Chapter 7: Meeting My Wife: Day 7

Jiang Wan always felt like she’d forgotten something.

It wasn’t until she got home that evening, pulled out her notebook, and saw that string of numbers that she realized she’d forgotten to add Bei Huai.

She opened WeChat and entered the phone number.

A pure black profile picture popped up—no frills at all. At first glance, it looked like a bad connection and the image hadn’t loaded.

The nickname next to it was pretty unique, too.

Tree

Tree? Like, an actual tree?

Jiang Wan nodded thoughtfully. After double-checking that she’d entered the number correctly, she sent the friend request. She waited a few dozen seconds with no response, so she put her phone away and got started on her homework.

Once she’d finished the assignments from her teachers that day and even previewed an English lesson ahead of time, Jiang Wan finally checked her phone to see if Bei Huai had approved her.

When she opened WeChat, the black avatar was now in her contacts list. And…

The chat showed that the other person had deleted a message—about ten minutes earlier. She’d had her phone on silent while studying, so she hadn’t heard the notification.

Jiang Wan blinked and sent over a question mark.

…

In the dim room, the phone screen cast the only light—a cold white glow that made the girl’s face look eerily pale.

She stared at the question mark in the chat window for a long moment before typing out a reply.

Tree: It’s nothing. Don’t message me unless it’s important.

The second she hit send, she regretted it. Had she come off too harsh?

She was just reaching to delete it when a response popped up.

Good Night: Got it.

Tree: …

Got it? Bei Huai’s expression twisted oddly.

What the hell did she mean by “got it”? No pushback at all?

Bei Huai had been that rude, and Jiang Wan just rolled over like a total pushover.

In truth, Bei Huai had been mulling over what Cen Jin had told her.

That’s why, when Jiang Wan’s friend request came in, she hadn’t approved it right away. Instead, she’d let it hang for a few minutes before reluctantly hitting accept.

Jiang Wan’s profile pic was this adorable cartoon character—perfectly matching her vibe. Her Moments were full of warm, wholesome posts.

It was obvious Jiang Wan was the kind of girl who’d grown up wrapped in cotton wool, shielded from the world’s cruelties and never touching the darkness.

Bei Huai figured that was why Jiang Wan was so tolerant and soft-spoken—surrounded her whole life by beauty and kindness.

The two of them were polar opposites.

They had no business getting too close.

Still, after scrolling through the Moments and backing out, Bei Huai noticed Jiang Wan still hadn’t replied.

Was she seriously playing hard to get?

Not a chance. Bei Huai wasn’t biting.

No way was she making the first move.

That was the plan, anyway—until her finger slipped and she accidentally sent a string of gibberish.

She yanked it back fast, secretly hoping Jiang Wan would say something about it.

All she got after an eternity of waiting? A single “?”

Bei Huai huffed.

If she replied now, she’d be a total moron.

She chucked the phone aside and flopped back onto the bed.

Eyes shut. Sleep.

A moment later, she bolted upright, raking her fingers through her hair in frustration.

Fantastic. Wide awake.

She forced herself to sit still for a few more minutes before grudgingly grabbing the phone again.

The chat hadn’t budged—still frozen on her three dots.

Bei Huai pressed her lips together, a weird feeling churning inside her.

She pulled up the profile and added a custom note.

Annoying Pest.

Meanwhile, Bei Huai stewed in her irritation, oblivious to the note Jiang Wan had pinned to her—which would’ve ticked her off even more.

Tsundere Ghost (Tree)

Jiang Wan rubbed her chin, grinning at her own choice.

To her, Bei Huai was just like the white cat she’d had as a pet—pure tsundere.

All bark on the outside, but a softie deep down.

She came across as prickly and standoffish, but get past that shell, and she was downright cute.

And the biggest thing? Jiang Wan wanted to be her friend.

She wasn’t the type to chase a huge social circle or hunt down new buddies.

Quality over quantity, as far as she was concerned.

Dealing with people took energy she didn’t want to burn on a crowd.

Sure, she’d always seemed to have plenty of friends growing up, but her one real confidante was Guanguan.

People had called her out on it before: all gentle smiles and easy vibes on the surface, super approachable—but with walls thicker than anyone’s, her heart the toughest nut to crack.

Bei Huai was the exception. Forget the diary stuff for a sec—the girl herself pulled Jiang Wan in like a magnet.

She wanted to slip past those defenses, peek into this tsundere ghost’s world.

It might not be all sunshine, but she’d gladly take a look anyway.

The next day at school, Jiang Wan instinctively glanced toward the back row.

Sure enough, Bei Huai still wasn’t there.

During break, as she headed to refill her water, she overheard two boys nearby chatting.

She wasn’t trying to eavesdrop—it was just that the name “Bei Huai” caught her ear, and she paid attention.

“Hey, I spotted Bei Huai at the school convenience store earlier. Damn, her face was darker than a storm cloud.”

“Who the hell pissed her off?”

