Rumor Has It I Don’t Follow A-Class Morals - Chapter 7

The video Xu Bu sent over was a bit dark—probably because the phone’s camera wasn’t very good. The people in the footage all looked kind of strange, and under the flashing, colorful lights, it was even harder to make out anything clearly.

In the video, about a dozen girls in skimpy outfits stood huddled along the wall. Their faces looked tense and dazed, and their barely-there clothes clung tightly to their young bodies, emphasizing their curves.

The men and women lounging on the sofas watched them with interest. Some even let out excited whistles.

The girls looked nervous and stiff. Xu Bu told them not to move around too much.

“Ming-jie, these are our new little O’s,” Xu Bu said, zooming in on the girls’ faces one by one. “All young and pretty. When you come over, we’ll take good care of you!”

As the red and green lights flickered across the screen, Ming Muyao noticed a girl standing in the corner, close to the wall. She glanced timidly at the camera. Her features looked a bit like Su Yin’s.

Same round eyes, same light-colored eyebrows. Her light blonde hair was neither long nor short, loosely draped behind her shoulders.

After watching the video, Ming Muyao suddenly understood why Su Yin didn’t want a divorce, why she didn’t want to end up in a place like that.

In places like this, those girls were treated more like livestock than human beings—lined up to be picked over, with no dignity whatsoever.

Ming Muyao didn’t even bother replying to Xu Bu’s message. She shifted her attention to the computer screen in front of her.

She realized that in this world, many basic websites still worked. Maybe the author had used a lot of modern elements when creating this universe. So, for Ming Muyao, using the computer wasn’t too difficult or confusing.

The screen displayed her personal online information, including her Weibo profile and social media posts.

Originally from an ordinary family, the “original” Ming Muyao had started her own business after graduating college with a few classmates. They built an online trading platform that eventually became the largest in the country. After making a fortune, she moved into traditional industries.

At a young age, she had already become one of the country’s top entrepreneurs. Her company had gone public, and her net worth was ranked in the national top ten.

Ming Muyao leaned back in her chair, staring at the photo on the screen—her old self in a black suit and coat, sunglasses on, hair slicked back, striding forward like she owned the world.

Seriously… a total boss lady.

Her head started to hurt. Back in her original world, she was just a regular person—a mid-level project manager at a big company. Running an empire? That felt way out of her league.

The more she thought about it, the more her headache worsened. I’m probably going to lose sleep over this for a long time…

The next morning, Ming Muyao didn’t wake up until after 9 a.m.

Maybe it was because she’d been resting a lot these days. Normally an early riser, she’d been sleeping like the dead lately.

She got up and pulled on a robe before heading to the bathroom to wash up.

Brushing her teeth wasn’t too bad—her electric toothbrush basically did the work for her, and she could still manage it with her left hand. But washing her face was another story.

She couldn’t get her injured hand wet, and she couldn’t even wring out a towel on her own. Looking at the towel and then at the faucet, she sighed helplessly and decided to ask for help.

As soon as she opened the door, she saw Aunt Chen mopping the floor downstairs and called out, “Aunt Chen, can you help me wring out a towel? My hand’s not really working right now.”

Aunt Chen looked up and smiled. “You’re awake! Just leave the towel there—I’ll come help.”

Hearing voices, Su Yin poked her head out from the kitchen. She looked up at Ming Muyao with a conflicted expression, as if she wanted to offer help but didn’t dare. In the end, she could only stand there and watch as Aunt Chen headed upstairs.

Aunt Chen came into the bathroom, soaked the towel in warm water, wrung it out, and handed it to her. “What would you like to eat this morning?”

While wiping her face, Ming Muyao asked, “What did you guys have for breakfast?”

“Steamed dumplings and shumai.”

“All gone?”

“…Uh, there are some leftovers. We were planning to heat them up for lunch, so they don’t go to waste.”

“If there’s still some left, just warm up a bit for me,” Ming Muyao said. “I really like steamed dumplings and shumai.”

Aunt Chen was already stressed out by all of Ming Muyao’s strange behavior these past few days. She froze for a moment, then nodded. “Alright, I’ll warm them up in a bit.”

After finishing up, Ming Muyao let Aunt Chen head downstairs to prepare breakfast.

It was a weird in-between time—not quite breakfast, not quite lunch. So she just asked for a little something to fill her stomach.

While waiting, Ming Muyao grabbed a black hair tie from the vanity and started fiddling with her look.

The original Ming Muyao had loved big, voluminous curls. Her jet-black hair was beautifully maintained, shiny and smooth under the sun. Her clothing style leaned masculine—lots of suits and ties in the closet, even some men’s coats. She also liked slicked-back hairstyles.

