04
Because Ruan Yu liked Xu Huaisong, everything suddenly made sense.
When he wrote in his drafts, "Why did someone as petite as you choose basketball for P.E.?" or when he wondered, "What did you do wrong to end up sitting on the bleachers reflecting?"—if only he had walked behind this piano, he would have found the answer.
But he never did.
So he never knew that every seemingly casual coincidence was actually her carefully orchestrated plan, or that during all those sleepless nights he spent tossing and turning, she was thinking of him too.
Xu Huaishi turned on her phone’s flash and snapped two photos of the wall before suddenly wailing, "Waaah—Zhao Yi, this is so touching—"
Zhao Yi lunged to cover her mouth, but he was too late. The security guard patrolling the hallway downstairs heard the commotion and immediately rushed up, shining a bright flashlight their way.
Glaring, Zhao Yi hissed under his breath, "I think your IQ is pretty touching too!"
Pouting, Xu Huaishi was dragged off to the disciplinary office by the guard, her head hanging low.
The head of discipline, Zhu Feng, assumed they were involved in an early romance. No matter how much they protested, he insisted on contacting their parents.
Zhao Yi was a seasoned troublemaker, so Zhu Feng pointed at him, signaling that he’d deal with him later, then turned to Xu Huaishi. "You first—parent’s contact number!" He picked up the landline receiver.
"Teacher Zhu, I’m sorry—"
"Don’t want to give it? Then I’ll ask your homeroom teacher."
The number registered with the homeroom teacher was Tao Rong’s. Panicking, Xu Huaishi quickly blurted out, "209-***-****!" Then, before Zhu Feng could raise an eyebrow, she added, "That’s the one! My parents are in the U.S.!"
Did she think an international number would save her? Huffing, Zhu Feng dialed with the prefix "001" and spoke in broken English, "Hello, I am—"
A male voice on the other end promptly cut him off. "Hello."
Clearing his throat, Zhu Feng introduced himself and explained Xu Huaishi’s "misbehavior."
Xu Huaishi strained her ears, holding her breath as she tried to make out what was being said on the other end.
Earlier, she had lied to her mom over the phone at the milk tea shop, claiming she was staying out late to have dinner with a friend. There was no way this call could go to her mom—she could only pray her brother would go easy on her.
But the next second, Xu Huaisong’s merciless voice came through. "I’m currently unavailable to handle this. Please call this number instead to contact—"
Realizing he was about to give Tao Rong’s number, she leaped up to snatch the receiver, only to be stopped by Zhu Feng’s glare. Stomping her foot, she yelled into the phone, "Brother, you’re the worst!"
Someone like him deserved to fail at romance! She’d never tell him that Senior Ruan liked him, even if it killed her!
At one in the morning, Ruan Yu lay under the covers with Shen Mingying, clutching her phone in a daze.
More than twenty-four hours had passed since the incident, and rumors were still spreading wildly online. Though she had issued a clarification, malicious speculation from certain parties persisted. Worried that Ruan Yu might struggle emotionally alone in her apartment, Shen Mingying had come to keep her company.
Earlier that evening, they had noticed the other author had "read" their private message. They had expected a quick reply, but even now, the chat remained silent.
Meanwhile, the counter-evidence was still being prepared by industry friends and wasn’t ready yet. They had done all they could—for now, all that was left was to wait.
Exhausted, the two eventually drifted off to sleep. The next morning, the moment Ruan Yu opened her eyes, she fumbled for her phone under the covers. Unlocking it, she was surprised to see a private message from "The Poet."
It had been sent at two in the morning.A Poet: Hello, I sincerely apologize for the trouble caused. The article "Her Eyes Smile" was not my original concept but was written based on an outline my friend purchased from a studio. If it has infringed upon your rights, I am willing to explain publicly, offer a formal apology, delete the article, and retire my pen name. Below is the draft of my statement for your review. I hope to do my best to compensate for your losses. Once again, I apologize.
Ruan Yu snapped out of her daze, patted Shen Mingying, and handed her the phone.
"Was it really a leaked outline?" Shen Mingying asked after reading, rubbing her eyes.
