I Heard That I am a HeartBreaker - Chapter 25

People always seem to be pathologically inclined to seek substitute emotions in others, yet that is clearly wrong.

Qiu Shuang longed for a “mother,” yearned to possess a “mother.”

So, she would always romanticize the shortcomings that should not have existed—control, extreme possessiveness, and restriction. These undesirable emotions were what she chose in her new “mothers.”

Her flesh cried out for death; her soul yearned for new life.

She couldn’t help but draw close to those people, yet spiritually, something told her this was incorrect. She spent her brief early life suppressing her psychological illness, trying with all her might to be a “successful” and normal person.

She was accustomed to being abandoned. In every interaction with a stranger, Qiu Shuang waited to be abandoned.

Qiu Shuang seemed to be a mountain. Everyone saw the beautiful scenery on the mountain’s surface, all believing it to be calm, sunny, and incredibly magnificent. But the ground beneath the mountain had long been hollow. It was quietly waiting for that violent day, the day it would thoroughly collapse.

Lu Chen was a continuous river. Everyone felt happy for the calm waves and the tranquility without storms, but in reality, the seemingly peaceful surface had long been turbulent beneath.

“You’re slowly changing those things, Shuang Shuang. You’re trying so hard.”

Qiu Shuang fell silent. What should she do now? Should she remain in comfort or presumptuously grasp the last life-saving straw and then fall?

“Shuang Shuang, when the sun rises tomorrow, you will realize this is just an ordinary day.”

Ordinary? On such an ordinary day, would I still be lucky enough to meet you? And would you still indulge me like this, tolerate my continued tears?

Qiu Shuang said goodbye to the person. She was very grateful, but some things were destined for her to walk to the end alone. She would return to the splendid dream, forgetting the unpleasant things of the past…

Everyone in this society wears a hypocritical mask. Everyone is like this.

They are afraid of taking off their true clothes, afraid of being seen by others.

“I’m warning you for the last time! If I hear you badmouthing Qiu Shuang behind her back again, you can just wait to die!”

Qiu Shuang stood there, listening with her head bowed to the angry voice beside her, like a child who had made a mistake. Song Ya stood with her hands on her hips, yelling at the unfamiliar boy opposite her.

“And who are you? What sort of lowlife are you, a toad trying to eat swan meat! You have the audacity to pursue our Shuang Shuang? Trash like you should just have your whole family die!”

Chen Wanjun, who had been looking for the two of them for a long time, just arrived and saw this scene. She frowned.

“What happened? What are you doing?”

Upon seeing Chen Wanjun, Song Ya rolled her eyes, grabbed the boy opposite by his collar, and shoved him away.

“It’s just this person, spreading rumors behind Shuang Shuang’s back that he was dating her. Truly a toad trying to eat swan meat.”

Chen Wanjun’s face instantly darkened upon hearing this. Her hand, hidden in her pocket, clenched into a fist. She stared intensely at the annoying fellow, then turned to look at Qiu Shuang, seemingly wanting to ask what was going on.

Qiu Shuang lowered her head. She certainly didn’t know this boy. She had only seen him on the way to school, noticing his pale face, and after learning he had low blood sugar, she handed him the chocolate from her pocket. That was all.

“One piece of chocolate, and you’re spreading rumors? I shouldn’t have given it to you. You should have died in the street from your low blood sugar, you despicable thing!”

Song Ya became even angrier after learning the whole story. What kind of scumbag was this? Men truly were damnable. To repay a life-saving grace like this—what did he want?

Chen Wanjun frowned deeply. She hated trouble the most. She had rushed to search everywhere after finding Qiu Shuang and Song Ya missing today. She knew Song Ya well—she enjoyed playing “exciting” games and getting Qiu Shuang involved in bad things.

She had run all over the campus before finally finding them here.

“It’s always like this. How many times have I told you not to be falsely kind-hearted? Do you see? You helped them, and how are they treating you?”

“And you! If I ever hear any rumors about Qiu Shuang in school again, I don’t care who said it; it will all be blamed on you! I’ll hit you every time I hear it!”

The boy ran away head over heels after hearing Chen Wanjun say that. Qiu Shuang looked at his retreating back and fell silent.

Song Ya raised an eyebrow, shocked that Chen Wanjun didn’t immediately rush up to hit the boy this time.

Or perhaps this method had been used so often that the person had somewhat adapted and no longer easily fell for it.

She clicked on the watch on her wrist, which was practically a small phone.

“Always causing trouble for me. You two go on ahead; I have something else to deal with here.”

Chen Wanjun heard Song Ya’s explanation and guessed that it was probably not far from what she had hypothesized.

The play was over, and the person behind the scenes had guiltily fled.

“Look at you, always like this… And why do you always trust her? Is she that reliable? Can she protect you forever? If you can’t stand on your own, how can anyone else protect you?”

