With a heavy sigh, she decided to give her muddled brain a break.
It was a long break between classes, with plenty of time before the next one started. She resolved to head up to the rooftop for some fresh air to clear her mind.
Ever since fracturing her left hand, she hadn’t practiced dance at school. After so many days, this was her first time back on the rooftop.
The weather had cooled since National Day.
Jiang Wan tugged her collar tighter. The moment she pushed open the iron door, a gust of wind rushed in, laden with dust and grit that nearly blinded her.
She blinked to clear her vision, and there, perched sideways on the parapet wall, was a figure.
The sight was enough to make her heart skip a beat.
Jiang Wan’s face paled instantly. “Bei Huai! Get down from there!”
Bei Huai had mentioned sitting on the wall to sleep last time they were up here, but hearing about it was nothing compared to witnessing it firsthand. The thrill of danger hit far harder.
This was the rooftop, after all. A fall from here meant death or a lifetime of disability at best.
The familiar voice rang out across the rooftop. For a split second, Bei Huai wondered if she’d imagined it. But when she turned and saw the girl’s anxious expression, she knew she’d heard right.
“Who let you up here?” she said, her brow furrowing as she spoke in a low voice.
“Forget who let me up—you come down first!” Jiang Wan fixed her gaze unwaveringly on Bei Huai’s every move. She didn’t dare step closer abruptly, terrified of startling her into a misstep.
She knew this wasn’t the first time Bei Huai had done something like this, but that didn’t make it any less frightening.
The two stood locked in a tense standoff for several seconds. Finally, Bei Huai jumped down with a scowl.
The instant Bei Huai’s feet touched the ground, Jiang Wan rushed forward and seized her arm. Her voice trembled with anger and urgency. “Do you have any idea how dangerous that is? What if you fell!”
Even now, her heart was pounding wildly.
“Let go,” Bei Huai demanded, trying to wrench her arm free. She hadn’t expected the seemingly delicate girl to have such surprising strength—she couldn’t shake her off.
“No,” Jiang Wan shot back, her own temper igniting. She could overlook Bei Huai’s rudeness, endure her cutting words, but she absolutely could not tolerate her treating her own life so carelessly!
“I said, let go!” Bei Huai swung her arm hard, finally flinging the girl’s hand away.
In the motion, her sleeve rode up accidentally.
The tattoo on her forearm was exposed in plain view for Jiang Wan to see.
Before Jiang Wan could even process it, Bei Huai yanked her sleeve back down. Her expression turned colder than ever, her gaze utterly remote and unfamiliar.
“Who do you think you are to me?”
“What gives you the right to interfere in my business?”
“Get lost!”
Each word sliced into Jiang Wan’s heart like the edge of a blade.
In that moment, she realized she wasn’t nearly as tough as she’d believed. A single sentence from Bei Huai was enough to leave her utterly devastated.
She bit her lip, her eyes reddening, yet she stared stubbornly at Bei Huai.
“I thought… we were friends.”
“Heh.” Bei Huai let out a scoff. She’d meant to say something even harsher, something to ensure the girl never came near her again.
But seeing the aggrieved look on her face, the tears she was fighting back, the words caught in her throat.
Irritated, she lashed out with a kick at the wall. Her foot throbbed, but her heart ached even more.
“Not going? Fine, I’ll go!” With a cold glare, she stormed off, slamming the iron door behind her with resounding bangs.
Jiang Wan stood frozen in place. The strength she’d mustered on her face crumbled in an instant. Slowly, she sank into a squat, covering her eyes as silent tears streamed down.
She’d always been cherished and protected growing up, never treated this way before—especially not by someone she truly cared about.
It hurt. It hurt so much.
Even knowing Bei Huai had done it on purpose, the pain didn’t lessen.
It hurt so badly that she didn’t want to have anything to do with her anymore.
How could Bei Huai be so cruel?
Lately, everyone in Class 6 had clearly sensed a shift in the classroom’s atmosphere—an oppressive tension hanging in the air.
First, there was the change in Jiang Wan. The girl who usually greeted everyone with a sweet, spring-breeze smile had stopped laughing much lately. Most of the time, she was either buried in her homework or sitting at her desk, lost in a daze.
Next was Bei Huai. The one who had always given Jiang Wan special treatment was now skipping classes again, and the two of them had started acting like total strangers, not exchanging a single word.
Even Mi Shuyun had quietly asked, “Jiang Wan, what’s going on between you and Bei Huai?”
Ever since Bei Huai had helped teach Lu Bo a lesson last time, Mi Shuyun’s opinion of her had improved greatly. She no longer saw her as just some delinquent student.
“Nothing’s wrong,” Jiang Wan replied.
Mi Shuyun glanced at her friend’s blank expression on the desk and really wanted to ask, You sure about that?
Well, fine. Whatever makes you happy.
By contrast, Guanguan was much more straightforward. Anyone who made Jiang Wan unhappy was her enemy, plain and simple.
If Jiang Wan hadn’t stopped her, she probably would have marched right up to Bei Huai and given her a piece of her mind.
“That damn Bei Huai pisses me off!” Guanguan fumed.
“I’ve decided—no talking to Cen Jin for the next three days!” And yes, that was because Cen Jin was friends with Bei Huai. Guilty by association!
