After Running Away From Her Wedding, The Tsundere Young Lady Went Crazy - Chapter 15

The “Grand and Tumultuous” Feats of Love

For several nights in a row, Ji Songshu had been comprehending and studying those profound romantic literary works. She was certain that she had mastered them and integrated their teachings; even if she were asked to write a literature review on the spot, it would come to her effortlessly.

The appointed day arrived quickly.

On Friday afternoon, to create the illusion that she had just finished class, Ji Songshu found a classroom for self-study. After she sat down, two other students soon entered. Even though the entire room was full of empty seats, one of them chose to sit directly behind her.

This caused her a subtle sense of discomfort, and she silently moved forward several rows.

After a few dozen minutes, she finished her homework. With the time drawing near, she packed her things and headed downstairs.

The sky was clear for ten thousand miles. The elongated eaves sliced through the sunlight, creating a clear boundary between light and shadow at the entrance. Outside was a world of brightness, but just as Ji Songshu was about to step out, she was blocked in the shadows by someone.

It was a short man. Looking straight ahead, Ji Songshu could see the top of his head—a very sparse and barren patch. She recognized him as the person who had deliberately sat behind her.

“I finally waited long enough for you!” the man spoke excitedly.

“I’m sorry, who are you?”

“We met at the entrance of the cafeteria.”

One could encounter practically everyone in the school who needed to eat at the cafeteria entrance, Ji Songshu grumbled internally, but she maintained a polite smile: “Is there something I can help you with?”

The man moved closer, revealing a face like elephant skin, with grease and oozing acne filling every crevice.

“Can I buy the socks you’re wearing? One thousand per sock. You take them off and give them to me, and I’ll pay right now.”

His fervent gaze clung to her. Alarm bells rang in Ji Songshu’s heart. She had no desire to answer and tried to bypass him to leave.

However, the man took a wide step to block her path, his eyes leering. “You don’t have to be shy! I know you girls are all like this. I can raise the price—ten thousand a night… oh, no, ten thousand per sock.”

As he spoke, his hand reached out to grab Ji Songshu’s shoulder. Startled, she flinched and dodged him, then took off running.

She ran several hundred meters and looked back; the man hadn’t chased her. She hurried to the security office at the school gate to report the pervert.

As luck would have it, the surveillance camera in that specific spot was broken—there was video, but no audio. From the footage, one could only infer that she had spoken a few words to the man and then ran away; there was no other evidence.

The security guard also stated that because she hadn’t suffered “substantial harm,” the matter couldn’t be reported to higher authorities.

Ji Songshu stood there dejectedly, feeling a sense of powerlessness eroding her. She looked at the image on the screen. The monitor identified the man: Shao Rao. This name matched the student ID number Senior Ke Yan had given her.

At that moment, she received a text message from an unknown number.

[Next time, I want to see you in white silk stockings.]

The content was accompanied by a photo of her retreating back as she fled.

Ji Songshu felt a wave of nausea and immediately blocked the number.

Just then, a silver sports car glimmered in the sunlight as it drove up. The window rolled down, revealing Shang Keyu’s gorgeous face—a face that had every right to look down on the world.

She didn’t say anything, but when the guard saw her, he raised the barrier at the school gate. Her gaze suddenly paused.

Through the square window of the security office, she saw Ji Songshu standing in the shadows with her arms hanging limp, meeting that pitiful, moist gaze.

Shang Keyu tilted her head slightly and hooked her index finger toward Ji Songshu, signaling her to get in the car.

Ji Songshu thanked the guard and walked out. Upon exiting, she felt “scalded” by the sunlight and shrank back slightly before rushing into Shang Keyu’s car.

She sat there quietly, saying nothing.

“Seatbelt,” Shang Keyu reminded her.

Ji Songshu snapped out of her daze, fastened the belt, and asked, “You’re an outsider to the school. Why are you allowed to enter?”

Shang Keyu found it amusing: “I’ve donated several buildings to your school. Why do you think I can’t come in?”

“Oh, I see,” Ji Songshu responded, still sounding depressed.

“What’s wrong?” Shang Keyu frowned. “Unhappy to see me?”

Ji Songshu shook her head. “Something happened.”

After a moment of thought, she recounted what had just occurred. She was uncertain in her heart, not knowing if Shang Keyu was willing to help or if she even could.

After listening, Shang Keyu didn’t speak but directly handed over her own phone.

Ji Songshu took it blankly. “What is this for?”

