I Heard That I am a HeartBreaker - Chapter 81

Qiu Shuang laughed after hearing Qi Sijiao’s answer. She rarely showed such a radiant smile; most of the time, she merely pursed her lips and offered a slight, polite tug at the corners of her mouth.

Such a brilliant, heartfelt smile was something Qi Sijiao had truly rarely seen. It was beautiful, so much so that it sent her heart into a flutter, yet it also sparked a trace of fear within her.

Qi Sijiao didn’t know why the other woman had suddenly burst into laughter for no apparent reason. Was she satisfied with the answer?

In this moment, the senior sister whom Qi Sijiao had seen many times before felt unrecognizable. Qiu Shuang was still smiling, but that smile seemed bottomless, carrying a faint, hidden hint of desolation.

Qi Sijiao vaguely sensed something. She felt as if she were about to pierce through that so-called beautiful shell and embrace the true person beneath.

But before that feeling could take hold, it was instantly extinguished. As if the preceding moment had never happened, Qiu Shuang returned to her usual calm self.

“Thank you.”

Qiu Shuang looked up and spoke those words frankly. Qi Sijiao gazed at her; light reflected off the side of the woman’s face, and paired with the casual side-ponytail she had just pulled together, there was a dreamlike quality to her—as if she might vanish or become untouchable in the next second.

The thought of never being able to reach her filled Qi Sijiao with intense dread.

What could she actually hold in her hand? It seemed only the other’s body was tangible, for she could not seem to reach her soul. Qi Sijiao reached out and grabbed Qiu Shuang’s hand.

Qiu Shuang did not resist, nor did she brush the hand away. She simply looked back with an empty gaze. The brief flash of fragility and the posture that craved an embrace had vanished like a dream.

Only Qi Sijiao’s own uncontrollable impulse remained as evidence that it had happened at all.

“I don’t need you to thank me, Senior.”

The word Qi Sijiao hated most was “thank you.” The beginning of all human relationships seemed to carry a degree of indebtedness, but once “thank you” and “forgiveness” were uttered, a period was placed at the end of the sentence. Everything reached a sort of completion, and from there, nothing would ever move forward again.

Qi Sijiao didn’t want completion. Whether it was love or hate, she wanted it to last forever, all the way to the very end.

Qiu Shuang was beautiful, of course, from every angle. This posture was even more enchanting. Even though she had reverted to her icy expression, she still held a fatal attraction for Qi Sijiao. Qi Sijiao already possessed an intense physiological obsession with her, let alone now.

Human features don’t typically have significant differences—two eyes, a nose, a mouth—but different proportions and a perfectly placed touch of flair can create an entirely different impression.

In truth, Qiu Shuang’s appearance wasn’t exactly “pure.” Her heroic brows and eyes gave her a sharp edge, but her slightly melancholy eyes and the faint downward curve of her lips softened that aggressive beauty, imbuing it with a hazy sense of brokenness.

Birds of a feather flock together; there was some truth to that saying. Perhaps it was because of this strange sense of brokenness that she always attracted a crowd of inexplicable people.

Or perhaps, people always have mysterious fantasies about those who possess such a singular, fragile aura.

Qi Sijiao thought back to the scene when she first saw her. She thought she could forget it, but she couldn’t. Perhaps what she wanted was exactly this—one earth-shattering moment, a mad plunge into a clumsy love, regardless of whether there was a destination, just driving forward like a maniac.

She wondered: did everyone who saw Qiu Shuang become as crazed as her? Did they fantasize like her? Were they as shameless as she was?

Qi Sijiao knew she couldn’t find an answer, yet she used herself as the ultimate standard. She believed that no one could reject someone who appeared so pure.

Like pristine snow falling on the earth, there is always someone who cannot help but want to trample it, to soil it—as if only by doing so can they derive a strange sort of pleasure.

The fundamental base color of human nature remains the gene of the beast.

Qi Sijiao wondered if everyone who saw Qiu Shuang pondered what she was grieving for, or what she was thinking about.

And in those eyes, who would eventually be reflected? For whom would she forever be infatuated? It was an image that made one’s fantasies spiral out of control.

In reality, everyone carries a certain desire to destroy. Just as the masses react to a god stepping off a pedestal, many love such tropes; yet no one refuses the idea of a high-and-mighty person having eyes only for them.

Qi Sijiao felt she was seeing the person before her less and less clearly. Though she was close enough to touch her palm, the temperature radiating from her seemed as cold as her pale skin—unapproachable, unobservable.

Like a trap, Qiu Shuang enticed everyone to fall in, because they all fantasized about whether another world lay beneath that shell.

Whether passionate lava was hidden beneath the tundra.

