I Turned Out to Be the Dead White Moonlight of the Canary - Chapter 26

Before long, Zhu Yuandong and Yan Wuyou also arrived, coincidentally running into Cheng Yuncheng at the entrance.

Seeing Cheng Yuncheng was already surprising enough, but walking in to find so many people in the room was even more unexpected.

“Song Shi’an, are you throwing a party? You didn’t even give us a heads-up. I came over without even putting on makeup,” Zhu Yuandong teased Song Shi’an with a laugh.

Song Shi’an rolled her eyes. “Does it look like it?”

Yan Wuyou chuckled and handed Song Shi’an the gift she had brought.

“Not really, but I didn’t expect it to be this lively here either,” Yan Wuyou said before turning to Yan Sheng. “Hey, little Yan Sheng, you’re here too.”

Yan Sheng gave her a shy smile—she quite liked Yan Wuyou.

Yan Wuyou gave Yan Sheng a contradictory impression. When she wasn’t smiling, there was a sense of distance about her, though not in a cold way—more like an intangible, hazy aura.

But when she smiled, she radiated warmth and sunshine—though she could also be sharp-tongued, though not as blunt as Song Shi’an.

She was different from Gu Qinghe too. Gu Qinghe’s gentleness made Yan Sheng feel somewhat unreal, though she couldn’t quite explain why.

Zhu Yuandong also greeted Yan Sheng with a smile.

Then, Yan Sheng’s gaze landed on the striking woman behind Zhu Yuandong. Tall and slender, she wore a simple black shirt with long black hair cascading down her back.

She didn’t look like the typical office worker—instead, there was a mix of formality and casualness about her.

Noticing everyone’s attention, Cheng Yuncheng smiled.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize Shi’an had guests.”

She had messaged Song Shi’an before coming, but Song Shi’an hadn’t mentioned the crowd—just replied with a simple “Welcome” and “Thanks.”

“Most of them are familiar faces. I don’t need to introduce Yuandong and Wuyou, do I?” Song Shi’an maintained basic courtesy as she smiled at Cheng Yuncheng.

Cheng Yuncheng and Song Shi’an had known each other since childhood, and the Song and Cheng families had occasional interactions.

The so-called engagement was just an offhand remark between their mothers—more of a joke between close friends than anything serious.

It hadn’t been brought up much afterward. At fifteen, Cheng Yuncheng left Cangnan City to study elsewhere, and later went abroad, so they rarely saw each other after that.

“Of course not. But who are these others?” Cheng Yuncheng glanced at Gu Qinghe, Jiang Qingtang, and Yan Sheng, nodding politely.

“Gu Qinghe, daughter of Chuang Sheng’s chairman. Jiang Qingtang, CEO of Xingyan Tech. Yan Sheng, my sister.”

The first two didn’t surprise Cheng Yuncheng—it made sense that Song Shi’an would associate with people of status.

But the last introduction was both perfunctory and oddly specific.

Cheng Yuncheng’s gaze lingered briefly on Yan Sheng’s face.

The girl was unbelievably delicate—even Cheng Yuncheng had to admit Yan Sheng’s beauty.

Everyone present was attractive, but Yan Sheng’s looks still stood out at first glance.

Cheng Yuncheng had already noticed her when she walked in, though she’d refrained from staring out of politeness.

With a faint smile, Cheng Yuncheng introduced herself to the group.

“Cheng Yuncheng.”

“Miss Cheng, I’ve long heard of your reputation.” Jiang Qingtang was the first to extend her hand.

Over the years abroad, Cheng Yuncheng had also assisted the conglomerate in managing companies.

Jiang Qingtang knew of her because Cheng Yuncheng had founded a social platform overseas, which had gained significant popularity across various countries and amassed a considerable user base.

And that was just something Cheng Yuncheng had started on a whim during her studies abroad.

