Zhao Chen lay on the stiff hospital bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling, but his mind refused to rest. It spun relentlessly—images flashing one after another. Xiao Yu's silly smiles, Rong Xichen's quiet presence, the sharp sting of betrayal, the humiliating photo plastered online, the bitter taste of losing his best friend, the suffocating moment when he almost ended it all. Now here he was, body weak, spirit torn, and still… still part of him wanted to believe the liar who had started it all.
The door creaked open. A wave of rose perfume floated in, clashing against the sterile stench of antiseptic.
"Ew. This place reeks of medicine," a woman's voice chimed, sugary and disdainful all at once.
Zhao Chen turned his head slowly, eyes narrowing. "What do you want?" His voice was clipped, ice-cold.
Yu Mian stepped closer, her painted smile softening into something pitiful, practiced. "I know I've done things that don't deserve forgiveness," she began, her tone feather-light now, "but I need you to understand—I was forced. I was threatened."
Zhao Chen's lips pressed into a thin line. "Then you should've reported it," he said flatly, gaze hard on her face.
She bit her lip, lowering her eyes in false shame. "I… I know you used to be friends with Xiao Yu. But you deserve the truth. The reason he did all this… the reason you were the one attacked instead of Rong Xichen, his rival… it's because he's pretending. Pretending to have changed."
Zhao Chen's heartbeat stumbled. His mind screamed at him not to listen, but curiosity clawed through the cracks. "…Cut the bullshit. Skip the drama. Say what you came here to say, and leave."
Yu Mian's lashes fluttered up. Her next words were sharp, deliberate.
"Your so-called friend is in love with Rong Xichen. And because of that, he tried to ruin you."
The words dropped like stones in Zhao Chen's chest. He pieced it together—Xiao Yu's constant theatrics, his mocking jabs at Rong Xichen, his smiles that sometimes looked too forced. He'd always claimed to hate Rong Xichen… but then why was he the one drugged? Why was he the one destroyed?
"And you?" Zhao Chen's voice cracked sharper than he intended. "Why did you help him?"
Yu Mian clasped her hands together, her face pale with the perfect touch of guilt. "Because I was threatened," she whispered.
"I don't believe you," Zhao Chen spat. His eyes blazed, though deep down his chest ached with doubt. "Just go."
"I am telling you the truth. If you don't believe me, ask him yourself." Her smile flickered for a split second before she turned, the click of her heels echoing through the sterile room.
The moment she stepped into the hallway, the pity vanished, replaced with a sly curve of her lips. I told you to leave silently, Xiao Yu. You didn't listen.
Zhao Chen let out a dry laugh, but it held no humor—only pain. "So he was in love all along," he muttered under his breath. His fists clenched in the sheets. "He should've told me…"
Outside the hospital room, Xiao Yu dragged his feet beside Rong Xichen.
"I heard you got suspended," Xichen said, his voice flat.
"Yeah," Xiao Yu sighed dramatically. "Apparently, this school doesn't do 'innocent until proven guilty.' Meanwhile, the real culprit gets to strut around like a saint. Tch." His eyes darted toward the door. "Xi-ge… do you think Chenchen will forgive me?"
"I haven't forgiven you," Xichen replied coldly. "Don't expect him to." He pushed the door open without another word.
Inside, Zhao Chen's tired smile flickered when he saw Rong Xichen. "You're here."
"And I'm here too!" Xiao Yu chimed in, forcing a bright tone as he flopped into the chair.
The smile on Zhao Chen's face vanished instantly. His eyes hardened. "What do you want?"
Xiao Yu's usual dramatics fell away, leaving something rawer. "I came to ask for forgiveness. I… really did horrible things, Chenchen. Things that must've cut deep. And I know—" his voice wavered, "—I know how much it must've hurt."
"Then why did you do it?" Zhao Chen asked, voice sharp as glass.
Xiao Yu's throat bobbed. He forced himself to meet Zhao Chen's eyes. "Because I wanted to hurt Rong Xichen."
For a moment, silence crashed down like a wave. Zhao Chen's expression trembled, but Xiao Yu pressed on, desperation leaking through. "I miss our friendship. I know we can't go back, but at least… don't look at me with hatred in your eyes. Give me one chance. I'll do anything to make things right."
The plea hung in the air until Zhao Chen suddenly asked, his voice low but steady: "Are you in love with Rong Xichen?"
Both Xiao Yu and Rong Xichen froze.
"What nonsense is that?" Rong Xichen snapped, irritation flashing. "He hates me, and I hate him. Don't make baseless assumptions."
But Zhao Chen's gaze didn't waver. He waited.
Xiao Yu's lips parted, then closed. He laughed weakly, but his eyes glistened. "That's not relevant."
Zhao Chen's control cracked, his voice rising. "Not relevant? You say you hate him, yet you never touched him! You never drugged him, never humiliated him online. But me? I was supposed to be your best friend, and you destroyed me! Why, Xiao Yu? Was it because I was close to him? Because we both had feelings for him?"
