Chapter 24: Coconut Water

“…”

Hua Qi’an gripped Chen Zhiyan’s hand, bolting down the path.

Her abrupt dash caught the onlookers off guard—no one grasped what was happening at first.

Only after she’d dragged Chen Zhiyan a good distance did a few start chasing.

“What the hell are you doing?!”

The shout came from a security guard drawn by the commotion.

Perhaps since the crowd had gathered mostly for the spectacle, with the main players fled, they scattered like startled birds.

Wang Chang alone stood frozen, bouquet in arms, face a mask of awkward defeat.

The feigned devotion had cracked; he looked like he’d swallowed a fly.

He spat curses.

“Who the fuck was that… ruining my shot—don’t let me find out!”

He wheeled on the few guys still nearby—the ones who’d egged him on earlier.

“Any of you know that girl with Chen Zhiyan just now?!”

His teeth ground; he seemed ready to shred her.

By then, Hua Qi’an had pulled Chen Zhiyan under the teaching building.

Seeing no pursuit, she released her hand.

The sprint had sapped her; she slumped onto a roadside step, gulping fresh air.

Her chest burned from oxygen debt; Hua Qi’an clutched it, wheezing.

She still needed to dodge runs—her frame too frail.

Chen Zhiyan, meanwhile, stared wistfully at the hand Hua Qi’an had held, as if savoring the lingering touch.

Then, she gazed softly at the seated Hua Qi’an.

“Thanks, Qi’an.”

She’d truly been shocked that Hua Qi’an would whisk her from that mess.

Eyeing Hua Qi’an’s pallor from the dash, Chen Zhiyan pressed her lips.

“…Just as I thought.”

She murmured something.

But Hua Qi’an missed it.

“What?”

Chen Zhiyan smiled, shaking her head.

“Nothing.”

“Just… so glad you stood up for me back there…”

Her gaze drooped, a flicker of melancholy crossing her face.

“I thought you hated me.”

Hua Qi’an’s temple throbbed.

“Why would you think that?”

She knew the answer but couldn’t resist asking…

As expected, Chen Zhiyan hesitated, then answered.

“You always sound so cold when we talk…”

“So if you’d just walked away then, I wouldn’t have been surprised.”

With that, Chen Zhiyan stepped forward, clasping Hua Qi’an’s hand.

The warmth from her palm seeped through; Hua Qi’an stiffened.

She glanced down at the joined hands—the red cord on Chen Zhiyan’s right chafing her wrist.

“Knowing you don’t hate me… I’m thrilled.”

Chen Zhiyan’s eyes brimmed solely with Hua Qi’an’s image, shining like stars—making the latter squirm.

Hua Qi’an nodded silently, gently extricating her hand.

“No reason to hate you.”

“Just a hand extended.”

She averted her eyes, avoiding Chen Zhiyan’s.

“Felt pretty sleazy, that confession setup.”

She wanted distance from Chen Zhiyan at most—hate was too strong.

They weren’t close; what ground for dislike?

It wasn’t just her—toward most strangers unworthy of investment, Hua Qi’an stayed aloof.

So that’s how she came off to them? Hateful?

“Heh…”

Chen Zhiyan chuckled lightly.

“But I don’t mind your cold side, Qi’an…”

She tilted her head at Hua Qi’an, voice feather-soft.

Slowly, she curled her empty hand to her chest, cradling the phantom warmth.

Hua Qi’an looked up at Chen Zhiyan’s gentle features, then recalled the earlier spectacle.

Even thinking it churned her stomach.

“You run into that often?”

Hua Qi’an meant the public confession ambush.

Campus fixture like Chen Zhiyan—surely endless admirers; proposals routine.

Chen Zhiyan shook her head.

“Confessions? Yeah. Spectacle like that? First.”

“I’m barely on campus outside class anyway.”

Absent from grounds meant scarce sightings beyond her control.

No chance for ambushes.

Tonight was bad luck—spotted by Wang Chang’s crew.

“So, Qi’an—you really saved me big time…”

She winked at Hua Qi’an.

Then, spotting the vending machines on the building’s ground floor, “Wait here, Qi’an.”

She dashed inside.

Hua Qi’an watched her back, musing.

If she hadn’t yanked Chen Zhiyan away then, how would she have handled it?

From this vantage, Chen Zhiyan didn’t seem the standoffish type she’d assumed…

Approachable, even.

Had Hua Qi’an not intervened, would pressure have forced a reluctant yes?