Faced with this situation, both of them immediately thought of a leaked outline. But the problem was, aside from Shen Mingying, Ruan Yu had only shared the outline with a publishing house they had collaborated with for years. Moreover, based solely on that material, it was impossible for so many detailed similarities to exist.
That was why they hadn’t reached a conclusion yet.
Ruan Yu frowned. "Could my computer have been hacked?"
Shen Mingying, now fully awake after rubbing her eyes, gasped and grabbed her shoulders. "The USB drive! That day at the café—did you take it back?"
Ruan Yu’s eyelids twitched. She jumped off the bed and frantically searched for half an hour before kneeling on the mattress, on the verge of tears. "No…"
Her mother had suddenly shown up that day, and she had rushed back to her apartment. She truly couldn’t remember whether she had taken the USB drive. Shen Mingying had left shortly after, only taking her own laptop.
Both of them facepalmed in unison.
A regular outline leak couldn’t have caused this level of similarity—only that USB drive, which contained most of the detailed plot points from Ruan Yu’s personal journal, could have led to this.
A minute later, Shen Mingying looked up. "I’ll go to the café. This time, don’t be a pushover—try negotiating with the other author."
Ruan Yu nodded, understanding her meaning.
Although the other party had offered the most favorable solution under the circumstances, the studio’s unethical act of selling the outline couldn’t just be brushed aside.
She sent a message: Hello, I’d like to ask—which studio did your friend purchase the outline from?
On the other end of the screen, Xu Huaishi, sporting dark circles and messy hair, called Zhao Yi. "What do I do? What should I reply? I told you this dumb idea wouldn’t work…"
"Oh, then just tell her the truth."
"No way!"
If Ruan Yu found out the whole story, her brother would almost certainly learn about her misdeeds too. She said, "My brother is seriously terrifying… He’d disown me for the greater good!"
"Isn’t your brother a lawyer? Would he really break the law and beat you to death?"
"He could cut off my allowance. What’s the difference between that and killing me?!"
"Fine. Just say your friend can’t disclose it due to confidentiality agreements between the buyer and seller. If she doesn’t have any ‘shady connections,’ she won’t be able to trace your identity for now."
"But isn’t that unfair to Senior Ruan…"
"You’ve already publicly apologized, deleted the article, and retired your pen name. For her, that’s the best outcome. If you tried explaining this ridiculous truth to the public, no one would even believe it!"
Xu Huaishi hesitated. "What if my brother still likes Senior Ruan and thinks I did a good deed? What if he rewards me instead of punishing me?"
"Are you kidding? It’s been eight years—you think he’s still hung up on her? You think your brother lives off some idealized memory and doesn’t need a sex life?"
"Oh… right.""Go ahead and say whatever you want, but don’t expect to enjoy good food and chase after celebrities anymore."
Xu Huaishi shivered but ultimately listened to Zhao Yi.
As he had anticipated, she kept her mouth shut, and Ruan Yu couldn’t immediately uncover the truth.
Xu Huaishi wasn’t sure how much Ruan Yu believed, but after a few exchanges, a message popped up in the chatbox: "Please issue a statement first."
Judging by the tone, Ruan Yu might not have given up on investigating but had decided to clarify things first to quickly quell the storm and minimize losses.
Feeling guilty, Xu Huaishi apologized repeatedly and posted the carefully revised statement on Weibo. Minutes later, she saw "Wen Xiang" repost it along with excerpts from their private chat.
But she couldn’t relax.
One moment of cowardice had led to countless lies to cover it up. Now, even though she had done her best to make amends, she felt even more uneasy.
Sighing, she buried herself under the covers like an ostrich.
Ruan Yu didn’t feel any lighter after reposting either. The other author’s evasiveness left her suspicious, so she wanted to check on Shen Mingying’s progress.
But when Shen Mingying returned, she said the café claimed they hadn’t noticed her personal belongings that day. They had even reported to the police to access nearby surveillance footage, but the target was too small to spot any suspicious individuals in the recordings. At best, they could file a report, but with a month gone by, it was unlikely to yield results.
Thus, although her name had been cleared, Ruan Yu still felt a thorn in her heart.
