Chapter 4

What’s so good about Xie Chuan? Many people have asked me this question.

Back then, Xie Chuan was just a poor boy that nobody paid attention to, while I was the so-called School Belle.

But I rejected all my suitors and insisted on chasing after him, that aloof flower.

He was the impoverished student in our class, insecure, quiet, and spent every day studying in silence.

Pale skin, tall and thin, always alone, never fitting in.

At that time, Jiang Cheng was my deskmate. Every day, besides stealing my snacks, he’d pull my hair, driving me crazy.

He was the kind of kid who’d tease cats and dogs since childhood-a little troublemaker.

We’d bicker from childhood all the way up, and when he couldn’t out-argue me, he’d threaten:

“Gu Xiaoqiao, just wait till I marry you someday. I’ll beat you up eight times a day.”

I’d retort furiously, “Even if every man in the world died out, I still wouldn’t marry you.”

After we started school, Jiang Cheng became the typical School Bully-didn’t like studying, often skipped class and got into fights. The teacher made him Class Monitor purely because everyone in the class was afraid of him.

I never understood why so many girls liked someone like Jiang Cheng. Maybe it was because Young and Dangerous and F4 were so popular back then.

But I liked watching Slam Dunk, liked the aloof Rukawa Kaede, and hated the noisy Sakuragi Hanamichi.

I loved watching the school’s evening glow, the crimson clouds spreading across the sky, golden light dusting everything, painting the whole playground with a touch of romance.

It was just an ordinary dusk after school. I was walking along the path by the playground, Jiang Cheng chattering endlessly beside me.

As I was yelling back at him, I turned my head by chance and saw Xie Chuan walking toward us, against the light, step by step.

The twilight cast shadows on him, and the cold, fragile aura of a young man washed over me, making me want to hug him for no reason.

That fleeting glance stunned my entire youth.

Jiang Cheng glanced at me speechlessly, “You like that kind of guy?”

“Mind your own business,” I didn’t admit it.

Back then, I loved secretly reading romance novels, always moved to tears. Jiang Cheng always made fun of me. I even naively wrote my own stories by hand, which Jiang Cheng accidentally found-he laughed so hard he couldn’t breathe. I was furious. How could there be someone as annoying as Jiang Cheng in the world?

Later, I told the teacher that Jiang Cheng talking in class distracted me, so I deliberately switched seats to sit with Xie Chuan.

I chased after Xie Chuan so openly that everyone knew.

But he always kept a cold face, rejecting me again and again.

He always ate the cheapest food alone in the cafeteria. I’d sit next to him and offer him my meal, but he wouldn’t take it.

I spent ages picking out gifts for him, but he wouldn’t accept them.

I tried to chat with him on purpose, but he wouldn’t even look up.

Many people said Xie Chuan didn’t know what was good for him, and of course, everyone also said Gu Qiao had no taste-of all the people to like, she liked a poor, penniless student.

After several failed attempts, I lost face and stopped bothering with Xie Chuan.

I secretly followed Jiang Cheng, climbed over the wall, skipped class, and went to an internet café outside school. He played games while I watched the latest idol drama beside him.

But for some reason, that day, Xie Chuan actually came to the internet café.

He just stood quietly behind me, face flushed, and asked, “Gu Qiao, can’t you just study properly?”

I glared at him angrily, “Who are you to me? What right do you have to care?”

Next to me, Jiang Cheng deliberately banged on the keyboard loudly, cursing his teammates.

Xie Chuan still stood behind me, his tone firm, “Gu Qiao, come back with me.”

I didn’t move, so he didn’t move.

He didn’t say much, but his temper was as stubborn as a rock.

In the end, I went with him.

That day, his face was red, fists clenched tightly, hesitating for a long time before he said to me:

“Gu Qiao, I’m different… I only have one way out-studying.”

I asked him, “Xie Chuan, do you like me?”

He blushed and stayed silent.

I said, if you won’t speak, then shake your head or nod.

“Xie Chuan, do you hate me?”

He shook his head.

“Then do you like me?”

He stayed silent, his face turning even redder.

I laughed proudly, “You’re admitting it.”

And then, he smiled too.

It was only later that I realized, sometimes, insecure people are afraid to love.