"I… I didn't mean to take it this far," Xiao Yu whispered, shaking his head. "I was blinded. Manipulated. I—"
"You ruined my life!" Zhao Chen's voice broke, thick with rage and grief. "You tried to dump the blame on Yu Mian, but the truth is—you never laid a finger on the man you 'hated.' And you expect me to believe you despised him? I'm not stupid. You're worse than a snake, Xiao Yu. All you do is spread poison. Selfish bastard."
"Chen." Rong Xichen finally spoke, trying to steady the storm. "Don't curse like that. Let's at least hear him—"
But Xiao Yu's mask shattered. He surged to his feet, fists trembling. "I'm sick of this! No matter what I say, you'll believe her over me. I've tried—again and again—to atone, and it's never enough. Fine." His eyes brimmed, but his smile was sharp. "Be it."
"Answer me, then," Zhao Chen said coldly. "Are you in love with him?"
Xiao Yu's chest rose and fell, his silence stretching like a taut string. At last, he exhaled, voice cracking but firm.
"I am." His gaze flicked to Rong Xichen, heavy with sorrow. "I always have been."
He smiled—small, broken, beautiful—and left, the door closing with a soft click that sounded louder than any slam.
Zhao Chen let out a dry laugh, but it held no humor—only pain. "So he was in love all along," he muttered under his breath. His fists clenched in the sheets. "He should've told me…"
Outside the hospital room, Xiao Yu dragged his feet beside Rong Xichen.
"I heard you got suspended," Xichen said, his voice flat.
"Yeah," Xiao Yu sighed dramatically. "Apparently, this school doesn't do 'innocent until proven guilty.' Meanwhile, the real culprit gets to strut around like a saint. Tch." His eyes darted toward the door. "Xi-ge… do you think Chenchen will forgive me?"
"I haven't forgiven you," Xichen replied coldly. "Don't expect him to." He pushed the door open without another word.
Inside, Zhao Chen's tired smile flickered when he saw Rong Xichen. "You're here."
"And I'm here too!" Xiao Yu chimed in, forcing a bright tone as he flopped into the chair.
The smile on Zhao Chen's face vanished instantly. His eyes hardened. "What do you want?"
Xiao Yu's usual dramatics fell away, leaving something rawer. "I came to ask for forgiveness. I… really did horrible things, Chenchen. Things that must've cut deep. And I know—" his voice wavered, "—I know how much it must've hurt."
"Then why did you do it?" Zhao Chen asked, voice sharp as glass.
Xiao Yu's throat bobbed. He forced himself to meet Zhao Chen's eyes. "Because I wanted to hurt Rong Xichen."
For a moment, silence crashed down like a wave. Zhao Chen's expression trembled, but Xiao Yu pressed on, desperation leaking through. "I miss our friendship. I know we can't go back, but at least… don't look at me with hatred in your eyes. Give me one chance. I'll do anything to make things right."
The plea hung in the air until Zhao Chen suddenly asked, his voice low but steady: "Are you in love with Rong Xichen?"
Both Xiao Yu and Rong Xichen froze.
"What nonsense is that?" Rong Xichen snapped, irritation flashing. "He hates me, and I hate him. Don't make baseless assumptions."
But Zhao Chen's gaze didn't waver. He waited.
Xiao Yu's lips parted, then closed. He laughed weakly, but his eyes glistened. "That's not relevant."
Zhao Chen's control cracked, his voice rising. "Not relevant? You say you hate him, yet you never touched him! You never drugged him, never humiliated him online. But me? I was supposed to be your best friend, and you destroyed me! Why, Xiao Yu? Was it because I was close to him? Because we both had feelings for him?"
"I… I didn't mean to take it this far," Xiao Yu whispered, shaking his head. "I was blinded. Manipulated. I—"
"You ruined my life!" Zhao Chen's voice broke, thick with rage and grief. "You tried to dump the blame on Yu Mian, but the truth is—you never laid a finger on the man you 'hated.' And you expect me to believe you despised him? I'm not stupid. You're worse than a snake, Xiao Yu. All you do is spread poison. Selfish bastard."
"Chen." Rong Xichen finally spoke, trying to steady the storm. "Don't curse like that. Let's at least hear him—"
But Xiao Yu's mask shattered. He surged to his feet, fists trembling. "I'm sick of this! No matter what I say, you'll believe her over me. I've tried—again and again—to atone, and it's never enough. Fine." His eyes brimmed, but his smile was sharp. "Be it."
"Answer me, then," Zhao Chen said coldly. "Are you in love with him?"
Xiao Yu's chest rose and fell, his silence stretching like a taut string. At last, he exhaled, voice cracking but firm.
"I am." His gaze flicked to Rong Xichen, heavy with sorrow. "I always have been."
He smiled—small, broken, beautiful—and left, the door closing with a soft click that sounded louder than any slam.