Unlike the cold, oppressive sixth-floor dorm or Hua Qi’an’s current quiet new dorm, Chen Zhiyan’s studio apartment was a world apart.
There was no pungent cheap incense here, no faint hint of gunpowder, and none of that suffocating tension.
Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city’s bustling nightscape unfolded, dazzling lights filling her entire field of view.
Inside, the central air conditioning was set at a constant temperature, and the air was laced with the understated elegance of high-end custom wood-scented aromatherapy—calm and serene.
Chen Zhiyan lay on her side atop the soft bed, dressed in nothing but a silk camisole nightdress, highlighting the graceful curves of a young woman.
Her long, fair legs crossed casually, slender ankles exposed, and her toenails were painted a sheer, nude pink.
One hand supported her chin, while the other idly scrolled across her tablet screen.
Displayed on the screen was the campus forum of Hangyang University.
To her, this place—overflowing with boring gossip and emotional outbursts—occasionally offered some decent amusement.
Very soon, several hot threads with bold red titles and a glaring “Explosive” caught her eye.
[Shocking! Archaeology Department’s Sickly Beauty Publicly Rejects Young Master Wang! Ice Goddess Chen Zhiyan Actually Becomes a Loser?]
“Loser?”
Her?
Chen Zhiyan softly murmured the word, the corners of her lips curling up uncontrollably.
In those always-gentle, radiant eyes, a glimmer flashed at odds with her outward appearance—a light of mischievous delight, almost bordering on joy.
Wang Chang, that idiot, really couldn’t resist bothering Qi’an after all.
She tapped open the post, and a candid photo—captured to perfection—immediately appeared.
In the photo, Hua Qi’an was cool and distant.
Even in a noisy crowd, she seemed to create her own silent world.
She leaned back slightly, her face displaying undisguised coldness and disgust—a wall as unyielding as steel, shutting Wang Chang’s greasy grin and gaudy roses outside.
Truly…
Chen Zhiyan’s eyelashes trembled lightly.
Too beautiful.
So beautiful it made her heart clench, her fingertips go numb.
Her finger glided lightly, almost greedily, over Hua Qi’an’s face on the screen.
This face—one she had imagined countless times, traced in countless dreams.
That always-washed-faded school uniform, quietly sitting in the classroom like a silent aquatic plant.
Yet, when she smiled, the whole world seemed to pale in comparison.
She scrolled down, glancing at the arguments in the comments—two opposing camps—but found them dull.
Until a few comments, with a dramatically different tone, appeared and brightened her eyes.
They piqued her interest.
[35L: Let me spill some tea, not sure if this will get deleted. That Hua Qi’an? She’s been kept by someone for a long time. She used to be super frugal, but not long ago my friend saw her get out of a luxury car worth millions. She even called the person ‘sister’—and it was so sweet, too.]
Sister?
Chen Zhiyan’s hand paused.
She recalled that period during her freshman year when she “paid attention” to Hua Qi’an from the shadows.
Those anonymous texts, that ever-present surveillance—she thought it would make Hua Qi’an notice her.
But unexpectedly, someone else barged in halfway.
A woman Hua Qi’an called “Sister.”
Lin Yanqiu.
It was this woman who stepped in between her and Hua Qi’an, shielding Hua Qi’an beneath her wing with such unyielding force that Chen Zhiyan had to temporarily hold back all her actions.
So, their relationship had already become the talk of “being kept”?
Chen Zhiyan’s lips curled into a frosty smile.
She continued scrolling.
[39L: Who knows, right? Anyway, she’s being kept on the one hand, and still stringing along our school’s goddess Chen Zhiyan on the other. Playing both sides, switching between the rich lady and the beautiful heiress—what skill!]
Below this comment was a photo of a familiar, blurry silhouette.
It was that night, when Wang Chang’s group surrounded them and Hua Qi’an had grabbed her hand and run.
The photo was blurry, but Chen Zhiyan remembered clearly how soft Hua Qi’an’s hand had been, how slender her wrist.
The determined grip she’d held onto while they ran in panic—how… moving it was.
“Playing both sides?”
Chen Zhiyan laughed quietly, her laughter echoing in the empty apartment, laced with a peculiar thrill.
Rather than angry, she felt an unprecedented rush of excitement.
These foolish people, with their meager imaginations, had managed to spin such juicy and poisonous rumors.
Yet they didn’t know that every word of theirs was like another brick in the wall of her and Hua Qi’an’s hidden relationship, binding their names together in a twisted way.
She could even picture Hua Qi’an’s face, usually so calm, displaying that troubled and helpless look when seeing these posts.
Just thinking about it made her body flush with excitement.
She exited that post and clicked open another, even more malicious thread from an anonymous account.
[Just venting about someone in the Archaeology Department—two-timing between a rich patron outside campus and the campus goddess!]
This post was even more detailed and vicious than the earlier comments, painting Hua Qi’an as a greedy, calculating gold-digger.
