Chapter 12: The Underdog

The Injury Company had been relegated to the most remote, highest tier of the gymnasium. People trickled in sporadically, their movements sluggish.

Despite the seclusion, Xu Yinian still chose a seat in the far corner, right against the railing. This spot, where no one would notice or disturb her, provided a profound sense of security. Being a “transparent person” had always been her comfort zone.

Right up until the Opening Ceremony began, Xu Yinian remained in a daze, cupping her face in her hands. Her mind was a broken record, replaying the few words Shen Ruoshuang had said when she visited the day before.

She probably just… had something she needed to ask me, right?

Even as she told herself this, the cheeks shielded by her palms grew steadily warmer. Through the gaps between her fingers, a brilliant flush of crimson was visible.

Suddenly, a tall figure walking with a rhythmic, lazy gait interrupted her drifting thoughts. It had to be said—Ji Yan’s beauty and aura were incredibly striking. Not only had she perfectly inherited the best traits of her superstar mother, Pei Ru, but she had arguably surpassed them.

Those damp, cold, obsidian eyes were unforgettable—languid and decadent, yet possessing a dominant edge that suggested a sleeping beast ready to wake at any moment.

Xu Yinian remembered Ji Yan’s status as a “star second-gen” and felt a sudden spark of curiosity. Why was someone like her staying away from the entertainment industry? With such superior natural gifts, she would have become an overnight sensation the moment she debuted.

Since university regulations mandated the standard military uniform today, Ji Yan finally wore the camouflage jacket and trousers. However, the jacket hung loosely off her frame, unbuttoned and messy, revealing a forest-green tank top underneath. Her long, straight legs were tucked into leather combat boots adorned with silver rivets.

It wasn’t just Xu Yinian; everyone in the vicinity was staring. Their eyes were filled with wonder as they whispered to one another, asking which department she belonged to.

Only then did Xu Yinian remember—Ji Yan’s leg was also injured. It made perfect sense for her to be in the Injury Company.

Wait, we’re in the same company? Doesn’t that mean we’ll be seeing each other constantly?

Recalling how Ji Yan had suddenly turned on her in the infirmary yesterday, Xu Yinian realized the severity of the situation. She pursed her lips and lowered her head, trying to shrink her presence, but her eyes continued to peek through the railing to track Ji Yan’s movements.

She didn’t expect those cold, dark eyes to be so sharp.

With a mere tilt of her head, Ji Yan’s gaze shot straight over, locking onto hers in mid-air. Having found her target, Ji Yan’s lips curved into a rare, faint smirk. Knowing her prey couldn’t escape this time, her movements remained unhurried.

With that one look, Xu Yinian knew she had been marked.

She nervously scanned her surroundings. Fortunately, this spot was walled in on several sides by the corner. The only available seat to her left was already occupied by another student.

Before she could breathe a sigh of relief, Ji Yan arrived.

She leaned down slightly, watching the girl sitting next to Xu Yinian with a relaxed, effortless smile. As she tilted her head, a few strands of hair slid past her ear, revealing a silver stud on her left lobe—a subtle, rebellious charm flickering in and out of sight.

“Hey. This is my roommate; we agreed to sit together. Would you mind swapping seats?”

Despite the polite phrasing, there was no actual request in her tone, and the smile didn’t reach her eyes. The habitual nonchalance that defined Ji Yan was on full display. Yet, that very carelessness was captivating, making it impossible for anyone to refuse.

“We didn’t agr—”

Xu Yinian’s ignored protest was cut short. The girl had already stood up, face flushed bright red, and easily surrendered the seat to Ji Yan.

“Um—excuse me, could I… could I add you on WeChat?”

Faced with the girl’s request, Ji Yan showed no conscience whatsoever. She let out a soft chuckle. “Thanks, but sorry. I don’t use WeChat.”

Xu Yinian had never seen anyone tell such a blatant, perfunctory lie with such a straight face. How could anyone in the modern world not use WeChat?

Shockingly, the girl actually believed her, clearly blinded by that face.

With this development, Xu Yinian was completely trapped in the “scenic” three-walled corner she had chosen for herself. If she wanted to go anywhere, she would have to get past Ji Yan first. She felt like she was sitting on a bed of needles.

Down below, the Opening Ceremony had begun, but the mountain-top bleachers—so far back they were practically behind the stage—were still busy with people moving about. Even though Xu Yinian wanted to listen to the ceremony quietly, she couldn’t focus at all.

Amidst the applause following the Principal’s speech, Ji Yan’s voice drifted over abruptly. “How’s the foot?”

Xu Yinian never expected Ji Yan’s first words to be a gesture of concern. She almost thought she was hallucinating and looked at Ji Yan in shock and suspicion.

“If you don’t tell me, I’ll just check it myself.”

Ji Yan always delivered threats in the most flat, lazy tone; the sense of pressure she exerted seemed innate. Xu Yinian knew that when this girl “went crazy,” she didn’t listen to reason. She would absolutely do exactly what she said.

The tiny spark of improved opinion vanished instantly. Xu Yinian took a deep breath and gave a reluctant, perfunctory answer. “…It’s fine now.”

As she said it, she realized she had used the exact same dismissive line on Shen Ruoshuang last night. She suddenly felt that the sudden concern of these two “favored children of heaven” was a blessing she truly couldn’t afford.

“I’ve seen people who aren’t bright, but I’ve never seen anyone as useless as you. Next time, remember not to rush in to save people.”

