Chapter 20: Meeting My Wife: Day 20 Part 1

No one knew exactly when Bei Huai had returned to class.

But she was extremely attentive toward Jiang Wan.

“I’ll get it for you.” The moment Jiang Wan moved to fetch some water, Bei Huai shot to her feet and offered.

The girl glanced at her impassively, her smile polite yet distant. “No need.”

Bei Huai watched Jiang Wan’s retreating back until it vanished from sight. Slowly, she lowered her head, her lips pressing into a tight line. For some reason, an inexplicable discomfort stirred in her chest.

She had never seen the girl act so aloof before.

During the break, Bei Huai sat at the back and overheard Jiang Wan chatting with her deskmate.

“Jiang Wan, the school convenience store just stocked a new kind of ice cream. I hear it’s really good.”

“Yeah, I know. My friend mentioned it yesterday, but it’s so popular that it’s always sold out by the time I get there.”

“Man, I really want one. Do you want to try it, Jiang Wan?”

“I’d love to taste it, but I always arrive too late.”

“…”

Bei Huai rubbed her chin, her eyes thoughtful.

By the time they returned to the classroom after lunch, Jiang Wan found an ice cream bar sitting on her desk.

It was the exact same one she and Mi Shuyun had discussed that morning.

“Excuse me, did any of you see who put this on my desk?” Jiang Wan asked a few classmates who had arrived earlier than her, completely ignoring the person pretending to sleep at the desk behind.

They all shook their heads, saying they had no idea.

She stared at the ice cream in her hand, the corner of her mouth twitching upward ever so slightly.

She didn’t even need to ask; she could probably guess who had left it there.

But… so what?

“Mi Shuyun, here, you have this ice cream.” She looked up and beckoned to the girl who had just walked into the classroom.

“Huh? You got one!” Mi Shuyun exclaimed in surprise.

Jiang Wan smiled noncommittally. “I’m not really in the mood for it right now. It might melt, so you eat it.”

The person faking sleep at the back desk bolted upright with a jolt, glaring daggers at Mi Shuyun. She looked ready to lunge and tear her apart if she even hinted at accepting.

Mi Shuyun, chilled to the bone by the stare, swallowed hard and forced an awkward laugh while waving her hands. “N-no… that wouldn’t be right.”

She wanted it badly, but between the ice cream and her life, she chose the latter.

“Alright then.” Jiang Wan nodded slightly and didn’t press further. Instead, she turned and tossed the ice cream straight into the trash bin.

The motion was swift and decisive.

Mi Shuyun: “!!!”

She stole a cautious glance at Bei Huai’s expression.

Good grief, that face was thunderous.

“Uh, J-Jiang… Jiang Wan, why’d you just throw it away like that? What a… what a waste.” Mi Shuyun stammered.

“I told you, I’m not in the mood right now.” Jiang Wan’s smile was gentle, but the chill in her eyes was piercing.

Bei Huai clenched her fists, staring at the ice cream in the trash bin. She let out a silent sigh.

She knew Jiang Wan had done it on purpose, so she wasn’t truly angry—just deeply confused.

She wanted to try talking to Jiang Wan, but the girl’s attitude made her hesitant to take that step.

It was frustrating. So frustrating.

During evening self-study, several classmates came to Jiang Wan for help with their English homework.

They’d had an English test a couple of days ago, and Jiang Wan had scored the highest in the class—especially her essay, which the teacher had read aloud as an example.

Word spread that English was Jiang Wan’s strong suit.

She was patient and good-tempered, too, so plenty of people sought her out.

After helping a few of them, Bei Huai keenly noticed the fatigue creeping into Jiang Wan’s expression.

It made sense. After a full day of classes, explaining problems to others was exhausting for anyone.

But the ones asking questions clearly lacked any sense of awareness. They only noticed her smile had faded a bit and she was taking longer to think.

Bei Huai narrowed her eyes, thoroughly annoyed by these oblivious fools.

She slammed her desk, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Are you done yet? Can’t you see she’s tired? Is the teacher just a decoration? Go ask her yourselves.”

The words came out of nowhere, but everyone knew exactly who she was targeting—the ones bothering Jiang Wan.

The classmates flushed with embarrassment, exchanging uneasy glances. They didn’t dare defy Bei Huai, nor did they want to keep troubling Jiang Wan, so they hesitated and started backing away.

Just as they wavered, the girl’s clear, sweet voice rang out.

“You’re stuck on this cloze passage, right? Yeah, it’s a tricky one—they set up a trap in the context…”

Jiang Wan continued explaining on her own, completely brushing off Bei Huai’s outburst and ignoring her entirely.

The others exchanged shocked looks.

To straight-up ignore Bei Huai like that? She was a true warrior!

Bei Huai scowled and swept her cold gaze over them. Everyone who met her eyes ducked their heads obediently and got back to their own work.

She could easily make everyone shut up—except Jiang Wan.

Realizing this, Bei Huai felt a little deflated.

