What did she want to ask? Why Liang Yuanjing treated her differently, why he formed a study group with her, why he made Wen Fangfang apologize for her.
“Because you’re different from others.”
Tao Shuran jerked her head up, her eyes shimmering and trembling as she gazed into his bright ones, habitually waiting for him.
But Liang Yuanjing’s next words plunged her into abyss.
His voice was exceptionally calm, a hint of laziness at his eyes and brows, carrying certainty as he said—
“Because you won’t like me.”
In that instant, Tao Shuran felt as if she had fallen into an icy cellar.
Because he was certain she wouldn’t like him, he tolerated her closeness, occasionally waving a hand, bestowing a bit of care. Tao Shuran’s eyelashes trembled uncontrollably, her voice quivering slightly.
“Then are we friends?”
Amid the noisy reciting around them, Liang Yuanjing toyed with the small keychain pendant. He didn’t look at her; his downcast brows held a cold aloofness, making him seem particularly unapproachable.
“No.”
He lifted his head, his gaze mild, as if simply stating a fact to her.
“I don’t make friends with any girls.”
Tao Shuran parted her lips, wanting to say something, but fell silent.
What he said seemed reasonable enough—their relationship was that ambiguous halfway acquaintance.
But today, Tao Shuran realized she had glimpsed another layer of Liang Yuanjing beneath the clouds.
Lonely, closed off, hard to truly approach.
The lights in Zhongshan Mansion across from West Kang Road finally came on after a long time.
When Liang Yuanjing returned home with his bag, he paused. Seeing the familiar license plate, he lowered his eyes impassively and walked in.
Lady Li Wan sat on the living room sofa waiting for him.
Several attendants stood around her, along with a few company executives and lawyers. Liang Yuanjing scoffed. His mother still traveled with such fanfare, not matching the “Wan” in her name at all.
He responded casually, “Mom, why didn’t you tell me you were coming home?”
“Just staying one night. Flying to Japan tomorrow.”
Li Wan put down the documents in her hand and looked at him with calm eyes. “Yuanjing, this afternoon I took the initiative to contact your school’s teacher. He told me some things about your situation.”
The subordinate sitting nearby saw that the situation wasn’t quite right and quickly stood up to take his leave.
“Then, President Li, if there’s nothing else, we’ll head out first. It’s rare for you to come back home.”
“I heard you’ve been very undisciplined at school.”
Not everyone in the room had left yet. Right in front of everyone, Li Wan’s face turned cold, and the disgust in her tone was unmistakable.
“Don’t end up promiscuous like your father, a wastrel and a rogue.”
Liang Yuanjing paused mid-step, his whole body stiffening slightly. His eyelashes lowered, hiding all his emotions, before he slowly turned his head back and stared at Li Wan with an indifferent smile.
“Mom, did you come back just to pick on me?”
Li Wan sneered. “I’m just reminding you not to turn out like your dad. I heard from your Teacher Zhou that quite a few girls at school got into fights over you.”
The room was very quiet. The dim light was the only touch of warmth in this house.
Liang Yuanjing stood in front of Li Wan. He didn’t sit down; instead, he looked down at her from above, a naturally confrontational posture.
At that moment, a girl’s words suddenly surged into his mind. For the first time in his life, he couldn’t help but argue back.
“Is it my fault that others like me?”
“Isn’t it your fault? Stirring up trouble everywhere, flirting with every girl you see.” Li Wan stood up. “You have the same roguish, carefree face as your dad. You’re doomed never to find true love in this lifetime.”
“Is that so?”
“Then why did you give birth to me?” Liang Yuanjing’s eyes reddened as he said, almost resolutely, “I carry both your blood. I’m doomed to be like this for life.”
“Pa”—
Li Wan raised her hand without hesitation. A crisp slap rang out, and Liang Yuanjing’s face turned to the side from the impact.
He hooked the corner of his lips in self-mockery, too lazy to say another word. He tossed his backpack aside and walked out.
It rained in Fuqing City. It started as a drizzle, then gradually picked up.
Liang Yuanjing stood at the door, tilting his head up to watch the rain. He vaguely recalled another tear-streaked face.
This rain was like Tao Shuran’s tears—wet, soft, and bitter, carrying the piercing chill of winter.
She seemed to always be crying, and every time she did, it somehow had something to do with him?
Was it really as Li Wan said—that his existence only brought others heartbroken tears and endless pain?
The rain didn’t let up. Pedestrians on the street hurried along, occasionally casting strange glances at him.
Liang Yuanjing didn’t care. He walked aimlessly.
Eventually, he wandered to West Kang Road. He liked to stroll around here when he had nothing to do. It wasn’t a purely residential area; there were many small shops along the street, a mix of all sorts, one of the few old city districts that hadn’t been demolished.
Li Wan called this area the “slum,” but Liang Yuanjing felt it had far more human warmth than Zhongshan Mansion.