The words carried a deeper meaning. It took a moment for Xu Yinian to realize Ji Yan was talking about the reason she got injured. She froze, the question slipping out of her mouth: “Huh? How… how do you know about that?”

Ji Yan’s eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings. When she looked up, her eyes were a deep, rich shade of ink. It was hard to tell if it was the shadow of her lashes or the weight of her emotions.

“Xu Yinian, are you only just realizing that I’m very interested in you?”

The way she dragged out the end of the sentence in that magnetic voice gave it a strangely lingering, affectionate quality.

“I’d find a way to learn a few things about you, wouldn’t I?”

Ji Yan watched the shift in Xu Yinian’s expression intently. After all, when dealing with such an oblivious, unawakened girl, isn’t the whole point of saying such things to admire the resulting panic and helplessness?

Those light-colored eyes were so clear and pure that one could read every emotion within them at a glance.

Like a startled fawn, Xu Yinian’s round eyes grew even wider. She jerked her gaze away as if fleeing, her face and ears instinctively heating up. The tips of her ears were pink, but her eyes were filled with repeated avoidance and frantic unease.

Xu Yinian had never been confronted with such blunt words. However, she wasn’t so delusional as to think this meant Ji Yan actually “liked” her.

It was an open admission of being “interested,” but coming from Ji Yan, it felt more like a hunter’s warning, laced with endless danger.

Xu Yinian suddenly recalled that the last time Ji Yan was “curious,” she was asking about her relationship with Shen Ruoshuang. It was likely because of her cryptic past with Shen Ruoshuang that Ji Yan had taken notice of her…

“Is… is that so?”

Xu Yinian tried to act calm and brush it off, but her voice was trembling.

“But your face is red.”

The voice seemed to brush right against Xu Yinian’s ear, making her breath hitch. Her previous analysis and logic were tossed to the back of her mind. Only then did she realize—what did the other person say? Why was she blushing this hard?

The reminder didn’t help her regain her composure. Instead, the heat intensified, and her only thought was finding a hole to crawl into.

This reaction was exactly what Ji Yan expected. Or rather, she had intentionally provoked her because she wanted to see a version of Xu Yinian that wasn’t just a “muted gourd” or a cowering quail.

But seeing Xu Yinian’s cheeks, nose, ears, and even the corners of her eyes flush a pale pink from her teasing—watching those eyes grow moist and shimmering—made Ji Yan’s fingers, resting at her side, tremble. An indescribable sensation spread through her body.

Her voice dropped an octave, sounding low and husky. “Don’t move yet.”

Xu Yinian was already suffering. Hearing the sudden command, she didn’t know what Ji Yan was planning and feared another sudden “attack” like yesterday. She truly didn’t dare move now, much less look over.

Time ticked by. After an agonizingly long wait, a familiar name caught Xu Yinian’s attention, drawing her focus toward the stage.

“Next, we invite the undergraduate freshman representative, Student Shen Ruoshuang, to the stage to speak.”

Shen Ruoshuang is the freshman representative?

The moment the question arose, Xu Yinian realized how obvious it was. Who else but her? She was the definition of perfection and genius, born to carry every ounce of praise and admiration.

In the distance, Xu Yinian saw Shen Ruoshuang walk onto the stage in formal attire. The large screens zoomed in on her face, seemingly recreating that video that had gone viral two years ago.

Only this time, the childish innocence had faded from Shen Ruoshuang’s face, replaced by a more rational and composed aura. What remained unchanged, however, was that indifferent expression and her calm demeanor in the face of honor and worship.

The entire stadium erupted in cheers for her. The applause was like a mountain toppling or the sea roaring.

As the applause died down, Shen Ruoshuang looked up. Her gaze traversed the countless spectators, locking onto the very back of the bleachers.

Her eyes were no longer filled solely with pride; instead, they held the same look she gave the daisies she held in her arms. It was as if she had thought of the softest place in her heart, causing even the ice in her eyes to melt away.

Her voice, clear as a spring, rang out. The tranquility brought by her confidence made every word resonate deeply.

The three-minute speech, delivered without notes, showcased a supreme reverence for academic science and absolute rationality, yet it was infused with a pure, original heart—just as Shen Ruoshuang had always maintained.

From that initial moment when it felt like Shen Ruoshuang was looking at her from afar, Xu Yinian had been lost. As if bewitched, she stared blankly at that “moon in the water,” that “flower in the mirror.”

After all… Shen Ruoshuang had always been her ideal.

Just as Xu Yinian’s eyes were fixed on Shen Ruoshuang, Ji Yan’s gaze never left Xu Yinian.

“You moved after all.”

It was a mutter to herself, one that wouldn’t reach Xu Yinian’s ears.

That heart-full-of-shyness that had belonged to her was over. Ji Yan’s charcoal pencil came to a sudden halt. The figure in her sketchbook was mere moments from completion.

The girl’s profile lived on the paper; the use of light, shadow, and line had captured those romantic thoughts perfectly. The brilliance flowing in those eyes was like the world’s most precious gemstone, beautiful beyond words.

Ji Yan touched the eyes in the drawing with her porcelain-white fingertip, but it left a smudge of black charcoal—a glaring, ugly stain.

Her lashes lowered, casting a shadow. She suddenly ripped the drawing from the book. Just as she was about to crumple it into a ball, a weak, hesitant voice interrupted her.

“Are you… drawing Shen Ruoshuang?”