Chapter 2: Reincarnation of Nth Round
The rooftop was silent, save for the faint howl of the wind.
Jiang Yuxin lay beneath Chen Dongyang, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her eyes wide with disbelief.
Her carefully maintained composure had shattered, replaced by a storm of emotions she couldn’t fully process.
She shoved him off with more force than necessary, scrambling to her feet.
Her school uniform was wrinkled, a smudge of dust streaking her sleeve.
“You idiot,” she hissed, her voice trembling with barely contained fury. “What the hll do you think you’re doing?”
Chen Dongyang sat up, wincing as he clutched his shoulder.
His face was pale, sweat dripping down his temple, but his eyes held a strange, almost manic relief.
“I… I saved you,” he panted, his voice hoarse. “You didn’t jump.”
Jiang Yuxin’s hands clenched into fists, her nails digging into her palms.
‘Saved me?’ The words echoed in her mind, absurd and infuriating.
She took a step forward, looming over him, her gaze sharp enough to pierce.
“Do I look like someone who needs saving?” Her tone was venomous, each word dripping with disdain.
Chen Dongyang blinked, confusion flickering across his face.
He opened his mouth, then closed it, as if unsure how to respond.
“I saw you… at the edge,” he said finally, his voice quieter now. “You looked like you were going to—”
“Jump?” She cut him off, her laugh cold and biting. “You’re dumber than I thought.”
She turned away, her long hair whipping in the wind, trying to regain control.
Her mind was racing, replaying the moment her power failed.
Again.
This boy—this Chen Dongyang—was a void, a black hole her ability couldn’t touch.
And now he’d humiliated her, tackling her like some reckless fool.
Yet, beneath her anger, a spark of curiosity burned.
Why was he so desperate? What drove him to act like this?
Back in the classroom, Jiang Yuxin sat at her desk, her expression unreadable.
The whispers around her were louder now, fueled by the rumor mill.
[Did you hear? Some guy tackled Jiang Yuxin on the rooftop!]
[What? Who’d dare touch her?]
[Bet she’s furious. Poor guy’s probably done for.]
She ignored the noise, her pen tapping rhythmically against her notebook.
Her thoughts weren’t on the gossip but on Chen Dongyang.
He’d returned to class late, slipping into his seat at the back with a limp.
His shoulder was clearly injured, and his face was still pale, but he kept his head down, avoiding her gaze.
‘He’s hiding something,’ she thought, her eyes narrowing.
She tried again to probe his mind, focusing until her temples throbbed.
Nothing.
It was like trying to grasp smoke.
Frustration coiled in her chest, but so did a strange thrill.
For the first time, someone was unpredictable.
At the end of the day, Jiang Yuxin lingered in the hallway, watching as Chen Dongyang packed his bag slowly.
He moved like someone carrying a heavy weight, his shoulders slumped.
She approached, her steps deliberate, stopping just close enough to make him notice.
“Chen Dongyang,” she said, her voice low but commanding.
He flinched, looking up with wary eyes.
“Uh… yeah?”
“Why did you do it?” Her question was direct, her gaze unrelenting.
He hesitated, his fingers tightening around his bag’s strap.
“I told you. I thought you were in trouble.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line. ‘Liar.’
“You don’t even know me,” she said, stepping closer. “Why risk yourself for a stranger?”
His eyes flickered with something—guilt? Fear? She couldn’t tell.
“It’s… complicated,” he mumbled, looking away. “I just had to.”
Jiang Yuxin’s patience snapped.
She grabbed his wrist, her grip firm but not painful.
“Don’t play games with me,” she warned, her voice low and dangerous. “I will find out what you’re hiding.”
Chen Dongyang’s eyes widened, but he didn’t pull away.
For a moment, they stood frozen, her staring into his unreadable gaze.
Then he gently freed his wrist, his expression softening.
“I’m not your enemy, Jiang Yuxin,” he said quietly. “I just… I couldn’t let you die.”
Her breath caught, the word “die” hitting like a punch.
She stepped back, her mask of control slipping for a split second.
“Stay out of my way,” she said, turning sharply and walking off.
But as she left, her heart pounded, not with anger, but with something new.
Uncertainty.
That night, Jiang Yuxin sat at her desk, the room lit only by a small lamp.
Her notebook was open, but instead of studying, she was sketching absentmindedly—a rough outline of a boy with messy hair.
She stopped, staring at the drawing, then tore the page out and crumpled it.
‘He’s nobody,’ she told herself, tossing the paper into the trash.
But her mind wouldn’t let it go.
Chen Dongyang wasn’t like the others.
He wasn’t a puppet she could control or a predictable piece in her boring world.
He was… different.
And that difference was starting to feel like a challenge.
She leaned back, staring out her window at the lights of South River City.
For the first time in years, she didn’t feel bored.
She felt alive.