“In the contacts under ‘F,’ the second one is your school’s President. The third is your school’s Party Secretary. I believe your school is directly under the Ministry of Education, so you can also look for the first one under ‘S’.”

“To what level do you want to report this?” Shang Keyu asked nonchalantly.

Ji Songshu was stunned and stammered, “But I don’t have evidence.”

“As long as an investigation is launched, evidence will naturally appear.”

Ji Songshu understood. She said, “Thank you.” After a long pause, she added, “You are so good to me.”

“Don’t misunderstand. I just don’t like dirty things,” Shang Keyu’s voice was cold.

Ji Songshu froze. A voice in her heart protested—she wasn’t a dirty thing! Why call her that? The one who was truly dirty was someone else entirely.

A few days later, two male students were announced to be expelled: one was Shao Rao, and the other was a perpetrator from a similar previous incident. The voices on the forum celebrated their successful defense of their rights, though that was a story for later.

The car drove out of the school, jolting as it ran over a speed bump.

Ji Songshu held her backpack in her lap and asked Shang Keyu, “Where are we going to inspect today?”

Shang Keyu choked for a moment. “We aren’t talking about work today.”

“So, today is a real date?” Ji Songshu crossed her hands over her knees and tilted her head to look at her, her face full of anticipation.

Thinking of today’s plan, Shang Keyu fell silent. Being watched by those eyes that were as clear as water and filled with light, she found it a bit hard to speak. After a long while, she said:

“I’m on leave today. Let’s go out to clear our heads.”

Half an hour later, the car stopped at Lakeside Park.

The fragmented golden sunlight danced on the rippling surface of the lake, and the wind swirled the gingko leaves on the ground into a golden carpet. The sound of pine trees, ripples, and the wind played together like a poetic, musical autumn. The road turned at a sharp corner; looking ahead, it felt as if the end of the path led straight into the sea.

Ji Songshu walked beside Shang Keyu, shoulder to shoulder. She felt that Shang Keyu had something to say, yet the other woman remained silent.

When they turned the corner, they returned to the human world. Various vendors with colorful signs began to appear, and the crowd was bustling and lively. It seemed like a fair was being held; there were stalls full of small accessories, and the aroma of grilled sausages and fried cold noodles wafted directly into Ji Songshu’s nose.

She blew over like a gust of wind, bought two grilled sausages, and handed one to Shang Keyu.

“You’ve probably never eaten something so ‘common’ before, right?”

Shang Keyu took a bite directly from Ji Songshu’s hand. “It’s alright.”

Further ahead, there was a balloon-shooting stall. Seeing customers, the owner greeted them with a face full of wrinkles and smiles, explaining that if someone hit ten balloons in a row, they could choose any prize in the house.

Out of the corner of her eye, Ji Songshu spotted a Bagel Rabbit squishy in the corner. Upon closer inspection, it was actually a discontinued model that would squeak when squeezed!

“Boss, can I exchange for that pendant?” she raised her hand.

“That one? No, that’s not allowed.”

“Not for any amount of money?” Shang Keyu asked again.

“It’s not a matter of money… How about this? I’ll set it as the Grand Prize. If you can pop every single balloon here without missing once, you can take it home.”

Without missing a single shot? That was too difficult! Ji Songshu felt a bit discouraged.

“That’s it?” Shang Keyu’s tone was full of ease.

Ji Songshu looked at her in surprise. Shang Keyu had already picked up the gun from the table. She weighed it in her hand, then raised the muzzle. With almost no aiming, she fired several consecutive shots—bang bang bang—and a row of balloons burst instantly.

This continued until the very end.

Only two balloons remained on the wall. Ji Songshu suddenly noticed something was wrong. She said, “There’s only one bullet left, Boss.”

The owner said, “Sorry, but this is all that’s left. I said you couldn’t miss a shot; I didn’t say there would be plenty of bullets.”

“How can you be like this! If you didn’t want to give it away, why propose the challenge? Are you playing us?” Ji Songshu protested.

Shang Keyu patted her shoulder, signaling that she could handle it. Ji Songshu stopped talking, though she felt skeptical. Looking at those two balloons, she couldn’t help but hold her breath.

Shang Keyu suddenly asked, “Do you often encounter situations like today?”

Ji Songshu didn’t react for a second, then realized she was referring to Shao Rao.

“Occasionally. Most people in our school are normal. But there are always fish that slip through the net. After all, exams only filter out the bad students; they can’t filter out the scumbags.”

“Next time this happens, you can tell me.”

“Believe me, I can settle anything.”

