He delivered his harsh words with absolute resolution, yet his long, dense eyelashes trembled uncontrollably.
Lin Shuxue raised her eyes and fell into a prolonged silence—so long that Jiang Zong grew somewhat impatient, frowning as he leaned his weight against the edge of the shooting counter.
With one long leg extended and the other planted firmly, the slim-fit tracksuit sharply outlined his clean-cut build, emphasizing his broad shoulders and narrow waist.
“Two eyes, one nose, and one mouth.”
Jiang Zong didn’t catch it clearly. “What?”
Lin Shuxue raised her volume slightly, repeating in a gentle tone, “I said, you still have two eyes, one nose, and one mouth. What exactly is different?”
After a long pause, she heard the man beside her let out a laugh laced with a touch of exasperated amusement. His eyes, with their slightly upturned outer corners, once again pooled with that trace of a wicked, roguish smile.
“Who would have thought you were just infatuated with my face.”
At some unknown point, Jiang Zong had picked up the air rifle resting on the counter again to play with it. He raised his jaw in a lazy, casual tilt, his tone brimming with playful banter.
Lin Shuxue gave up trying to reason with this kind of patient, merely treating his words as sleep-talking.
She figured Jiang Zong must be quite satisfied with her answer. Otherwise, why would he pull that cynical, playboy facade back over himself and pretend as if nothing had happened?
Her mind was still echoing with the series of things Guo Peng had said earlier regarding Jiang Zong’s family. Connecting it to the information Meng Shuyin had mentioned about Professor Shu, she understood exactly why Jiang Zong had lost control of his emotions today.
Anyone who saw the perpetrator behind their suffering strutting arrogantly into their own university wouldn’t be in a particularly good mood.
That was why he knew so clearly that the journalism major had a lecture scheduled for today.
However…
Lin Shuxue let out a soft sigh in her heart. She lifted the air rifle that had been set aside and, mimicking the method Jiang Zong had taught her, focused all her attention on aiming through the scope.
Jiang Zong didn’t make another sound. Resting his weight on a corner of the shooting counter with his arms crossed, his quiet gaze settled on her.
For a moment, it actually carried a distinct sense of peaceful, quiet years.
“A beginner holding a gun for a long time can easily end up with sore shoulder muscles.”
Jiang Zong dropped the line behind her in a slow, deliberate manner.
Lin Shuxue blinked her eyes, which had grown somewhat strained and sore from staring into the scope for too long.
She heard the sound of the person behind her walking away with sauntering steps.
It was just that her performance here had finally started to improve, allowing her to stabilize her shots around the eight and nine-ring marks. With her competitive spirit ignited, she had no spare time to care about where he had gone.
It wasn’t until the soreness in her shoulders spread down to her arms, making her gun-holding hands unable to stabilize the bullseye, that Lin Shuxue reluctantly put down the air gun.
Finding Jiang Zong was actually very simple. Out of so many divided zones, whichever section had its lights turned on was exactly where he would be.
Consequently, without a shred of hesitation, Lin Shuxue walked straight toward the direction of the rock climbing gym.
The moment she stepped into the climbing gym, a patch of bright, eye-catching red hair captured Lin Shuxue’s attention first.
Noticing her arrival, Guo Peng greeted her warmly, “Little sister, have a seat over here!”
Lin Shuxue sat down beside him, watching Jiang Zong, who was already nearing the top of the climbing wall not far away.
Dressed entirely in black, his movements were clean and agile; one look was enough to tell he was well-practiced.
The sore sensation in her shoulders flared up again, and Lin Shuxue gently pressed down on the area with her palm.
Seeing this, Guo Peng spoke up, “You like shooting?”
Lin Shuxue raised her eyes, returning his question with a smile. “I think it’s quite interesting.”
Both the process of aiming and the exact split-second of pulling the trigger felt profoundly novel to Lin Shuxue.
Guo Peng was exceptionally enthusiastic. “Then come over to play often in the future! I won’t charge you a dime.”
Lin Shuxue gave a polite smile, not taking the offer to heart.
Vaguely sensing that someone seemed to be watching her, Lin Shuxue tilted her head to look over. Jiang Zong had already reached the summit, hanging from a rock hold with a single hand while using his other foot as a leverage point. His gaze was dark and unreadable.
Although she couldn’t clearly discern the expression on Jiang Zong’s face, Lin Shuxue could somehow vividly imagine him right now with his eyelids drooping, the emotions swirling within his pitch-black pupils bound to be anything but pleasant.
Beside her, Guo Peng cast a downward glance at the timer on his device.
“Five minutes and thirty-four seconds. You’ve slowed down, Young Jiang!”
What responded to him was Jiang Zong flipping him a middle finger from afar.