“Who’d dare mess with her? Doesn’t she own this place? Even last year’s mess didn’t get her kicked out.”

“Yeah, no clue if she’s got some powerful dad or a sugar daddy in her corner.” The boy let out a sleazy chuckle.

“Wonder if she’s that badass in bed too.”

“…”

Their conversation heated up, words flying without a filter.

Until—bang!

A water cup slammed onto the desk. They looked up.

The usually gentle girl had gone stone-cold.

Her voice dripped with fury.

“You’re all talk here—why not say that to Bei Huai’s face?”

“Good manners are a great thing. Too bad not everyone’s blessed with them.”

“You…” Publicly called out, the boy jumped up in humiliated rage to snap back, but his friend shoved him down.

“Easy, easy—real guys don’t brawl with girls.” His buddy shot him a warning glance. The boy still fumed but clamped his mouth shut, shooting Jiang Wan venomous glares.

They didn’t dare make a scene, mostly scared Bei Huai would hear they’d been trash-talking her behind her back.

Satisfied they’d chickened out, Jiang Wan let out a cold scoff, snatched her cup, and headed back.

Mi Shuyun had watched the whole clash. She wanted to tell Jiang Wan that picking fights with classmates over Bei Huai wasn’t worth it.

But one look at the girl’s frosty expression, and the words died on her lips.

The run-in still weighed on Jiang Wan—even as Guanguan dragged her to the cafeteria, her mind wandered.

While they queued up, Jiang Wan turned to Guanguan. “What do you think of Bei Huai? What kind of person is she?”

Guan Shaorong blinked. “Huh? Why ask that outta nowhere?”

“Just curious.”

Guan Shaorong mulled it over. “She’s pretty badass, I guess. The school forum makes her out like the Big Demon King, but I figure she’s the ‘don’t start none, won’t be none’ type.”

“I don’t hang with her anyway, so I don’t think about her much. But! Wanwan, I’ve got a new crush goal!”

“Who?” Jiang Wan raised her brows, half-listening.

“Senior Cen Jin from Class 1, Senior Year 3! She’s drop-dead gorgeous, sweet as hell, and aces every test! How is she even real? Oh, and Wanwan—remember when I tumbled down the stairs? Senior Cen Jin grabbed me. Wuwuwu, my heart exploded! I’m dying!”

Tuning out Guanguan’s swooning, Jiang Wan zeroed in on “Cen Jin.”

Mi Shuyun had brought her up before.

Loaded family, killer looks, top-tier skills, never slipped from the top ten grades. A total school legend, crush of half the student body.

What stood out: she was Bei Huai’s friend. She owned it, no apologies—had even shut down Bei Huai bashers herself.

Hard to picture two such opposites as pals.

They rarely showed up together. Now Bei Huai was held back and Cen Jin was in senior year, buried in work, their hangouts were scarce.

Over time, most folks forgot they were tight.

Jiang Wan was about to probe more on Cen Jin and Bei Huai when the cafeteria buzzed to life, the energy spiking.

She followed the noise—there was Bei Huai, rocking her signature tough-girl vibe, face like thunder. Someone really had gotten under her skin?

The girl next to her was a mystery, but Guanguan cleared it up quick.

“Aaah, Senior Cen Jin! Wuwuwu, she’s still a goddess!”

Side by side, the two knockout beauties were a feast for the eyes, their presence magnetic. The crowd parted like magic, clearing a path.

Whoever trailed behind them? Invisible.

“I wanna grab lunch with Senior Cen Jin,” Guanguan murmured, eyes locked on her.

“Nothing’s stopping you—go for it,” Jiang Wan said with a grin.

Bei Huai’s crew had stirred up a storm just walking in, but they claimed a quiet corner table—clearly not craving the spotlight.

Guan Shaorong touched her face and shook her head. “My skin’s been in rough shape lately. I’ll pass for now. I need to wait until I’m back at my peak before I have the confidence to chase a goddess.”

“You still have a peak? When was that?”

“…Wanwan!”

The two grabbed their meals and headed toward the table they’d claimed earlier.

“Sister Shan, isn’t that the little bitch who popped up on the rooftop?” At their table, the Leather Skirt Girl stared at the girl not far away and whispered.

Chen Keshan leisurely dabbed at her mouth, glanced at the girl approaching with her tray, and smiled at Xu Xiaozhi standing beside her. “Little Zhi, you know what to do, right~?”

Xu Xiaozhi’s thin shoulders trembled as she buried her head even lower. Her voice was barely more than a mosquito’s hum. “I… I know.”

Just as Jiang Wan and the others passed by her side, Xu Xiaozhi gritted her teeth and slammed into them.

The tray flipped over, food splattering everywhere—even onto their clothes.

“Shit! Wanwan, you didn’t get burned, did you?” There had been a bowl of scalding soup on the tray, and now it was all over Jiang Wan’s arm.

Guan Shaorong was furious and frantic. She set her own tray down in a hurry, grabbed some napkins to wipe Jiang Wan’s arm, and cursed angrily all the while.

