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墨書 Inktalez
Jiang Chi's expression darkened completely, cold enough to freeze the air around him. His thin lips pressed into a straight line, and his gaze was sharp as a knife, fixed intently on Meng Yao, exuding a low pressure that made it hard to breathe.
At that moment, my heart sank to the icy depths of the sea. Although I had long known Meng Yao's feelings for Jiang Chi, hearing her confess so openly and recklessly still pierced my heart like countless fine needles, causing a dense ache. I instinctively gripped the strap of my backpack tightly, my knuckles turning white from the pressure.
How would he respond? Would he accept her? After all, Meng Yao was so beautiful, came from a good family, and although her personality was somewhat domineering, she was undeniably… dazzling. When they stood together, perhaps they truly embodied the ideal of "a talented man and a beautiful woman" in the eyes of others.
Time seemed to stretch infinitely. Every second felt like a century of unbearable tension. All eyes were focused on Jiang Chi, waiting for his final judgment.
"I'm sorry," Jiang Chi finally spoke, his voice cold and devoid of warmth, yet carrying a resolute finality that shattered all fantasies. "I can't accept."
The color drained from Meng Yao's face in an instant, turning pale as she quickly blinked back tears. "W-why?" Her voice trembled with emotion, tinged with resentment as her gaze instinctively shot toward me. "Is it because of her?!"
A chill ran through me; all the blood in my body felt frozen. She had indeed shifted the blame onto me!
Jiang Chi followed her gaze to me, his expression deep and complex, revealing no emotion. He did not directly answer Meng Yao's question but replied in an extremely indifferent tone, "It has nothing to do with you."
Those four words struck like ice daggers into both our hearts.
Then he ignored the stunned and teetering Meng Yao entirely, not even glancing at me again. He simply said softly to me, "Let's go."
I followed him numbly like a puppet with its strings cut, escaping from this scene filled with awkwardness, embarrassment, and heartbreak. Behind us came the faint sound of Meng Yao's suppressed sobs and the excited yet sympathetic whispers of our classmates.
Once we were far from the library and those probing gazes, my heartbeat gradually steadied, though my limbs still felt weak. The earlier scene had been too shocking and chaotic.
"You..." I hesitated, wanting to ask him something—like whether his rejection of Meng Yao truly had nothing to do with me—or if it did… But his earlier cold statement of "It has nothing to do with you" felt like a bucket of cold water extinguishing all my unrealistic hopes.
"Don't take what just happened to heart," he suddenly said, his voice devoid of emotion as if he were discussing something unrelated to himself.
"Mm." I responded quietly, bitterness spreading within me. Indeed, his rejection of Meng Yao was simply because he didn't like her. That phrase "It has nothing to do with you" wasn't an attempt to distance himself; it was the truth. I had been deluding myself all along.
"Get some rest early," he said as we reached a fork in the road, looking ahead. "Do well in tomorrow's competition."
"Mm, you too."
We silently bid farewell and walked in opposite directions. Watching his tall yet solitary figure fade into the distance extinguished the small flame that had flickered within me due to his rejection of Meng Yao; it was blown out by the night wind, leaving only cold ashes behind.
This dramatic confession ended in Meng Yao's dismal defeat and my shattered heart. It felt like a heavy stone that not only crushed Meng Yao's fantasies but also seemed to carve out an even deeper and more insurmountable chasm between us.
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