They sat in the second row, while the first row consisted of school leaders, some education bureau officials, and sponsoring parents.
Shen Beian suddenly remembered that there seemed to be a conflict between the real and fake heiresses in this military training performance.
The gist of it is that the real heiress is going to perform the piano on stage, while the fake heiress and her friends are gossiping and saying that the real heiress doesn't have a dress and they can lend her a dress from G brand.
Then the real heiress brought out a custom-made piece by the internationally renowned designer, Miss.Yu.
Yes, it's another identity the female lead has.
They slapped the fake heiress and her girlfriends in the face.
I reckon this scene is probably playing out backstage right now; it's just a shame we can't watch it in person.
He, Shen Bei'an, is a lazy, rich second-generation heir who loves watching plays.
With her hands resting on the table, her slender, white fingers tapped one after another on her smooth face, her peach-blossom eyes gazing ahead, lost in thought.
Only the stage area in the auditorium was brightly lit; the rest of the hall was relatively dark.
But there are people who shine even brighter than that light.
Many people held their breath, afraid of disturbing the beauty's thoughts.
Shen Bei'an was already used to the many restrained gazes that were fixed on him but quickly disappeared.
In the real world, there are many similar cases, some blatant, some more restrained, and even his older siblings wanted to send him out to make money.
In this world, there are also many people who covet it.
But it was only for a moment. When many people thought of Shen Bei'an's identity, they would suppress any thoughts they shouldn't have.
Finally, the performance began.
The host gives the same opening remarks every year, followed by student performances, as well as performances by celebrities and idols, and even a theatrical troupe.
If he remembered correctly, the female lead's piano solo was the second to last performance.
Perhaps because he had drunk too much, Shen Beian lazily patted Sheng Jingchen next to him and said, "I'm going to the restroom."
Sheng Jingchen was watching the girl group's energetic dance on stage when he heard Shen Bei'an's voice and immediately snapped back to reality. "I'll stay with you," he said, getting up to speak.
Shen Bei'an waved his hand repeatedly, "No need, I'll be back in a bit."
Sheng Jingchen sighed, "Alright, wear the analog watch, turn on the location function, and contact me anytime if anything happens." He kept nagging.
The analog watch is similar to a mobile phone, with a not-too-wide watchband. It is similar to a hologram, displayed in the air, but not everyone can see it; only the user can see it, which effectively protects the user's privacy.
Because mobile phones are sometimes inconvenient, this analog watch was invented.
"I know, why are you nagging?" Before Sheng Jingchen could say anything more, Shen Beian had already strode away.
Shen Beian was already used to this kind of concern.
He knew that the original owner's arrogance stemmed from three parts spoiling by family, three parts spoiling by friends, and the remaining four parts spoiling by Gu Nanyan.
She wanted to do everything herself so that Shen Beian wouldn't get tired at all.
Shen Bei'an sometimes felt like a child in front of them. Even though Sheng Jingchen was the youngest of the four, they all treated him like a child, the kind of child who wanted to be tied to their pants.
Shen Bei'an was very familiar with Qingjin High School, and there were quite a few students along the way.
Qingjin High School is very open and doesn't force students to come. They can come if they want, or play outside if they don't want to, or leave halfway through the visit.
It's meant to serve students and help them relax, so it won't upset them. That would be putting the cart before the horse.
Shen Beian turned on the tap and skillfully used the seven-step handwashing method, while faintly hearing some unpleasant noises coming from the side.
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