Chapter 50

After her tutoring session, Du Ruo headed back to campus. It was right around noon.
Late July. Beijing was baking, over 40 degrees. Just walking outside felt like you’d evaporate.
There was no AC in the dorms. Thankfully, at the end of last term, her senior, Zhai Miao, had given her an old fan before leaving. It helped, barely, but after a midday nap she was still drenched in sweat.
She splashed cold water on her face, packed her bag, and escaped to the library to piggyback off the air conditioning. The campus was crawling with parents and kids, braving the sun for campus tours, the heat and crowds making everything even more stifling.
The library was blissfully cool, she stayed until it was late, then headed back to the deserted dorm. She swept and cleaned, changed out her sheets and duvet cover, and didn’t stop until deep into the night.
Shower done, she flopped onto her bed as the fan rattled away.
Only then did she remember Jing Ming. She grabbed her phone to check, no message, nothing all day. Was he just not thinking of her?
She cranked the fan higher, rolled over, and tried to sleep.
But after a while, sleep wouldn’t come. She groped for her phone, hesitated, then set it aside again.
Three days later, the ridiculous heat wave finally broke, down to a “mere” 37 degrees.
Du Ruo lived in the study halls from morning till night, reading, taking notes, tuning out the rest of the world.
For some reason, Jing Ming still hadn’t contacted her. Maybe he’d just forgotten, buried under some project.
She didn’t reach out either. Sometimes, she’d think of him and check her phone, always an empty notification bar, then toss it aside again.
She was keeping her cool; meanwhile, Jing Ming on the other end was anything but calm.
Day after day, no word from Du Ruo, the girl might as well have vanished. Not even a “hi.”
He holed up in his study for days, ate in silence, glowering like someone owed him millions.
He sulked alone, until a wild hope took root: maybe she was deliberately going for “build up, then shock”, keeping her distance just to surprise him with something big at the last minute.
He waited, heart pounding, until the clock struck midnight on the very last day. Messages from everyone else flooded in, but from her, radio silence.
This was the first time in his life that Jing Ming truly understood what it meant for your heart to hit rock bottom.
He got up early that day, picked at the longevity noodles Ming Yi cooked for him, then pushed his chopsticks away and left. At noon, relatives swarmed the house to wish the family well, the place a riot of laughter and chaos, all for him.
Jing Ming sat in the middle of the noise, even more on edge. He ignored everyone, lost every game he played, the kids were loud and annoying, he finally fled upstairs for some peace.
By afternoon, still nothing from Du Ruo.
Jing Ming finally broke and texted: “Where are you?”
He tossed his phone aside and grabbed a book, but she didn’t reply. He checked again, it wasn’t on silent. She just hadn’t answered. He instantly lost his temper and hurled his phone across the room.
He stared at his book a long while, then snatched his phone back and typed: “I’ll pick you up at 7 tonight.”
Still nothing.
After a few minutes of tense silence, Jing Ming abruptly slammed the desk. The books sailed off in a messy arc to the other end.
…
The heat was brutal, Du Ruo didn’t even leave the teaching building at lunch, just gnawed on a bun to get by. She’d planned to stay until night, but by six, her stomach demanded otherwise.
She packed up and went to the cafeteria. Afterwards, as she stepped outside, she unexpectedly bumped into Li Qinghe on his way out too.
“What are you doing here?” Du Ruo blinked in surprise.
“Orbit’s been on break, we’re regrouping tomorrow.”
“Same with us, actually.”
Li Qinghe hadn’t gone to Shenzhen for the big race, so he grinned, “Congrats, by the way, world’s number one!”
“It was the team, the team!”
“I’m honestly happy for you, that you did so well with your crew.” He added, “Even Senior Yi praised you, you know.”
Du Ruo was skeptical: “Really? I met him in Shenzhen, still as stern as ever, scared me out of my mind.”
Li Qinghe laughed, “I’m serious! He hardly ever gives out praise.” Then sighed, “A shame we didn’t manage to keep you.”
“Don’t start with that again, we already went through this. Even if things ended awkwardly with Senior Wu, I’m still grateful to you and Senior Yi.”
Li Qinghe said, “You give us too much credit. Sure, there’s competition between teams, but we’re still friends. Don’t forget.”
Du Ruo grinned. “What, you think I’d hold a grudge? You wouldn’t, either.”
“Definitely not.” He laughed, then glanced up, they’d already reached the girls’ dorm. He lifted a hand in farewell, “Go on in, I’m off too. Bye!”
“Bye!” Du Ruo waved, watched him walk away, smiled, then turned to climb the steps, only to see Jing Ming standing under a maple, his eyes jet-black and still, fixed on her.
Du Ruo brightened, checked that no students were around, then trotted over and asked softly, “What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t coming till tomorrow morning.”
Jing Ming didn’t answer. He just gave her a once-over, then quietly shot back, “Did you not see my messages?”
She froze. “Oh, I left my phone in the dorm.”