Private Billiards Room.

“So, you still haven’t gone to apologize to her?” After hearing Bei Huai’s account, Cen Jin nearly burst out laughing.

“If I were Jiang Wan, I’d want nothing to do with you for the rest of my life.”

Cen Jin lounged on the sofa, clucking her tongue twice, her schadenfreude on full display.

The girl wore a white shirt with her long sleeves rolled up once, exposing her fair wrists as she assumed a standard cue grip.

She leaned forward, eyes level, sighting down the cue.

Her expression remained impassive until she sank her shot. Only then did she glance up at Cen Jin and drawl, “I just can’t bring myself to say it.”

If Cen Jin hadn’t caught the flicker of distress in her eyes, she might have been infuriated by that matter-of-fact tone.

“Big sis, is ‘I’m sorry’ really that hard to say?” Cen Jin said helplessly.

Still, she could understand Bei Huai’s position. After all, she was proud and haughty by nature—usually, it was others who apologized to her. How could she possibly swallow her pride to say sorry to someone else?

Not like Cen Jin herself. Her ex-girlfriends had only needed to open their mouths and apologize whenever they upset her, no hesitation whatsoever.

No wonder Bei Huai was still single!

Bei Huai gripped her cue, a thought stirring in her mind, but she said nothing, falling silent instead.

Something unreadable darkened her eyes.

Perhaps it wasn’t that she couldn’t say the words. Perhaps she was just afraid… afraid that even if she did, Jiang Wan still wouldn’t forgive her.

She had never imagined a day when she would feel so anxious over a girl.

~~~

It was Wednesday, time for the big classroom cleanup, and Jiang Wan’s group was up.

Noticing the cast on her left hand, the other group members were considerate, handling the heavy work themselves and leaving only the light tasks for her.

To avoid disturbing those cleaning, the other students filed out right after class.

Once they thought everything was done, Mi Shuyun called out to Jiang Wan. “Jiang Wan, let’s go grab some food.”

“I’m finished here too,” one of the boys chimed in.

“You guys go ahead. I’ll double-check everything. The hygiene inspectors might show up any minute,” Jiang Wan replied as she meticulously wiped down the lectern.

“Sounds good. We’ll head out then,” another boy agreed, finding her logic sound.

One by one, they left the classroom.

Soon, only Jiang Wan remained.

The sun dipped toward the horizon, the evening sky ablaze with fiery clouds—streaks and clusters radiating dazzling light, breathtaking in their beauty.

A breeze lifted the blue curtains, veiling half her face.

Over the school broadcast, gentle music played as the soft-voiced announcer recited a short poem.

Everything felt so serene and peaceful.

Bei Huai stood just outside the door, head tilted against the wall, watching Jiang Wan inspect with such focus. She had no desire to interrupt this moment.

On her check, Jiang Wan spotted a stray spiderweb in the upper corner of the blackboard near the ceiling—likely overlooked during the cleaning.

She considered for a moment, then dragged over her stool. Clutching the broom in her right hand, she climbed up and reached for the web.

Her height fell just short, so she rose onto her tiptoes.

But in the next instant, a warm arm encircled her waist.

Her body lifted abruptly into the air before settling lightly back to the floor.

Jiang Wan’s eyes widened. Once she realized what happened, she wrenched free of the arm around her waist, backing away swiftly. She thrust the broom out like a weapon, her gaze sweeping the room warily.

There stood the red-haired girl, brows furrowed in clear disapproval.

“What do you think you’re doing, trying to sweep up there with one hand? No one was even watching out for you. What if you fell?”

As she spoke, Bei Huai snatched the broom from Jiang Wan’s grasp. She stepped steadily onto the stool—her five-foot-nine frame making short work of the spiderweb.

Jiang Wan stayed quiet, simply watching as Bei Huai cleaned it up for her. It wasn’t until Bei Huai hopped down that she murmured softly, “And what exactly are you doing right now?”

Her tone was even gentle, devoid of any confrontation.

Not an accusation, by any means.

Yet it left Bei Huai frozen in place, speechless.

“You said it yourself—we’re nothing to each other. So stop doing things that could make me misunderstand.” Jiang Wan smiled, her voice soft and yielding, leaving it unclear if this was sarcasm.

“It’s not—” Bei Huai started, lips parting as she tried to explain.

But Jiang Wan cut her off.

“Since you hate me meddling in your business, you don’t get to meddle in mine either. Even if I did fall, what would it have to do with you? After all, as far as Classmate Bei Huai is concerned, we’re nothing to each other.”

With the gentlest voice, she delivered the cruelest words.

What a gentle knife—every slice cuts straight to the soul.

Bei Huai’s lips were pale, her voice hoarse as she gazed at the girl. A storm of unspoken emotions churned in the depths of her eyes.

She tried desperately to suppress them, but they only broke free more fiercely.

“Jiang Wan.”

She rasped.

“I think… I really do regret it.”