Face… red?
Qiao Zhen slowly widened her eyes, her little face growing even hotter in an instant.
Dreaming about the “hanky-panky” from their past life together—how could she not be embarrassed?!
That dream was only a fragment of her past life’s memories, mostly blurry, but—
Their wedding night, down to every single movement, every word, every gasp, Qiao Zhen remembered it all with crystal clarity.
She covered her face in utter mortification, the tips of her ears red enough to drip blood, and answered honestly: “I had a nightmare.”
Qin Yichi lounged lazily against the bus seat, asking casually: “What kind of nightmare?”
Qiao Zhen swallowed hard and said softly: “Qin Yichi, I dreamed that you married someone else.”
As luck would have it, that “someone else” was her!
Hearing this, Qin Yichi was momentarily stunned. He was silent for a moment, then looked straight into her eyes and said slowly, word by word:
“Impossible.”
“I won’t marry anyone else.”
His tone was absolutely certain, and even a little serious.
Qiao Zhen let out a sigh of relief and gave him a “bro, I get you” look:
“You’re a lifelong bachelor, right? Totally normal.”
As soon as she said that, Qin Yichi’s expression turned complicated. He lowered his gaze slightly, saying nothing.
They reached their stop—the main gate of Jing University.
It was the National Day holiday return, and many college students were pushing suitcases, carrying bags upon bags, as if trying to haul every bit of food from home back with them.
Qin Yichi got off the bus first, while Qiao Zhen slung her pink backpack on and trailed slowly behind him.
A heavy rainstorm had hit the night before, and where they got off there was now a large puddle of dark, muddy water with bits of plastic trash floating on the surface.
Qiao Zhen paused for two seconds, looked down at her clean white sneakers, and felt a wave of regret.
Just then, a hand with clearly defined knuckles appeared right in front of her.
“Come.”
Qin Yichi stood just beyond the puddle, reaching out to her, his expression still indifferent, as if this were just a trivial matter.
Qiao Zhen hesitated for two seconds, then took his hand.
When they were kids, she had not only ridden on Qin Yichi’s shoulders and called him Pigsy, she’d even stolen his blue-and-black striped underwear…
The warmth of Qin Yichi’s hand came through, and he gave a gentle tug. Qiao Zhen instinctively used the momentum and jumped right onto dry ground, nearly tumbling into his arms.
A fresh, clean scent unique to a young man washed over her—like the fragrance of vanilla after a spring rain. It smelled wonderful.
After Qiao Zhen had steadied herself and taken two steps, Qin Yichi finally let go and strode briskly toward the main gate of Jing University.
The warmth of his hand still lingered on hers.
Qiao Zhen looked at his tall, lean figure, and her mouth spoke before her brain could stop it, her voice sweet and soft:
“Qin Yichi, wait for me.”
The moment the words left her lips, Qin Yichi’s heels came to an abrupt stop. He turned to look at her, raising an eyebrow slightly, as if waiting.
Qiao Zhen quickened her pace to catch up, walking side by side with him into the Jing University campus.
The chubby security guard at the north gate flashed them a big smile, with a “oooh, I see” expression on his face.
Qin Yichi slowed his pace, his eyelashes trembling slightly. After a long pause, he said unhurriedly:
“Aren’t you afraid he’ll get jealous?”
Qiao Zhen paused, lowering her head.
That “he” was Ji Xian.
Since childhood, she had almost always gone to school and come home with Qin Yichi, always walking side by side—even in college, it was no different.
Until one time, Ji Xian sneered at her: “You seem pretty close with that Qin Yichi.”
The implication was clear—he wasn’t happy about it.
Qiao Zhen was afraid he’d be upset, so every time she saw Qin Yichi at school, she kept her distance and pretended not to know him, terrified that Ji Xian might misunderstand.
She offered Ji Xian her whole heart, foolishly hoping to warm him, to thaw him—yet in the dream of her past life, she’d ended up heartbroken and despondent…
Qiao Zhen felt gloomy, hanging her head and kicking a stone by the roadside like a dejected little rabbit with drooping ears.
Her throat felt tight and clogged. In that instant, it was as if countless fine silver needles were stabbing into her heart—aching and bitter.
It truly hurt, so terribly much…
At the turn of the path, a cool, aloof figure walked toward her, abruptly entering her line of sight.
Qiao Zhen’s heart stopped. She froze in place.
The young man carried an extraordinary aura, his features refined and pale, his eyes a light amber like glass, hiding brilliant stars within—so beautiful it was almost unreal.
Ji Xian.
Good looks, good grades, good family background—president of the student union at Jing University. He was the perfect campus heartthrob, the secret crush of countless girls.
He was also the person she’d once loved most at first sight, the one she’d wanted to see countless times every day.
But now—
Qiao Zhen only felt her scalp tingle, her heart sting unbearably, cold sweat breaking out all over her body as if she’d been plunged into an ice cellar.
She didn’t greet him as she used to, didn’t even offer him a smile. She just lowered her head and pretended not to see him.
Ji Xian’s gaze happened to land on Qiao Zhen and Qin Yichi.
His expression was indifferent as he walked past, as if he couldn’t care less about any of it.
Even after he’d left, Qiao Zhen remained frozen in place. A wave of bitterness spread through her body, her vision gradually blurring, her eyes turning red.
Memories from her past life surged endlessly through her mind, voices flooding in from all directions:
First, Ji Xian’s icy voice over the phone: “Qiao Zhen, I don’t agree to you becoming a singer.”
Ji Xian’s mother, smiling sweetly, said: “Zhenzhen, I’ll be direct with you—our Ji family does place great importance on matching social status. A mountain chicken can never fly up to the branch and become a phoenix, don’t you agree?”
And the mockery from Ji Xian’s friends: “No way, she doesn’t actually think she’s some Cinderella, does she?”
“Who knows where this country bumpkin came from, wearing nothing but Taobao knockoffs~”
“…”
Impatient, mocking, passive-aggressive, shrill and piercing… all the voices from her past life mixed together, forming a massive, overwhelming impact.
It was almost tearing Qiao Zhen’s head apart.
Stop talking…
Please, just stop talking!
Qiao Zhen covered her ears, squeezed her eyes shut, barely able to breathe under the suffocating weight.
Her body was completely drained of strength. She swayed violently, then fell straight backward.
The next instant, an arm caught her waist. The young man’s scorching, burning breath suddenly rushed toward her face.
Qin Yichi wrapped his arm around her slender waist, instinctively pulling her into his embrace, his gaze blazing like fire:
“Headache?”
His eyes were deep and dark. Unable to resist, he reached out and gently rubbed Qiao Zhen’s head, over and over, like soothing a frightened rabbit.
A low, husky voice drifted down from above her, as if carrying some kind of magic, lightly teasing her eardrums.
Qin Yichi stood against the light, half his face hidden in shadow, his brows deep and sharp, his bearing wild and unrestrained.
Qiao Zhen blinked, took a deep breath, and pulled herself back from the chaotic, piercing voices in her mind.
She gently broke free from his embrace and shook her head: “No—I’m fine.”
Perhaps it was because of the head pat, but the pain gradually receded, and a sense of safety filled her frantic heart.
Qiao Zhen did not look back this time, showing no trace of reluctance, quietly following Qin Yichi as they walked forward.
It was as if she had silently made some kind of resolution.
Behind them, Ji Xian’s footsteps came to an abrupt halt.
He turned around, gazing at the retreating figures of the two, a layer of icy frost instantly covering his eyes as his face suddenly darkened…