His grotesquely twisted arm made some girls gasp in fright.
“Hospital! Get Wang-ge to the hospital!”
“Call an ambulance! No, just drive! Hurry!”
In the chaos, they dragged their half-dead boss away, stumbling toward the school gate.
A flashy sports car nearby roared and sped away.
With the main character gone, the crowd lost interest.
The sea of people that had surrounded them ebbed away, the chatter dying down as they dispersed.
Only the mess of broken pottery, dirt, and mangled rose petals remained.
The garish scent of roses mixed with the earthy tang of soil, creating an even more nauseating smell.
Hua Qi’an stood unmoving, expressionless, watching it all.
The commotion still trembled in the air, but inside she felt nothing—just annoyance.
Her desire for a quiet moment in the library had been shattered by this absurd farce.
Now, she just wanted to return to her own space and shut out all these foolish, irrelevant people and things.
She turned around, not hesitating, heading straight back to the dorm.
She could feel some probing stares clinging to her back, but she didn’t bother figuring out their meaning.
Back on the second floor, the hallway was cool and quiet.
Hua Qi’an took out her key and opened the door to Room 227.
The “click” of the lock seemed to divide two worlds.
The air inside was faintly scented with clean fabric.
This was the peace she wanted.
She tossed her backpack onto the desk and slumped tiredly into the chair.
Closing her eyes, she leaned back, trying to sweep away all the noisy, unpleasant images in her mind.
Yet Wang Chang’s last words stuck like a stubborn thorn.
“Now the whole school forum is saying it was you who stole me from Zhiyan—ruined my confession.”
The school forum…
Hua Qi’an’s brows furrowed unconsciously.
She’d never paid attention to those places full of gossip and vented emotions.
But now, a strange premonition wouldn’t let her ignore it.
She opened her eyes, her gaze darkening, and grabbed her charging phone.
Her fingers hovered for a moment, then finally tapped open the campus forum app she almost never used.
Sure enough, among the hottest posts on the homepage, a sensational thread was pinned at the top, marked with a glaring “Trending” icon.
[Shocking! The Sickly Beauty of the Archaeology Department Rejects Young Master Wang! The High-and-Mighty Chen Zhiyan Loses Out?] Hua Qi’an paused for a moment, then tapped in.
The main post had a high-res photo, clearly snapped by someone in the crowd.
In the photo, she stood under the camphor tree’s deep shade, the sunset’s orange glow dappled on her through the leaves.
She leaned back slightly, her face cold and openly disdainful.
Those always half-lidded, indifferent eyes were now sharp as icy blades, piercing straight ahead.
Opposite her, Wang Chang’s greasy face looked dumbfounded from the rejection, the bouquet of red roses heightening the drama.
The photo’s composition and lighting were impeccable, highlighting both her cool aloofness and Wang Chang’s ridiculousness, packed with narrative.
Whoever posted this really knew how to stir emotions—maybe a journalism major?
Hua Qi’an pressed her lips together, expressionless, and scrolled down to the comments.
[1st floor: Front row to watch the drama! Who is this girl? So bold, not giving Young Master Wang any face!]
[2nd floor: New to the internet? Isn’t this the back-view killer from the archaeology department that Young Master Wang offered a huge reward to identify the other day? Her name’s Hua Qi’an.]
[3rd floor: Damn, her face is even better than her back! That sickly, cool vibe—no wonder Young Master Wang is so obsessed.]
[4th floor: Am I the only one who thinks she’s just pretending? Young Master Wang is after her, so many people would kill for that chance, and she just puts on a sour face.]
Soon, the comment section split into two camps: those dazzled by her looks and those calling her ungrateful and fake.
None of it fazed Hua Qi’an—she even found it dull.
Until the tone shifted with a few odd comments.
[23rd floor: Don’t be fooled by her looks, I have inside info.]
[24th floor: Oh? Details? Bring on the gossip!]
[25th floor (OP replies to 23): Spill the tea! Don’t keep us waiting!]
[26th floor (reply to 23): Subscribing.]
[27th floor: Not to say, but didn’t you see how she looked at Young Master Wang, like he was trash? That superior look…tsk, I know why she’s so confident.]
Reading this, Hua Qi’an’s heart sank a little.
She kept scrolling.
[35th floor: I’ll spill—don’t know if this’ll get deleted. Hua Qi’an’s been someone’s sugar baby for a while. Used to be frugal, but a friend saw her get out of a million-yuan car, calling the woman inside ‘sister’ so sweetly.]
[36th floor: What?! For real? The sponsor’s a woman? That’s wild.]
[37th floor: So that’s why she doesn’t want Young Master Wang? She’s already got a richer backer?]
[38th floor: Is that ‘someone from the archaeology department’ from the other thread her?]
[39th floor: Maybe—after all, she’s playing both her sugar mommy and our school goddess Chen Zhiyan. Two-timing between a rich lady and a rich beauty, that’s skill.]
