Chapter 3 Identity Reversal
Jiang Yuxin’s gaze bore into Chen Dongyang, sharp and unrelenting, like a blade poised to slice through his defenses.
Her words hung in the air, heavy with accusation.
Chen Dongyang’s mouth opened, then closed, his mind scrambling for a response that wouldn’t dig him deeper into this mess.
“I wasn’t watching you,” he said, his voice unsteady but firm. “I swear, I just… I had a bad feeling. That’s all.”
‘A bad feeling?’ Jiang Yuxin’s lips twitched, the faintest hint of a smirk.
She didn’t believe him.
Not for a second.
But what unsettled her more was that she couldn’t know if he was lying.
His mind was still a blank wall, impervious to her probing.
She straightened, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear with deliberate grace.
“Stay away from me, Chen Dongyang,” she said, her voice cold but laced with something else—curiosity, perhaps. “Next time, I won’t be so forgiving.”
She turned, her schoolbag swinging lightly over her shoulder, and walked toward the broken rooftop door.
Each step was measured, but her mind was anything but calm.
‘Who is he? Why is he immune? And why… does he seem so sure I was going to jump?’
Back in Class 204, the atmosphere was thick with whispers.
The story of Chen Dongyang’s reckless charge to the rooftop had spread like wildfire.
[Heard he broke the door down! Like, actually smashed it!]
[What’s his deal? Is he obsessed with Jiang Yuxin or something?]
[Bet she’ll ruin him. Nobody messes with her.]
Jiang Yuxin slid into her seat, her face a mask of indifference.
She could hear every thought, every petty judgment, but none of it mattered.
Her focus was on the boy in the back row, hunched over his desk, pretending to read.
Chen Dongyang.
He was avoiding her gaze, his fingers gripping his pen too tightly.
She tilted her head, studying him.
His ordinary appearance was almost laughably plain compared to the chaos he’d caused in her world.
Yet there was something… off.
His eyes, when they flickered up briefly, held a weight that didn’t match his unassuming demeanor.
‘He’s hiding something big,’ she thought, her fingers tapping lightly on her desk.
She tried again, pushing her ability toward him, searching for even a crack in his mental defenses.
Nothing.
It was infuriating—and exhilarating.
Lunch break came, and Jiang Yuxin stayed in the classroom, her untouched bento box sitting on her desk.
She wasn’t hungry; she rarely was.
Food was just another prop in the performance of normalcy.
Her eyes drifted to Chen Dongyang, who was leaving with a group of boys, his laugh forced and hollow.
She stood, her decision made in an instant.
She followed him.
Not too close, not too obvious.
Her ability swept through the minds of those around her, ensuring no one noticed her trailing him.
[God, I’m starving. Hope the cafeteria has noodles today.]
[Why’s she always so perfect? It’s not fair…]
Chen Dongyang’s mind, though, remained silent.
He stopped at the cafeteria line, chatting with a friend, but his eyes kept darting around, as if expecting something—or someone.
Jiang Yuxin leaned against a wall, her arms crossed, watching him.
‘You know something,’ she thought. ‘And I’m going to find out what.’
After school, she followed him again, this time to a quiet street near South River City’s park.
He walked with purpose, his slouch gone, his steps quick.
She kept her distance, blending into the crowd, her ability keeping curious minds at bay.
He stopped at a small bookstore, slipping inside.
Jiang Yuxin hesitated, then followed, the bell above the door jingling softly.
The shop was cramped, shelves overflowing with old books and manga.
Chen Dongyang was in the back, flipping through a worn sci-fi novel.
She approached, her presence silent but commanding.
“Reading about time travel now?” she asked, her voice low, almost teasing.
He jumped, the book nearly slipping from his hands.
“J-Jiang Yuxin?” His voice cracked, his face paling. “What are you doing here?”
She stepped closer, her eyes locked on his.
“I could ask you the same thing,” she said. “You’re not as ordinary as you pretend to be, are you?”
His jaw tightened, and for a moment, she saw something flicker in his eyes—fear, or maybe guilt.
“I’m just a guy,” he said, his voice too even, too practiced. “You’re the one who stands out.”
She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
“Don’t lie to me, Chen Dongyang. I don’t like being played.”
He swallowed, setting the book down.
“I’m not lying,” he said, meeting her gaze. “But… maybe I’m not telling you everything.”
Her pulse quickened, the thrill of the unknown surging through her.
“Then start talking,” she said, her voice soft but edged with steel.
He hesitated, his eyes searching hers, as if weighing whether to trust her.
“Not here,” he said finally. “Not now.”
She raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.
“Then when?”
He took a deep breath, his shoulders squaring.
“Tomorrow. After school. The park by the river.”
Jiang Yuxin studied him, her mind racing.
Was this a trap? A deflection?
Or was he finally going to give her answers?
“Fine,” she said, turning away. “Don’t make me regret this.”
That night, Jiang Yuxin sat in her room, the city’s lights casting shadows across her walls.
Her notebook was open, but her pen was still.
She couldn’t stop thinking about Chen Dongyang.
His immunity to her power.
His desperate tackle.
His cryptic words.
For the first time, she felt like a player in a game she didn’t fully control.
And it was maddening.
But it was also… alive.
She closed her eyes, a rare smile tugging at her lips.
“Tomorrow, Chen Dongyang,” she whispered. “You’d better have something worth hearing.”