Yan Ming felt deeply wronged.
When Xia Yan rejected his confession, he was indeed bitter and couldn’t help but post a few angry moments on social media, accusing Xia Yan of being vain, greedy, and insatiable. Once he calmed down, he quickly deleted the posts.
However, the social circle was small, and soon someone took screenshots and spread the word, leading everyone to learn about Xia Yan’s so-called “true nature.”
Words have a way of spreading.
Even though many still admired Xia Yan, they had to put on a facade of disdain to save face. In the bar, Yan Ming felt guilty and uncomfortable whenever someone criticized Xia Yan.
So, when he saw Shen Wenqing gifting Xia Yan something expensive backstage at the bar for the second time, even though he couldn’t hold back and said something hurtful at the moment, he kept his mouth shut afterwards, never mentioning it to anyone.
Yan Ming was also a student at S University, though his academic performance was mediocre. He had only gotten into the university through his parents’ connections and was hanging on for the diploma. He rarely attended classes and wasn’t well-informed about campus events.
It wasn’t until the forum scandal blew up that the rumors reached his ears. As for the posts, he only saw a small portion since they were taken down.
Now, wrongly accused and having been overheard by Xia Yan himself, Yan Ming’s mind went blank, and he struggled to explain himself. Meanwhile, the look on Xia Yan’s face grew colder and colder.
Panic set in.
He quickly strode to the back door and roughly pulled the bewildered Tang Zihang over. In a gruff voice, he demanded, “You explain the forum stuff!”
Xia Yan stood leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his sharp jawline tense. His alluring almond-shaped eyes subtly darted between the two. In this shadowy corner, where no sunlight reached, he was like a high and mighty puppet master, manipulating others to his will.
Just one question had thrown the alpha into disarray.
Tang Zihang was caught in a whirl of mixed emotions.
To say he didn’t feel jealous of Xia Yan at all would be a lie. His first-ever relationship had ended in such an absurd way. Even though Xia Yan had done nothing wrong and was also an innocent victim, Tang Zihang still felt a twisted sense of resentment towards him. He had even carelessly blurted out that Xia Yan was greedy and would never truly look at Yan Ming.
Shame and jealousy mingled, leaving Tang Zihang unable to face Xia Yan. He kept his head down and quickly scrolled through his phone until he found a screenshot.
“Look at this message for yourself,” he said, shoving his phone in Yan Ming’s face.
The black text on a white background and the screen’s brightness adjusted just right—an alpha’s enhanced senses made it so Yan Ming could absorb every word with just a glance.
His face flushed red, then turned pale, then red again, leaving him speechless for a long moment.
“You’ve seen the evidence,” Tang Zihang withdrew his phone. “I wasn’t slandering you.”
Yan Ming fumbled with his words, stammering, “I… uh…”
“Hmm?” Xia Yan’s questioning hum came lazily from his lips as he looked at Yan Ming, completely uninterested, as if he were staring at worthless trash.
What admirer of Xia Yan could withstand such a look?
“It wasn’t me!” The alpha suddenly erupted, his words pouring out like a machine gun. “After I returned to the dorm that day, I vented to my roommates, so…”
He couldn’t finish his sentence.
Because, in the end, the one who started it all was still himself.
“I’ll go get him right now to apologize to you.”
Before Xia Yan could refuse, Yan Ming dashed off, vanishing instantly.
Xia Yan: “…”
Tang Zihang: “…”
With one of the involved parties gone, the two “rivals” stood alone together, and the atmosphere grew even more awkward. A peculiar tension filled the air.
Tang Zihang didn’t speak because he didn’t know what to say. He felt so low and despicable, as if looking at Xia Yan made him feel inferior.
He awaited the youth’s reprimands and scorn, knowing he deserved every bit of it. Yet, there was nothing—no insults, no blame. The only response was Xia Yan casually dusting off invisible dirt and then saying indifferently, “Let’s go.”
The autumn breeze caught Xia Yan’s voice, swirling it into the sky before it floated down lightly.
Tears welled up in Tang Zihang’s eyes, his rims red.
“I’m sorry.”
“?”
Xia Yan kept walking ahead, seemingly having not heard him.
Tang Zihang felt a pang of disappointment, but at the same time, a subtle sense of relief. He realized how immature he had been—letting such a minor issue, like a scumbag, break his composure and lead him to lash out at a friend.
