mouth. “What a weirdo.”