The post’s ID was an anonymous string of gibberish.
But when Chen Zhiyan clicked into that account’s profile and randomly tapped a few times, she easily used her admin privileges to see the real name behind it.
Zhao Yingying.
Wasn’t that the person Hua Qi’an had helped deliver a love letter to?
Probably her roommate.
Recalling the confidence-laced, syrupy love letter, Chen Zhiyan sneered.
Of course.
Who else could describe Hua Qi’an’s daily life in such “authentic” detail?
Truly… a noisy, annoying fly.
Chen Zhiyan’s eyes turned cold.
She promptly reported and blacklisted the account from the forum, citing “personal attack and slander.”
After all this, she closed the forum and tossed the tablet onto the covers.
She slowly stood, barefoot on the plush wool carpet, and walked step by step to the floor-to-ceiling window.
Outside, the city’s night glimmered as ever, but in her reflection she saw only her own smiling face.
That face—always dignified and gentle, mimicking her deceased sister—now revealed her own true smile, brimming with possessiveness.
Public opinion?
For Hua Qi’an, maybe it was trouble.
But for her, Chen Zhiyan, this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
She turned, walked back to the living room, picked up her phone, and deftly opened her public social account.
The posts there were mostly serene photos and a few vaguely poetic lines.
Thanks to the past two days’ rumors, there were plenty of nosy private messages and comments urging her to say something.
Today, she planned to drop a bombshell.
Her fingers danced swiftly over the cold screen.
After a moment’s thought, she finally typed: [Thank you to the friend who pulled me away in a moment of danger. She’s not in good health, so please don’t believe rumors or bother her.]
A seemingly lighthearted clarification, but brimming with suggestive ambiguity.
“Friend”—that word alone was full of possibilities.
“In a moment of danger”—turning that childish confession debacle into a dramatic rescue.
“She’s not in good health, don’t bother her”—blatantly exposing the unusual nature of their relationship.
She made no attempt to address or deny the “two-timing” rumors.
She simply clarified the events of that night.
But these words quietly told everyone: Look, in my eyes, she’s so wonderful, so different.
What lies between us is far deeper than you can imagine.
She hit send.
Afterwards, an immensely satisfied smile spread across Chen Zhiyan’s face.
She could almost foresee the storm this update would stir up.
Sure enough, within five minutes, her phone was vibrating non-stop.
The notification bar flooded with comments like falling snowflakes.
[Ahhh goddess herself finally responds?!]
[“Friend”? I get it, I totally get it. (dog head emoji)]
[Wuwuwu Zhiyan-jie is so gentle, still protecting her!]
[So all those rumors are fake? Is it just jealousy?]
[Are you guys that naïve? Didn’t you notice Chen Zhiyan never mentioned anything about the “patron”?]
[Am I the only one who thinks this clarification sounds kind of manipulative…?]
Looking at these comments—some supportive, some skeptical, some outright abusive—the smile in Chen Zhiyan’s eyes only grew.
Let it be chaotic.
The more chaotic, the better.
Whether praise or slander, their names would be inseparably bound together.
She leaned back on the sofa, her slender fingers gently gliding over the screen as if caressing a lover’s cheek.
On it was a photo she had never shown anyone.
In the photo, Hua Qi’an crouched on the ground, gently wiping dirt off a little girl’s face at a welfare home.
Sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting a gentle halo around her.
She bowed her head, profile soft and serene, lips holding a faint, genuine smile.
It was Chen Zhiyan’s favorite smile.
She’d taken the photo last year, while volunteering.
“Qi’an…”
She murmured the name, her voice filled with obsession and longing.
“Now, the whole school knows our relationship isn’t so simple…”
…
Elsewhere…
In a high-end residential district of Hangyang City, everything was as quiet as a painting.
Inside Lin Yanqiu’s apartment, only the ghostly white light from her phone illuminated her sharply-defined, utterly emotionless face.
She had just finished a seven-hour autopsy.
Too tired to even shower upon coming home—she just wanted to sleep.
But a text message, like a stone dropped into still water, shattered the rare tranquility.
The sender was her “friend” in charge of network security for Hangyang University.
A true internet junkie.
Last year, when Hua Qi’an was being harassed, she’d asked this person for help.
A message at this hour was certainly unusual.
“Yanqiu-jie, do you check the forum?”
“(link)”
“…Check those posts on the homepage.”
Lin Yanqiu frowned but still tapped the link.
The homepage loaded a few trending posts—all mindless gossip.
She was about to exit and scold her friend, when she spotted a photo that made her finger pause on the screen.
That familiar face instantly seized her full attention.
At once, she knew why her friend had messaged at this hour.
“(attachment)”
“I finished compiling everything before sending.”
Clearly, the other person knew Lin Yanqiu’s temperament and had prepared the report in advance.
Before she even needed to ask, it was already sent over.
Exiting the forum, Lin Yanqiu opened the attachment—a neatly organized report.