Beneath this was a blurry photo—the one from the night she’d pulled Chen Zhiyan out of Wang Chang’s trap.
It was fuzzy, but their builds and clothes were recognizable.
The picture had already been making the rounds on the forum, since Wang Chang used it to search for her.
In an instant, public opinion flipped.
The “sickly beauty” persona crumbled, replaced by nasty labels like “schemer,” “promiscuous,” and “two-timer.”
[45th floor: Now I get it, she’s not a sickly beauty, she’s the ultimate player—like a succubus reborn, huh?]
“Succubus”?
Ridiculous.
Hua Qi’an scrolled the cold screen, feeling utterly speechless.
These people were masters at making something out of nothing.
How did she become a “succubus”?
She clicked into the troublemaking account, but found nothing.
She gave up, browsing other threads.
Wang Chang’s missing person post was trending again after the earlier incident…
Hua Qi’an took a look—it was an anonymous account providing her info.
It wasn’t the same as the one stirring trouble in the other thread.
That anonymous profile was private too, so she couldn’t see anything.
Hua Qi’an frowned.
She stopped reading those pointless comments, quit the thread, and typed her own name into the forum’s search box.
Besides the two threads she’d just seen, everything else seemed normal.
Still, she sensed something was off.
So she slowly typed in “Chen Zhiyan” instead—
The top result was marked “Hot.”
It was posted this afternoon, right after her confrontation with Zhao Yingying at the academic office.
The ID was an anonymous account made up of gibberish.
But Hua Qi’an recognized it instantly—
It was the same account that had provided Wang Chang her info earlier.
She opened the thread, its title brimming with malice and provocation.
[Gossip: Someone in the archaeology department is two-timing, playing both an off-campus sugar mommy and the campus goddess!]
The content was even more detailed and vicious than the previous comments.
“The certain someone” was described as being chauffeured around in luxury cars, behaving intimately with a mysterious rich woman.
“Scheming to get close to and seduce the finance department goddess, Chen Zhiyan.”
There were even claims of a sponsor backing her up and oppressing “innocent” classmates.
The post painted her as a greedy, deceitful, manipulative gold-digger, treating everyone around her as mere stepping stones.
The writing dripped with venom, and the replies were all scathing.
In the latest replies, someone had already linked clues from the earlier thread to this post, asking the OP if “the certain someone” was Hua Qi’an. “Heh…”
Looking at this “manifesto” of a post, Hua Qi’an actually laughed coldly instead of getting angry.
A faint, chilly laugh echoed through the empty dorm, strangely eerie.
Truly… what a painstaking effort.
To weave together such a “clear” timeline and stitch together all these so-called “pieces of evidence” so seamlessly—
Who else could it be but the one who’d always harbored malice against her and observed her every move up close?
Luxury car, Chen Zhiyan, recent conflict…
All the clues in her mind pointed to one name.
Zhao Yingying.
Hua Qi’an could practically picture her, gnashing her teeth at her keyboard, gloating over her “masterpiece.”
Pathetic.
She thought this would destroy her?
Hua Qi’an put down her phone, its dark screen reflecting her emotionless face.
..
She wasn’t angry.
Not really.
She almost wanted to laugh.
To her, all this online filth was like summer mosquitoes—annoying but ultimately harmless.
She just felt… tired.
A deep weariness from within.
Why was it always like this?
In middle school, the girls who cornered her, suffocating her under the guise of “liking” her.
Now, Zhao Yingying, warped by jealousy.
They only ever saw the figments they imagined—phantoms they thought they could control or destroy.
The sun had set, and the streetlights outside glowed with a soft, gentle light, not quite bright enough.
She stood slowly, walked to the balcony, and looked down at the vibrant little garden below.
The wind rustled the camphor tree leaves.
She thought of the electric pot she’d thrown out, of Zhao Yingying’s face twisted with rage and fear.
And… of Wang Chang’s oily, greedy gaze from earlier.
Trouble, like vines, would just keep growing back in unexpected places no matter how many times she cut them down.
“….”
Hiding was useless.
Even tearing off the mask only brought temporary peace.
As long as she stayed here, these troubles would never stop coming her way.
Hua Qi’an’s eyes grew colder.
She slowly raised her hand, staring at her still-red, swollen left hand—punished by Lin Yanqiu.
…
The burning pain in her palm now served as a strange warning, keeping her alert and awake.
Weakness and retreat wouldn’t bring peace.
Only by becoming strong enough, so strong that everyone was afraid to mess with her, could she truly crush all these bothersome flies for good.
She turned, walked inside, and picked up her textbooks from the desk, her eyes filled with unprecedented determination.
First, review.
She needed that scholarship, needed to earn enough money, needed to pay off Lin Yanqiu’s debt, and escape all of this for good.
As for Zhao Yingying…
Hua Qi’an’s lips curled in a cold, emotionless arc.
If she liked playing with public opinion, then Hua Qi’an would show her—public opinion… isn’t a weapon you can use against just anyone.