Seeing the young men and women coming and going around him, a belated regret crept in—he shouldn’t have come.
What did Jiang Qiao have to do with him anyway…
Lu Xun suppressed the inexplicable emotion in his heart and long-pressed the power button. As soon as the phone turned on, a message quickly popped up. Though unmarked, he recognized the number instantly: “When do you get off work?”
A moment later, another message appeared, this time a picture—swirling snowflakes illuminated by the dim yellow streetlights, shimmering like dancing stars.
“Lu Xun, it’s snowing.”
Lu Xun stared at his phone, pausing for a few seconds. It took several calls from Song Qingying before he snapped out of it: “What is it?”
“I said, it’s snowing.” Song Qingying chuckled lightly, her laughter pure and warm. “What were you thinking about so deeply?”
“Nothing.”
Lu Xun put his phone away. “What did you want to say?”
It was about Jiang Qiao.
Song Qingying’s eyelashes fluttered slightly as she withdrew her snow-catching hand. Instead of answering Lu Xun’s question directly, she asked, “You’re not really with her sincerely, are you?”
Lu Xun’s expression cooled. He disliked discussing personal matters with others.
Lost in her own thoughts, Song Qingying interpreted his silence as a form of tacit agreement. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself: “Lu Xun, actually, I li—”
“Lu Xun.”
Jiang Qiao stood not far from them, cutting off Song Qingying’s unfinished words and leaving her frozen in place.
As Lu Xun frowned, Jiang Qiao approached him with a smile and handed him a brown paper bag. “Merry Christmas!”
She didn’t question why Lu Xun was here, as if she had suddenly developed amnesia.
Uncertain what scheme she was plotting now, Lu Xun remained silent for a moment before accepting it.
Song Qingying could no longer stay, her face burning with embarrassment. Mumbling “something came up at home,” she hurried away.
“My gift?” Jiang Qiao held out her palm face-up. Snowflakes landed on it, melting almost instantly.
After waiting a while with no response from the person opposite her, Jiang Qiao’s smile vanished, her lips pressing into a straight line.
“Lu Xun, we’re in a relationship.”
No gifts, no blessings—this romance had given her nothing but deception and half-hearted efforts.
Her tone betrayed no emotion, merely stating a fact: “You’re really boring.”
Somehow, her words struck a nerve. Lu Xun turned to face her: “You can choose to break up.”
It had begun dishonorably, with impure motives—how could she possibly demand a beautiful process now?
They parted on bad terms.
Of course, this was merely Jiang Qiao’s one-sided cold war. To Lu Xun, nothing had significantly changed.
Having one less willful and unreasonable Jiang Qiao around was a good thing for him.
Even a villainous female supporting character had her pride. Jiang Qiao was determined not to be the first to surrender this time. Throughout the entire winter break, she didn’t contact Lu Xun.
Lu Xun continued his part-time job as usual, returning to his old apartment after work to study.
Since the book had glossed over this period of forced love, Jiang Qiao only needed to fulfill necessary Plot Points and could live as she pleased the rest of the time.
Thus, Jiang Qiao enjoyed a delightful stretch of cozy days—occasionally “bullying” the female lead verbally, followed by shopping, playing, and eating to her heart’s content. Her high school life couldn’t have been more vibrant.
The start of senior year ushered in a tense exam preparation period. In response to the call to focus on adolescent mental health, the school specially hired a mental health teacher.
It was Jiang Chao—the male lead Jiang Qiao had briefly encountered once, and Ye Qingqing’s neighbor and older brother figure.
Young, handsome, and gentle in speech, Jiang Chao quickly gained a crowd of admirers.
He didn’t hide his concern for Ye Qingqing, and soon the whole class knew that she shared a close bond with this young, handsome teacher.
This improved Ye Qingqing’s social standing in the class. Even those who had avoided her out of fear of the Jiang family’s influence began approaching her willingly.
For a time, Jiang Qiao found herself somewhat “neglected.”
A few friends from families of similar status thought she was upset. To console her, they insisted on skipping class and dragging her to a bar.
Although Jiang Qiao felt nothing of the sort, she had to go along to maintain her persona.
The group of wealthy youngsters booked a VIP room, partying wildly without a care for the impending college entrance exams.
Ye Qingqing had just gone through another breakup and was singing her heart out with mournful wails. Amused, Jiang Qiao recorded a video of her.
After a moment’s thought, she took a few selfies, capturing the bar’s ambiance and the backs of several boys, then posted them on her social media.
After a few rounds of drinks, as dusk settled, Jiang Qiao checked the time and took the elevator downstairs. Pretending not to notice Lu Xun at the front desk, she walked out, then back in, repeating the act several times until Lu Xun finally spoke up: “Here for a stroll at the bar?”
Jiang Qiao was speechless. She walked up to him, feigning surprise. “Why are you still working here?”
“Good pay,” Lu Xun replied tersely.
This was their first normal conversation since the last incident, when Jiang Qiao had paid his tuition, joked about “sponsoring” him, been coldly rejected, but stubbornly paid anyway.
Jiang Qiao frowned. “I told you I have money. If you’d just be my boyfriend properly, I could give you all you need.”
Her cheeks were flushed. Lu Xun glanced at her. “How much have you had to drink?”
“Huh?” Jiang Qiao was slow to react. “I didn’t drink.”
She tilted her head, thinking. “Oh, just some fruit wine.”
Lu Xun: “…………………”
His expression cooled as he recalled the photos he’d just seen. “Sit over there and wait,” he said, his tone suggesting she was a nuisance he’d rather avoid.
Jiang Qiao pouted but was genuinely tired. Not wanting to return to the private room and endure the ear-splitting noise, she sat on a nearby sofa to rest.
She had always been pretty, and over the past two years, she’d blossomed even more. Usually haughty and willfully ignorant of the world, her quiet demeanor now gave off an unexpected air of docility.
Only on the surface, Lu Xun thought.
The youngsters in the box had lost track of everything while having fun. By the time they realized someone was missing, Jiang Qiao had already left with Lu Xun.
Ye Qingqing sent a furious text, accusing her of ditching friends for a guy, calling her lovesick.
Looking at the handsome profile of the boy beside her, Jiang Qiao replied, “I’m happy to.”
Only then did she realize what Lu Xun had meant by telling her to wait—he intended to take her home.
Jiang Qiao’s eyes widened in astonishment, a sense of gratification washing over her, as if years of effort hadn’t been in vain.
She stealthily reached out and grasped Lu Xun’s hand. He stiffened but didn’t pull away, letting her hold it.
A minute later, Lu Xun remarked indifferently, “Stop pinching me.”
“Oh, oh, oh.” Jiang Qiao quickly loosened her grip, moving her fingers away from where they’d been digging into his palm.
At night, she lay on the bed in a daze, talking to 166 who had come online again after two years: [Do you think Lu Xun might like me a little?]
[No.] 166 said: [Don’t overthink it.]
[Oh, I was just asking~]
In the book, the Jiang family’s bankruptcy occurred just before the college entrance exams. Jiang Qiao calculated that there were only about half a year left.