The morning sunlight filtered weakly through the blinds, spilling over Jiang Yue's face. Her phone hadn't stopped buzzing since dawn. At first, she thought it was her alarm, until she groggily reached for it and saw the endless flood of notifications.
Her eyes widened.
#ToLoveToLoseToHeal was trending worldwide.
Clips of her performance from last night's poetry event had gone viral, across Weibo, Instagram, Twitter, TikTok, even Facebook. People were crying in duet reactions, their eyes red, some clutching tissues while quoting her lines. Fan comments screamed across the screen:
"I felt every word in my bones."
"She saved me tonight."
"Who is Jiang Yue? A goddess in human skin?"
"Global publisher deals incoming."
And then… memes. Endless memes.
Her tear-streaked face had been edited onto angel statues, Renaissance paintings, even dramatic K-drama scenes. Someone had posted: "Forget idols, I'm stanning a poet now."
Jiang Yue buried her face into her pillow, groaning. "Why does everything always blow up too fast…"
Tessa barged into her room with bed hair and a piece of toast sticking out of her mouth. "Girl. GIRL. You're world-famous. Do you even realize Vogue Asia just emailed you? And some literary magazine in France? France, Yue! You're going international!"
Jiang Yue peeked up from under the covers, horrified. "I didn't even brush my teeth yet and you're telling me the world is watching?"
"Yes!" Tessa flung her toast aside dramatically. "And guess what? Zhou Meili already crawled out of the pit of irrelevance. She's doing interviews saying you 'plagiarized her style' because she used to write poems in high school."
Jiang Yue blinked. "That's… not even how plagiarism works."
"Since when do smear campaigns need logic?" Tessa snapped, scrolling through her phone. "She's already got hashtags like #FakeMuse and #PlagiaristPoet floating around. But don't worry, your fans are obliterating them. Someone even wrote a rap diss track against her last night."
Jiang Yue rubbed her temple. Fame felt like standing on a stage while the crowd either threw roses or rocks, no in between.
And tonight was the Aurora Awards Gala, a star studded event where she'd been invited last minute as a special poetry performer. The invitation felt like fate's cruel joke.
"Do you think I'll survive an award show?" Jiang Yue asked faintly.
Tessa smirked. "Honey, with your luck? The question isn't if you'll survive. It's what ridiculous headline you'll make while doing it."
The Aurora Awards buzzed with flashing cameras, glittering gowns, and a red carpet stretched long like a runway to doom.
Jiang Yue took a deep breath as stylists adjusted the delicate silk gown she'd been lent by a designer, cream with silver embroidery, draping like moonlight. For a moment, she almost felt… ethereal.
Tessa clapped her hands. "Perfect. You look untouchable."
The system's voice dinged in Jiang Yue's head:
[Warning. Probability of wardrobe malfunction: 86%.]
Jiang Yue froze. "WHAT?" she whispered under her breath.
Too late.
As she stepped onto the carpet, the seam near her hip snapped with a sharp rip. She gasped as the fabric began to unravel like an ill-fated ribbon.
The cameras exploded in flashes.
"Miss Jiang Yue, over here!"
"Is this a statement look?"
"Tragic muse in real time!"
Tessa shrieked, diving forward to clutch at the dress, but it was already sliding. Jiang Yue's face turned crimson. She was about to die of humiliation on live broadcast.
Suddenly, a coat draped over her shoulders—black, crisp, with the faint scent of cologne.
She looked up. Xu Jianyu.
One of Li Zhenkai's closest friends.
"Walk," he muttered, expression calm as stone. "Pretend nothing happened."
Tessa was already tying her hoodie around Jiang Yue's waist, fumbling like her life depended on it. Between the oversized hoodie and Jianyu's tailored coat, Jiang Yue now looked like a lost college student who had accidentally wandered into a gala.
And of course, social media caught it.
By the time she made it inside the venue, hashtags were already trending:
#TragicMuseInOversizedDrip
#WardrobeFailButMakeItArt
#XuJianyuHeroMoment
Meme edits showed her dramatically wrapped in the coat, with captions like "When fate strips you down but friendship covers you up."
Jiang Yue groaned, sinking into her chair backstage. "Kill me. Someone kill me now."
Tessa was howling with laughter. "No, no, don't you see? You've just started a whole new fashion trend. 'Poetic Streetwear.' Gucci's gonna call you by morning."
Even Jianyu cracked a rare smile. "You're… memorable, I'll give you that."
Jiang Yue buried her face in her hands. "I didn't want to be memorable. I wanted to be invisible."
Later that night, Jiang Yue checked her phone again.
Her viral poem was still trending. Zhou Meili's smear campaign had gained traction… but the wardrobe fail had completely overtaken it.
Global headlines screamed:
"Poet Jiang Yue's Heartfelt Recital Breaks Records, And Her Dress."
"The Muse Who Can't Catch a Break: Why Jiang Yue Is the Internet's New Darling."
"Wardrobe Malfunction Sparks Trend: Oversized Chic Is In."
Zhou Meili's team scrambled to push negative press, but every attempt was drowned by memes and edits of Jiang Yue smiling nervously in Jianyu's coat.
Jiang Yue stared at the screen, half horrified, half amused. Fate had once again taken her dignity and spun it into chaos.
A message pinged on her phone.
From Li Zhenkai.
> You made headlines again.
…Don't cry. They already love you.
Her heart thumped. She hadn't realized she'd been holding back tears until then.
She typed back quickly:
> It's not funny.
Seconds later, his reply came:
> No. It's not funny. It's fate.
Jiang Yue leaned back, clutching the coat still draped around her shoulders.
She didn't know if it was fate, or just her curse twisting life into bizarre theatre. But one thing was certain, she wasn't fading into the background anymore.
And neither Zhou Meili nor anyone else could stop that ripple.