“How is it you again? Are you blind or what? You bump into us everywhere we go. What, do we just rub you the wrong way?”

“Sorry, sorry…” Xu Xiaozhi went pale, looking utterly flustered and at a loss.

“Sorry? You think that’s enough? I bet you did that on purpose!”

“She’s already apologized. Why are you being so aggressive?” Chen Keshan stood and walked over to Xu Xiaozhi, draping an arm over her shoulder with feigned concern.

“Right? Little Zhi didn’t mean it. I could say your tray hurt her! If you hadn’t been walking without looking where you were going, this never would’ve happened.” The Leather Skirt Girl chimed in with snide sarcasm.

“Holy shit, you’ve got some balls flipping the blame like that. You three are obviously working together.” Guan Shaorong saw right through it—this was a setup aimed straight at Jiang Wan.

If Jiang Wan hadn’t held her back, she would’ve charged right in and decked them.

The commotion drew glances from all around.

After all, nothing beat some good drama to liven up the dull routine of school life, right?

“Tch. With Brother Qin backing her up, Chen Keshan’s getting bolder by the day.” Cen Jin shot a glance at the smug Chen Keshan, then looked away, her eyes full of disdain.

She had zero tolerance for people who threw their weight around on borrowed power.

Bei Huai didn’t reply. She simply watched the girl at the center of the crowd, her gaze flickering between light and shadow.

“Someone you know?” Cen Jin followed her line of sight and raised an eyebrow.

“Nope.” Bei Huai shifted her eyes away, her expression unchanging, as if she’d only been glancing idly.

But after years of friendship, Cen Jin wasn’t buying it that easily.

She let out a light chuckle and tapped her lips. “Let me guess… She’s the one pulling that 【Playing Hard to Get】 on you?”

“I…” Bei Huai frowned.

“Aaah—!”

A piercing scream cut her off.

Bei Huai’s pupils contracted as she shot to her feet and looked over.

“You… you dare!” Chen Keshan glared at Jiang Wan through gritted teeth, her eyes bloodshot with rage. The finger she jabbed in accusation trembled faintly.

She was a total wreck now—her carefully styled hair utterly ruined by a bowl of soup, with rivulets still dripping down her face.

The Leather Skirt Girl was frantically dabbing at Chen Keshan’s face with napkins.

To everyone’s shock, Jiang Wan had dumped the Leather Skirt Girl’s leftover soup straight onto Chen Keshan’s head.

She’d moved too fast for Chen Keshan to dodge.

“Sorry, my hand slipped.” Jiang Wan curved her lips into a smile and offered a perfectly sincere apology.

“But I’ve said sorry, so you can’t go getting aggressive on me now, okay?” she added with polite poise.

“Fuck! You’re finished, you bitch! Brother Qin won’t let this slide after what you did to Sister Shan!” the Leather Skirt Girl spat venomously.

“Did you fall in a septic tank as a kid or something? No wonder your mouth reeks!” Guan Shaorong wasn’t about to hold back and fired right back.

“You!” The Leather Skirt Girl’s mouth twitched in fury.

“You, you, you—what about me? Can’t even string a sentence together. Not only does your mouth stink, your brain must be broken too.”

“Pfft.” Even Cen Jin couldn’t stifle a laugh.

This girl sure knew how to throw shade.

“Enough! You’re good—we’ll see about this.” Chen Keshan’s face twisted in fury. She shot Jiang Wan one last venomous glare before turning on her heel and stalking off.

There was no way she’d stick around looking like a drowned rat.

The Leather Skirt Girl knew she’d lost face too and slunk away dejectedly in Chen Keshan’s wake.

Xu Xiaozhi kept her head lowered, wanting to slip away while no one was paying attention, but Jiang Wan grabbed her in one swift motion.

“S-Sorry… I didn’t want to do it. I was forced…” She sobbed as she tried to defend herself.

Guan Shaorong’s anger hadn’t subsided yet. When she saw Xu Xiaozhi pushing all the blame onto others, she was about to curse her out again, but Jiang Wan stopped her.

“At first, I wanted to help you.” Jiang Wan’s expression was very calm, without the anger or scolding that Xu Xiaozhi had expected.

“I…” Xu Xiaozhi moved her lips.

“But now, I think you’re not worthy at all. You don’t even deserve my sympathy.”

“You don’t understand what I’ve been through at all. You don’t know how terrifying they are. I couldn’t go against them.” Xu Xiaozhi covered her face and slowly squatted down to the ground, her frail body trembling.

“So what?” The girl’s voice was very calm—calm to the point of near indifference.

“What does it have to do with me? I only care whether you’ve hurt me or not. I won’t give a damn about what happened to you.”

She looked down at Xu Xiaozhi from a superior vantage point, her gaze cold and ruthless for the first time.

She said, “Since you’ve done it, you have to face the consequences.”

She had said long ago that she only cared about the things she chose to care about.