Chapter Thirteen: This Heart

Chapter Thirteen: This Heart

"Then I'll go first." Zhao Kewen stood up boldly, holding her glass casually. "Everyone here is younger than me, so I'll reluctantly take on the role of the big sister. Yang Chen is my dear, lovable little brother, and an important person in my life. Seeing his career finally taking off, I sincerely feel happy for him… Enough said, it's all in the drink. I'll set an example, everyone else, feel free."

With that, Zhao Kewen downed a glass of beer in one gulp, a smile lingering at the corner of her lips as she sat back down.

Yang Xiaoyu and Zhang Tongtong both raised their glasses and took small sips, seemingly gathering their thoughts before speaking.

Sitting beside me, however, Zhang Jiaxin kept pace with Zhao Kewen’s momentum. She lifted her glass and finished an entire beer in one go, then refilled it without a pause. Holding the glass aloft, she smiled at the other girls and said, "My name is Zhang Jiaxin. I know I don’t usually mingle much with you all; we only got acquainted through Yang Chen. But I’m truly happy to meet my sisters here, and I hope we can often get together to have fun. The future success of the cold drink shop will surely rely on everyone’s help and support. On behalf of Yang Chen and myself, thank you all for your past contributions."

Her words ended with another full glass drained, while Yang Xiaoyu and Zhang Tongtong exchanged somewhat awkward glances. Zhao Kewen, as casual as ever, also took another sip, then suddenly smiled as if recalling something amusing.

Honestly, hearing Zhang Jiaxin’s speech made me uneasy, especially the last line—“Yang Chen and I thank everyone for their contributions.” She had effectively placed herself in the position of hostess without my consent. Though I was displeased at her presumptuousness, in such a setting, I could not embarrass her.

Yang Xiaoyu and Zhang Tongtong then stood up symbolically, offering a few words and sipping half a glass each. It was worth noting that Zhang Tongtong’s tolerance for alcohol surprisingly surpassed that of Yang Xiaoyu, who had long been working hard in society. After just one beer, Yang Xiaoyu’s speech began to slur—I've never seen a woman with such poor alcohol tolerance before.

With the third round of drinks and the fifth course of food, the atmosphere warmed as the girls chatted and toasted each other. Zhang Jiaxin, however, showed no interest in joining the trio’s discussion about cosmetics and fashion. She sat quietly beside me, sipping occasionally but saying little.

Watching the lively chatter of the others and the slightly lonely Zhang Jiaxin, I felt an inexplicable pang of melancholy. I raised my glass before her and softly asked, "How have you been recently? Graduation is next year—any plans?"

Zhang Jiaxin met my gaze, lightly clinked her glass with mine, took a symbolic sip, then set her cup down, seemingly unwilling to answer.

I chose not to press her further and instead picked up some food, intending to eat first. I had been so busy keeping company with the girls that I hadn’t eaten much, and naturally, as the only man at a table full of women, I was careful to maintain my composure and eat slowly despite my hunger. That’s why, as everyone else was engrossed in conversation, I was still not full.

"Yang Chen…"

Just as I was about to bring a piece of beef to my mouth, Zhang Jiaxin's voice, tinged with grievance, reached me. I had to pause and wait for her to continue.

"Liu Yafeng has been coming to see me a lot lately," she said without looking at me, casually glancing at the dishes on the table.

"Liu Yafeng," I thought hard, vaguely recalling the name but unable to place where I had met him.

"He's the owner of the photography shop in the south of the city. We took some photo booth pictures there together," Zhang Jiaxin reminded me.

"Oh, the little mustached guy who looks rather artistic. What does he want with you?" Her words jogged my memory—he had introduced himself at the time, but I hadn’t given it much thought.

"He said he likes me and wants me to be his girlfriend." Zhang Jiaxin finally looked at me with a serious expression. I found this somewhat puzzling—if he likes you, that’s a good thing, isn’t it? Unless he’s been harassing you.

"Oh, that's good. But I still don't recommend you date right now. You’ll graduate next year, and you don’t even know where you’ll end up working. Maybe wait until later…"

"Yang Chen." Zhang Jiaxin cut me off angrily before I could finish. Her voice was loud enough to immediately hush the lively “fashion trio,” who then looked over at us with puzzled expressions.

Perhaps it was the effect of the alcohol, but I sensed something different about Zhang Jiaxin’s mood today—she seemed to be carrying some burden.

