At the start, I had to choose one of four options, and I immediately picked the Brahmin from the cou

Xu Manman stood at the entrance of the booth, the sequins on her rhinestone skirt sparkling under the laser lights, like a peacock whose feathers had been plucked.

Her face flushed crimson, her chest heaving violently, and she was still holding the martini she had taken from the bar, water droplets dripping from the glass between her fingers.

Several people in the surrounding booths were already looking this way. A few girls who were pretending to take pictures of the dance floor with their phones had actually turned their cameras to point the camera at V01.

"Wang Yali, Zhou Xin—you'd better think this through."

Xu Manman's voice was squeezed out from between her teeth, completely losing the sweet tone she had when she first entered. In its place was a sharp and hoarse voice, as if she had been cornered.

"How have I treated you? Who helped you get your internship reports stamped by the academic affairs office? Who took you to the hot springs last winter? Now you turn your backs on me? Who do you think you are? You're nothing but dogs at Lin Miaomiao's feet!"

She felt a sense of relief when she said those last words. But the relief lasted less than a second before she saw Lin Miaomiao stand up from beside Zheng Hao.

Lin Miaomiao stood up slowly, not suddenly after being provoked, but with a calm and composed demeanor, as if she were completely in control of the rhythm, as she slowly rose from the sofa.

Her black off-the-shoulder dress, bathed in the warm light of the booth, resembled a piece of satin soaked in the night. Her long, burgundy hair slid from her shoulders down her back as she stood up, revealing the soft curve of her nape. She walked up to Xu Manman, stopping less than two steps away, and then gave a very slight smile.

"Am I the dog at Lin Miaomiao's feet?"

Lin Miaomiao turned her head, her gaze slowly sweeping over Wang Yali and Zhou Xin before finally settling on Xu Manman's face.

"Ask them, in 404, who's the dog?"

Even Zheng Hao was taken aback by these words.

In his memory, although Lin Miaomiao was smart, she always gave her roommates face in public. She took them to get their hair done, buy clothes, and enter the black card area. Even for Wang Yali and Zhou Xin, who joined her halfway, she only said that she would see how they performed.

Now she's speaking so bluntly in front of the two people in the booth.

Wang Yali stood up.

She was wearing that pink knitted suit today, and her hair was styled in Korean waves. She looked several levels more sophisticated than usual, but her calves were still trembling when she stood up.

She walked up to Xu Manman, took a deep breath, and her voice was a little unsteady at first, but became more and more stable as she spoke:

"Xu Manman, you call yourself nice to us? What you mean by being nice to us is having us carry your bags, save you seats, get food for you from the cafeteria, and then squat under the table to hold your milk tea while you're taking pictures. You treated us to a hot spring—that's because your boyfriend stood you up, and you felt embarrassed going alone, so you dragged us along as extras. You helped us get stamps from the academic affairs office—that's because you had to retake an exam, and you handed in our forms along with it, and then you made us treat you to spicy hot pot for a month. You call that being nice?"

Wang Yali's words came out like a machine gun, each sentence carrying six months' worth of pent-up resentment.

She spoke louder and louder until she was almost shouting, her eyes were red and swollen, but there was no hesitation in her voice.

Xu Manman's face turned from red to white, then from white to pale, her knuckles gripping the wine glass turning completely white. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but Wang Yali didn't give her a chance to interrupt.

"besides."

Wang Yali took half a step forward and raised her hand to wipe away the tears that hadn't yet fallen from the corner of her eye.

"You just said we're Lin Miaomiao's dogs. Let me tell you, even if we were dogs, we'd rather serve someone who treats us like human beings than be used as rags by a rich girl like you. You want to sit in this booth? Fine—ask Miaomiao if she agrees. If she agrees, we'll have no problem. If she doesn't, you can forget about stepping through this door tonight."

Zhou Xin also stood up.

She wasn't as eloquent as Wang Yali, but she showed her stance through her actions—she walked behind Lin Miaomiao, stood there with a tense expression, and stared intently at Xu Manman. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, but her chin was slightly raised, a posture that clearly said: I stand with Lin Miaomiao.

Why are Wang Yali and Zhou Xin so bold?

In truth, they knew better than anyone else. But there was nothing they could do; Lin Miaomiao had given them far too much.

In the materialistic Jianye Art Academy, friendships between girls often come with a clear price tag. They used to think Xu Manman was the pinnacle of success, because she could treat them to Japanese food costing 200 yuan per person and casually toss them her tired-out luxury bags for days. But today, when Lin Miaomiao swiped her card at Deji Plaza without batting an eye, and when that Tom Ford lipstick with its sophisticated fragrance was so casually shoved into their hands, their worldview was completely reshaped.

This is the difference between those in power and the nouveau riche. Xu Manman's "goodness" is based on condescending charity and endless demands; while Lin Miaomiao's "giving," although also purposeful, allows them to truly touch the threshold of the so-called "top circle".

Moreover, they have now completely offended Xu Manman.

There's no turning back now. If I back down now and go back to room 405, I'll not only face even more of Xu Manman's scorn, isolation, and bullying, but I'll also completely lose Lin Miaomiao, my pillar of support. Rather than ending up with nothing, I'd rather go all the way!

Wang Yali glanced furtively at the men sitting in the booth—the Richard Miller watch on Zheng Hao's wrist, reflecting a cold light; Lao Xu's Porsche car keys casually tossed on the marble table; and Wang Lei's nonchalant attitude when he played the Ace of Spades without even blinking.

These are all resources available to them, representing a social class that they could never reach on their own in their lifetime.

As for true love?

Wang Yali gave a cold, sarcastic laugh to herself. Perhaps in high school, there could still be pure love. Back then, boys in clean white shirts would ride their bicycles, carrying her along tree-lined paths at sunset; a cup of milk tea costing a dozen yuan could bring a whole day of joy and emotion.

However, once you get to university, especially at Jianye Art Academy, which is already halfway into the world of fame and fortune, everything changes.

The evening breeze on the back of a bicycle can't compare to the air conditioning in the passenger seat of a Porsche; a milk tea costing a dozen yuan seems as cheap as a joke compared to the SPACE Black Card booths that often have a minimum spend of 30,000 yuan.

When girls around them are competing to see whose boyfriend gives them the most expensive bags or whose weekends are spent in five-star hotels, the so-called "pure love" becomes the most useless and pathetic fig leaf.

If they can hook up with one of these rich young men at this gathering tonight, even if it's just to be used as "entertainment" by these rich kids for a few months, the benefits they can reap are enough to save them ten years of hard work. They'll be set for life. That's the harsh reality.