But she soon had no time to dwell on it.
Shortly after the statement was issued, her Weibo was flooded again with what seemed like malicious trolls, accusing her of bribing "The Poet" to obtain a fake apology.
These people spun baseless stories with such conviction that they clashed fiercely with those who had chosen to support her after reading the statement.
Her Weibo comments became a battlefield of vitriol.
Then, on Sunday morning, another writer from the same platform as Ruan Yu posted a lengthy Weibo. Though not naming names, it clearly implied that she had plagiarized and bullied newcomers, forcing a "small, unknown writer" to quit—a disgrace to the original writing community.
Miraculously, this post gained traction instantly, spreading rapidly and even making it to the trending list by evening.
Xu Huaishi had been following all this, and by now, she realized the severity of the situation.
At this point, anyone with sense should have believed Ruan Yu. But when there’s a will to slander, excuses are easy to find. A few were deliberately muddying the waters, steering public opinion.
Looking back, as a new writer with zero reader base and negligible exposure, the whole incident had likely been orchestrated from the start.
She and Zhao Yi had underestimated how complicated the real world could be.
Xu Huaishi grew frightened and carefully drafted another message to Ruan Yu.
But before she could send it, she saw Ruan Yu’s new Weibo update: "Temporarily closing comments and private messages."
Below was a screenshot of a private message sent to "Wen Xiang," with the sender’s ID and avatar blurred. The content was a threatening image—a screen splattered with overturned paint, several glaring red handprints, accompanied by the words: "Plagiarizers should die!"
Even the thumbnail made Xu Huaishi shudder, nearly dropping her phone.Her hands began to tremble, and she couldn’t even hear the piercing evening self-study bell. She rushed into the girls’ restroom in the teaching building, hurriedly locking herself in a stall before dialing Xu Huaisong’s number.
It was already past 3 a.m. in San Francisco, but the situation was urgent—she couldn’t wait.
The call connected, and she immediately stammered, “Brother… I, I messed up!”
Xu Huaisong was indeed still awake. There were chaotic voices in the background, chattering in English. He seemed to be flipping through documents, so his response was somewhat distracted. “What happened? I have an emergency meeting in five minutes. If it’s not important—”
“It is important!” Xu Huaishi insisted firmly, her voice cracking with a hint of tears. “Brother, I hurt Senior Ruan Yu…”
Silence fell on the other end of the line. After a long pause: “Who?”
She sniffled. “Ruan Yu, Senior Ruan Yu. Don’t you remember her?”
This time, the silence stretched even longer.
Just as Xu Huaishi was about to speak again, footsteps echoed outside the restroom. Afraid of being caught using her phone during self-study, she held her breath and stayed quiet.
After what felt like a dozen heartbeats, the background noise in the call disappeared.
Xu Huaisong seemed to have stepped into a quiet space. Then, his voice came through: “Why are you crying? Explain clearly.”
Xu Huaishi couldn’t speak—the girl who had come to use the restroom hadn’t left yet. She remained silent, focusing only on breathing.
Xu Huaisong asked again, “Where are you?”
His tone had taken on an edge of impatience. Unable to reply, Xu Huaishi frantically ended the call and quickly sent him a WeChat message: I’m hiding in the school restroom. Someone came. I’ll text you. First, look at this photo.
She pulled up the photo of the writing on the wall in the music room and added: The night before last, I found this in Room 301 of the school’s art gallery.
On the other end of the screen, Xu Huaisong stood in the bright hallway outside the conference room, dressed in a sharp navy-blue suit. He frowned as he opened the chat.
A white woman in stilettos clicked toward him, calling out, “Hanson,” before handing him a thick stack of loose documents—hundreds of pages—saying it was the material he’d requested.
His gaze remained fixed on his phone as he absentmindedly reached for the files. But the moment he opened the image and saw the English letters clearly, his fingertips suddenly went slack.
Hundreds of papers cascaded to the floor, scattering like snowflakes, leaving a chaotic mess in their wake.
In the narrow, silent hallway, Xu Huaisong heard his own heartbeat—thud after thud—deafening in his ears.
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