“Tianchen… what do you mean by this? You’re just joking, aren’t you?” Bingying was the first to recover from the shock, her voice trembling with disbelief.
“Understood,” Ye Siya said softly. She retrieved the student council’s official seal and pressed it onto my application form, an act that confirmed my official resignation from the student council.
“President! What are you doing?! Why would you approve something that’s so clearly a joke?!” An unimaginable fury erupted from her; I had never witnessed Bingying so enraged as she directed her anger at the President—no, at Ye Siya.
I no longer had the right to call her President.
“I’m sorry, Bingying,” Ye Siya said, her expression apologetic. “I actually received Luo Tianchen’s application to withdraw from the student council several days ago. I simply hadn’t found the time to inform everyone.
“In fact, the previous banquet was held with the intention of bidding him farewell…”
“Huh?” Bingying froze. “So, if that’s the case, then that means…”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s likely I won’t be able to party with you all anymore.”
With that, I returned to my seat and began gathering my belongings.
“Don’t you dare leave before you’ve explained yourself!” she cried. She lunged forward, swatting my backpack from my grasp. ‘Please, spare me if you can,’ I thought. ‘Even though I’m a guy, I’ve barely exercised, and there’s no way I could ever beat Bingying, a black belt in karate.’
“Everyone, why isn’t anyone saying anything?!” she demanded.
No one responded to her.
Yang Mingzhi gazed with an air of having seen through everything. Ye Dieyu remained as expressionless as ever, while Ye Siya kept her head bowed, her face obscured. Bingying, receiving no support she had expected, joined the silent ranks, standing motionless.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered quickly as I picked up my backpack. Brushing past her, I walked out of the student council room and closed the door behind me. It felt as if the world had instantly split in two: one half inside the door, the other outside.
I leaned against the door, silent for a long time.
“Why?! Why are you leaving the student council now, of all times?!” she cried, her voice muffled through the door. “We’ve overcome so many challenges together! Were our three years together all a lie? If something’s wrong, why couldn’t you tell me? Aren’t we… friends?” Her voice grew softer and softer until it was barely a whisper, like the buzzing of a mosquito.
‘I’m sorry,’ I thought. ‘Whether you curse me or hate me, it’s truly all my fault.’
‘Just forget about this selfish person.’
I walked back to the classroom, where only three or four students were quietly absorbed in their books, seemingly oblivious to my arrival. Dropping my backpack, I slumped backward onto the desk behind me, staring blankly at the ceiling.
‘How could it possibly be fake?’ I mused. ‘Even I couldn’t forget all those days we spent together.’
But if things continue like this, I won’t be able to live a normal life. The title of a student council member, especially Vice President, carried far more weight than most people imagined. While not as coveted as the President’s position, the scrutiny it attracted was considerable.
For the sake of the school’s reputation, the board of directors would never allow a Vice President to graduate into mediocrity. Unable to forcibly remove me from my position, they would undoubtedly push me to display my talents, learn a myriad of things, and ultimately package me as the brilliant Vice President Luo Tianchen, destined to become a CEO, marry a beautiful, wealthy woman, and reach the pinnacle of life.
Most people would be ecstatic at such a prospect, but it wasn’t the life I desired. All I wanted was an ordinary existence.
In truth, I had never intended to join the student council. My original plan was simply to live each day ordinarily, attend a decent, unremarkable university, find a common girlfriend willing to spend her life with me, and secure an average job after graduation. Then, I’d rent a place, wait for my parents to eventually nudge me toward marriage, and settle down.
However, that plan was ruined from the very beginning. After Ye Siya inadvertently helped me, and adhering to my principle of ‘repaying kindness,’ I found it incredibly difficult to refuse when she smilingly suggested, “Why don’t you join the student council?”
At the time, I thought, ‘They’ll probably get fed up with me and kick me out soon enough anyway.’ So, I agreed, viewing it as a fun life experience. Who knew I would be dragged into the mire, unable to escape?
There was Yang Mingzhi, the utterly unreliable playboy; Bingying, who was serious but revealed a childlike side in peculiar situations; Ye Dieyu, the stoic loli who quietly went about her work; and Ye Siya, the perfect goddess who was kind to everyone. I, ironically, became the most normal one among them, often acting as the glue that repaired their friendships, which constantly teetered on the brink of collapse for various reasons. Only now, looking back, did I realize how deeply I had become entrenched.
This couldn’t continue. I made up my mind and submitted my resignation from the student council to Ye Siya—an application three years overdue.
She didn’t ask why. She simply asked, “Are you truly decided?”
‘Did I really want to leave the student council?’ For a moment, I felt lost as past memories involuntarily surfaced. But the next instant, I quickly pushed the confusion aside and nodded firmly.
“Then please wait a few days,” she said. “I will announce this news to everyone.”
Only now did I realize that ‘waiting a few days’ was for a farewell party. It was incredibly fortunate, though it felt disrespectful to say, that Yao Xinchang’s death led to the cancellation of the party. Otherwise, I might have wavered in that moment and given up on leaving the student council.
But it had to end here. This decision would be beneficial to me, the school board, and the student council, with no downsides for anyone.
Yet, instead of feeling relieved, my heart was inexplicably heavy. I had expected everyone to bid me farewell calmly, perhaps even thinking, ‘Ah, that ordinary guy finally got out on his own.’
But I never anticipated Bingying’s reaction would be so intense. It was the first time I had witnessed her crying so profusely, like a little girl abandoned by her parents, left alone at home and wailing in fear.
Why was it that seeing her cry made my heart clench so tightly? It was an unbearable pain I couldn’t articulate.
I stretched out my palm towards the sky, wishing to touch that smiling face from my memories, a face that no longer existed in reality. ‘Tell me, Yue,’ I wondered, ‘have I made another mistake?’