Jing Ming nearly choked on his own patience, barely keeping his face pleasant as he turned away. “Let’s go.”
Du Ruo happily fell in step. “Where to?”
He didn’t respond, acting like he hadn’t heard.
She watched him, puzzled, but couldn’t figure out what was wrong.
They got to the parking lot and climbed in. He drove normally around campus, but the moment they hit the Fourth Ring, he floored it, speeding like mad.
Du Ruo gripped the door, heart pounding. “Can you slow down? What’s the rush?”
He ignored her, face cold and focused on the road.
She was totally confused, but soon realized he was in a bad mood, though she had no idea why. Was it really because she forgot her phone? He wouldn’t be this mad over that…right?
His temper, honestly…
Forget it. If she tried to comfort him now, it’d probably backfire. Better to just be quiet and let him cool down first.
The car finally stopped at an elegant, traditional Chinese garden restaurant. Three calligraphed characters were carved into a boulder out front: “Wuyu Xuan.”
This was a place for dinner.
Night had fallen, and paper lanterns swayed gently in the breeze along the long corridors, casting a soft glow, but neither of them was in the mood to admire the view.
A qipao-clad hostess bowed, leading the way.
Jing Ming stalked forward in silence, heading into a private dining room. Du Ruo trailed after him inside.
The room was huge, tastefully arranged with a piano, calligraphy, and paintings, cultured and elegant.
A refined dinner spread across the rosewood table, each dish a feast for the eyes and the palate: slices of roast duck, steamed fish, lily bulbs with celery, stir-fried shrimp, lettuce with dace, tofu and cucumber soup, Dragon Well tea, corn juice, and a steamer full of soft, glutinous rice cakes.
Jing Ming sat down first, leaning back in his chair, silent, just watching her.
Du Ruo sat as well, moving cautiously, pretty sure he had invited her to dinner but, since she hadn’t seen any texts, got upset about it. She felt wronged, but decided letting him stew for a bit was fine, she didn’t want things to get worse. So she picked up her chopsticks, serving herself some food, and after a moment asked, “Are we waiting for anyone else?”
“Waiting for who?” he shot back, pure sarcasm.
“Oh, I just saw all this food. Thought maybe there’d be others.” She kept her head down, refusing to argue.
She’d already caught the storm brewing under his calm voice, so she just let it go and focused on eating. Trouble was, she’d scarfed down a whole bowl of ramen at school earlier and had no room left. After a couple bites, she was already forcing herself.
He noticed. He always did.
He never picked up his chopsticks, just leaned back and watched her. For a long time. The scene outside her dorm tonight echoed that day at the Bird’s Nest, embarrassment looping, humiliation on repeat.
Suddenly, he spoke: “From now on, don’t hang out with Li Qinghe anymore.”
She looked up, startled. “What?”
“I don’t like it,” he said flatly. “I really don’t like it.”
“Why?”
“No reason.”
Du Ruo muttered, “You’re being unreasonable.”
“So what if I am?!” His voice rose, but he kept it together, turning to glare at the calligraphy on the wall and giving a cold laugh. “Du Ruo, do you even get the situation? Who is he to you, anyway? Why are you always eating and chatting with him, don’t you have a boyfriend to hang out with?”
“You… What’s even going on in your head?” Flustered and embarrassed, Du Ruo’s face went red. “Can’t I have guy friends? Li Wei and He Wang and Wan Zi’ang are all friends too, why don’t you care about them?”
“They’re fine. Him, absolutely not!”
“And why’s that?”
“Because I said so!”
Completely impossible! She shoved her chopsticks away, turned her face aside, meeting his glare with icy silence.
She was firmly protesting, face stiff, like he couldn’t tell. The fire he’d been nursing these last few days roared up, all his frustration boiling over. He could barely control himself, yet still managed a cold question: “You’re not into him, are you?”
The question jolted her, she looked up at him, taken aback.
He sneered, “What exactly does that guy have going for him? Hm? Enlighten me.”
Du Ruo’s face changed, not sure what she’d done to set him off this time. He was being so over the top, she couldn’t take it anymore. “Can you drop the attitude? My senior is nice, has a great temper, is smart and good-looking, everything’s good except his family’s just normal. If someone liked him, no surprise there.”
“True.” He sank back, tapping his fingers on the table, snorting. “Sounds perfect for you.”
It was like a knife straight to her heart. She stared at him, wide-eyed, shocked he’d actually say that.
His jaw clenched, gaze brazen. He meant every word, no apologies given.
“Do you really have to be this cruel?” She could barely speak, humiliation and anger twisting her words. “You think you’re hot stuff just because you’re loaded?”
He snapped right back. “You think you’re hot stuff just because you’re not?”
Du Ruo choked on the retort, her cheeks burning. “You act like you’re perfect? Please. You’re arrogant, self-absorbed, look down on everyone. Seriously unbearable!”
Jing Ming’s face kept getting darker, minute by minute. “You done? ‘Arrogant, self-absorbed, spoiled brat’, is that all you know how to say? Hell, I could recite it for you! You repeat it over and over, doesn’t it get old?!”