From forum post screenshots, IP traces, to analysis of the troublemaking anonymous accounts.
First to catch her eye was that perfectly composed, prominently featured photo.
[Shocking! Archaeology Department’s Sickly Beauty Publicly Rejects Young Master Wang! Ice Goddess Chen Zhiyan Actually Becomes a Loser?] In the photo, Hua Qi’an’s face bore naked coldness and disgust.
Lin Yanqiu’s gaze lingered long on that face.
She knew it too well—every minute expression.
But she wasn’t very familiar with this one.
For a moment, she was almost dazed.
She understood: only feeling deeply offended would make Hua Qi’an show such an expression.
Her gaze drifted down, catching sight of those ugly comments.
[…She’s been kept for ages. Used to be super frugal, but recently my friend saw her step out of a luxury car worth millions, calling the owner ‘sister’ in the sweetest voice.]
“Heh.”
A sound, soft and chilling, slipped from Lin Yanqiu’s thin lips.
Kept?
Patron?
Sister?
Wasn’t that her?
These words, far from angering her, instead brought a sense of absurd, almost sickly delight.
Indeed, Hua Qi’an was someone she “kept.”
Every cent spent on Hua Qi’an was meticulously recorded in her little notebook.
Just the medical expenses alone formed a thick stack.
Hua Qi’an belonged to her, and she never cared to hide it from anyone—she was just too lazy to say it.
Legally and privately, she had guardianship over Hua Qi’an.
After all, they were even registered on the same household register now.
But now, someone had twisted that private bond and exposed it to the world.
It felt as if her treasured possession—never to be touched by others—had been fondled by filthy hands and then flaunted to the world for its “flaws.”
Someone actually dared to put “her person” on display like a commodity, for everyone to jeer at and insult…
Hua Qi’an’s fragile body, those crescent-moon eyes when she smiled—they all belonged to her.
To guard or to destroy—only she, Lin Yanqiu, could do that.
When had it become the turn of these flies to pass judgment?
Her finger slid over the cold screen, flipping to the next page.
[…Anyway, being kept by a patron and stringing along our school’s goddess Chen Zhiyan. Playing both sides between the rich lady and the heiress, what a schemer.]
As soon as the words “Chen Zhiyan” appeared, the air around Lin Yanqiu seemed to freeze over.
If the “kept” rumors before just left her offended, this name paired with the photo immediately ignited the green fire of jealousy inside her.
Chen Zhiyan.
Finance Department’s beauty at Hangyang University, a dazzling figure wherever she went.
That blurry photo—holding hands, running together—was like a poison needle stabbing Lin Yanqiu in the eye.
Their hands had been joined like that.
“Playing both sides,” “caught between…” Lin Yanqiu felt the vein on her forehead throbbing madly.
How could her person be bound up with another woman in such ambiguous fashion, becoming fodder for other people’s gossip?
Leaning back in her chair, Lin Yanqiu tapped a steady rhythm on the tabletop with her slender fingers.
The air in the apartment seemed to congeal, with only the repetitive “da, da, da” echoing through the stillness.
She didn’t immediately grab her phone to interrogate Hua Qi’an.
First, she needed to pluck the wings off those annoying, insolent flies.
Lin Yanqiu picked up her phone, found a number in her contacts, and dialed.
The call was answered almost instantly.
“It’s me.”
Her voice betrayed no emotion.
“Since you’ve already written the report, I assume you’ve checked everything?”
The person on the other end was clearly used to her brisk manner.
“Knew you’d call. Sending it now.”
Half a minute later, a document arrived.
She opened it to find Zhao Yingying’s student record, complete with ID photo.
Lin Yanqiu’s lips curled into a chilling, bloodless smile.
She vaguely remembered the name.
After all, she’d just seen her at the academic office this afternoon… so it was a rat right by their side.
How perfect.
She couldn’t even be bothered to linger on such trivial information.
She’d gotten what she needed.
Now, it was time for that unruly, troublemaking little sick cat to get her turn.
Lin Yanqiu moved to the enormous floor-to-ceiling window.
In the glass, her cold, indifferent face was reflected.
She pulled out her phone and brought up the number she’d only dialed once but had long since memorized.
Her finger hovered for a moment, but in the end, she didn’t call.
Instead, she opened that social app and chose to send a message.
She didn’t want to interrogate, but… to summon.
She wanted Hua Qi’an to know…
Who was the only one she could depend on, and the only one she could never betray.
Lin Yanqiu’s fingertips slid across the screen.
…
On the other end, Hua Qi’an, who was just getting ready for bed, felt her phone vibrate.
Drowsy, she picked it up and unlocked the screen.
At this hour… who could be messaging her?
Seeing the name “Lin Yanqiu” in the contact remark, Hua Qi’an shivered.
Her eyes cleared instantly.
Only two messages came from the other end.
[Your campus life is really exciting.]
[Come to my office tomorrow.]
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