Chapter 45: I Waited for You Until You Sprouted 02

In the single dormitory.

One month has passed.

Jun Aran lay in despair on the single large bed, the pure white lace canopy like a princess's castle, the pink-and-white curtains draped down, the wind from outside blowing in, the bells on the curtains and the dreamcatcher chiming, on the three-by-six-meter pink bedsheet with pale yellow daisies, she stared near-collapse at the ceiling.

Others kill themselves and die outright; she killed herself, yet how did she end up back at eighteen?

In the room, it's still the style she originally liked; even after marrying, it never changed.

On the pink-white walls hung many photos—either her mixing perfume with bare hands, or her reclining fish pose, twisting her waist; the peerlessly beautiful Jun Aran truly makes it hard to look away.

Must I go through the scheming and intrigue of my past life again in this lifetime?

Thump—thump!

The urgent knocking broke her train of thought.

"Aran, practice starts at three, don't forget." Mo Sect studies opera, and the person outside the door is the only girl in Mo Sect besides Jun Aran.

She is called Huo Anle, and her every gesture bears the air of a noble lady's daughter.

Jun Aran sat up from the bed and, facing the door, said lightly, "I know, thank you, senior sister."

Huo Anle didn't take her bland tone to heart and just left.

After all, she is such a person—aloof yet polite, inscrutable, with a mercurial temperament that often gives even the master a headache.

She got up from the bed, opened the wardrobe, and changed into a dark gray T-shirt; the loose T-shirt made her look slender, with black-and-white checkered pants underneath.

Before the exquisite full-length mirror, she tied up her slightly curled mist‑blue long hair; a few wisps of fringe were lifted by the wind from outside, her thin lips and sleepy phoenix eyes exuding languor.

Half‑closed, half‑open, her eyelashes, curled like fans, blinked at her reflection.

Things are different now; before, she never tied her hair up when training, and that was languid, but having been reborn, she can't just go back to the old ways, can she?

She took a tote bag containing the clothes she wears for training, but normally she wouldn't change into them.

The Mo Sect and the Jin Sect are both within the same institute, the Linglong Institute.

The institute covers about 3.5 hectares, yet it cannot be found on any map.

She went out, stood in the hallway waiting for the elevator; when the doors opened, she saw a familiar person.

On that extremely handsome face, the brows were slightly furrowed.

Pei Yusen, her eldest senior brother.

She walked straight into the elevator without looking at him; according to the Jin Sect's rule, juniors must greet their elders, yet she outright ignored Pei Yusen.

"Why are you only going now?" his voice was light and pleasant to hear.

He watched her reflection in the elevator doors, while she stared at the doors without speaking.

Before, she used to like her senior brother a lot, but now seeing him, she feels nothing.

Does she hate him?

What happened in her past life was of her own making; it seems unrelated to her senior brother, she feels no hatred—he is merely a stranger.

Her cool eyes held their usual languor, "Just woke up."

Hearing her indifferent reply, Pei Yusen was almost speechless; she always does this, never taking anything seriously.

When the elevator doors opened, Pei Yusen strode out first with his long legs, and Jun Aran followed behind.

Leaving the dormitory building, passing through a shady path, walking about three minutes, they arrived at the "Linglong Pavilion."

The Linglong Pavilion is where they usually train.

Just after entering, the senior brothers and sisters were already standing in place.

She walked over to the far side.

The Auspicious Midnight stance, with a natural heavenly aura, aloof and proud.

Pei Yusen wore a white top, black outer coat, with slightly rolled cuffs, revealing his watch, black slim trousers; his figure was truly impeccable.

The man lowered his head, while undoing his watch, he asked, "How's the study going?"

His tone was somewhat flat, yet his eyes were a bit stern.

About twelve or thirteen people, yet only Huo Anle and Jun Aran were the two girls.

Huo Anle stood in the central position, while Jun Aran stood to the side.

"Almost ready." The speaking man was the Second Senior Brother of Fu Sect, Song Yangzhi; unlike the Eldest Senior Brother Pei Yusen, he spoke softly and gently, refined and elegant, while Pei Yusen, long in a high position, carried an aura of authority and dominance in his bones.

Jun Aran mentally called this "the aura of a hegemon."

"One sentence each." Pei Yusen said softly.

This training room is on the fifth floor, all five walls are mirrors, and Jun Aran quietly stared at the woman in the mirror.

The person standing beside her was her Third Senior Brother, Luo Yuhan.

He, too, seemed to have arrived rather late.

"How's your practice, Aran?" Luo Yuhan spoke without moving his lips.

She glanced at Luo Yuhan, looked down at the valuable floor, and Luo Yuhan gave her a smile, saying, "I haven't practiced properly."

Next up was him; he didn't even sing, just flopped down, saying nonchalantly, "I haven't practiced properly, eldest senior brother."

Seeing him prop himself up with both hands on the ground, Jun Aran recalled that in her past life, the Third Senior Brother had done the same—flopping down and passing out after about fifteen or sixteen minutes.

Pei Yusen didn't look at the man lying on the ground, stepped over him, and told Jun Aran lightly, "Sing."

"Though the peony is lovely, how does spring manage to claim precedence?" Her expression was somewhat sorrowful; the elegant lyrics came out in broken fragments from her mouth, the faint sorrow and the lyrics complementing each other.

She seemed to be Du Liniang.

Pei Yusen slightly lifted his chin, signaling her to continue singing, and Jun Aran did not hesitate.

Leisurely gazing.

Listening to the vivid swallow speech, clear as scissors.

Listening to the warbling oriole's sound, smooth and round.

Her delicate, fragmented voice carried a hint of resentment and a daughter's tenderness; from time to time one could still hear a sob or two, continuous yet broken, long and lingering; each sentence, each word could reach into people's hearts; her voice could evoke resonance in people.

Waiting for Jun A Ran to finish singing, Luo Yu Han had already been lying on the ground for a long time; his small eyes held great resentment—why sing so long? If she could end earlier, he wouldn't have to lie there so long.

Luo Yu Han had been holding on for a while; he could almost feel his muscles swelling.

A clear and solemn voice came from above his head.

"Get up."

He hurriedly thanked heaven and earth as he got up from the floor.

"A Ran sings very well; although some parts aren't quite right, but she captures the feeling well; go rest." Pei Yu Sen's current ability only lets him hear that she sings well, but he can feel that compared to what he learned and what his master taught, some of the ornamentations are different; perhaps she changed them herself.

He decided that when he had free time, he would go over it with her, word by word, line by line, polishing it; at most a week and she could be on stage.

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