The next morning, the school corridors buzzed louder than usual. It wasn't just the usual festival excitement—the air felt different. Heavier.
Liang Meiyu realized it the moment she stepped into the building. Whispers followed her like shadows. Heads tilted in her direction, eyes narrowing, lips curling into sly smiles.
She slowed, clutching her bag tighter. "Why… are they all looking at me like that?" she murmured.
Her best friend, Lin Qinghe, rushed up to her. "Meiyu! Don't check your phone right now. Just don't—"
But it was too late. Her phone vibrated again, and curiosity betrayed her. She unlocked it, and there it was: a screenshot, already forwarded countless times.
Anonymous Post on School Forum:
"The so-called 'innocent' Liang Meiyu isn't what she seems. She plays sweet but she's only climbing higher by clinging to boys. First Zhao Yichen, now Wen Haoran? How many more?"
Beneath it was a blurred photo—her laughing with Haoran outside the rehearsal room yesterday, Yichen in the background with a scowl. Out of context, it looked scandalous.
Meiyu's breath caught. Her vision swam.
"No… no, it's not like that…"
Qinghe grabbed her wrist. "Don't listen to them! They're just jealous because you got the lead role!"
But the whispers grew sharper as more students passed.
"Typical."
"Knew she wasn't that innocent."
"Did she really think she could play the heroine? What a joke."
Each word pierced deeper than the last.
---
At lunch, things only got worse. Meiyu sat frozen at her desk while the classroom erupted with gossip. Some students weren't even subtle about it anymore.
"I heard she begged the class president to give her the role."
"Please, she's just hanging off Yichen and Haoran because they're popular."
"Pathetic."
Meiyu's hands trembled under the desk. She wanted to scream, but her throat was tight, her chest aching.
Then, a loud bang! startled everyone.
Yichen had slammed his hand against the wall, his dark eyes blazing as he glared around the classroom.
"Say that again," he growled at a boy who had just muttered the word pathetic.
The room went silent.
The boy stammered, shrinking back. "I—I didn't mean anything, Yichen, seriously—"
"Coward." Yichen clicked his tongue, then glanced at Meiyu. For once, there was no smirk, no teasing—only anger burning on her behalf.
But before she could react, Haoran stood from his seat. His voice was calm, but it carried weight. "Everyone stop. This kind of slander is pointless. Whoever posted that photo clearly wanted to cause trouble. Don't feed into it."
His words cut through the noise, steady as ever. Slowly, the whispers died down.
Meiyu looked at him, her throat tight. He had defended her in front of everyone, but somehow, his composure made her feel even smaller.
Why do I always need saving?
---
After class, Meiyu slipped out, needing air. She wandered toward the back garden where few students ever went. The autumn wind rustled through the trees, carrying the scent of fallen leaves.
She hugged her bag, fighting tears.
"Running away again?"
The voice came from behind. Of course it was him. Zhao Yichen leaned against a tree, hands in his pockets, watching her with unreadable eyes.
"I'm not running," Meiyu snapped, though her voice shook.
Yichen raised a brow. "Then what's this? Hiding out here like a ghost while the whole school talks about you?"
Her chest tightened. "You think I want them to? Do you think I asked for this?"
Something flickered across his face—guilt, maybe? But his words came out sharp. "Then stop looking so fragile. If you can't even handle a few rumors, how are you going to stand on stage in front of the entire school?"
The words stung. Tears threatened, but she bit them back.
"Maybe you're right," she whispered. "Maybe I don't belong on that stage."
She turned to leave, but his hand shot out, catching her wrist. His grip was firm but not harsh, his voice low.
"Don't twist my words." He stepped closer, shadows flickering across his face. "I didn't say you don't belong. I said you can't let them crush you. You're stronger than this, Liang Meiyu. I've seen it."
Her eyes widened. Yichen rarely spoke like this, so raw and unguarded.
For a heartbeat, the air between them felt charged—too close, too real.
But then a voice interrupted.
"Meiyu?"
She turned. Wen Haoran stood a few steps away, holding an umbrella though the sky was still clear. His calm gaze shifted between her and Yichen, lingering on the way Yichen still held her wrist.
The tension was suffocating.
Meiyu quickly pulled her hand free. "I—I was just leaving."
Haoran stepped forward, blocking her path slightly. "You don't need to face this alone. If it gets too much, I can talk to the teachers and have the post taken down."
"No." Meiyu shook her head fiercely. "If I let someone else fix it again, then they win. I'm… I'm going to prove myself on that stage. With or without their approval."
Both boys stared at her, surprise flickering in their eyes.
For the first time, she didn't sound like the girl they thought they knew.
---
That night, Meiyu sat at her desk, going over her lines until her throat was sore. Every word, every scene, she repeated again and again.
She wouldn't let them say she didn't deserve it.
But just as she closed her notebook, her phone buzzed once more.
[Anonymous]: You think you can stand tall? Tomorrow, we'll make sure you fall.
Her blood ran cold.
She stared at the message, heart hammering. Whoever this was—they weren't done yet.
And tomorrow, everything could get worse.