His peripheral vision caught the calm and composed youth walking ahead. Clenching his fists, a sense of admiration flickered in his heart.
He should be more like Xia Yan—mature and reliable, unafraid of loss, bold enough to ask questions, brave enough to fight for what he wants, and able to diffuse awkward situations effortlessly.
Meanwhile, Xia Yan was thinking—
[Why is this walk so long? It feels endless. This is so awkward… Should I say something? But I can’t think of a topic…]
System: […]
[Why is Tang Zihang looking at me with such a strange expression?]
System: […]
For Xia Yan, the short distance of just a few dozen meters felt like walking on pins and needles. As soon as they reached the backstage area, he immediately sat down and pretended to play with his phone, avoiding any awkward conversation with Tang Zihang.
Tang Zihang felt slightly disappointed, but then quickly thought—given Xia Yan’s personality, the fact that he didn’t snap back at him meant he was already incredibly tolerant. What more could he ask for?
Tang Zihang gave Xia Yan a deep, emotional look.
Xia Yan: “?”
—
Since Tang Zihang had just gone through a breakup, his bandmates were worried he might make mistakes during the performance. But to their surprise, he was completely focused and played better than ever.
After coming offstage, the drummer patted him hard on the shoulder. “Well done, man.”
Pulling out a cigarette, the bassist gave him a thumbs-up in approval.
Tang Zihang scratched his face and smiled shyly. “Brother Xia taught me well.”
Xia Yan, who had been zoning out: “???”
The other two bandmates were equally confused, knowing full well that Xia Yan couldn’t play guitar. But they didn’t question it, instead riding the wave of Tang Zihang’s flattery.
“Xia Yan’s always been good.”
“Yeah! On the other hand, you are just too thin-skinned,” the bassist clicked his tongue. “You really need to learn from Xia Yan and toughen up.”
Xia Yan lightly kicked the bassist. “Am I thick-skinned?”
“Oh no, my mistake!” The bassist laughed. “Our Brother Xia, with his focus on himself and complete disregard for gossip, is a spirit that Tang Zihang should definitely learn from.”
The bassist, the oldest band member nearing thirty, calling Xia Yan “brother” always added a bit of humor to the scene.
The drummer and Tang Zihang burst out laughing.
After joking more, the bassist pulled out three red invitations from a drawer and handed them out solemnly. “I’m getting married. You guys are my best friends, so make sure you save the date and come.”
The bright red invitations featured two adorable cartoon figures standing cheerfully together.
Xia Yan opened his and was greeted by messy handwriting in pen.
“I wrote them all by hand—sorry for how bad it looks, hahaha.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll definitely be there.” The drummer playfully punched the bassist in the chest. “We’re lifelong buddies, after all.”
The bassist corrected him. “Brothers.”
“See you next weekend, sis. Bye!” The flamboyant drummer, with her bold and vibrant appearance, blew them all a kiss as she left the backstage.
The bassist, rushing off to handle wedding preparations, followed shortly after.
Suddenly, only Xia Yan and Tang Zihang were left in the empty backstage area.
Silently, Tang Zihang began packing up his things, including all the gifts Yan Ming had given him, and stuffed them into his bag to return later. As he finished, he felt like he had finally tossed that shattered admiration into the abyss, ready to be forgotten with time.
Xia Yan didn’t offer any sympathy or consolation. He acted as if nothing significant had happened, treating Tang Zihang’s breakup as no big deal, which made Tang Zihang feel oddly at ease.
“I’m heading out too. See you next weekend.”
“Mm,” Xia Yan nodded, watching his last bandmate leave. Once he was alone in the empty backstage, his expression dropped. He opened the locker and took out a blood-red gift box.
The box had a red velvet ribbon with a delicate bow that was perfectly centered, symmetrical, and cute.
He gently tugged it open.
Inside was a cotton doll labeled with Shen Wenqing’s name, torn to shreds. Loose stuffing, like bloodied flesh, was scattered throughout the box.
Xia Yan’s temple twitched.
Damn! That creepy pervert.
He had noticed the extra gift box in his locker before the show but hadn’t taken it out because he didn’t want to disrupt his bandmates’ emotions and affect the performance.
Taking a deep breath, Xia Yan ignored the destroyed doll and reached for the postcard at the bottom.