The night was still, save for the soft murmur of crickets and the occasional crackle from the dying campfire in the distance. The lake reflected the stars above, its surface calm as glass, as though it too were holding its breath for what was about to unfold.
Meiyu stood frozen between the two boys, her heartbeat louder than the sounds of nature. Zhao Yichen was on her right, his dark eyes sharp and unreadable. Xu Haoran stood on her left, his expression softer, almost vulnerable, but no less intense.
She swallowed hard. Why now?
"Haoran," she began hesitantly, "what is it you wanted to talk about?"
Haoran's gaze lingered on Yichen for a moment before shifting back to her. His voice was quiet, steady, but every word seemed heavy with the weight of things unsaid.
"Meiyu… I like you."
The world seemed to stop spinning. She stared at him, eyes wide. He didn't look embarrassed or playful—his face was serious, his tone raw with honesty.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Yichen's jaw tighten.
Haoran took a small step closer. "From the first time I saw you in the library, fumbling with that mountain of books, I knew there was something about you. You're different from everyone else—kind, genuine. You don't pretend. Every time you laugh, it feels like the whole room gets brighter. And every time you're upset, I can't stand it."
Her breath caught. She had never heard Haoran speak this way. He was usually easygoing, teasing, calm—but now, his emotions spilled over like a river breaking free of a dam.
"You deserve someone who will take care of you, who won't confuse you with games or anger," he continued, his eyes flicking briefly toward Yichen. "I want to be that person, Meiyu. I want to make you smile every day. So… will you give me that chance?"
The silence that followed was deafening.
Meiyu's lips parted, but no words came. Her thoughts were a tangled mess. Haoran's confession was sweet, heartfelt, and it tugged at her heart in ways she hadn't expected.
But before she could gather herself, Yichen's voice cut through the night like a blade.
"No."
Both Meiyu and Haoran turned toward him, startled.
Yichen stepped forward, his tall frame casting a shadow across the ground. His usual smirk was nowhere to be found. Instead, his eyes burned with an intensity that made Meiyu's chest tighten.
"She doesn't need to answer you, Haoran. Because she's not yours to claim."
Haoran's brows furrowed. "And what gives you the right to say that?"
Yichen's fists clenched at his sides. "Because I've been here from the beginning. I've been watching her, protecting her, arguing with her just so she'd look at me. I may not know how to say things the way you do, but my feelings aren't any weaker. I—" He broke off, his voice catching, then finished firmly, "I love her."
The words hung in the air like fireworks, bursting silently in Meiyu's chest.
Her knees felt weak. She gripped the hem of her sweater, trying to process what she had just heard.
Haoran's jaw tightened. "So that's it? You think yelling at her and picking fights is love?"
Yichen's eyes flashed. "Don't twist it. I argued with her because it was the only way I knew to keep her close. I was stupid, I admit it. But every moment I spent with her—even when she was annoyed—I treasured it. She got under my skin in a way no one else ever has. And I won't just hand her over to you."
The air between them was thick with tension, two storms colliding head-on.
Meiyu's heart raced, torn between the sincerity in Haoran's confession and the fiery passion in Yichen's declaration.
"Stop it," she said suddenly, her voice trembling.
The boys both turned to her.
"I…" She swallowed hard. "I can't—this is too much. I don't want you two fighting because of me."
Her eyes stung. "Yichen, Haoran… you're both important to me. But I can't give you an answer right now. I don't even know what my own heart is telling me."
Haoran's expression softened immediately, guilt flickering across his features. He stepped back slightly, giving her space. "I'm sorry, Meiyu. I didn't mean to pressure you."
Yichen didn't move. His gaze was locked on her, a storm raging behind his eyes, but after a long pause, he exhaled slowly. "Fine. I'll wait. But don't think for a second I'm stepping aside."
Meiyu hugged her arms around herself, the cool night air biting at her skin. She wished the ground would open up and swallow her whole.
Why did life have to become so complicated?
---
Later, when she finally returned to her tent, her classmates were already asleep. She lay awake, staring at the fabric ceiling, replaying their words over and over.
I like you.
I love you.
Two voices, two confessions, two hearts pulling her in opposite directions.
Her own heart beat wildly, confused yet undeniably moved. She didn't know how long it would take to sort her feelings out, but one thing was certain: nothing between the three of them would ever be the same.
---
The next morning, the air was crisp, the lake covered in a thin layer of mist. Classmates bustled about, preparing breakfast and laughing over the campfire challenge from the night before. But the atmosphere between the trio was heavy.
Meiyu avoided eye contact with both boys as she helped set plates. Haoran remained polite and cheerful, but his smile was quieter than usual. Yichen stayed close, his presence protective but restrained, as though he was holding back from another explosion.
During the team-building games that day, the tension simmered beneath every interaction. When Haoran offered Meiyu his hand across a tricky bridge, Yichen immediately moved closer, ready to steady her himself. When Yichen cracked a rare joke that made her laugh, Haoran's eyes dimmed just slightly.
It was as if the entire class could feel the rivalry now, though no one dared comment aloud.
That night, as the trip drew to a close, the students gathered for one final activity: writing wishes on paper lanterns and setting them afloat across the lake.
Meiyu knelt on the wooden dock, brush in hand, staring at the blank slip of paper. What should she write?
Behind her, she could hear Yichen and Haoran speaking in hushed tones—arguing again, no doubt. But she tuned them out, focusing instead on her own thoughts.
Finally, she wrote a single sentence:
I wish to find the courage to follow my heart.
When she released the lantern, it drifted across the water, its light flickering gently against the darkness.
She didn't know what tomorrow would bring, or which path her heart would choose. But as she watched her lantern float away, she felt a spark of hope ignite within her.
Maybe, just maybe, she'd figure it out.
---