His outburst stunned her. “…You’re right. It’s pointless.” Her disappointment was crushing. “I thought you’d changed, but honestly? You haven’t changed at all.”
Jing Ming looked at her, incredulous, as if she’d just told a joke. “Changed? For who? You? What, you think dating me is some charity case? Du Ruo, me, Jing Ming, never change for anyone. However I was, however I am, that’s who I’ll always be. Best accept it.”
When he wanted to wound you, his words cut deep as knives.
Du Ruo’s heart throbbed with pain. She couldn’t stay a second longer and made to leave.
“Sit down!” He didn’t move, but his voice was a cold command. “Finish your meal before you go.”
Reflex made her freeze, hating herself for being so easily cowed. She looked at him, defiant. “I was already full before I came!” With that, she spun for the door.
Jing Ming seethed, sprang up, and caught her, dragging her back.
Du Ruo stumbled, crashing right up into him. She stared at him, frightened. “Let go!”
He wouldn’t. He bent down, voice clipped, “I said, you’re not leaving till you eat.”
“I told you, I’m not eating!” she yelled, shoving him away. She lost her balance, lurching into a fancy wooden shelf nearby.
Jing Ming hesitated a split second, then hauled her back to shield her, but his own balance gave, and he crashed straight into the shelf. The skinny boy’s back slammed into the sharp frame, pain draining all color from his face.
With a crash, the shelf toppled, and a square cardboard box hit the floor, splitting open.
Birthday cake, in pieces everywhere.
Jing Ming gritted through the agony in his back, barely staying upright. Du Ruo, meanwhile, found herself stepping on something. She moved her foot, a pair of candles: 1 and 9.
She’d crushed them flat. She gaped, saw the ruined candles and mangled cake, then looked up at him. “You, ”
Jing Ming’s temper boiled over. “You really didn’t know it was my birthday?”
Du Ruo felt wronged and small. “How was I supposed to know? You never told me!”
“I told you I’m a Leo! Couldn’t you have paid half an ounce of attention, looked it up?” He turned away, gripping the table, shoulders trembling with rage.
The mood swung, fast and fierce.
He didn’t look at her, gave a cold, clear order. “Fine. If you want to leave, go.”
Du Ruo stood rooted to the spot, cheeks flaming, eyes bright with unshed tears. She’d never celebrated a birthday herself, never cared what sign anyone was. If she’d made a careless mistake, he’d done everything on purpose. He was just as wrong, but now she was the one who had to apologize, as if she were the villain.
Why should she?
She shifted, body ready to bolt, but wavered toward the door.
He saw her in the corner of his eye, back tensing.
But she stopped. She couldn’t do it. Fuming, she still couldn’t just walk out on him.
He watched, wary, as she finally stilled, then, glancing at the demolished cake, she suddenly crouched down and scooped out a messy handful of frosting, pure stubbornness driving her.
Jing Ming stared, dumbfounded, then strode over and pulled her up. “What are you doing now?”
She met his eyes, near tears. “Didn’t you say I can’t leave till I finish everything? You mad I forgot your birthday? Fine, I’ll eat every bit here and apologize, okay?” She tried to wrench free.
“You’re just trying to piss me off, aren’t you?!” His voice was ragged, torn between panic and fury. He yanked her back and wiped the cake smeared on her hand. “Who forced you to eat? Who forced you to eat cake! Couldn’t you just drop your pride and coax me for once?! Would that kill you?!”
“Why should I comfort you when you’re yelling at me? Why can’t you just say what you want instead of blaming me? I just didn’t know about the Leo thing, big deal!”
“Because you don’t care enough!”
“I do, ” She was so hurt her eyes filled with tears. She jerked her head back, blinking hard, refusing to let them fall.
He paused, stunned, guilt flickering across his face.
“Don’t cry!” He couldn’t stand to see her like this. He grabbed a tissue to wipe her eyes.
“I don’t need your help!” She slapped his hand away and dropped into a chair.
He stood there, chest heaving, not following after her.
Her eyes were still red, she didn’t cry, but refused to look his way or say a word. The wrongness inside her was so deep she didn’t know where to start. It was his birthday, he acted like he was king. Everything was somehow her fault.
Jing Ming sat at the far end, looking just as frustrated, seething quietly. Yet her tears, he couldn’t bear it, so he held back.
So they both sat there, not speaking, locked in a silent war.
Both felt equally wronged, trapped with nowhere to let it out. Both just as stubborn, refusing to yield.
Dinner ended in disaster, silence heavy in the air.
Jing Ming drove Du Ruo back to campus. Right before she got out, he spoke coldly:
“I’m asking one last time, are you still going to see him?”
She didn’t answer. Unbuckled, opened the door, stepped out, and slammed it behind her, never once looking back.
Jing Ming nearly exploded, fists clenching on the steering wheel.
This wasn’t over. Not even close.
If she didn’t come around, he’d never say another word to her in this lifetime!