I Heard That I am a HeartBreaker - Chapter 74

Qiu Shuang was truly at her wit’s end with this. She turned around, covering her ears and saying nothing. Seeing that even this approach failed, Qi Sijiao fell silent as well, staying quiet until dawn.

The next morning, when Qiu Shuang opened her eyes, she saw the quilt beside her already neatly folded. The other person was nowhere to be found. Her groggy mind hadn’t yet figured out what was happening when she heard the sound of laughter coming from the living room outside.

Laughter? In their home, laughter seemed to be something quite precious; when they were together, there was usually only an inexplicable silence. Rarely did anyone laugh.

When Qiu Shuang pushed open the bedroom door, she saw Qi Sijiao and her mother deep in a pleasant conversation.

She didn’t know where the other girl had learned the ability to “speak human to humans and ghost to ghosts,” but for now, the relationship between the two of them was very subtle. It was stuck at a strange boundary; Qiu Shuang felt that if she pushed just a little further, the other person might go crazy if they stayed away.

“Is Qiu Shuang awake? Your friend is truly both smart and sensible; she seems to understand almost everything. As expected, things are different once you go to university—you can make good friends…”

As soon as Qiu Shuang came out, she heard her mother say those words. She didn’t say anything, simply nodded, and temporarily went about her own business, leaving the space for the two of them to continue their performance.

Seeing her come out, Qi Sijiao was about to stand up, but seeing that Qiu Shuang didn’t come over at all, she said nothing. She simply smiled and continued chatting enthusiastically with Qiu Shuang’s mother. This was a rare and valuable opportunity to scout for intelligence.

Qiu Shuang didn’t have many thoughts on the matter and didn’t know what to say. It wouldn’t be right to kick the other girl out now, and her arrival served as a sort of “booster shot” for her mother.

After all, having gone through many terrible things, her mother was determined to view Qiu Shuang as a pitiful, helpless figure with no friends, someone who might even be bullied at school.

Regarding her mother’s constant state of anxiety, Qiu Shuang didn’t know what to say. She only thought that the concern had come too late; those things had already happened—they were in the past tense.

Her mother’s worry didn’t arise out of nowhere. Ever since “that incident” in junior high, Qiu Shuang had become reticent, and her efforts in her studies had waned. Her parents didn’t dare to have too many requirements or much hope.

They only hoped that Qiu Shuang could live a good life. Now that Qiu Shuang had “picked up” a spot at a prestigious university, they were happy, but they were even more worried about her social life.

Qiu Shuang’s memory drifted back to the past. During her high school years, she truly seemed unable to make friends. There were always the same few people, but to call them friends wasn’t quite right; they were just one person she hated and another who had ulterior motives.

The only person who could be considered a reliable friend was someone she couldn’t associate with too deeply for certain reasons. Qiu Shuang felt like a piece of driftwood floating on the sea, never knowing when a wave would knock her down, only holding onto a sliver of ethereal hope, dreaming that she would eventually be washed up on the beach.

As Qi Sijiao continued the conversation, her expression gradually turned a bit sour. This was different from what she had imagined. She had always thought that someone as beautiful and academically excellent as Qiu Shuang would have been a “star” in high school—not necessarily some silly “school beauty,” but at least someone others would look up to with aspiration.

Why was the information she gathered here so different from her guesses? It didn’t make sense at all. In a flash of realization, Qi Sijiao remembered those two crucial people.

“Auntie, do you have any photos of Senior from high school? She used to mention them but was too embarrassed to show me. Let me have a look; just one look is fine.”

“Xiao Qi, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Let me find them for you. Sigh, to tell you the truth, Shuangshuang didn’t exactly have no friends back then. Two little girls used to come over occasionally, but later they stopped coming altogether. She didn’t mention it much; I suppose they had a falling out. You young people’s affairs are for you to decide yourselves; I don’t understand much of it.”

As Qiu Shuang’s mother spoke, she reached into the cabinet of the coffee table, pulled out a photo album, and handed it to Qi Sijiao.

When Qi Sijiao opened it, her expression became even harder to read. Qiu Shuang in the photos was as beautiful as ever, but she looked visibly unhappy. Flipping from beginning to end, Qi Sijiao discovered that in dozens of group photos, Qiu Shuang never once smiled.

So, what happened? Why was she sad? She said she liked Chen Wanjun, but clearly, she wasn’t that happy even when standing next to her. What was the truth?

Qi Sijiao didn’t understand, and perhaps she would never get an answer from Qiu Shuang herself. Thus, she could only continue probing. Seeing how curious Qi Sijiao was, Qiu Shuang’s mother also found it a bit strange.

“This pretty little girl? Xiao Chen? You actually know her too? Ah, she seems to have gotten into the same university as Shuangshuang, but their relationship probably isn’t that good anymore. Shuangshuang doesn’t talk about her at all.”

Hearing this, Qi Sijiao nodded quickly, thinking to herself: Exactly, the relationship is bad. That fake person should stay as far away from Senior as possible.

“Ah, Senior Chen is in the same major as Senior. I saw them talking before, but they seemed to have another argument. Senior isn’t willing to mention it either, and I wanted to know what happened so I could help…”

“Her? A very pretty girl. Her family—sigh, let’s not mention that, it’s not good to say. She was very smart, quick-witted. They used to have a pretty good relationship, and she was quite willing to come to our house to play with Shuangshuang. I don’t know why she stopped coming later.”

