Rong Xichen stepped into the hospital room, worry creasing his usually impassive face. Zhao Chen lay on the bed, pale and weak, his eyes dull with exhaustion. The sight alone twisted something deep in Rong Xichen's chest.
His voice came out low but tight with fury.
"Did Xiao Yu do this to you?"
Each word was like a blade, sharp with barely contained rage.
Zhao Chen shook his head faintly. "No… he didn't."
His voice was strained—fragile, like a paper-thin whisper on the edge of breaking.
"I'm just… tired," Zhao Chen continued, eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Tired of everything. I don't want to live like this anymore."
He paused, lips trembling. "I don't belong anywhere. Everything is ruined. All of it."
There was a long silence, heavy and suffocating.
"…And even though he deserves it," Zhao Chen said quietly, "a part of me still wishes things could go back to how they used to be."
Rong Xichen's expression shifted, just slightly. The cold edge in his eyes softened as he looked at Zhao Chen. No words came immediately—just the echo of a truth he didn't want to accept.
"He doesn't deserve sympathy," Rong Xichen said finally, the words falling flat. "Not after everything."
But even as he spoke, his voice betrayed him. The venom wasn't there.
He stepped closer to the bed, his tone quieter now, almost hesitant.
"Nothing is ruined… and if you want, you can come stay with me. My parents would love it. And I…" He paused, looking directly into Zhao Chen's dark eyes. "…I am your—"
The words caught in his throat.
"I'll do anything for you," he said instead. "I'll stay by your side. Just… don't disappear on me."
His voice cracked at the end, a tremor betraying everything he fought to keep buried. His face remained expressionless, composed like always—but his eyes… his eyes said everything.
Two hearts bled quietly in that hospital room, stitched together by grief, rage, and something unspoken.
And somewhere else—outside those quiet walls—dramatic wailing echoed like a broken opera…
Xiao Yu was bawling like a child, tears streaming down his cheeks as he shoved another spoonful of ice cream into his mouth.
"Huhuhuhu… the movie is so sad!" he wailed. "I can't believe they didn't end up together! After everything the MC did for him! The ML is so blind! The MC didn't ask to be born into that messed-up family! The least the ML could've done was set him free!"
He sniffled dramatically and reached for another tub of strawberry swirl.
On the windowsill, Shiroi hovered like a tiny white ghost with a mildly disgusted expression. "Host… you've changed the plot trajectory successfully. But Yu Mian is still at large. Shouldn't you, um… get her sent away? I think it's time to round this world up."
Xiao Yu paused, ice cream spoon still in his mouth. His eyes narrowed.
"Well then… I guess it's time to bring out the big guns," he said, a smirk slowly forming on his lips. "But first—beauty sleep."
He dropped backward onto the bed with a satisfied flop.
"You're a slob," Shiroi muttered, eyeing the bowls, spoons, and tissues littering the floor. "Even pigs are neater than you."
Then with a dramatic puff of sparkles, he disappeared.
Xiao Yu rolled over, burying his face in the pillow.
"I miss living with Chenchen…" he mumbled sleepily.
And then silence—only the soft hum of the room and the faint stickiness of half-melted ice cream on his nightstand.
The auditorium buzzed with excitement, filled wall to wall with students dressed in their best. Even the teachers looked vaguely interested for once, seated in a neat row up front. The end-of-session assembly was always a grand affair, but this year's tension was thicker than ever.
On stage, Yu Mian stood in a sleek white dress, delicate lace lining her sleeves, a soft smile playing on her lips. She looked like a princess—as always. The screen behind her blinked to life.
"Today, I'm happy to reveal the theme for our upcoming End of Session Dance," she began, voice sugary sweet. "We wanted something magical, something unforgettable. So this year's theme is…"
The lights dimmed. A soft chime played as the screen shifted.
"Ever After: A Fairytale Party."
Cheers erupted. The students clapped and a few girls squealed. Yu Mian stepped aside gracefully to let the promotional video play. Dreamy music swelled as the visuals began—rose petals, golden ballrooms, sparkling masks.
But then—static.
The video glitched. The petals froze midair.
Another clip began.
It was grainy, taken on a phone, but clearly visible. Yu Mian's face appeared on screen, in a bathroom mirror. She was laughing. Loudly.
"I swear, if I have to hear one more sob story from Chika about her parents, I might throw myself into traffic," she said, wiping her lip gloss off with the back of her hand.
The audience gasped.
"Amira's outfit was so last season. No one told her she's not the main character anymore?"
Laughter—from Yu Mian, not the crowd.
"Oh, and if Su Yan asks me to help her with her makeup again, I might just 'accidentally' poke her in the eye with the brush."
The crowd went silent.
Yu Mian stood frozen, mouth slightly agape, face pale as the video continued. One by one, she mocked the very girls who'd helped campaign for her, voted for her, called her their best friend.
Onscreen, her voice dripped with malice, sugarcoated in smiles. "Honestly, I don't even need them. Everyone loves me. I could slap a teacher and still be voted Most Elegant. They're just background characters. Extras."
Then the screen went black.
A single message appeared, scrawled in white cursive on a blood-red background:
"Yu Mian is not a saint. And yet you fools revere her like she is."
For a moment, no one moved. Then the murmurs began, growing louder.
"That was real—right?"
"Wait, did she say Su Yan? I thought they were best friends…"
Yu Mian took a shaky step forward, eyes wide. "T-That wasn't me," she whispered into the mic. "Someone faked that—edited—it's AI or something—"
But no one was listening.
Chika stood up, face white with betrayal. "So that's what you think of us?"
Amira followed. "You made me cry over a dress, and all this time…"
Yu Mian looked around, searching for sympathy. None came.
From the far back of the auditorium, hidden behind a row of taller boys, Xiao Yu leaned forward in his seat, grinning like a cat who got the cream.
"Now that's how you throw a party," he whispered to himself.
Beside him, Shiroi let out a tiny evil giggle. "Host, you are terrifying."
Xiao Yu flipped his hair smugly. "I prefer iconic."
And on that stage, with her crown slipping, Yu Mian finally looked… small.
The assembly ended not with applause, but with whispers like a tide swallowing the room whole. Students streamed out in messy waves, heads pressed together in clusters, muttering everything from "Did you see her face?" to "I always knew something was off about her."
Some had their phones out, already posting screenshots and shaky footage from the video. #NotSoSaintlyYu was trending on the local school forum before the doors even closed behind them.
"Y'all saw the crown slip, right?" a student whispered.
"Slip? Babe, it shattered."
In the corner of the auditorium, the girls Yu Mian had mocked sat stiffly, a protective circle around Amira and Chika, who both looked like they'd been hit by a truck full of betrayal.
"She made me carry her books every morning," Su Yan muttered, voice trembling. "And I thought we were friends."
"She used my sob story for her essay competition," Chika choked. "I told her that in confidence."
From the teacher's row, murmurs began to stir among the faculty.
"Should we investigate the video's source?" the Literature teacher whispered.
The principal stood with a grave look. "We have to. But regardless of who uploaded it, the content speaks for itself. This isn't just gossip. It's bullying."
Behind the curtains, Yu Mian sat slumped in a chair, makeup streaked, her phone clutched tightly in one trembling hand. Every call she made went unanswered. Her followers were dropping. Even her fan club group chat was silent.
chat was silent.