Rong Xichen stepped out of the dimly lit janitor's closet, his expression unreadable, only to come face-to-face with the one person he least wanted to encounter.
"Xi ge, how have you been?"
The voice was sweet, practiced, deliberately lilting—yet to him, it grated like nails on glass. Yu Mian stood there, her smile bright and eyes dripping with false concern, every word carrying that coquettish lilt that made his jaw tighten.
"I'm fine," he replied curtly, his tone as cold as the morning frost. His gaze slid past her, already signaling disinterest, but Yu Mian wasn't the type to take a hint.
"You look tired," she continued, feigning sympathy. "Is it because of Zhao Chen? I heard he's in the hospital…"
Rong Xichen's eyes snapped back to hers, sharp as a blade. "How do you know that?" His voice was low, controlled, but the danger in it was undeniable.
Yu Mian's painted lips curved into a knowing smile. "I heard it from Xiao Yu," she said lightly, as if dropping the name was nothing more than casual conversation.
The moment the words left her mouth, a flicker of irritation burned behind Rong Xichen's dark eyes. He stepped closer—not menacingly, but with the kind of quiet authority that pressed down heavier than a shout.
"Listen, Yu Mian." His voice was smooth but ice-cold, each word deliberate, heavy. "The only reason I'm standing here, letting you waste my time with this performance, is because of old times' sake. Don't mistake that for forgiveness. Don't even think I've forgotten what you did to him."
Her smile faltered for a heartbeat, but she quickly rearranged her face, trying to mask it with practiced charm. It didn't matter. Rong Xichen had already turned away, his long strides carrying him down the hall without sparing her another glance.
His heart, however, was anything but calm. Each step seemed heavier than the last as frustration and guilt tangled in his chest. The memory of Zhao Chen—pale and broken in a hospital bed—flashed behind his eyes, igniting a fury that had nowhere to go but inward.
I should've protected him better.
The thought tore through him like a blade, raw and unforgiving. He clenched his jaw, forcing the emotions back behind the mask he wore so well. By the time he entered his first class of the day, his expression was perfectly cold again, but his fingers tightened around his pen as though it was the only way to ground himself.
"Xiao Yu, according to our investigation, all evidence points to you being guilty of drugging your fellow classmate and engaging in cyberbullying. As such, you shall be suspended until further notice," the principal declared gravely.
For a beat, Xiao Yu just sat there, wide-eyed, lips parted as though he couldn't believe what he'd heard. Then he let out a soft laugh—short, sharp, dripping with disbelief.
"Suspended? Me? For that?" He tilted his head, his smile curving upward, almost mocking. "Well… of course. Why not? It's easier to blame the clown than the audience, isn't it?"
The principal's brows furrowed. "Xiao Yu, this is serious. Don't you have anything to say in your defense?"
"Oh, I do." Xiao Yu leaned forward on the desk, chin propped on one hand, the picture of lazy arrogance masking the tremor in his chest. His eyes glittered with something that looked like mischief but tasted like venom. "I'll take my punishment. Suspend me, expel me, make me a criminal in your little school drama—why not? But let's not pretend Yu Mian is innocent. She's the one who told me to drug him. She promised that if I did, things would 'work out.' Funny, isn't it? Things did work out—just not for me."
The room fell heavy with silence. The principal's lips pressed into a thin line, clearly unsure whether to believe the words or dismiss them as petty deflection.
"We will investigate that matter as well," he said finally, though his tone carried more weariness than conviction. He slid a sheet of paper across the desk. "For now, this is your suspension order."
Xiao Yu took the paper with exaggerated care, his fingers brushing it like it was some grand certificate. "Ah, my first award from this school. I should frame it," he said with a crooked smile, though his voice wavered just enough to betray the sting beneath the sarcasm.
He stood, straightening his uniform with dramatic flair, and turned to leave. At the doorway, he glanced back, smile still painted firmly on his face.
"Don't worry, Principal. When Yu Mian sinks her claws into the next person, I'll be sure to clap from the sidelines."
And with that, he walked out, paper in hand, heart pounding, smile unshaken—because if he didn't laugh at his own downfall, he might just break.
Xiao Yu stepped outside the principal's office, suspension letter clutched in his hand. He squinted up at the sky, sighed dramatically, then tossed his hair back like some tragic movie star.
"On the bright side," he muttered to himself, "I'll finally be free from this prison they call a school. Maybe I should go on a mini-vacation. Beach, sunglasses, some handsome lifeguard rescuing me while I pretend to drown—ah, the dream."
"Host," Shiroi's flat voice rang out in his head, "don't you think about your best friend at all?"
Xiao Yu froze, then let out an incredulous laugh. "Best friend? Who? Zhao Chen? Please. My best friend would believe me no matter what, no questions asked. What I have here—" he waved the suspension slip like it was some cursed talisman, "—is a court trial where I'm the villain and the jury hates my face. I'm tired, Shiroi. Let me be a weak, pitiful flower for once."
"Mm," Shiroi hummed, unimpressed. "Flowers don't stomp on their rivals and trip them in the hallway, Host."
"That was called self-defense," Xiao Yu sniffed, stepping down the stairs like an actor walking the red carpet. "Besides, Zhao Chen won't die from one little scandal. He's too… sturdy. All I need is a week off. One week, and then I'll drag Yu Mian down myself. Into the mud. Face-first. And after that, I'll make sure Zhao Chen doesn't have to suffer another second. Sounds fair, doesn't it?"
Shiroi sighed like a tired teacher dealing with the class clown. "Host, I advise you to visit Zhao Chen in the hospital. It will push the plot. Honestly, I'm already tired of staying in this world. And we still have so many more to go…"
Xiao Yu groaned so loudly a passing student jumped. He threw his hands up to the sky like a martyr about to be executed. "Ah! Fine! Off to the hospital we go! Sacrificing my vacation time for the sake of the plot. Shiroi, if I collapse from stress on the way there, I'm haunting you."
"You're already halfway haunting me with your whining," Shiroi muttered.
Xiao Yu gasped, clutching his chest as he unlocked the car. "Ungrateful system! Here I am, giving Oscar-worthy performances, and you're booing from the audience. Truly, my life is a tragedy."
"Tragedy?" Shiroi deadpanned. "You just got suspended. That's called a vacation with paperwork."
"…Touché." Xiao Yu slid into the passenger's seat with a pout. "Still, if Zhao Chen doesn't cry when he sees me, I'm turning this car around."