But with her current sharp features, that kind of look just made her seem hostile. When she smiled, it came off creepy. The whole vibe was kind of sinister.

So Ming Muyao brushed her hair out and tied it into a loose low ponytail. She left a few soft strands by her temples to frame her face. The result was a gentler look that softened her expression, making her appear less aggressive.

She studied her reflection in the mirror. Much better than the past couple of days.

When she went downstairs for breakfast, Aunt Chen paused for a second at the sight of her new hairstyle. But she didn’t say anything and quickly placed the reheated shumai and steamed dumplings on the table, along with a bowl of porridge.

Su Yin stood nearby, her eyes flicking between Ming Muyao’s face and her hairstyle.

Today… she looks so gentle.

She didn’t know why that thought popped into her head. Ever since she met Ming Muyao, “gentle” was never a word that came to mind. But today, it somehow felt fitting.

Ming Muyao had always been beautiful, but also cruel—scary, even.

But lately, she had been smiling at Su Yin more, and being gentler. It made Su Yin start to wonder… what if things could stay like this?

But she also knew this wouldn’t last. Maybe tomorrow, maybe next month, Ming Muyao would revert to her old self—cold and vicious, listing all the mistakes Su Yin had made, locking her back in that dark little room.

Clatter—

The sound snapped Su Yin out of her thoughts. She looked up to see Ming Muyao staring at a pair of chopsticks on the floor, frowning.

To be fair, using chopsticks with her left hand was no easy task.

Su Yin looked at the fallen chopsticks, then at Ming Muyao. She finally mustered up the courage to walk over, bend down, and pick them up. “I’ll go get you a new pair,” she said quietly.

Ming Muyao gave a helpless smile. “Even if you do, I won’t be able to use them.”

She held up her right hand, the palm wrapped in thick bandages. Su Yin stared at it in a daze.

Hearing the commotion, Aunt Chen came over. Seeing the chopsticks on the floor, she slapped her forehead. “Ah, I forgot your hand’s injured. Why’d I even give you chopsticks? I’ll go grab a spoon or a fork instead.”

Ming Muyao glanced at Su Yin and nodded helplessly.

When Aunt Chen returned with a spoon and a fork, Ming Muyao tried them out. But the shumai were too big, and the dumplings too slippery. Neither wanted to cooperate, and she ended up looking pretty clumsy.

Su Yin couldn’t take it anymore. She cautiously stepped forward and said, “Let me help you.”

Ming Muyao looked at her, smiled, and handed over the spoon.

But instead of using it, Su Yin set the spoon aside, went to the kitchen for a new pair of chopsticks, then came back and sat down beside her. She picked up a steamed dumpling, cupped it in her hand, and brought it up to Ming Muyao’s lips.

The dumplings were filled with shrimp and just the right size—bite-sized.

After feeding her three dumplings, Ming Muyao said, “Can I have a bite of shumai?”

Only then did Su Yin realize she’d only been feeding her dumplings. She quickly picked up a shumai and brought it to Ming Muyao’s mouth—but pressed a little too hard. The shumai smushed against her lips, leaving them damp.

Ming Muyao instinctively turned her head, and the shumai dropped to the floor with a plop.

“I’m sorry!”

Su Yin’s face went pale. She jumped to her feet, completely flustered.

Ming Muyao looked at the limp shumai on the floor, sighed, and said, “What a waste…”

Su Yin’s expression turned even paler, her eyes filled with fear.

Ming Muyao was stunned for a moment. She didn’t know what she’d said wrong to make Su Yin react like that.

“I’m not blaming you,” she quickly explained. “I just thought it was a shame to waste food, that’s all. You don’t have to be scared.”

She grabbed a tissue, picked up the shumai from the floor, and tossed it in the trash. Then she wiped the floor clean and turned to Su Yin with a gentle voice. “See? All taken care of. No big deal.”

Su Yin still looked shaken, but when she saw that Ming Muyao wasn’t mad—and was even comforting her—her fear eased up a little.

What on earth has this girl been through, to get this terrified over dropping a shumai…

Ming Muyao pulled her over to sit back down. “I’m not going to get mad over little things like this,” she said. “You don’t need to be so afraid.”

Su Yin nodded and sat down again, breathing shallowly.

Just then, Ming Muyao noticed some bruising on Su Yin’s wrist. She stared at it for a few seconds before asking, “Did you hurt your wrist?”

Su Yin looked confused.

Ming Muyao pointed at the faint purplish mark peeking out from her sleeve. “Can you roll up your sleeve and let me take a look?”