Simultaneously, Shang Keyu shifted the muzzle and pulled the trigger. The bullet pierced through the air, struck the wooden frame, and its trajectory changed. The two balloons were pierced in a single line, bursting instantly.

Ji Songshu was stunned.

“That’s amazing! One hundred percent accuracy… no, two hundred percent!”

At her praise, Shang Keyu merely tilted her chin slightly. She picked up the Bagel Rabbit squishy from the table, squeezed it herself first until it was flat, and handed it to her.

Ji Songshu gave her two thumbs up, unable to put the squishy down. Every time she squeezed it, the Bagel Rabbit went “squeak.”

Shang Keyu’s voice became unconsciously soft: “The rumor that you had seven exes… was that the same kind of situation as today?”

Ji Songshu froze. she didn’t know how to answer. Her hand didn’t let up, and the Bagel Rabbit let out a sharp, long “squeaaaak—”.

Ji Songshu desperately wanted to take this “out” and agree, but the story of Pei Jiyue and those seven exes was a widely circulated campus legend. As long as Shang Keyu investigated, it could never be hidden.

In comparison, being a “prodigal daughter returning home” was better than hiding her relationship history.

Thus, Ji Songshu forced herself to say, “No, I really did date them.”

Shang Keyu’s expression didn’t change—or rather, it became as stiff as a Babylonian stone tablet covered in reflections on life and the universe. She knew far more than Ji Songshu thought she did. Ye Qingyu had told her all about Pei Jiyue’s “grand and tumultuous” romantic feats.

“So…”

“You really wrote a thirty-thousand-word essay for an ex-girlfriend and read it out loud in front of the whole school?”

“Ah? Uh… yeah…”

“To get back together, you signed up for a ‘Relationship Masterclass’ and were scammed out of 200,000?”

“Um…”

“You dated someone online for three months, only to find out during the ‘meet-up’ that their child was the same age as you?”

“En…”

“You were caught red-handed two-timing and defended yourself by saying you had a split personality, so it didn’t count as cheating?”

Save me! What on earth did Pei Jiyue do! Ji Songshu couldn’t keep going. She covered her face and said, “I beg you, stop talking.”

Shang Keyu fell into a strange silence. At that moment, a message arrived on her phone.

[The main attacker, Honest-as-a-Banana-Leaf, is in position. Operation ‘Catch the Moon’ officially begins.]

Not far away, Ye Qingyu, dressed in a top hat and cloak, was waiting in full battle array.

“Operation Catch the Moon” was a plan she had named and curated personally, all to let her childhood friend—who had poor eyesight for people—see Pei Jiyue’s true colors.

She had prepared a heart-stopping magic performance. Pei Jiyue was most afraid of animals with pointed beaks, so she was going to make a bunch of chickens appear around her. Pei Jiyue would surely be scared out of her wits, chased around while screaming. To lose face like that in front of everyone, she definitely wouldn’t be able to bear it and would surely reveal her fierce and brutal true nature.

What a smooth, perfect plan! Ye Qingyu couldn’t help but marvel. Asking herself, she didn’t think she was being excessive; Pei Jiyue used to scare Niannian with dogs all the time. This was just the turning of the wheel of karma.

Before it even began, she could already foresee Pei Jiyue’s wretched appearance. At the thought of this, she couldn’t help but laugh, startling the pigeons in the trees, who cooed and scattered while dropping droppings.

Ji Songshu looked around, feeling as though she had heard a familiar laugh. Having failed to find the source after a while, she turned back to face Shang Keyu.

Shang Keyu’s expression was quite subtle. She didn’t speak, and a bizarre atmosphere permeated between the two of them.

Ji Songshu regretted admitting to those things. Perhaps Shang Keyu trusted her so much she wouldn’t have bothered to verify them? Had she made her angry?

Ji Songshu gathered her courage and tugged on Shang Keyu’s sleeve. When Shang Keyu looked at her, she stared back with watery eyes veiled in a thin mist.

The novels said that acting cute was useful, and squeezing out a few tears made it even better.

After a long pause, Shang Keyu let out an imperceptible sigh: “Let’s keep walking.”

In her heart, Ji Songshu set off fireworks. Pressing her advantage, she raised her palm and swore: “Don’t worry, I will definitely mend my ways. I won’t be like that anymore. From now on, there is and will only be you. Can you please not be mad at me?”

Shang Keyu didn’t even give her a glance, her tone stiff: “Don’t use the same tricks you used on your ex-girlfriends on me.”