"You're already downstairs in your dormitory. You should go up now; I can walk back by myself. I just want to take a stroll alone!"
Yu Suihuan wanted to walk around the small courtyard by herself. When she was alone, she could think more clearly and relax her mind and body.
"How did you get in here?" Yang Qinghe asked, surprised. "Is the school's security this lax?"
Seeing that it was Yang Qinghe, Yu Suihuan replied with annoyance, "Where have you been these days? I was really worried about you!"
"Why are you worried about me? You have a fiancée now. Are you looking at someone else's bowl while eating from your own?" Yang Qinghe retorted. "I never realized you could be so heartless."
"Xiao Yu, I know you're mad at me! But I want to tell you that the engagement wasn't my choice; I would never agree to this marriage!"
"Oh, what does that have to do with me? Whether you agree or not, you're already engaged, and that's a fact! Besides, I already have someone now. It’s really inappropriate for you to keep bothering me! Sorry, I'm tired! Goodbye! Or rather, let’s not meet again!"
After saying that, Yu Suihuan entered the dormitory building. Just as Yang Qinghe wanted to chase after her to explain further, he was stopped by the dormitory supervisor.
"Hey, young man, let's talk another day! This is a girls' dormitory!"
In the past few days, Yu Suihuan had been pestered by both Huo Yaojun and Yang Qinghe. One would invite her to dinner while the other suggested watching a movie, making her feel overwhelmed.
Just when she had finally managed to adjust her mood, those two disrupted her peace once again. What surprised Yu Suihuan was that no matter how sarcastic or insulting she was towards Yang Qinghe, he remained unfazed and stayed right beside her without any intention of leaving.
"Yang Qinghe, how did I never notice before that your skin is so thick?" she exclaimed.
"I only want you; what do I need a thick skin for?" he replied confidently.
Yu Suihuan felt helpless; it seemed like he was glued to her side like an adhesive plaster—no amount of scolding or hitting would make him budge. However, she was relieved that a trip was about to begin, giving her another chance to escape for some peace.
The night before their departure, feeling particularly annoyed, Yu Suihuan called Wang Zhaoran to accompany her.
"Let’s not go by the river this time; I'm afraid of water!" she said.
Wang Zhaoran teased her back, "And besides, the riverside isn’t safe."
"Alright then," Yu Suihuan agreed. "It’s getting cooler lately; going by the river isn’t suitable anyway! How about we go to our Siheyuan? It’s safe and quiet there—no one will disturb us!"
The two of them packed some prepared food as usual, and Yu Suihuan took out the red wine he had brought back from Italy. He felt that he had been drinking a lot lately, and without realizing it, his tolerance for alcohol had increased significantly.
"Wang Zhao Ran, am I a jerk?"
Yu Suihuan had recently discovered that he might be having difficulty accepting Huo Yaojun, while she seemed to be intentionally getting closer to Yang Qinghe, showing no signs of rejection.
"What do you mean?"
"It feels like I don't have that spark with Huo Yaojun. I think I can't keep giving him hope!"
"If you really don't like him, it's better to tell him sooner rather than later. It would be kinder to him!"
"You're right; I was thinking the same thing. But since I'm leaving soon, I can only wait until I come back to tell him!"
"Do you still have feelings for Yang Qinghe?"
"Maybe, but he's not mine anymore! Ha!"
Yu Suihuan forced a smile, recalling the lyrics that said some people, once missed, are gone forever.
"Even though I seem fine on the outside, I'm still sad inside."
"I can see that! But time is the best medicine for healing wounds; it will eventually pass!"
"Yes, sometimes fate brings people together but keeps them apart; there's no point in forcing it."
As Yu Suihuan spoke these words, his tone turned melancholic. Little did he know that Wang Zhao Ran noticed every subtle change in his expression and kept it all in mind.
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