A laugh bubbled out of Jiang Wan. “Pfft, that’s a pretty big sacrifice you’re making for me.” After days of feeling down, Guanguan had finally coaxed a smile from her.
“Hey, Wanwan, that’s how you should look—smiling suits you so much better. Keep frowning like that all day, and you’ll turn into a little old lady before you know it!”
“Got it,” Jiang Wan said with a smile.
Jiang Wan’s mood had lifted a little, but over on Bei Huai’s side, things had hit rock bottom.
In the Lounge Bar.
Cen Jin propped her chin on her hand, watching as Bei Huai knocked back drink after drink. She tsked in disgust. “Hey, hey, you planning to get yourself wasted just so I’ll foot the bill?”
Bei Huai said nothing, just kept drinking until Cen Jin snatched the glass away. Only then did she stop.
“Give it back,” she demanded, her eyes glazed over and her face twisted in irritation.
“Enough already. The last thing I want is to drag a drunkard home.”
“Aw, come on. Why put yourself through this?” Cen Jin said helplessly.
“She shouldn’t get close to me. Nothing good ever comes from it,” Bei Huai said, staring at the bottle. Her gaze gradually lost focus as she muttered to herself.
“So I’m fine, huh? You’re not worried about dragging me down?” Cen Jin raised an eyebrow in challenge.
Bei Huai didn’t respond. She just gave Cen Jin a light, dismissive glance.
Cen Jin: “…”
Fine, she got the message. She wasn’t worthy.
“Look, I’m not trying to lecture you, but you’re you, and your mom is your mom. You’re two different people. Why worry about her? What, you think her lovesick brain is contagious or something?” Cen Jin pressed on, trying to talk some sense into her.
“My very existence is my original sin.” Bei Huai closed her eyes, her voice turning hoarse.
The purpose of her life was just to please others. No one would ever love her, and she would never love anyone. She would never follow in Yun Manzhu’s footsteps.
She was nothing more than a tool.
Even she found herself repulsive.
But Jiang Wan… she was too pure, too clean.
They were never meant to cross paths.
Getting close to her would only hurt her. Better to let Bei Huai sink into the abyss alone.
Her phone suddenly buzzed.
Bei Huai glanced at it casually and saw it was Bei Qi calling. Without a second thought, she hung up.
But perhaps because of the alcohol, her fingers weren’t cooperating. She fumbled and accidentally answered instead.
“Sis? You’re finally picking up! I’ve been looking everywhere for you, and you haven’t replied to my messages.” The voice on the other end sounded stunned that she’d actually answered.
“Get to the point, or I’m hanging up,” Bei Huai said. She forced herself to sit up straighter and rubbed her brow, her tone laced with impatience.
It might have been an accident, but now that the call was connected, she wasn’t going to hang up again.
“Uh, well, a few days ago, this senior named Jiang Wan came looking for me. You know her, right? I accidentally hit her with a basketball once before.”
“What did she want with you?” Bei Huai’s eyes sharpened, a flicker of clarity returning.
“She was asking about you, obviously.” Bei Qi shrugged, his mind replaying the scene from that day.
The girl had stood at the edge of the corridor, her eyes clear yet tinged with a faint, almost imperceptible sorrow.
He had apologized profusely. “I’m sorry, but this is my sister’s private business. I can’t tell you.”
“I can only say that my sister used to be an outstanding person too. But some things happened, and she started rebelling in all sorts of ways as a form of resistance. She… actually craves having people get close to her, but she subconsciously pushes them away.”
“All right, thank you.” Even without getting any useful information, the girl had nodded politely in gratitude.
As he watched her retreating figure, the words had slipped out of him: “Getting close to her… it might be really tough on you.”
The girl turned around with a smile, her gaze unwavering. “I know. But I still want to give it a try. Someone has to pull her out of the darkness, and out of everyone else, I want that someone to be me.”
“Why are you so good to my sister?” Bei Qi asked, genuinely puzzled. Were there really people this selfless?
“Because… I like her. I really want to be her friend and step into her world.”
“I felt that way the moment I first saw her.”
“Sis, honestly, I’m a little jealous of you. A girl this great—don’t push her away again. You’re too lonely on your own.” On the other end of the line, Bei Qi let out a sigh after speaking.
“Hiss, you brat—are you not taking me seriously?” Cen Jin called out in dissatisfaction from nearby.
Even though they were in the Lounge Bar, the atmosphere was still fairly noisy. Bei Huai had the speakerphone on, so Cen Jin had heard everything.
“Whoa, haha, Sister Cen, you’re there too? Misunderstanding—total misunderstanding!” Bei Qi apologized awkwardly.
Bei Huai hadn’t said a single word from start to finish. She simply hung up in silence.
She lowered her eyelids, lost in thought.
A few seconds later, she suddenly spoke. “Cen Jin, did I do something wrong?”
“What, having second thoughts?” Cen Jin squinted at her, swirling the glass of red wine in her hand with casual indifference.
Bei Huai slowly shook her head. After a moment’s pause, she said softly, “I just suddenly realized I shouldn’t have treated her that way.”
Shouldn’t have been so cruel to her.
A girl as perceptive as Jiang Wan would surely realize it had been deliberate.
And yet, even so, being treated like that would still hurt her.
Bei Huai knew she owed her an apology.