When Jiang Qingtang was developing “Grey Rhythm,” she had also researched Cheng Yuncheng and couldn’t help but admire her afterward.

“Director Jiang, I’ve heard of you—very impressive.” Cheng Yuncheng had also used the “Grey Rhythm” app. At first, she only thought the name was unique, but later found it quite interesting.

Grey rhythm, but life is colorful.

Gu Qinghe also greeted Cheng Yuncheng, who was now considered the “golden child” among their circle of wealthy second-generation heirs. Naturally, Gu Qinghe had heard of her.

“Director Cheng, weren’t you overseeing the Hongxu project abroad? My mother mentioned how remarkable you were just last time,” Gu Qinghe asked with a smile.

“I just returned home. Today, I originally planned to visit Aunt Song, but she said she went traveling with Aunt Xun. Shian fractured her leg and was home alone, so I thought I’d drop by. I didn’t expect you all to be here.” Though they didn’t know each other, they conversed with effortless grace.

Before returning, Cheng Yuncheng had indeed been in charge of Hongxu’s overseas projects. She only applied to come back after those were completed.

“Why did you return?” Zhu Yuandong asked curiously.

“Abroad was just… dull,” Cheng Yuncheng replied with a helpless smile.

“That’s true.” Yan Wuyou nodded in agreement.

Occasional visits were refreshing, but living there long-term? She found it genuinely uninteresting.

Yan Sheng listened quietly to their conversation, unable to interject.

Little Yan Sheng, you’ve got to step up. Look at them—their meetup turned into a business conference.

Though Yan Sheng couldn’t contribute, she didn’t force herself to either.

I don’t have any business acumen—what am I supposed to step up for? Did they expect her to start a company? She really couldn’t.

In the original story, you later founded your own company, built a new web fiction platform, and poached many top writers. Believe in yourself—rise to the occasion!

Yan Sheng stayed silent. Honestly, she didn’t think she had the operational skills.

Besides, even if she did create a web fiction platform, would that really help her fit into their conversations? Would the revenue from such a platform even register in their eyes?

Yan Sheng suddenly felt a little proud—somehow, she’d managed to squeeze her way into this elite circle of heirs.

It’s all about connections. Even if you’re not pursuing romance, you can still make friends.  Shijiu said earnestly.

Why don’t you ever push me to complete tasks? Don’t you have any missions for me? Yan Sheng recalled that since Shijiu had bound to her, it had never assigned her any tasks.

Huh? What missions? You’re the protagonist—as long as you don’t die, isn’t that enough? Shijiu sounded puzzled.

Then why are you following me? Yan Sheng was even more confused.

To slack off, observe, and enjoy the show. I’ve never seen an ABO world where the heroine revives and differentiates into another gender. Shijiu replied bluntly.

Logically, you and Cheng Yunchang shouldn’t have met at this point. You were supposed to meet five years later, after Cheng had established herself at Hongxu. Back then, you were a pitiful screenwriter whose scripts got stolen, while she was the hottest new business tycoon. By chance, she encountered you being bullied… and thus your love-hate story began.

Yan Sheng had read the original novel, and indeed, that’s how it started. But hearing Shijiu state it so bluntly made Yan Sheng feel this was utterly ridiculous.

“Who still reads this kind of clichéd angst-filled drama?” Yan Sheng couldn’t comprehend why such tropes persisted in this day and age.

“Plenty do. Melodrama has always appealed to people’s hearts—you just don’t get it,” Shijiu waved her hand dismissively.

“Though once a novel evolves into its own world, the plot becomes irrelevant. You’re all autonomous beings now—no one strictly follows the script anymore.”

“Then why were you so worked up earlier?” Yan Sheng couldn’t help but deadpan.

When she had differentiated into an alpha and was “kept” by Song Shi’an, Shijiu had acted like the sky was falling. Yan Sheng had thought it was some grave matter.