Guo Peng grinned. Pointing at a certain someone on the distant summit who was currently turning around to climb back down, he said to Lin Shuxue, “Little sister, don’t look at how he’s studying robotics or whatever machine-related thing now. Do you know what he wanted to be most in the past?”
Guo Peng hadn’t actually intended to wait for Lin Shuxue’s answer, yet he heard the girl speak in a soft, yet utterly certain voice.
“A police officer.”
“…Ah, right, a police officer.” Guo Peng rubbed his nose sheepishly. “He even told you about this, huh.”
Lin Shuxue felt the way Guo Peng looked at her shift once again, taking on a few extra layers of an unusual implication largely translating to: He even told you about this, and you two still claim there’s nothing going on?
She shook her head silently in her heart. How was she supposed to explain that these matters were things Jiang Zong himself didn’t even remember telling her?
Suddenly, a figure materialized in front of her.
The stray hairs across Jiang Zong’s forehead were drenched in sweat, curling in messy, disorganized clusters.
Looking at the clear-eyed, laughing, and seemingly heartless little girl before him, he felt a bit of an itch in his teeth out of sheer irritation.
Even though he knew perfectly well that her claim of liking him was merely a perfunctory excuse to smooth things over, he had simply never seen someone play so joyfully by herself in the shooting range that she completely banished him to the back of her mind.
Tsk. It made him inexplicably annoyed.
When Young Master Jiang was annoyed, he naturally resorted to making things difficult for others.
Thus, he opened his mouth in a lazy tone.
“Let’s go. I’m taking you back.”
“So soon?” Lin Shuxue was surprised.
The person in front of her curved one corner of his mouth upward, looking down at her from his superior height.
“Still haven’t played enough?”
Lin Shuxue wanted to say something more, but Guo Peng suddenly chimed in, “What’s the rush? Why don’t you stay over for a meal? It’s a newly bought barbecue grill; the more people we have, the livelier it’ll be.”
Jiang Zong swept a cold, icy glare over to him. Guo Peng scratched his head.
“What’s with that look you’re giving me? Am I disrupting the two-person world between you and Sister Lin?”
Lin Shuxue hurriedly shook her head.
“No, no. We are…”
“If you don’t want your mouth anymore, you can keep spinning tales,” Jiang Zong snapped back at Guo Peng with an annoyed tone.
Guo Peng sheepishly pursed his lips together.
Immediately after, he ushered them to eat.
On the drive back, the driver had already left ahead of time.
It was Jiang Zong who drove the car.
Lin Shuxue had originally intended to sit in the back seat, just as they had done on the way there.
However, seeing the young master’s entirely dark and cold facial expression, she had no choice but to walk around to the passenger side and sit down.
Outside the car window, the sky gradually darkened. Despite Jiang Zong’s intentional effort to speed up, by the time they pushed through the rush and arrived at the university, nightfall had already blanketed the campus.
Seeing Jiang Zong following closely behind her every step of the way, evidently putting on a full posture of escorting her right down to her dormitory building, Lin Shuxue halted her steps.
She turned around and suggested, “Actually, I can head back by myself.”
Jiang Zong raised an eyebrow. “Am I too embarrassing to be seen in public?”
Lin Shuxue was bewildered, completely failing to grasp how he had suddenly dragged the conversation into this territory.
Jiang Zong half-closed his eyes, lifting his brow bone as he spoke in a leisurely, unhurried manner.
“Otherwise, why are you so impatient to draw a clear line between us?”
Lin Shuxue was struck speechless, entirely abandoning any thoughts of arguing with him.
“Then suit yourself.”
The female dormitory buildings and the male dormitory buildings were positioned at opposite ends of the campus, one in the east and one in the west, separated by a massive distance. Since he was perfectly willing to take the long way around, there was nothing she could do about it.
Fewer students were returning to the dormitories at this hour, leaving the road sparsely populated. The dim streetlights cast Jiang Zong’s shadow behind them, dragging it out into a long, pitch-black silhouette.
It truly is a presence that cannot be ignored, just like its owner, Lin Shuxue silently complained in her heart.
It was already early autumn, and the autumn night carried a slight chill. The wind caused the white birches along the path to rustle and sway. Lin Shuxue vaguely caught a dark cluster of shadows flitting past out of her peripheral vision.
She instinctively froze in her tracks.
Her back bumped right against someone’s chest.
It was a bit hard.
It instantly caused Lin Shuxue to recall the sensation of her wrist brushing against him at the bar that day.
A trace of a faint flush crept onto the tips of her ears.
The man’s deep timbre floated down from above her head.
“What’s wrong?”
Simultaneously, Lin Shuxue clearly discerned the two people standing within the shadows of the trees.
A few fragments of moonlight cascaded down upon them, vividly reflecting the image of the two individuals caught in a passionate, embracing kiss.
…The heat that hadn’t even dissipated from Lin Shuxue’s earlobes flared up once again.