Qi Sijiao believed there was, because a person’s core color cannot be changed. Based on her observations, Qiu Shuang was willing to help others to the best of her ability. Despite everything Qi Sijiao had done, Qiu Shuang gave her chance after chance.

At her core, Qiu Shuang was a tolerant and kind person.

“When people do wrong, they need to pay a price. When they do right, they should be thanked. That is the most basic principle.”

As Qiu Shuang replied, she used her hands to let down her pinned hair.

She sat there with her hair draped down, wearing her nightgown, quietly looking at the other girl. To be honest, Qiu Shuang felt she should be somewhat angry; after all, the other person had intruded into her private territory.

But after a few days, she seemed to have grown accustomed to it. After all, from beginning to end, Qiu Shuang had always been a person without a sense of belonging or a territory of her own.

Just as this room might be “hers,” it could also belong to the whole family at any time.

The only things that truly belonged to Qiu Shuang were her soul and her inner heart.

“Senior, I’ve really never seen you with this hairstyle. Why don’t you usually do it? It’s so beautiful.”

Qi Sijiao’s words were not just a probe, but also reflected a genuine lack of understanding. From her perspective, college girls generally focused on makeup and fashion.

Yet Qiu Shuang was always bare-faced, constantly dressed in a fixed athletic-casual style. Occasionally, she would have a more fashionable piece of clothing forced upon her by Song Ya, but as soon as Song Ya left, she would immediately change out of it.

It seemed that in Qiu Shuang’s world, the concept of “beauty” as an asset never existed.

Qi Sijiao didn’t view the world too cynically, but the fact was that in this society, beautiful people had smoother paths and could enjoy more benefits.

But according to her observations, Qiu Shuang was unwilling to accept these advantages and was even somewhat repelled by them.

“Is that so? ‘Beautiful’ doesn’t sound like a particularly good word, does it?”

Qiu Shuang looked at her. What did beauty mean? It meant a person’s features were good, but what was there to simple beauty?

Growing up, Qiu Shuang never understood why human emotions were so complicated, until now, when she finally grasped a fundamental truth.

Humans are the most basic and simple of creatures; they are greedy, they plunder, and they are jealous.

A so-called “legendary beauty” is invariably envied by all. The only way to escape this cycle is to make oneself mediocre, so that people can accept you.

People don’t like those who are too flamboyant, too conspicuous, or too outstanding; they hope everyone remains buried in the thick soil just like them.

All intelligence and achievement, once linked to beauty, become distorted.

Regardless of what you possess, once you possess beauty first, beauty will always stand in front of everything you acquire later, because it is considered “scarce.”

But scarce things do not bring grand prospects or kindness; they only bring more unprovoked malice.

Qiu Shuang hated that malice, those strange looks, and those bizarre, suffocating things.

Qi Sijiao didn’t understand after hearing Qiu Shuang’s words. She couldn’t comprehend why someone wouldn’t like being beautiful.

Even her own love at first sight was because of that beauty. If everyone became plain and unremarkable, would people be happy? Probably not.

Malice and kindness are perhaps balanced. For some, they would rather have a candy and a slap than a life of unremarkable waves.

“Why can’t you own it? Having an aesthetic sense and appreciating beautiful people is, in itself, a happy thing.”

“Is it? It seems I must be a relatively beautiful person then.”

Qiu Shuang let out a small laugh. This simple deception had trapped others for years. As she accepted more and more people, she realized the things contained within were devoid of provocation.

Everyone was surrounding her, treating themselves as hunters on a quest—it was quite pitiful.

Qiu Shuang never knew where people got the illusion that she was easily “conquerable”—as if with just a tiny bit of sincerity, she would run off with them.

“Yes, you are truly beautiful.”

Qi Sijiao didn’t use words of praise lightly. She had never imagined she would find herself at such a loss for words when faced with the object of her devotion.

But the person in front of her wasn’t afraid of anyone. No one’s sincerity could be seen or touched; it could only be searched for bit by bit through feeling. Qiu Shuang didn’t believe in the other’s so-called “crude love,” nor did she believe in true love, yet she ultimately chose to take the photo together.

“I’m sorry, but Senior, you have to understand people. Even though these emotions might carry other motives, they are ultimately meant for your own good.”

Qi Sijiao didn’t know what else to say. Could she really say, “Oh, sorry, it’s all your fault for being too beautiful, maybe you should just disfigure yourself?” That wouldn’t work.

That sounded too outrageous. Regarding Qiu Shuang’s strange string of suitors, Qi Sijiao didn’t know how to increase her own competitiveness either.

At the end of the day, she simply wasn’t outstanding enough. If she could reach a level of overwhelming advantage, then even if she chose to be difficult from the start, things wouldn’t have remained at this stalemate.

“I only know one simple truth: happiness is what’s real, sincerity is what’s most important, and you must never forget that you are important too.”

Support