“Isn’t that shocking enough? Gaining consciousness isn’t strange, but the female lead changing genders? That’s bizarre! And you being Song Shi’an’s kept woman? That’s downright weird—can’t I express surprise?”

Yan Sheng realized this person was just a drama queen.

As Yan Sheng and Shijiu chatted, Song Shi’an glanced at her subtly, sensing her boredom.

The conversation topics were admittedly dull.

Just as Song Shi’an was about to redirect the discussion, Gu Qinghe spoke first.

“Ladies, let’s drop the formal titles. Aside from President Cheng and President Jiang, none of us here are involved in family businesses. We’re clueless about these matters,” Gu Qinghe said with a smile.

Yan Wuyou nodded—she was just a humble artist who knew nothing about commerce.

Cheng Yunchang and Jiang Qingtang smiled sheepishly and dropped the subject.

“Just call me Yunchang.”

Jiang Qingtang added warmly, “We’re all Shi’an’s friends—Qingtang is fine.”

Yet an air of corporate elite still clung to them.

Yan Wuyou stretched and grinned at Yan Sheng. “Little Yan Sheng, want to play pool? I remember Shi’an has a table in the basement. Can you play?”

Yan Sheng shook her head shyly. “Not really. I’ve only tried once.”

“Perfect chance to practice—it’s easy.” Yan Wuyou grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the basement. Zhu Yuandong followed.

Gu Qinghe turned to Song Shi’an. “Shi’an, joining us?”

Yan Sheng glanced back and told Yan Wuyou, “Wuyou-jie, let me push jiejie’s wheelchair first. It’s hard for her.”

Yan Wuyou chuckled. “You really dote on her.”

Yan Sheng looked puzzled. “Isn’t that normal?”

Song Shi’an said nothing as Yan Sheng approached, simply allowing her to maneuver the wheelchair.

Gu Qinghe stepped aside slightly as Song Shi’an addressed Cheng and Jiang. “Coming?”

Jiang Qingtang smiled. “Absolutely. It’s been ages since I visited. You’re barely home all year.”

Their friendship had blossomed purely from living in the same neighborhood.

During a phase when Song Shi’an was obsessed with tennis, Jiang Qingtang—then less busy—had frequented the courts too. Their casual encounters gradually deepened into genuine camaraderie.

Upon reaching the basement, Yansheng discovered it was quite different from what she had imagined.

The space wasn’t enclosed or dimly lit—in fact, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked a patch of grass outside.

Inside were billiards and ping pong tables along with other recreational activities.

Confined to his wheelchair, Song Shi’an could only watch as the others played. Yansheng found herself being pulled by Yan Wuyou for an impromptu table tennis lesson.

Yan Wuyou showed remarkable patience with Yansheng.

Meanwhile, Song Shi’an sat nearby observing.

Zhu Yuandong was entertaining Gu Qinghe, who was dressed too elegantly today for any strenuous activity.

“How about some video games?” The basement was indeed fully equipped, complete with a dedicated gaming zone.

Gu Qinghe turned to ask Song Shi’an: “Care to join us?”

“No thanks, I’ve had my fill of gaming recently,” Song Shi’an declined with a shake of his head.

Yansheng’s gaze kept drifting between Song Shi’an and Gu Qinghe, sensing their lingering closeness.

In another corner, Cheng Yuncheng and Jiang Qingtang had settled down for tea.

As Yan Wuyou focused on teaching Yansheng, a bored Song Shi’an maneuvered his wheelchair over to join the tea drinkers.

Yansheng found her attention repeatedly drawn to Song Shi’an’s movements.

Yan Wuyou playfully poked her cheek: “Little Yansheng, can’t take your mind off her?”

A faint blush colored Yansheng’s cheeks: “I just worry if sister needs any help.”

“Everyone’s here, nothing to worry about. Focus—my lessons don’t come cheap.”

From across the room, Song Shi’an watched their cheerful interaction, noting how well they got along.