But her gut whispered no—Chen Zhiyan wouldn’t buckle…

Hua Qi’an’s eyes dimmed; she sighed.

Enough.

No point fretting hypotheticals.

She’d meant to keep distance from Chen Zhiyan—yet fate had tangled them anyway.

Blaming the instigator—that foil-curled guy…

Hua Qi’an frowned; minutes later, his face had blurred.

Too generic, perhaps.

Name stuck, though.

Wang Chang, right.

Old money vibes.

She’d likely earned an enemy tonight.

But Hua Qi’an didn’t care.

Being resented? Beneath notice.

In the distance, Chen Zhiyan had finished at the machine, jogging back with a bottle.

“Here.”

She handed Hua Qi’an a coconut water.

“My thanks.”

Hua Qi’an took it, surprise flickering.

The chill seeped through; her eyes widened.

How had Chen Zhiyan known…?

Beverages had been luxuries in her past—so she’d eyed others’ drinks often.

Coconut water topped the list.

After Lin Yanqiu once passed her a half-finished one, the taste stuck.

But too indulgent to buy herself—just window-shopped.

Coincidence?

Facing Chen Zhiyan’s sincere smile, Hua Qi’an twisted the cap.

“Thanks.”

Chen Zhiyan watched her drink in silence, eyes fixed—like etching the moment deep.

Hua Qi’an capped the half-empty bottle, feeling steadier, and rose from the step.

“Heading out the side gate to dorm.”

She glanced at Chen Zhiyan.

“They might still be hunting you—call someone for a pickup?”

Chen Zhiyan struck her as sheltered elite—likely a driver on speed dial.

But she shook her head.

“No need—I’ll hole up somewhere till they scatter.”

Once the coast cleared, she’d go.

With that, Hua Qi’an nodded, turning to leave—no more words.

“Wait.”

Chen Zhiyan stopped her.

Hua Qi’an glanced back, puzzled.

She seemed bashful, hesitating before voicing the question she’d held since:

“You said you gave me a love letter and flowers?”

“Was that real?”

Hua Qi’an blinked, the query baffling.

“Could it be fake?”

“Elective classroom.”

Chen Zhiyan’s memory as foggy as hers?

With that, seeing no further queries, Hua Qi’an headed for the side gate.

This time, Chen Zhiyan didn’t call her back.

Watching her recede, Chen Zhiyan checked the elective room on her phone, striding toward the building.

The earlier dash hadn’t raced her pulse like now.

The soft mask she wore slipped, revealing obsessive gleam.

“Qi’an… Qi’an… Qi’an…”

“You like me too? Of course—you love me.”

Hua Qi’an’s every microexpression replayed in her mind; her wrist still held the faint scent of her body wash.

Chen Zhiyan pressed her palms to her cheeks, cooling the flush.

So it wasn’t one-sided?

Hua Qi’an liked her too?

That’s why the letter?

Recalling Hua Qi’an’s icy demeanor, Chen Zhiyan’s breath hitched.

Unnoticed, she’d reached the elective room.

“Bam!”

The door flew open too hard, the bang echoing down the hall, triggering a swath of motion lights.

Chen Zhiyan flipped the room switch; empty.

She spotted her daytime seat: pink envelope and bouquet atop it.

Lips splitting in a grin, she approached and snatched the letter.

The cheap perfume had faded with time but lingered faintly.

Sniffing it close, Chen Zhiyan’s smile faltered, brow creasing.

She tore it open on the spot.

Unfolding the paper.

[To My Dearest Goddess]

Not Hua Qi’an’s handwriting.

The spark in her chest snuffed like doused flame.

But this was from Qi’an—even if not her words, she’d read it.

Line by line, the apathy morphed to disgust, then loathing.

“Disgusting…”

Vapid clichés, all.

How dare such trash touch Qi’an’s hands?

“Zhao Yingying…”

Chen Zhiyan’s eyes flashed revulsion.

Qi’an’s roommate?

Why could this nobody share a roof with Qi’an daily?

The mere thought drove her mad with envy.

The earlier thrill chilled to dead calm.

Chen Zhiyan’s gaze fell to the desk flowers.

Blank-faced, she swept them to the floor and ground her heel in.

“Ugh… why always flowers.”

Wang Chang’s face flashed too—earlier, with his massive bunch.

Chen Zhiyan’s eyes dulled.

Frowning, she scooped the mess, balled it with the letter, and chucked it in the room’s bin.

Few knew—

Chen Zhiyan was allergic to pollen; flowers repulsed her most.