Chapter Fifty-One: Heartless

If the awkwardness earlier was just a hint, now it was in full force.

When he exposed her pretending to be drunk, she could have explained it away as having sobered up. But then he went and dismantled her excuse, leaving her no room to maneuver.

Adults often abide by the unspoken rule: see through, but don’t expose. He, however, didn’t respect even the faintest trace of that code.

The car still carried a delicate hint of ebony, so subtle it was nearly imperceptible. After so long without that scent, Ye Mian was almost transported back to last summer. That scorching heat and the eternally aloof boy.

She deliberated, then said, “I wasn’t avoiding you—just happened to be a coincidence.”

Jiang Chen looked at her eyes in the rearview mirror and smiled quietly. “You’re lying.”

Ye Mian felt herself on the verge of exploding—how could he be so shameless as to ask that?

After a few moments of silence, she said truthfully, “If we’re keeping score, you were the one who started avoiding me.”

“Me?” He suppressed his smile, tilting his head slightly. “Did I really avoid you?”

Now that was unreasonable! She had to set the record straight.

Ye Mian, utterly serious, unlocked her phone and opened WeChat. The chat had sunk to the bottom, yet she had it pinned at the top. Those in love always notice the smallest details. She carefully unpinned it, then brought up the chat history.

Since Jiang Chen was driving, she only let him glance at the screen and said, “Look, you really have no conscience. I sent you so many messages, and you didn’t reply. So, if anyone was avoiding someone, it was you who avoided me first.”

Jiang Chen immediately recalled the phone card he’d left behind at the airport before coming to Wen City. He rarely used WeChat, and after he changed phones, he couldn’t log in anymore.

He’d ditched the phone card because the man’s creditors kept harassing him with calls and spam messages. The phone change happened when a ceiling panel, loosened during renovations at the bar, fell and smashed directly onto his phone.

He had never logged in to that WeChat account again.

But…

His gaze wandered through the night, gentle and refined. “Ye Mian, have you checked QQ lately?”

“…”
Hearing his words, Ye Mian exited WeChat and tapped into QQ, but having neglected it for so long, she’d been automatically logged out.

She really hadn’t used it in ages.

With a thoughtful expression, she logged in. Many classmates were still online, and some had sent her messages about the college entrance exam, but she hadn’t replied to any. By habit from her previous life, after the scores came out, she barely opened the app anymore.

A red dot marked the contacts list, encircling the small number 3.

—New friend requests.

She tapped in.

Two were from classmates in Class One, introducing themselves for some unknown reason.

The third was from a new account, with the default gray penguin avatar, but the nickname shone unmistakably: Jiang Chen.

!!!

Ye Mian stared in disbelief at the request. The timestamp was August, and the method of addition was via group chat.

The message read: WeChat isn’t working for now. My phone number is 138 x x x x x x x x.

Jiang Chen glanced nonchalantly at the shock on her face. “See, you didn’t check, then you avoided me, and now you’re blaming me for being heartless.”

…

It was a misunderstanding—a monumental one.

Ye Mian felt like crying, especially when she noticed the time on the request was only six hours apart from her last login. There was no way to describe her sorrow.

She remembered that holiday, how many nights she’d agonized over the issue.

So all that resentment was… for nothing?

After a moment’s hesitation, Ye Mian said, “Sorry, but you can’t put all the blame on me.”

No sooner had she finished than the boy beside her let out a low, enigmatic laugh. “You’re right.”

Ye Mian glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “I didn’t catch that—what did you say?”

His slender fingers moved the steering wheel with ease, and while waiting at the red light, he turned to face her, his eyes gentle, speaking each word slowly and earnestly. “I said, you’re right.”

The thick, endless night cast diffuse light and shadow over his profile, accentuating his features. He was handsome, his bone structure striking—Ye Mian had never seen anyone so beautiful.

She should have met his gaze with composure, but the warmth rising to her cheeks made her turn away, a little flustered. It seemed that every time she looked into those eyes, her heart was thrown into disarray.

Not wanting him to notice, she feigned carsickness, leaned back, and closed her eyes. “Can I sleep for a bit?”

“Go ahead. I’ll wake you when we arrive.” Jiang Chen’s voice was pleasant. In the quiet car, Ye Mian heard him lower the airflow on her side. The gentle breeze lifted the strands of hair brushing her face.

The temperature hovered around twenty-five degrees Celsius, neither too cold nor too warm, and there wasn’t a trace of leather odor in the car.

The shifting lights illuminated her cheeks intermittently.

In such comfort, her excuse became reality.

She fell asleep—and slept soundly.

Between dream and waking, Ye Mian couldn’t tell if she was dreaming or if the ride was just bumpy. She clutched the seatbelt, her brows faintly furrowed.

Just when she could bear it no longer, Jiang Chen reached to the back seat, took a pillow, and placed it beside her seat, gently guiding her head onto it.

His fingertips brushed her hair lightly. His gaze grew softer for a moment before he withdrew his hand and continued driving with practiced ease.

Throughout the process, he said nothing unnecessary and did nothing foolish. He was as quiet as ever, even carrying a certain ingrained coolness.

He looked out at the dazzling cityscape.

For a moment, it felt like an illusion.

Something had been off since last summer.

He’d thought the breeze from East Alley could never reach the old locust tree.

He’d never intended to say anything, not even now when life no longer forced him to bow his head. Yet past experiences made him believe the girl deserved someone better.

His barren heart felt as if a gust of wind had swept through.

But now, he had the chance to become a better person.

…

“Ye Mian, time to wake up.”

She awoke to Jiang Chen’s voice, cool and clear, cutting through the haze.

The car had been parked outside Wen University’s gate for twenty minutes. Any longer, and she really wouldn’t make it in.

Ye Mian rubbed her eyes, surprised that she’d actually fallen asleep.

Secretly, she thought: Ye Mian, you really have a big heart!

She turned to Jiang Chen and said politely, “Thank you.”

Jiang Chen nodded gently, taking his phone with measured composure. “Shall we add each other on WeChat? Otherwise, I’m afraid three months from now I’ll be scolded again.”

???

He really held a grudge!

Ye Mian blushed, silently took out her phone, scanned Jiang Chen’s QR code, and added him as a friend. Then she opened the car door and said, “I’ll head in now—time is tight. Thank you for the ride. Be careful on your way back. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye,” Jiang Chen nodded. Only when her figure disappeared into the campus did he withdraw his gaze and drive away.