Zhou Zhiyi watched Chu Xinyue’s darkening expression. He knew if he didn’t speak up now, he’d get beaten to a pulp. He hurriedly explained, "I meant girls with small chests. In other words, Wu Feng has a thing for flat-chested girls."

*Yeah, right.* As far as Zhou Zhiyi knew, not a single anime heroine Wu Feng liked had been flat-chested.

"R-really?!"

Chu Xinyue’s beautiful eyes sparkled with a strange light, dazzling as a rainbow after rain.

*You actually believed that?!*

*Was it true that women in love had zero IQ?*

"Of course."

"Th-that’s wonderful," Chu Xinyue murmured, covering her flushed cheeks with her hands. "I knew Xiao Feng liked me best."

*I doubt it’s what you think.*

Zhou Zhiyi forced a smile, playing along with her fantasy.

*Wait…*

*This isn’t the time for sarcasm.*

Zhou Zhiyi glanced out the window—toward the classroom opposite. Wu Feng had somehow appeared beside Liu Muyu. His lips moved nonstop, as if whispering urgently. Liu Muyu barely spoke, just like always. But this time, tears streamed down her face.

Zhou Zhiyi never thought a girl like Liu Muyu would cry. Yet here she was, weeping before Wu Feng. Then, she threw herself into his arms.

Wu Feng stood frozen like a wooden pole, hands awkwardly dangling at his sides—the classic protagonist caught off guard.

*Would Liu Muyu ever act like this?*

A headache throbbed behind Zhou Zhiyi’s temples. It wasn’t about Liu Muyu. It was the confusion gnawing at him.

*Why did Wu Feng succeed so easily when even my attempts to talk to Wu Yuyang got flat rejections? How could he win so effortlessly?*

"That vixen dares?!" Chu Xinyue’s voice turned icy, a dark aura swirling around her. "Let’s go stop them."

"You go. It’s none of my business."

"How can you say that? Look how heartbroken you are!"

"I’m just confused. Leave me be," Zhou Zhiyi replied, his voice unnervingly calm. "I’m leaving."

He turned to walk away. He had no reason left to stay.

"Wait! Don’t you like Liu Muyu? What kind of man walks away now?!"

Chu Xinyue grabbed his wrist, her voice sharp enough to carry across the hallway.

"Sorry. I lied. I don’t like Liu Muyu." Zhou Zhiyi pulled free. "Goodbye."

His shoes clicked sharply against the floor—a sound he heard clearly. Whether Wu Feng and Liu Muyu heard it didn’t matter.

It had nothing to do with him.

Honestly, this plot made perfect sense. It matched his earlier predictions exactly:

The male lead connects with the silent beauty. She opens her heart, then falls head over heels.

Nothing unusual here. Just another cliché.

Yet Zhou Zhiyi couldn’t accept it.

He remembered Wu Yuyang desperately comforting Liu Muyu—only to be scolded. The memory felt bitterly laughable.

*What expression would Wu Yuyang wear if he knew what he’d struggled for came so easily to Wu Feng?*

Thinking of Wu Yuyang eased Zhou Zhiyi’s chest. But the realization chilled him: his calm was built on another’s misery.

He didn’t remember the walk home.

His parents’ questions met only monosyllabic "Mm"s or silence.

Zhou Zhiyi lost track of how long he sat alone that day, thoughts churning in the quiet.