An Urgent Meeting at the Library

The meal never truly lightened the mood; even the fragrant grilled fish couldn’t dispel the gloom in their hearts.

Returning to the dorm, the moment the door clicked shut, suppressed emotions surged through Zhou Yi like a tide.

After a moment of contemplation, he no longer hesitated, resolving to re-enter the simulator.

This time, his motivation wasn’t the system’s prize money, but rather the young boy struggling to survive under the shadow of domestic violence.

The familiar white light flared once more.

The instant he entered the simulator, Zhou Yi quickly composed a message:

[Meet me at the library. Urgent matter to discuss.] The message was sent simultaneously to Jiang Chen and Li Yanze.

****

Jiang Chen leaned back on his dorm bed, the image of Zhou Yi in the teaching building flashing repeatedly before his eyes—her head tilted back, holding back tears, then turning away with a resolute back.

The girl who was usually more stubborn than anyone, never admitting defeat, seemed so incredibly vulnerable in that moment.

He closed his eyes in frustration, an indescribable, stifling ache lodged stubbornly in his chest.

He had to admit, his heart had long since been involuntarily swayed by her every frown and smile.

Suddenly, his phone screen lit up, its vibrating hum interrupting his thoughts.

He picked it up and saw it was from Zhou Yi.

“Meet at the library?”

Four simple words, yet they seemed to trigger a switch within him.

Jiang Chen froze for two seconds, an irrepressible surge of joy flooding his heart, his lips curving upward uncontrollably.

He practically sprang from the bed, grabbing his jacket and rushing out.

His zipper wasn’t even fastened before he dashed out the door.

‘Calm down, it’s just the library. Don’t get ahead of yourself…’

Yet his ears betrayed him, flushing crimson. His footsteps echoed down the empty corridor, accelerating towards the library until he was practically running.

****

Meanwhile, Li Yanze was curled up in the most secluded corner of the library, bruises still marring his temples and cheekbones.

He stared blankly at the read-but-unanswered chatbox on his phone.

Last night, Su Xiao had uncharacteristically sent him a message:

[Can you come out for a moment? I’m downstairs by the dorm.]

Li Yanze thought his eyes were playing tricks on him.

He ran downstairs.

Su Xiao stood beneath the streetlamp, her white jacket fluttering in the wind. She was as beautiful as ever, yet… there was a touch of pathetic vulnerability about her.

“Yanze, I’m sorry…” The moonlight reflected in her eyes, their rims slightly red, as if she had been crying for a long time.

She choked out, “I was ignorant before. These past few days, I’ve been thinking repeatedly about how good you were to me, and yet I never knew how to cherish it…”

Li Yanze immediately panicked. “Don’t cry, I never blamed you…”

“Really?” Su Xiao looked up, her eyes brimming with tears as she gazed at him. “Then… can we go back to how we were? I promise I’ll cherish you properly this time.”

Ecstasy surged through him like a tide, but then Li Yanze suddenly remembered something and confessed nervously:

“But I’m still involved in Senior Zhou Yi’s startup project…”

“I know,” Su Xiao gently interrupted him. “I don’t blame you. I’ve always thought you were incredibly talented, and this competition is the perfect opportunity for you to shine.”

Li Yanze felt the gloom of the past few days vanish instantly, his entire heart filled with this “understanding.”

“However… our team has hit a bottleneck recently, and progress has been particularly difficult.”

Su Xiao naturally drew closer, her hair lightly brushing his arm. “I hear your project is very creative? I wonder if… you could give me some inspiration?”

And then, there was nothing more.

He picked up his phone with a bitter smile, unable to give up, and glanced at it again. The dozens of messages he’d sent to Su Xiao were still met with silence, proving he had indeed been foolishly used.

He detested his own stupidity and incompetence to the extreme. He hated himself, hated that he was always the pathetic wretch who was casually used and then tossed aside!

He raised a hand and fiercely tugged at his hair.

An intense wave of self-loathing choked him.

Just then, his screen suddenly lit up, and he immediately looked up.

He thought it was finally Su Xiao replying. The anger and questions he’d bottled up threatened to overwhelm him, but he froze when he saw the sender’s name.

It was Senior Zhou Yi!

His breath hitched.

His nose stung with a tingling ache.

Hot tears welled up without warning.

He blinked desperately to stop them, but they only flowed more freely.

The person he had betrayed was actually still willing to contact him.

He vigorously wiped his face, then abruptly stood and ran towards the agreed meeting spot.

‘Senior…’ he murmured softly, ‘This time, I will never disappoint you again.’

****

Plane tree leaves at the library entrance were swept up by the autumn wind, spiraling across the stone steps.

Zhou Yi leaned against the shadow by the door, the cool light of her phone screen illuminating half of her profile.

She glanced at the time. Only two minutes had passed since she sent the message; she probably had to wait another ten minutes for everyone to arrive.

Just as she put away her phone, she heard hurried footsteps approaching from inside the library.

“Senior…”

Li Yanze arrived, panting heavily. He stopped two steps away from her, lifting his head, the light clearly revealing the crisscrossing bruises on his face.

“Senior, you… you’re really still willing to see me…” His voice caught in his throat.

Zhou Yi was somewhat surprised, not expecting him to arrive so quickly.

‘Could he have been waiting at the library all this time?’

Her gaze lingered on the bruises on Li Yanze’s face for a moment, and she suddenly understood.

“Jiang Chen did this?”

Li Yanze instinctively touched his swollen cheekbone, lowering his head with a bitter smile. “It’s nothing, Senior. I deserved it… I…”

His lips trembled; he seemed to have many words to say, but in the end, they dissolved into a broken sob: “I’m sorry, Senior, I…”

“It’s alright, it’s all in the past,” Zhou Yi gently interrupted his unfinished confession.

Li Yanze nodded vigorously, swallowing back more sobs. “Okay.”

A brief silence fell between them.

Li Yanze said nothing more, simply taking a silent step back, receding into the shadow behind her.

He didn’t know how to atone, so he could only wait in the most awkward way.

Just then, a flurry of hurried footsteps approached from the distance.

Jiang Chen appeared jogging into view, his fringe slightly disheveled by the wind.

The moment he saw Zhou Yi, his eyes visibly brightened, the almost overflowing joy clearly evident.

Until his gaze swept past Zhou Yi, catching sight of the figure hidden in the shadows behind her.

The light in his eyes instantly froze, and his expression darkened.

“Why is he here?”

Li Yanze, struck by that gaze, felt as though he’d been dealt a heavy blow, his shoulders slumping half an inch instantly.

Before Zhou Yi could respond, he had already stepped forward quickly, instinctively shielding her behind him, creating distance between her and Li Yanze.

Seeing this, Zhou Yi quickly reached out and gently tugged Jiang Chen’s sleeve, whispering, “Don’t be like that… please, let me finish first, okay?”

She took a step forward, positioning herself between the two men.

“Jiang Chen, I want to continue this project.” She looked at him with burning eyes.