In truth, she had stumbled upon scenes of young couples locked in deep affection beneath the dormitory buildings no less than seven or eight times.
Perhaps it was because Jiang Zong’s breathing behind her was too distinct, throwing her into a state of internal disarray, that seeing this imagery made her automatically feel embarrassed on behalf of the parties involved.
Jiang Zong evidently also saw with absolute clarity what the two people beneath the tree not far away were doing.
His chest vibrated slightly, and the laughter that escaped him carried a distinct note of playfulness.
“Stopping specifically to peer at someone’s corner?”
Lin Shuxue was made a bit frantic by his teasing. “No, I only stopped because I saw a cluster of dark shadows.”
Regrettably, while Jiang Zong’s mouth spared her, his gaze did not.
Bearing the brunt of his burning, half-smiling gaze, Lin Shuxue wished she could conjure up a teleportation door and vanish on the spot right then and there.
Fortunately, it didn’t take long to reach the dormitory building. Lin Shuxue practically swiped her card and dashed inside at a light jog.
Watching the little girl’s fleeing figure in the night, a smile drifted across Jiang Zong’s features entirely unbidden.
When Lin Shuxue returned to the room, her other two roommates were both present.
The moment she stepped through the door, Meng Shuyin’s eyes—which practically burned with the soul of gossip—pinned her flat against the spot.
Pity her; having just escaped from Jiang Zong’s “tiger’s mouth,” she had plunged straight into Meng Shuyin’s “wolf’s claws.”
“Don’t tell me you stayed together with Jiang Zong until this exact moment before coming back!!!”
Carrying a slight trace of guilt, Lin Shuxue nodded her head.
She could vaguely feel that Meng Shuyin didn’t particularly like Jiang Zong. Especially since she had abandoned her roommate today to go find him, facing Meng Shuyin’s interrogation now naturally made her feel somewhat apologetic.
“Where did you find him? What did you two go off and do? Confess honestly!”
Amid her shock, Meng Shuyin didn’t forget to press the interrogation.
On the other side, He Xicun, who had been focused on scrolling through Douyin, poked her head out from behind her bed curtain upon hearing the commotion.
Lin Shuxue didn’t state that they were at the piano room, merely keeping the location vague by saying it was the university’s activity plaza.
An innate intuition told her that Jiang Zong probably didn’t want others to know about his past matters in Yijiang—including the fact that he could play the piano.
“Afterward, he took me to an indoor sports complex.”
He Xicun was curious, “An indoor sports complex?”
“Yes,” Lin Shuxue nodded. “There are quite a lot of activities inside. You can drive go-karts, and there’s also shooting.”
She did her best to introduce the details in a highly formulaic manner, preventing her curious roommates from pressing for further specifics.
Meng Shuyin asked, “And that’s it?”
Lin Shuxue replied, “That’s it.”
She possessed a face that others frequently evaluated as looking profoundly well-behaved. Under the enhancement of this face, as long as she intentionally hid a matter, it was incredibly difficult for anyone to spot any clues from her expressions.
After all, the first impression was simply too deeply ingrained; no one would suspect she was telling a lie.
Sure enough, Meng Shuyin took it as the absolute truth, muttering in puzzlement, “Is there something wrong with Jiang Zong’s brain? Going by himself isn’t enough, he had to drag you along too?”
Lin Shuxue blinked, echoing her sentiment, “Probably because it was convenient?”
From behind the bed curtain, He Xicun, who was staring fixedly at her phone screen, suddenly spoke up, “Eh? That post about Jiang Zong’s new girlfriend has been bumped to the top again!”
Meng Shuyin was baffled. “Bumped again? Did the original poster see some new information? But wasn’t Jiang Zong together with Shuxue the entire time today?”
She saw He Xicun’s eyes widen to massive proportions out of sheer shock, her words stumbling as they left her mouth, “N-no, it wasn’t the original poster who bumped it…”
“Then who was it?”
“It’s Jiang Zong himself! He came using his real name!”
This time, even Meng Shuyin was utterly shocked.
The setting of the campus confession wall mini-program allowed users to choose between anonymity or real-name verification when posting. Everyone’s real name was officially authenticated; there was zero possibility of anyone identity-thefting or impersonating someone else.
The reason it induced such immense shock was because while they were discussing Jiang Zong to high heaven on the confession wall, he himself had never uttered a single word.
Everyone had universally assumed that Jiang Zong simply didn’t look at the confession wall.
Meng Shuyin asked, “What did he say?”
He Xicun handed her phone over. “See for yourself.”
Within the pink-toned forum page, the real-name ID bearing the two words “Jiang Zong” had left exactly two replies.
The first was: [Not dating.]
The second reply, which directly quoted a comment floor where the original poster had vividly described the intimate behaviors of the two individuals, threw down four words with absolute brevity and clarity:
[Fabricating rumors kills your dad.]