The fireworks had long ended, but the echoes of the night still lingered. Liang Meiyu lay awake in her room, staring at the ceiling.
Sleep was impossible. Every time she closed her eyes, she felt the grip on her wrist, the venom in that faceless voice, the chilling words: "You don't belong here."
Her phone lay on the desk, dark and silent now. She had half a mind to throw it away, but she couldn't. Whoever was tormenting her, they knew how to reach her.
And they won't stop.
She curled tighter under her blanket, clutching the bunny Haoran had won for her. For the first time since she arrived at this school, she felt truly unsafe.
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The next morning, the classroom buzzed louder than usual. It didn't take long for Meiyu to notice why.
"They say she was crying during the fireworks."
"Of course, she ran away again."
"Haoran and Yichen were fighting because of her. What else is new?"
"Honestly, she's such a burden."
The whispers slithered through the air, sharper than knives.
Meiyu lowered her gaze, slipping into her seat as if shrinking could make her disappear. But shrinking only made her stand out more.
Across the room, Zhao Yichen leaned lazily against his desk, but his eyes were trained on her. His usual arrogance was gone, replaced by something harder. He hadn't spoken to her since last night—not a single word.
And Wen Haoran, seated two rows away, gave her a faint, reassuring smile whenever their eyes met. But even his smile couldn't erase the tension radiating through the classroom.
"Good morning, class." The teacher entered, but even she couldn't drown the restless buzz. Students stole glances at Meiyu like she was the lead actress in a scandal no one wanted to miss.
By lunch break, her head pounded. She slipped out quietly, hoping the courtyard would be quieter.
Instead, she found Yichen waiting.
He didn't move when she approached, just shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
She froze. "…What?"
"Whoever that was," Yichen said flatly. "It wasn't the first time they threatened you, was it?"
Her lips parted, but no sound came out.
His gaze darkened. "I knew it. You've been keeping this from us."
Her hands trembled. "I-I didn't want to cause trouble—"
"Trouble?" His voice sharpened. "You think someone targeting you isn't already trouble? You think hiding it makes it better?"
Tears pricked her eyes. "I didn't want either of you fighting because of me."
Yichen's jaw clenched. For a moment, silence hung between them, broken only by the sound of distant chatter.
Finally, he muttered, almost too low to hear, "Idiot."
Her breath caught.
"You think I fight with Haoran because of you? No. I fight because I can't stand the thought of you looking at him the way you look at me."
Her heart lurched, but before she could respond, another voice cut in.
"Yichen."
Wen Haoran stood by the courtyard gate, his expression calm but his tone like ice. "You're making her cry again."
Yichen shot him a glare. "Stay out of this."
"No," Haoran replied, walking closer. He placed himself between Yichen and Meiyu, his hand brushing hers gently as if to steady her. "You think yelling at her helps? She's already carrying enough."
"She wouldn't have to carry anything if people stopped treating her like a saint," Yichen snapped. "You coddle her so much she doesn't know how to stand on her own."
Haoran's smile turned sharp. "And you push her so hard she can't breathe."
The courtyard thickened with tension again, but this time Meiyu couldn't bear it. She stepped back, her voice trembling but firm.
"Stop."
Both boys looked at her.
She swallowed hard, her fists tightening at her sides. "I don't need you to fight over me. I don't need you to decide how I should handle things. This… this is my life. My fight."
Yichen's eyes widened slightly, and Haoran's expression softened.
For the first time, Meiyu felt her own voice echo louder than the whispers around her. Her heart still raced, but she didn't waver.
"I'll deal with whoever is doing this. I won't just hide behind either of you anymore."
Silence fell.
Yichen opened his mouth as if to speak, but closed it again. His gaze flickered with something unreadable—anger, pride, maybe even respect.
Haoran let out a quiet sigh, his smile faint but bittersweet. "You've changed, Meiyu."
Her lips trembled. "Maybe I had to."
The bell rang then, breaking the moment. Students began trickling back into classrooms, but Meiyu lingered. She could feel eyes on her still, whispers waiting to bloom again.
But for the first time, she didn't bow her head.
She lifted her chin, clutching the bunny against her chest. Even if her hands still shook, even if her heart still feared the shadows—she wouldn't let them see her break.
And in the shadows of the school gate, someone watched her with narrowed eyes, fingers scrolling on a phone screen.
[Anonymous]: Brave words, little doll. Let's see how long you last when everyone turns against you.
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