Qiu Shuang’s mother sighed with some emotion. She felt she was getting old and couldn’t keep up with the times of the youth. She didn’t understand why a perfectly good friendship between young girls would inexplicably break apart.

She understood even less why, if the change in environment had severed the old connection, their relationship would become even worse now that they had gotten into the same university and the same major.

When she asked her daughter, all she got was a “don’t talk about it anymore.” It seemed she wouldn’t get answers from others either.

“Auntie, what about Song Ya? Senior Song Ya always comes to our school to find Senior. They seem to have a pretty good relationship.”

Whether it was Qi Sijiao’s imagination or not, when she mentioned Song Ya, she saw a flash of annoyance cross the mother’s face, which was quickly replaced by a kind smile.

“That girl… her family is certainly wealthy. Yes, she does have a good relationship with our Shuangshuang. Sigh, but you know, everything should be a ‘match in social status.’ Whether it’s love or friendship, I suppose. Their family’s threshold is too high; our Shuangshuang doesn’t count for much in their eyes.”

Qi Sijiao felt like she had finally touched upon something. The Chen Wanjun who had mysteriously lost contact, and the Song Ya who wasn’t accepted by the mother.

The two of them must have been the fuses, or perhaps because of these two people, many bad things had happened to Qiu Shuang.

Qi Sijiao tried her best not to think of the worst-case scenario. She wanted everything to be beautiful, because if things were truly as she suspected, the whole situation was far too terrifying.

Qi Sijiao couldn’t imagine how Senior had spent those three years caught between the two of them, nor did she know where that strange academic state had come from.

She had seen the report cards. Why was she clearly number one, only to drop down quickly after starting school, and then suddenly climb back up in the final month? Was it intentional, or caused by external factors?

Seeing Qi Sijiao’s curiosity about the report cards, Qiu Shuang’s mother offered an explanation.

“We don’t understand any of it. Anyway, everything was left up to Shuangshuang herself. If she wanted to study, she studied; if she didn’t, she didn’t. You young people have something called ‘score controlling’ or whatever—I don’t really get it. Sigh, in the end, we were just happy she could get into this university.”

“Score controlling?”

Hearing this, Qi Sijiao was instantly confused. She didn’t understand. Although she knew such a practice existed, she couldn’t comprehend why someone wouldn’t want to be number one. Was it that someone didn’t want Qiu Shuang to be first, or was someone forcing her?

Chen Wanjun? Song Ya? Lu Chen?

Which one of those three? Qi Sijiao began to think. Chen Wanjun was a suspect, as she might have wanted to snatch the title of top student. Song Ya was an even bigger suspect, as she had mental issues to begin with. Lu Chen was the least likely, but couldn’t be ruled out, as Qi Sijiao had never seen through him.

“Yes, exactly. We didn’t understand why her grades would suddenly jump up, but before that, no matter the difficulty of the exam, it seemed her score was always fixed. That’s probably what you young people call score controlling. I don’t understand it; as long as Shuangshuang is happy, it’s fine.”

Qi Sijiao nodded with a smile and continued with polite small talk until Qiu Shuang came out again and sat beside her, ending the conversation.

Qi Sijiao could feel that as soon as Senior sat down, the auntie in front of her instantly became tense. Her expression even showed a hint of ingratiation.

Before she could grasp the tail of that strange thought, she felt Qiu Shuang pat her shoulder.

“Let’s go. We’re going out.”

Naturally, Qi Sijiao couldn’t refuse. So, the two of them walked outside. It was near the New Year, and the snow outside was very thick.

Qi Sijiao still couldn’t adapt to the northern temperatures and felt quite cold. After looking at her, Qiu Shuang said nothing, but took off her own scarf and wrapped it around Qi Sijiao’s head.

Qi Sijiao fell silent at Qiu Shuang’s inexplicable kindness. She thought that perhaps she would never truly understand the other woman.

“Senior, aren’t you cold?”

After the scarf was put on, Qi Sijiao looked at the other girl’s exposed ears, which were turning red from the frost, and asked in confusion. She didn’t understand why she was doing this—clearly, she didn’t like her that much, so why give her the scarf?

“It’s fine. I’ve been like this since I was little, I’m used to it. You, on the other hand, are a Southerner; you probably can’t stand it.”

Qiu Shuang pulled her hat back on, blocking the wind. She decided to take the other girl to a warmer place before talking about her own matters.

She hoped the other girl would stop digging, stop searching. It had nothing to do with Qiu Shuang’s so-called “sensitive self-esteem” or “fragile past.” She was afraid the other girl would disrupt everything she had prepared.

Too many uncontrollable variables had already appeared in this chess game. If Qi Sijiao intervened further, Qiu Shuang would have to re-evaluate and adjust everything all over again.

“Qi Sijiao, there are some things you shouldn’t ask about, shouldn’t look at, and shouldn’t go searching for. That won’t bring you any good results. It will only turn everything that was already ‘completed’ into a mess. What’s past is past. Never open it, and never look back at it.”

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