Zheng Wenxuan asked with a hint of worry, "Yecheng, what’s wrong? Feeling down?"

"Hmm, nothing serious. Just wanna sleep a bit," Xuye Cheng replied. He’d wanted to pour his heart out but didn’t know where to start.

"How about a walk? Staying cooped up in the dorm’s suffocating," Zheng Wenxuan suggested.

"Just wanna sleep now." Xuye Cheng fell silent.

He pulled the blanket over himself, listening to the air conditioner’s steady hum. A restless itch gnawed at his heart like a cat scratching inside.

"This just means she doesn’t like you." He Xiaohan’s words suddenly surfaced in his mind.

A wave of crushing fatigue washed over him again. Forget it—maybe Ji Qingying really didn’t like a loser like him. His mood sank deeper.

He Xiaohan...

Just thinking of him tangled Xuye Cheng’s emotions: resentment, envy, jealousy, disappointment, anger.

At dinner, Xuye Cheng skipped the cafeteria. No appetite—and he dreaded running into them there. He gamed in the dorm until seven or eight, then headed out for a run, grabbing a quick bite on the way.

This run felt less exhausting than before. Not as good as his old stamina, but at least he didn’t gasp halfway through. After eating, the physical tiredness scrubbed away his gloom. Exercise really did lift the mood.

Walking slowly back, he spotted a couple holding hands on a narrow path. Sighing inwardly, he matched their pace. All he craved was a shower and sleep.

Back in the dorm, he gathered his clothes and slipped into the bathroom. Seeing He Xiaohan lounging carefree, Xuye Cheng’s chest tightened with inexplicable irritation. To him, everything He Xiaohan did now screamed showing off. He knew his mindset was twisted, but he couldn’t stop overthinking.

Hot water streamed over his face and down his body. He lathered shower gel onto his skin. As his fingers brushed a spot on his chest, a dull ache flared—but he pushed it aside. The thought of hospital bills wrinkled his calmed mood again.

Stepping out, he found the trio huddled together.

"I’m still curious how you won Ji Qingying back," Liu Xianlin asked gravely.

Xuye Cheng didn’t want to listen, but he couldn’t slip away unnoticed—he was holding laundry.

"Simple. She already liked me," He Xiaohan grinned. "Just promise her. She thought my words meant I’d chase other girls."

"Like saying she’s important, I’ll treat her as the only one, quit my old flirting ways."

"Attitude’s key. But words aren’t enough—paint a big picture or act on the spot..."

Liu Xianlin and Zheng Wenxuan stared, dumbfounded.

"Gotta admit, you know this stuff," Liu Xianlin muttered.

"And then?" Zheng Wenxuan pressed.

"Then nothing. She got boring." He Xiaohan pulled out cigarettes.

"Huh? Broke up again?" Liu Xianlin frowned.

"Why?" Zheng Wenxuan’s face clouded. "You keep splitting and reuniting. If you wanted out, why bother?"

"Was in a good mood. Brain fart." He Xiaohan shrugged. "Couldn’t force liking her. Better to cut ties—later, family stuff’d complicate things."

"Won’t she get depressed?" Zheng Wenxuan worried.

"Nah. She’s got her best friend."

"Ji Qingying’s actually nice. Messing with her’s cruel," Zheng Wenxuan said helplessly.

He Xiaohan lit a cigarette and drifted to the balcony. "Same person—depends on the side she shows. Without depth, you see little." He stood beside Xuye Cheng as he hung clothes.

"Brother Cheng, you seem off," He Xiaohan asked, voice soft with concern.

Xuye Cheng inhaled sharply. "Yeah. Pretty bad." He meant: leave me alone.

"Lonely? I’ll hook you up with a girl?"

"No thanks." Xuye Cheng’s face darkened.

"What’s wrong?" He Xiaohan’s tone turned helpless. "Heartbroken?"

"Nothing." Xuye Cheng breathed deep, feeling mocked.

"Nothing’s insurmountable. Distract yourself," He Xiaohan soothed. "Letting go brings freedom."

"I know." Xuye Cheng’s voice grew weary.

Pent-up resentment brewed inside, twisting into sharp grievance.

"Join me tomorrow morning? Campus has nice spots for photos," He Xiaohan offered, his voice clear, carrying a faint tobacco scent.

"Don’t want to." Still gloomy, Xuye Cheng finished hanging clothes, grabbed his bucket, and retreated inside.

He collapsed onto his bed, exhaustion flooding him. Only now did he truly grasp how worthless he was. What reason did Ji Qingying have to like him? He didn’t know—but He Xiaohan clearly knew how to win girls over. Forget it. No need to dwell. His eyes turned hollow.

Love felt like a two-person thing, yet He Xiaohan had become the third who hurt him. Another wave of grievance crashed over him. No one knew he was wounded. No one to confide in. He had to swallow it alone. Why no true friend to pour his heart out to?

Xuye Cheng inhaled deeply. A small vortex swirled in his chest, slowly sucking in every thought.