Many times after evening self-study, he would walk to this street alone, look up at the lights coming on in the three-story buildings—the sounds of family laughter and even arguments—filling him with a trace of warmth.
Liang Yuanjing stood under the building for a long time, gazing upward.
His tall figure was soaked through with loneliness and pain. When Tao Shuran came downstairs with an umbrella to throw out the trash, she happened to catch sight of this scene.
Her steps halted as she stood there, hesitating.
In the end, emotion overcame reason. She couldn’t suppress the instinct to approach him and slowly walked over to his side.
“Liang Yuanjing, it’s raining.”
She reached out, wanting to hand him the umbrella and lean closer.
But Liang Yuanjing stepped back two paces, turning his body slightly away. His resistance was obvious.
He paused, then turned his head and said, “Tao Shuran, stay away.
“I’m not in a good mood right now.”
Tao Shuran wasn’t blind. She could naturally tell that today’s Liang Yuanjing was off—nothing like the proud, wild, always spirited version she saw at school.
He looked so sad, enveloped by the drenching rain. In this desolate late night, why was he standing alone in the shadows?
Tao Shuran didn’t leave. She closed the umbrella and stood there with him, getting soaked together. Her voice was very soft.
“Then, can I comfort you? As a friend.”
Liang Yuanjing shoved his hands in his pockets and squinted at her, his tone languid and tinged with defeat.
“I’m not a good person. Are you sure you want to get involved with me?”
In the hazy rainy night, Tao Shuran’s eyes shone brightly and unusually clear. She stared at him intently and said with remarkable determination, “There’s no such thing as absolute good or bad in this world.”
“I want to be friends with you, like you and Fu Changpei.”
Liang Yuanjing didn’t say yes or no.
Later, as the rain grew heavier, they went together to a milk tea shop at the street corner. It was rare for the shop to still be open so late; they even had some snacks available.
Liang Yuanjing glanced at the menu and pushed it over.
Tao Shuran was texting Tao Hongfeng. She said she’d run into a classmate downstairs and would be home a bit later.
She shook her head at the menu.
“I’m full from dinner. What about you? Have you eaten?”
“These dumplings are pretty good. My dad says they’re handmade. What filling do you like?”
Liang Yuanjing tapped his index finger. He had no appetite and ordered a glass of ice water. But when he met Tao Shuran’s hesitant gaze, he paused and changed it to warm water.
He added casually, “Want me to get you a milk tea?”
The warm milk tea in her palm masked the slight sweat from her nervousness. The little shop’s heater was on full blast. She quietly unzipped her down jacket and looked up at Liang Yuanjing.
He wasn’t dressed warmly—even in winter, he only wore a single tactical jacket, which he’d now taken off and placed nearby, revealing a dark black turtleneck sweater. Broad shoulders, narrow waist—the proportions were perfect.
Liang Yuanjing looked out the window and asked her, “Why were you crying this afternoon?”
It was an unexpected question.
Tao Shuran’s heart skipped a beat. She swallowed and frantically searched for an excuse.
“Maybe because the pressure’s too much.”
Meeting his gaze, she said softly, “I’m always worried I won’t make it into Qing University. The Gaokao is just days away, and I’m still short of the score line.”
Liang Yuanjing asked, “Does it have to be Qing University?”
Tao Shuran paused.
Staring into his eyes, it was as if parting the clouds to reveal clarity. She looked at him and said with unwavering determination, “It has to be Qing University.”
Perhaps it was her resolute and stubborn posture that moved him. Tao Shuran saw Liang Yuanjing’s lips curve slightly.
His smile was beautiful, with a faint pear dimple on his right cheek, a subtle indentation that made him look exceptionally gentle.
Maybe this was a secret no one else had discovered.
Tao Shuran felt immersed in sweetness. Propping her chin, she quietly listened to the rain with him.
She began to understand the true essence of a secret crush—that it asked for no reciprocation, just quietly staying by his side and liking him.
And the condition for remaining by Liang Yuanjing’s side was harsh: she had to play the role of someone who “wouldn’t fall for him” to truly stand beside him.
“I hate it when so many people like me.”
Liang Yuanjing took a sip of water, his voice emotionless.
“Tao Shuran, you’re a good person.”
“Whoever you like is very lucky.”
So, was that why Liang Yuanjing was so certain she wouldn’t like him?
Tao Shuran’s throat felt dry. She realized this was a multiple-choice question that required sacrifice—to get close to him, she had to give up expressing her feelings.
A bit of sadness welled up in her heart, but she forced a smile.
“He might not like me back.”
Not might—he definitely wouldn’t.
Tao Shuran looked at Liang Yuanjing, her eyes brimming with sorrow. She lowered her gaze, suppressing her emotions. Even the air they shared seemed tinged with the cold rain, stinging her lungs with every breath.
“Qing University.”
Liang Yuanjing raised his cup and clinked it against her milk tea. His fingertips accidentally brushed hers on the cup. He raised a brow, regaining his usual arrogance and spirit.
“I’ll help you.”