“I’m sorry.”

Three words solved this so-called counseling session. Qiu Shuang looked up at the person. She declared these three words were the most magnificent words in the world.

Whenever she said this, whatever the other person intended to say would immediately be extinguished.

“…Right now, your priority is studying. Absolutely no early romance… We can think about those things when you get to university.”

“No, I don’t like them.”

Qiu Shuang lowered her head. She was actually quite popular at school, after all, everyone knew her as an understanding and very “gentle” girl.

Her desk was always piled with love letters. If Song Ya found them, she would tear them up. If Chen Wanjun found them, she would hand them over to the teacher. But actually, Qiu Shuang would hide a few.

When the dust settled, she would carefully open every letter, read the contents, and write back to the people who sent them.

She appreciated people’s fondness for her and would also earnestly reject them.

Those copy-pasted words circulating online wouldn’t move her. She found it hard to see much sincerity in them. Perhaps a few people were different.

But most people were merely following the crowd, only liking her for her so-called popularity and her pretty face.

“Chen Wanjun, I actually like you.”

Qiu Shuang looked up, her bright, sparkling eyes fixed on the other person. She had been observing the person for a long time. As long as she showed this kind of deep affection, the other person often found it hard to refuse any of her requests. When Chen Wanjun realized what she was saying, she fell silent.

Chen Wanjun didn’t know what lesbianism was and hadn’t thought about it in that way. She was seriously wondering if she had misheard.

Before she could reply, she felt the other person’s hand on her shoulder. Qiu Shuang stood on her tiptoes and placed a kiss on her cheek.

Chen Wanjun didn’t know how to describe her inner feelings. She felt she must be insane. Qiu Shuang awaited the other person’s reaction. She was certain of one thing: Chen Wanjun liked her. It’s just that the other person seemed to have turned that emotion into so-called jealousy and rivalry.

People had to admit that when your gaze can never leave the other person, when you are immersed in their every move and constantly worry about them, this emotion will never be merely a negative one.

“…You must be a little out of your mind. Let’s go quickly.”

Qiu Shuang understood the meaning of the other person’s words, so she “dejectedly” followed behind them.

Chen Wanjun looked at her appearance and felt inexplicably uncomfortable inside.

She cupped Qiu Shuang’s face and placed a kiss on her forehead.

“Don’t be sad. We’ll always be the best of friends, won’t we?”

“But I don’t want to be your friend.”

“…Can we talk about this later?”

Qiu Shuang lowered her eyes. The other person had already relented. Would success still be far away?

She couldn’t wait to get the result she wanted, even if it had caused her a lot of pain in the meantime. None of that mattered now.

She felt they were the most compatible people in the world. They were equally greedy, selfish, and good at pretending. But Qiu Shuang thought she was probably a little more clever than the other person.

At least she saw through the other person, while the other person had never truly seen her, complacently treating her as a so-called idiot.

It seemed like it was going to rain again. Qiu Shuang didn’t like light rain. She only liked heavy rain, because then she would always be lucky enough to meet the other person, battered and wandering.

It was like walking through the streets and alleys and finding a stray kitten, happily bringing it home.

The rain fell continuously, getting heavier and heavier. The scene before her seemed to change constantly, finally becoming a sharp knife. She saw Chen Wanjun. The knife pierced the other person’s neck, and blood splattered on her face.

“Shuang Shuang…”

The other person’s voice kept coming from afar.

“…You’ve actually been hoping for my death, haven’t you?”

Qiu Shuang woke up from the dream, her sharp gasps awakening Qi Sijiao. She quickly sat up to check on Qiu Shuang’s condition.

“Senior, are you alright?”

Qiu Shuang said nothing. She looked up at the other person’s eyes. In the darkness, those eyes seemed to flicker, like a hunter in the jungle.

Qiu Shuang wondered what she was waiting for? Was she waiting for the moment the prey was vulnerable to bite it to death?

Oh, that might sound a little too bloody, but this was the very depiction of their relationship. She understood: the other person was waiting for her to completely break down, the moment she would utterly rely on them.

But Qiu Shuang believed that day would probably never come. She would never bow down, never be swayed, never rely on anyone.

Perhaps Qi Sijiao liked her, but the current habit was not what she wanted.

A sweet and comfortable life wouldn’t make her happy; it would suffocate her. She carried too much; she needed to clear it all out at once before she could walk confidently into this so-called sunny and bright world.

“I’m fine. Thank you for your concern…”

“Senior, you’re crying.”

Upon hearing this, Qiu Shuang fell silent. She touched her face and indeed felt tears. Why was she crying? For the obsession in her heart or for the so-called bloody fear?

“Junior, I’m fine… I think I might just be a little too happy.”

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