Zheng Wenxuan asked with a hint of worry, “Yecheng, what’s wrong? You seem upset.”

“Mm… it’s nothing serious. I just want to sleep for a bit,” Yecheng replied. He’d briefly considered opening up, but didn’t know where to begin.

“How about going for a walk? Staying cooped up in the dorm all day must be suffocating,” Zheng suggested.

“I just want to sleep right now,” Yecheng said before falling silent.

He pulled the blanket over himself and listened to the soft hum of the air conditioner. Inside, it felt as though a cat were clawing at his heart.

“She clearly doesn’t like you,” He Xiaohan’s voice suddenly echoed in his mind.

A wave of exhaustion crashed over him again.  
*Forget it. Maybe Ji Qingying really doesn’t like someone as worthless as me.*

The thought made him even more dejected.

He Xiaohan…  
Just thinking about him stirred a tangled mess of emotions—resentment, envy, jealousy, frustration, and despair.

At dinner, Yecheng skipped the cafeteria. He had no appetite and dreaded the possibility of running into *them* there.  
He stayed in the dorm playing video games until around seven or eight in the evening, then decided to go for a run and grab something to eat on the way.

This time, his run didn’t leave him utterly drained. Though he still wasn’t back to his usual stamina, at least he wasn’t gasping for breath halfway through.

Afterward, he ate something light. The physical exertion washed away some of the heaviness in his chest.  
*Exercise really does help lift your mood.*

He walked slowly back to the dorm. On the path, he passed a couple holding hands, forcing him to slow his pace even more.  
He was exhausted—right now, all he wanted was to get back, take a shower, and sleep.

Back in the dorm, he gathered his clothes and headed into the bathroom.  
Seeing He Xiaohan lounging around so carefree instantly irritated him.

In Yecheng’s eyes, everything He Xiaohan did now felt like a taunt. He knew his mindset was off, yet he couldn’t stop the spiraling thoughts.

Warm water streamed down his face and over his body. As he lathered up with shower gel, his fingers brushed against a spot on his chest—sending a dull ache through him.  
But he didn’t care right now.  
Thinking about another hospital visit—and the cost—rippled fresh frustration through his mind, just as he’d started to calm down.

When he stepped out of the shower, the other three were huddled together, deep in conversation.

“I’m still really curious—how did you get Ji Qingying to forgive you?” Liu Xianlin asked seriously.

Yecheng didn’t want to hear it—but with arms full of wet laundry, he couldn’t slip away unnoticed.

“It’s simple—she already liked me a lot,” He Xiaohan said with a smile. “I just reassured her. She probably thought I was planning to chase other girls when I said those things.”

“For example, telling her she’s important to me, that she’s the only one, promising to stop my old habit of flirting around…”

“Basically, sincerity matters most. Words alone aren’t enough—you’ve got to back it up, paint a big picture, or take immediate action…”

Liu Xianlin and Zheng Wenxuan listened, wide-eyed.

“Gotta admit, you really know your stuff when it comes to this,” Liu said.

“And then?” Zheng pressed.

“And then… nothing. Honestly, she’s kind of boring,” He Xiaohan said, pulling out a pack of cigarettes.

“What? You broke up again?” Liu frowned.

“Why?” Zheng’s expression grew complicated. He couldn’t wrap his head around He Xiaohan’s on-again-off-again games. “If you wanted to split up, why bother getting back together in the first place?”

“I was just in a good mood—acted on impulse,” He Xiaohan shrugged. “Anyway, I could never genuinely fall for her. It’s better to end it cleanly—less hassle later with family expectations and all that.”

“Won’t she… you know… do something drastic after being jerked around like this?” Zheng asked, concerned.

“No, she’s got her best friend,” He Xiaohan said casually.

“I think Ji Qingying’s actually a decent person. Messing with her like this… that’s really crossing a line,” Zheng said helplessly.

He Xiaohan lit a cigarette and stepped out onto the balcony.  
“People are the same—it just depends on which side they choose to show you. If you don’t dig deep, what you see is pretty limited.”

He walked over to stand beside Yecheng, who was hanging up his damp clothes.

“Cheng, you seem kinda down,” He Xiaohan said softly, genuine concern in his voice.

Yecheng took a deep breath. “Yeah… I really am.”

He meant: *Leave me alone.*

“Feeling lonely? Want me to hook you up with a girl?”

“No, thanks.” Yecheng’s face darkened instantly.

“What’s really going on, then?” He Xiaohan looked genuinely puzzled. “Breakup?”

“It’s nothing,” Yecheng sighed, feeling oddly mocked.

“Nothing’s insurmountable. Just distract yourself a bit,” He Xiaohan offered gently. “Sometimes letting go brings more peace than holding on.”

“I know,” Yecheng replied, his voice tinged with resignation.

His pent-up frustration, with nowhere to go, curdled into a sharp sense of helplessness.

“How about joining me tomorrow morning for a photo walk? There are some nice spots around campus,” He Xiaohan suggested, his voice calm and clear, carrying a faint scent of tobacco.

“Not interested,” Yecheng muttered, still gloomy. Once he’d finished hanging his clothes, he grabbed his bucket and headed back inside.

He flopped onto his bed, utterly drained.  
Only now did he truly realize—*he really was worthless.*

Why would Ji Qingying ever like someone like him?  
He didn’t even know himself. But from what He Xiaohan had just said, it was clear: *He knew exactly how to charm girls—far better than Yecheng ever could.*

*Fine. No point dwelling on it.*

His eyes grew hollow.  
Love was supposed to be between two people—yet somehow, He Xiaohan had become the third party hurting him.

A fresh wave of injustice welled up inside him.  
But no one knew he was hurting. He had no one to confide in—only himself to bear it.

Why didn’t he have a true friend—someone he could pour his heart out to?

He took another deep breath. Inside him, a small vortex began to swirl, pulling all his thoughts into its depths.

*Why does He Xiaohan get to do whatever he wants? Why can he toy with people’s feelings and still walk away looking perfectly at ease?*

Jealousy, resentment, and a quiet, gnawing shame surged within him once more.

—

I get it, I get it—I’ll update early tomorrow. You won’t have to wait long. (Before 2 PM.)

Hmm…

Writing psychological depth is genuinely tough. That’s why what you’re reading has gone through countless rounds of rewriting and editing.

When I write a character, I always try to fully immerse myself—to feel what they’d feel in that exact moment, to think as they would think.

But I’m not God—naturally, some of my own emotions slip in, and inevitably, there’ll be imperfections.

All that internal monologue? It’s not filler—it serves the character. If you insist on calling it “padding,” well, I can’t help that. I’m not a skilled writer. If you want the kind of prose that moves you to tears, maybe you should write it yourself! Clearly, the future of Chinese web novels rests in your hands!

Thanks so much for your support, my lovelies. I adore you all~