Chapter 4: Isn't It Just Being a Green Tea?

"Zhou Yinghe's doing well, huh!" Wen Ling snorted.

The man snorted and hung up.

Two days later, Wen Ling sat before the mirror, letting the stylist arrange her long hair.

Stylist Alan was specially brought back from M Country by her, living next door with the maids and butlers, to style her outfits daily.

Alan lifted a strand of Wen Ling's hair, curled it with a curling iron; lowering his gaze, he saw a conspicuous red mark on the side of her slender neck, caused by her overly fair skin.

"Miss, your neck…" Alan hesitated.

Wen Ling lifted her eyes through the mirror to look at him, her beautiful brows slightly furrowed, and asked: "What's wrong?"

Alan pointed to the red mark; Wen Ling leaned close to the mirror and glanced, seeing a rather obvious red imprint—those unaware might think she'd done something nice last night.

Wen Ling touched the red mark, feeling a bit itchy, and said: "Probably bitten by something; it's fine, just let my hair down."

Alan agreed; Wen Ling lowered her eyes to her phone, suddenly thinking of something, she smirked mischievously, looked up at Alan and said: "No need to cover it; help me pin my hair up."

Alan looked at her in surprise in the mirror; Wen Ling blinked playfully and said: "Listen to me, pin it up."

Following the miss's order, Alan felt it improper but didn't object, so he styled Wen Ling's hair into a lovely low bun, a few strands falling onto her collarbones, giving a disheveled yet gentle beauty.

Wen Ling satisfiedly examined herself in the mirror; Alan brought over an ivory satin mermaid dress from beside her and asked: "Miss, does this dress suit today's hairstyle?"

Wen Ling trusted Alan's eye, took it and went to the changing room to put it on.

Standing before the full-length mirror in the changing room, Wen Ling lightly traced her neck with her finger; the fish‑tail dress had a shallow V‑neck, just enough to reveal that suggestive red mark.

Wen Ling gave a light smile, picked up her handbag, and left.

The celebration at Hua University was exceptionally grand, not only alumni of all years but also current popular stars came to perform.

At that moment, luxury cars gathered outside the gate, yet as Wen Ling's car approached and entered the campus directly, they all cast curious glances.

Such cars are rare, and even rarer is the breathtaking beauty who steps out of one outside the auditorium.

Wen Ling glanced around, returning a polite smile to the curious onlookers staring at her.

She walked slowly into the auditorium; at that moment people were gathered in small groups. In her two years as an exchange student, she actually wasn't close with her classmates, and after not seeing them for years they'd all changed so much she didn't know who was who.

Then three girls huddled together, as if deliberately speaking for her to hear; their sarcastic tones could be heard from afar.

"Isn't that Wen Ling, the young lady of the Wen family? She's back from M Country? The school actually invited her?"

"She relied on her good background and boyfriend to commit campus violence back then, bringing people to bully Ruan MiaoMiao; many saw it, which is why she slunk back to M Country, and now she has the nerve to return."

"Shh, keep it down—she's a Wen Family member, not someone we can provoke."

"What's there to fear? Sure, the Wen Family is prominent in M Country, but in Sijiucheng we're surrounded by aristocratic clans—I'm not afraid of her. Besides, the Wen Family didn't choose her as heir but picked an adoptee; that clearly shows she's not favored in the Wen Family."

Wen Ling smiled gently as she took a glass of champagne from the waiter's tray, her heels clicking crisply on the smooth floor; she walked slowly until she stood behind the three, then softly asked: "Excuse me, are you talking about me? I'm curious—could you repeat it for me?"

The three turned in unison, faces filled with terror, looking at Wen Ling as if she were some flood beast.

Wen Ling gave the three a helpless smile: "Sorry, I overheard by accident." She stepped forward again, drawing closer, and whispered: "Or would you like to say it again? I'd like to hear whether you're right or wrong; if you're wrong, I can tell you, so that when you go out spouting nonsense you won't be laughed at as talking nonsense."

"You!" the woman in the pink dress flared, stepping back and pointing at Wen Ling; before she could curse, her finger was gently seized by a slender, fair hand and sharply bent downward.

"Since you accuse me of campus violence, I'll certainly make this charge stick—let you taste what real violence is."

The woman screamed in pain; as Wen Ling pressed harder, her body twisted more, cold sweat ruining her carefully done makeup; she couldn't bear it and pleaded: "Sorry! Sorry, Miss Wen, I was spouting nonsense—sorry, let me go, please!"

"Miss, remember to watch your mouth next time out." Wen Ling suddenly released her; the woman collapsed to the ground, and the other women who had been gossiping rushed to help her up, afraid to look at Wen Ling.

"Oh," Wen Ling's mind flashed, finally placing the three; she asked softly: "Aren't you the three who used to follow Ruan MiaoMiao back then? How come? Now that Ruan MiaoMiao is a rising little flower who's climbed high, you've risen with her?"

The woman wanted to retort, but the blue‑dress woman helping her covered her mouth, whispering: "No matter what she says, she's a Wen; if you keep scolding her, she'll surely have people cause trouble for your family!"

The woman had no choice but to resentfully shut her mouth; Wen Ling raised her brows, about to say more, when a cold male voice, tinged with reprimand, cut her off.

"Wen Ling, what are you doing!"

Wen Ling turned her head; it was Shen Yusheng, Shen senior, a classmate of Zhou Yinghe.

The look of contempt on his face vanished instantly; Wen Ling gazed at him innocently as he approached.

"Wen Ling, are you bullying a classmate?" Shen Yusheng looked at her disappointedly: "You weren't like this before—could it really be that you were just pretending all along, as they say?"

Wen Ling secretly rolled her eyes, bit her lower lip slightly, her eyes reddening; her voice carried resentment and fluster.

"Senior Shen, I didn't bully them; they insulted me and wanted to hit me, so I fought back."

"Isn't it just being a green tea? I can do that too."

Shen Yusheng had arrived late and missed the girls' sarcastic remarks; he only saw that the pink‑dress woman had indeed raised her hand first, only for Wen Ling to grab and twist it back, he frowned, puzzled as to why he instinctively felt Wen Ling was bullying others.

Seeing his state, Wen Ling continued with a grievance: "Senior, I really didn't bully them."

Shen Yusheng felt ashamed of his reflex; his handsome, fair face flushed red.

"Sorry, I misunderstood you."

Wen Ling couldn't be bothered to argue with someone who's been set up to be restrained; she said magnanimously: "It's fine, Senior." After speaking, she muttered: "Anyway, I'm already used to being misunderstood."