The morning sunlight filtered through the classroom windows, casting warm stripes across the desks. But Liang Meiyu's stomach twisted in knots.
Every glance felt sharper than usual. Every whisper seemed louder.
"Did you see the notice board?"
"It's about her again."
"Can you believe she's still acting so innocent?"
Meiyu's fingers curled around her pen, her knuckles pale. She tried to focus on the teacher's lecture, but the murmurs dragged her attention away like invisible chains.
Finally, curiosity clawed at her. She excused herself between classes, heart pounding as she slipped into the hallway.
The crowd gathered by the notice board told her everything before she even reached it.
Students clustered together, laughing, whispering, pointing. And right at the center of it all were photographs—dozens of them, printed and plastered across the board.
Her own face stared back at her.
Photos of her at the festival. Laughing with Haoran. Standing close to Yichen. One where Haoran was brushing dust from her shoulder. Another where Yichen was glaring at her as though she belonged only to him.
The captions written beneath in thick black marker made her blood run cold.
"Playing two at once?"
"Sweet smile, poisonous heart."
"Trouble in her smile, indeed."
Laughter rippled through the students. "She must be enjoying it. Two guys fighting over her."
"Disgusting. She's just stringing them along."
"Guess the rumors were true."
Meiyu's breath hitched. Her vision blurred, the board spinning before her.
"No…" she whispered. "This isn't—this isn't true."
A harsh laugh cut through the whispers. "Defending yourself again? Don't waste your breath."
It was Lin Qian, one of the girls who had always looked at her with disdain. She folded her arms, her tone dripping with venom. "You think being quiet makes you innocent? Everyone can see you're just leading them both on. How pathetic."
Students nodded, their murmurs fueling the fire.
Meiyu stumbled back, clutching the strap of her bag as if it could hold her together. Tears pricked her eyes, but she refused to let them fall here—not in front of them.
And then—
"What the hell is this?"
The voice cracked through the crowd like thunder.
Zhao Yichen shoved past the students, his sharp eyes blazing as he tore the photos down with a single sweep of his arm. The papers scattered across the floor like ash.
"Who did this?" His voice was low, dangerous. "Who dares put this garbage up?"
Silence. No one moved. No one spoke.
Haoran appeared next, his usual calmness gone. He crouched to gather the torn photos, his hands trembling as he saw the captions. His jaw tightened, and when he rose, his voice was like steel.
"Whoever did this crossed a line."
But the silence remained. Dozens of eyes stared at Meiyu, the whispers louder than words.
Yichen turned, his gaze locking on her. His chest heaved with anger, but when he saw her trembling, pale face, something inside him cracked.
"Meiyu…" His voice softened for the first time that day.
But she shook her head. "No." Her voice was small but steady, cutting through the whispers. "Don't… don't say anything. Not right now."
The tears she had been holding back finally spilled over. She pushed past them both, her legs moving before her mind could catch up. She didn't stop until she reached the empty stairwell, her breaths ragged, her chest burning.
Why? Why won't it stop?
Her phone buzzed. Her heart sank. She already knew who it was.
[Anonymous]: Nice performance. But this is just the opening act. The real show hasn't even begun.]
Her grip tightened until her nails dug into her skin.
She wanted to scream. To throw the phone. To disappear.
But deep down, she knew—running wouldn't solve this. Not anymore.
If she didn't fight back, this shadow would consume her.
And she couldn't let that happen.
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