The festival lights glowed across the courtyard, casting long shadows over the stone tiles. Laughter and music floated through the air, but Liang Meiyu sat apart from it all, tucked under a maple tree at the far edge of the school grounds.
Her hands still shook from the speech she had given earlier. Her chest still ached with the rawness of it. But there was also a strange lightness—like a chain had fallen away, even if others remained.
The crowd's clapping still echoed in her ears. For once, the rumors had not crushed her. She had stood. She had spoken.
But courage came with consequences.
Her phone buzzed on her lap.
Two names, two messages.
[Wen Haoran]: Can we talk?
[Zhao Yichen]: Don't disappear. I'm coming to find you.
Her throat tightened. Two messages, back-to-back, pulling her in opposite directions.
She didn't reply. She couldn't.
Instead, she hugged her knees and buried her face against them, wishing the world would pause, just for a moment.
But the world didn't pause.
"Why do you always hide here?"
Her head snapped up. Yichen stood a few steps away, his tie loosened, his shirt collar open as though he had come running. His hair was slightly messy, his expression unreadable but his eyes sharp—always sharp.
Meiyu scrambled to her feet. "Yichen… I—"
He closed the distance in two strides, his hand grabbing her wrist before she could back away.
"Don't." His voice was low, almost a growl. "Don't ever let them silence you again. You think I didn't see their faces when you spoke? They couldn't even look you in the eye. You crushed them without even trying."
Her lips parted. "I wasn't… crushing anyone. I just—"
"You stood up," he interrupted. His grip loosened, but he didn't let go. "And I've never been prouder."
Heat rushed to her cheeks. She turned her face away, trying to breathe steadily. "You don't have to say things like that."
"I don't say things I don't mean."
The words hit her harder than they should have.
But before she could respond, another voice cut in.
"Let her go."
Her heart stopped.
Wen Haoran stood just beyond the lantern light, his bag slung over one shoulder, his eyes burning into Yichen's hand around her wrist.
Yichen's jaw tightened. Slowly, deliberately, he released her.
Meiyu's pulse hammered as she looked between them. The tension was suffocating.
"Haoran, I—"
But Haoran's gaze never left Yichen. "You think grabbing her makes you better than the people spreading rumors? You don't own her."
Yichen's eyes narrowed. "And you do?"
"I don't need to," Haoran said sharply. "I just respect her enough not to treat her like she's something to claim."
Meiyu flinched, her chest aching. She wanted to speak, to calm them, but her throat closed up.
Yichen's laugh was cold. "Respect? You've been protecting her like she's a child who can't speak for herself. That's not respect. That's pity."
Haoran stiffened. "Better pity than whatever you're doing—dragging her into your mess just because you can't admit what you feel."
The words hit harder than fists. Yichen froze for a split second, then his expression darkened, storm gathering in his eyes.
Meiyu's hands trembled. She couldn't let this spiral. Not now.
"Stop it!" Her voice cracked, desperate. Both boys looked at her.
She sucked in a shaky breath, tears stinging her eyes. "I'm not some prize for you two to fight over. I'm me. And right now, I don't know what I feel. I don't know who I…" Her voice broke. "Who I can trust."
The silence that followed was deafening.
Yichen's fists clenched, his eyes softening for just a heartbeat before he looked away. Haoran's shoulders slumped, regret flickering in his gaze.
Neither spoke.
Meiyu turned, her legs shaking, and walked away from both of them.
She needed space.
---
Later that night, in the quiet of her room, Meiyu sat at her desk staring at her reflection in the dark window.
Her phone buzzed again.
Another message.
But this time, not from Yichen or Haoran.
[Unknown Number]: You really think they'll forgive you? Smile all you want—it won't save you next time.
Her blood ran cold.
Lin Qian wasn't finished.
---
The next morning, the atmosphere at school was different. Whispers still followed her down the hall, but they weren't as sharp, not as venomous. Some girls even smiled faintly at her as she passed. A few boys nodded awkwardly, like they didn't know how else to react.
She had cracked the wall. But cracks could heal—or collapse.
In class, Yichen sat with his head propped on his hand, his eyes occasionally flicking toward her. He didn't speak, but the intensity of his gaze was enough to make her heart skip.
Haoran, meanwhile, sat one row behind, his pencil tapping against his notebook, his silence heavier than usual.
Meiyu kept her head down.
The triangle was no longer just whispers. It was real, it was raw, and it was pulling at her from both sides.
And Lin Qian?
She watched from across the room, her eyes narrowed, her lips curled into a smile that promised fire.
This battle wasn't over. It had only just begun.
---