"Don't scare her," He Xiaohan said, watching Zheng Wenxuan's excited expression. His tone turned slightly helpless. "That girl has it tough. With only a thousand yuan a month for living expenses, she's working part-time just to scrape by."
Zheng Wenxuan's face instantly softened with a trace of sympathy.
"Yeah, seems really rough," he murmured.
Listening to He Xiaohan, Xuye Cheng felt a bitter irony. He put on such a polite act in public—it genuinely disgusted Xuye Cheng. He didn't believe for a second that the hundred-yuan tip was some sudden act of conscience.
Hypocrisy. All hypocrisy.
"Well, this place isn't cheap," He Xiaohan added. "Landing this job isn't bad. At least she doesn't trade dignity for cash."
A flicker of melancholy crossed his eyes, but he quickly masked it. His kind smile returned.
"Wenxuan, why not help her out?" He Xiaohan teased lightly.
"Tsk, she probably has a boyfriend already," Zheng Wenxuan shot back. "A girl that pretty can't be single."
He Xiaohan waved a hand. "That's irrelevant."
Zheng Wenxuan's grin turned lecherous.
"Man, if she were my girlfriend, I'd wake at five AM to collect bottles just to spoil her."
Xuye Cheng grew uneasy listening, yet Zheng Wenxuan's words stirred a mix of disgust and unexpected warmth. He admired the sentiment toward girls—but hated being fantasized as one.
"What if she dumps you for another guy?"
He Xiaohan stared at him, then burst into amused laughter, eyes fixed on Zheng Wenxuan's face.
Zheng Wenxuan's expression froze, twisting into wounded outrage.
"Holy crap, no cuckolding!" His face scrunched up. "What cheesy drama is this?"
He Xiaohan spread his hands helplessly, glancing at Xuye Cheng's turned back. "Reality's far wilder than you think."
Zheng Wenxuan's features shifted—complex, then pitiful.
"No way. She's too cute to cheat on me."
"Looks are her leverage," He Xiaohan pressed. "With that capital, she'll chase better options. Would a stunning girl pick an average guy—or a handsome, rich one?"
Zheng Wenxuan sighed. "Obviously the handsome one. She's flawless; why settle for a loser like me?"
He took a deep breath. "I know reality bites. But daydreaming can't hurt, right?"
He Xiaohan stood, pulled a cigarette from his pocket, and patted Zheng Wenxuan's shoulder.
"Hang in there, Wenxuan. Hope you find love soon." His voice was earnest.
Zheng Wenxuan blinked in surprise.
"Bro He, got heartbroken too? You're acting weird today." He watched He Xiaohan step onto the balcony and light up.
"Am I?" He Xiaohan smiled. "Maybe it's your mindset changing."
"Or maybe..." Zheng Wenxuan's voice trailed off weakly.
Xuye Cheng listened, each word carving deeper hurt.
Yeah. Why would Ji Qingying want trash like him?
He felt utterly mocked.
Face it—he was exactly the type she'd despise.
He sighed, pushing up from his chair. When gloomy, Xuye Cheng ran to cope.
He sprinted an extra kilometer out of spite, until his limbs screamed with exhaustion.
He wanted to quit...
So tired. He knew this hope was dead.
Maybe he didn't love Ji Qingying—just the daily purpose she gave him. When they kept up that fake relationship, he'd felt himself improving.
She'd also given him rare validation—someone else's approval.
Now, he was back to feeling worthless.
His thoughts tangled. Strength drained completely. The playground's floodlights blazed, but at the edge, darkness swallowed everything.
As his aching legs stepped into shadow, Xuye Cheng's vision blurred.
Night's softness hid the world. Crowd noise buzzed nearby, yet the dark seemed to cover a hollow in his chest.
He felt deeply wronged.
His heart knotted. Exhaustion seeped into every thought.
It was all his delusion—a secret no one knew, no one cared about. He'd silently taken the pain alone.
He slowed his pace, breath ragged. Sweat dripped down his cheeks. A wave of injustice made his nose sting.
Pathetic...
Xuye Cheng wiped his brow. Salt touched his tongue. Sweat slid from his eye corner. His eyes burned hot. The world warped before him.
"Brother Cheng." A crisp voice cut through the dark behind him. Xuye Cheng stiffened, turning to He Xiaohan. He panted, then felt his throat clamp shut.
His mind blanked. Meeting He Xiaohan like this—disheveled, weak—flooded him with shame and shame.
Panic flickered inside.
"What?" Xuye Cheng replied, voice steady. But the moment he spoke, grief surged again.
He Xiaohan paused, then exhaled softly.
"Ji Qingying isn't who you think. Stop obsessing over her."
His gaze dropped to Xuye Cheng's face. In the dim light, He Xiaohan saw it—something glistening wetly in his eyes.
Xuye Cheng froze.
"You know?" His voice rasped, trembling at the end.
"Mm. She targeted me from the start. You were just her stepping stone." He Xiaohan spoke bluntly.
His eyes lowered. Then came a choked, broken sound from Xuye Cheng's throat.