"Is this the answer you give me?" Her eyes reddened instantly, leaving me bewildered and unsure how to respond.

"What answer?" I asked, completely lost.

"Yang Chen… you know… I’m… tired…" Her voice trembled weakly as tears began to fall. "I’m about to break down… Yang Chen… I feel like I’m going crazy."

Seeing Zhang Jiaxin suddenly crying, I was at a loss. I didn’t know how to comfort her or where to start. I remained silent and avoided looking at her tear-filled eyes.

"Yang Chen, I’m about to lose my mind. Sometimes I want to force myself to forget the past and start over, but I can’t…" Suddenly, she threw herself into my arms, sobbing. "Can you please not be so heartless to me? Do you remember? You once sang me your favorite song ‘Runaway,’ and you said I was your last belief."

"Last belief…" I murmured, then forced a bitter smile. I gently pinched her tear-streaked cheek and softly said, "You’ve had too much to drink. Let me take you home in a bit."

"I'm not drunk," Zhang Jiaxin pushed my hand away, sat up, and looked at me seriously before suddenly smiling. "You think I’m dirty, don’t you?"

I was stunned by such self-deprecation and felt an uncontrollable surge of anger.

"What the hell are you talking about?" I grabbed her arm, glaring fiercely. "I’ve never thought that way. I don’t care how you’ve spent the past year—I don’t care. All I know is you betrayed me. I can accept a body that’s been betrayed, but I can never touch a soul that’s betrayed me."

My hands trembled with fury. I grabbed the glass before me and slammed it on the table with a loud crash, shattering it. Crimson blood flowed down the table, dripping onto my pants.

For a moment, time seemed to freeze. Across from me, Yang Xiaoyu and Zhang Tongtong watched silently as I reached the peak of my rage. Zhao Kewen, however, still elegantly sipped her beer, smiling as she observed the farcical scene between Zhang Jiaxin and me.

Zhang Jiaxin quietly lowered her head, her body trembling slightly. She reached out and gently grasped my bleeding hand, placing it over her chest. She whispered, "Yang Chen, can you feel my heartbeat?"

I didn’t understand what she meant, but my fury calmed considerably.

"Wow." Zhao Kewen covered her mouth in surprise, laughing. "How does it feel? Compared to mine?"

But Zhang Jiaxin and I had no time to entertain Zhao Kewen’s playful teasing. I waited silently for her answer. She took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and softly said, "This is… a heart that loves you."

I stared in shock at Zhang Jiaxin, who kept her head bowed in silence. Feeling her heartbeat, my own began to quicken.

A heart that loves me… Has it always been Jiaxin’s heart?

The blood on my hand stained Zhang Jiaxin’s pristine white wool sweater. The dim red mingling with bright white formed striking patterns.

Closing my eyes, I suddenly felt our heartbeats synchronizing—a bewildering, inexplicable sensation.

"Hey… Little Xin, it’s stuffy in here. I want to get some fresh air. Want to come?" Zhao Kewen was idly tapping an empty plate with a chopstick.

Zhang Jiaxin hesitated but eventually agreed.

After Zhao Kewen took Zhang Jiaxin’s hand and left, I couldn’t help but feel something odd. Women’s hearts truly are anchors—those two, who moments ago seemed at odds, were now off whispering secrets together.

"Um… Brother Yang…" Yang Xiaoyu, seeing the two girls leave, quickly approached me with curiosity. "What exactly is your relationship with little Jiaxin?"

"No relationship," I shrugged, not caring about her habit of giving people nicknames. "If anything, we used to be a couple."

"I thought so…" Yang Xiaoyu gave me a thumbs-up. "A hopeless romantic really has charm. From Jiaxin’s expression, it looks like life’s no fun without you."

"You’re too young to understand adult matters," I sighed.

"Adult matters? Adults are just about those things…" Yang Xiaoyu blushed after speaking, then pulled out a tissue from her pocket and helped wipe the blood from my hand.

Hearing her, I suddenly realized that as a modern young man, I was still too innocent… What did she mean by ‘adult matters’?

While Yang Xiaoyu and I chatted casually, Zhang Tongtong suddenly asked, "Brother Yang, why didn’t you bring your girlfriend today?"

I paused, remained silent for a moment, then forced a smile and said, "Brother Yang is single now—no girlfriend to bring."

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