chapter 1

chapter 1

Meng Fanyu and I shared an unspoken rule.

We were a couple only on campus.

The moment we left school for a holiday, we went home separately and stopped contacting each other. During those silences, he was the famous Young Master Meng of City A, while I was the utterly ordinary Chang Jinyue of City C.

No texts. No calls. No questions about where the other person was. We behaved as though we were both single.

I assumed our unusual arrangement would last until graduation, when we would break up as promised. Then came the summer after sophomore year, an exceptionally long vacation of eighty full days.

Before we left campus, Meng Fanyu asked, “Will you miss me?”

I wrapped my arms around him and said sweetly, “Mm-hmm. I’ll miss you very, very much.”

He pulled me into his arms and kissed the top of my head, but he did not say anything foolish like, “Call me whenever you miss me.”

That clearheaded restraint was one of the things I had always liked most about him.

He came from an exalted family. His future wife would inevitably be chosen from a family of equal standing. We both knew there was no future for us.

We were probably dating only because we wanted to experience a pure college romance, and I happened to be Meng Fanyu’s type.

At school, he was my boyfriend. Outside the gates, he became Young Master Meng, and he did not want me intruding on his life.

I respected his wishes, quietly played along, and never crossed the line.

It never occurred to me that Meng Fanyu would ultimately be the one to break the rule.

That summer stretched on too long. A month before the date we had agreed to return, he messaged to say he was going back to campus early.

Surprised, I teased him. “Why are you going back so soon? Do you miss me?”

He never replied.

After that, however, whenever a long vacation approached, he would ask, “Want to travel together?”

Most of the time, I happily said yes.

We visited many cities. We watched the stars in the desert and sunsets on distant islands. I tended to become absorbed in beautiful scenery, so his sudden kisses always caught me off guard.

He liked to cradle my face and bend over me to kiss me, an unmistakably possessive posture.

When things turned intimate, Meng Fanyu liked being in control. He liked making me surrender to him. Yet whenever we reached the brink, I would spoil the mood and tell him to stop.

Desire darkened his eyes. His Adam’s apple would work as he struggled for control, and he would raise one eyebrow in silent question before asking, “What’s wrong?”

My answer was always the same. “I don’t want to.”

No matter how fiercely he wanted me, no matter how sweat dampened his skin, the moment I said stop, he stopped. He would take a cold shower, then return and hold me while we slept.

After enough refusals, he seemed to understand at least part of what I was thinking. Whenever passion threatened to get out of hand, he would rise and head for the shower before I needed to say anything.

There was only one exception.

One day, he saw a message from a friend on my phone and asked, “Who’s this?”

I did not hide it. “A friend from City C.”

He said nothing at the time, but that night he became unusually forceful.

I resisted. He caught my wrist, pinned it against the headboard, and kept going. I turned my face away from his kiss and repeated, “Fanyu, I don’t want this.”

“Why not?” he asked. “Because of that friend in City C?”

For such a proud man, he was as impossible to soothe as a rabid dog when jealousy struck.

I had never said it aloud, but Meng Fanyu must have known why I refused to go all the way: I knew he would not be the man beside me at the end.

I did not want the bond between us to grow too deep.

Meng Fanyu was a gentleman. He understood and never forced me. But after that night, every time we became entangled, it was as if he were fighting an invisible rival. He would torment me until I could barely think.

By the second semester of junior year, the date of our promised breakup was drawing close.

The thought of ending our relationship filled me with reluctance. To spare myself future pain, I began preparing to let go early.

That year, Meng Fanyu planned a trip to England.

On our second day in Kent, while I was still sleeping off the jet lag, a group of people burst into our hotel room. They forced me into a wedding dress, gave me flawless bridal makeup, and escorted me to a carriage waiting outside.

I had no idea when Meng Fanyu had arranged it all.

We held a wedding at Canterbury Cathedral, officiated by a priest.

There were no guests. Only the two of us.

A wedding no one would recognize.

Not until we exchanged rings did I finally understand why, for once, he had asked me for a ring as his birthday gift that year. He had only wanted to make sure I would have one to give him at that moment.

The ceremony had no legal force. We both knew it.

But that night, as Meng Fanyu breathed heavily and prepared to retreat to another cold shower, I caught his hand.

I pushed him down onto the bed and kissed him hard.

His entire body shuddered. “Chang Jinyue,” he gasped.

“It’s our wedding night, Meng Fanyu,” I chided. “Don’t ruin the mood.”

It did not matter anymore. Whatever the future held, on that one day, I, Chang Jinyue, was Meng Fanyu’s bride.

I allowed myself this one indulgence.

I thought it would happen only once. It happened many times after that.

Once a principle is broken, it becomes harder to defend. One defeat follows another until there is nothing left to surrender.

Meng Fanyu and I had both lost control. Neither of us could stop.

I told myself it was simply a final, reckless countdown. At least I would leave with some wild memories after claiming Meng Fanyu as mine for a while.

I did not know when he would bring up the breakup. Our original agreement had been simple: date, never marry, and part ways after graduation. We had never specified a day.

I waited in torment, but he said nothing.

My flight back to City C was already booked. With no more time to delay, Meng Fanyu and I needed a proper farewell.

I asked him to meet me at a quiet restaurant near campus and told him I wanted to break up.

I had imagined his reaction. I thought he would accept it with his usual composure, then say goodbye with gentlemanly grace.

Instead, he watched me in silence and said, “No.”

I stared blankly. “No to what?”

His eyes held mine. “Chang Jinyue, I don’t want to break up.”