Qin Yichi: Past Life Unrequited Love (4)

The college entrance examination had ended.

Qin Yichi had successfully gotten into the same university as Qiao Zhen. When he saw that she had received the same admission letter, the massive weight in his heart finally settled. He was going to the same school as her again. They had been studying together since elementary school and had walked the path from school to home together countless times. How could this be anything but destiny?

However, university life was very different from primary and secondary school. The campus was simply too vast, and since they were in different departments, they rarely crossed paths. A month into the semester, Qin Yichi had not caught a single glimpse of Qiao Zhen; he was surrounded by nothing but strange, new faces. He could no longer have breakfast with her or walk home with her like before. He could no longer use the excuse of going to the restroom to pass by her classroom just to steal a glance at her. In the vast sea of people, he truly felt he had lost her.

—

Qin Yichi often checked his chat history. The only pinned conversation had not shown a red notification dot for a long time. They hadn't chatted in ages; the last time was when they bought their high-speed rail tickets to campus. They used to send dozens of messages a day, but now, not a single one had been exchanged in dozens of days. He didn't even know what he should talk to her about. Invisibly, the distance between them seemed to be growing wider.

—

There were several new restaurants in the cafeteria at noon. Qin Yichi ordered a bowl of beef bibimbap and sat at an empty table. His roommate, Niu Yifeng, sat across from him with a cheeky grin. "Bro, we don't have classes this afternoon. You promised to carry me to the Ace rank!"

Qin Yichi gave a lazy grunt and picked up a piece of meat. The next second, he froze. Qiao Zhen was sitting at a table diagonally across from him. She was eating with Ji Xian and his group, her movements cautious and restrained, remaining silent the entire time. She looked neither comfortable nor happy. Just as she lifted her head and her gaze was about to sweep over him, Qin Yichi immediately lowered his head. Within the noisy cafeteria, Niu Yifeng’s constant chatter hummed in his ears, but he couldn't hear a word. He had lost all appetite.

—

The second time he saw her was half a month later. Qin Yichi witnessed Qiao Zhen holding a gift box, her face full of anticipation as she shoved it into Ji Xian’s arms. Ji Xian rejected gifts from every other girl, yet he accepted hers, his expression remaining indifferent. He enjoyed it all with a sense of entitlement, always maintaining an aloof, superior attitude.

Qin Yichi lowered his gaze, his chest feeling as if it were blocked by a sponge soaked in water—stifling and painful. A light drizzle began to fall from the sky. As he opened his umbrella, he felt as if his heart had been thoroughly drenched by the dense mist of rain. He couldn't describe the feeling.

Beijing University dormitories were divided into different zones, and the male and female dorms were kept quite far apart. Qiao Zhen walked along a stone path with her roommates. Qin Yichi stood quietly in place, watching her silhouette grow smaller and smaller until it vanished, only then lifting his feet to walk onto the bridge. He held his umbrella, walking just behind Ji Xian’s group, and heard them say:

"What did you say? Qiao Zhen's birthday gift for Young Master Ji is a scarf, hand-knitted?" The tone was disdainful and disgusted. "Haha, who gives scarves these days? How tacky..."

Ji Xian, standing in the center, remained silent throughout.

Qin Yichi stood stunned, as if nailed to the spot. His fingers, gripping the umbrella handle, tightened until the veins on his arm bulged. In his mind, he involuntarily pictured Qiao Zhen knitting with intense focus, and his heart gave a sharp, sudden throb. The raindrops falling from the sky felt like countless silver needles, piercing him in his wretched state.

—

Qin Yichi would occasionally run into Qiao Zhen on campus. But every time, she was by Ji Xian’s side, her eyes always shining bright. She smiled so brilliantly and radiantly, while he remained cold and expressionless.

Later on, Qin Yichi saw Qiao Zhen crouching in a corner alone, her head buried in her knees. At that moment, the seed in Qin Yichi’s heart continued to grow, sprouting into sharp thorns that dug deep into his flesh, never to be pulled out. He was maddened by jealousy. Countless times, he wanted to rush over, grab Qiao Zhen back, press her tightly into his arms, and threaten her not to like Ji Xian—not to like anyone else.

But—he had no right, no standing to do so.

Qin Yichi clenched his fingers, then let them go powerlessly, his eyes inexplicably stinging. He sighed and closed his eyes. *You silly childhood sweetheart, offering your heart so foolishly, and look at how they think of you... Even if you had to like someone else, even if it were some ordinary boy, why did it have to be Ji Xian? He isn't good to you. The people around him aren't good to you. They are all bullying you.*

—

On his birthday, Qin Yichi finally received a message from the pinned contact.

Qiao Zhen: [Happy Birthday!]

He didn't know why, but even though she had sent a message, he couldn't bring himself to be happy. This wish was no different from one sent by a casual classmate. It seemed they could never return to the days of intimacy from their childhood. Qin Yichi lowered his eyes and placed his diary about Qiao Zhen at the very bottom of his drawer. He was still waiting in a long, drawn-out silence. Even if he never got an answer for the rest of his life.

That evening, he made two wishes while blowing out his candles: *I hope Qiao Zhen can be happy and fulfilled. I hope Qiao Zhen will never drift away from me again.*

—

Qin Yichi began to use training to numb himself, practicing racing relentlessly, hoping that when he reached the peak, Qiao Zhen would be able to see him. However, this path was not easy. He had talent, but his opponents were talented as well. What was needed more was hard work, sufficient conviction, and courage.

During one race, he was leaning into a turn as usual, but the racer next to him took the turn too low and lost control, crashing straight into him.

With a deafening "boom," all he could hear was the screeching friction of tires against the track, sparks flying everywhere. After tumbling countless times, Qin Yichi was flung off the track. He watched helplessly as a dozen cars sped past toward the finish line. He paused, as if falling into an abyss, and closed his eyes in despair. He had been so close in this crucial race.

—

Winter passed and spring arrived. Qiao Zhen and Ji Xian were together. When he learned of this, Qin Yichi was eating an orange. He froze, his expression suddenly dazed. The orange in his mouth was far too sour; the astringency permeated every one of his cells, and a bitter taste churned violently in his chest. His throat felt blocked by something. It was stifling, suffocating—these negative emotions were impossible to suppress.

—

Qin Yichi used to hope he could run into Qiao Zhen on campus, to catch one more glimpse of her. But now, he didn't want to. Because he would always see Qiao Zhen taking the initiative to hold Ji Xian’s hand. Surrounded by camphor trees with their swaying leaves and dappled sunlight, the man and woman walked shoulder to shoulder across the campus, the scenery around them reduced to a mere backdrop.

It wasn't until their figures disappeared from his line of sight that Qin Yichi slowly came back to his senses. The sourness felt like a poisonous snake, tightly coiled around his heart, occasionally biting into it and drawing blood, the pain nearly driving him insane. It was the height of summer, yet he felt as if he had fallen into an ice cellar, shivering with a bone-deep chill.

—

As the person who understood Qiao Zhen best, Qin Yichi knew exactly how much she loved Ji Xian. A young girl’s love was precious and pure, with her whole heart and eyes fixed on someone else. Yet that person seemed not to care for her sincerity or her feelings. Another year passed, and the smile on her face gradually faded, replaced by a hint of disappointment in her eyes.

—

Qin Yichi often had nightmares. He dreamt that he was at a luxurious wedding. Under the brilliant lights, the bride wore an exquisite white gown, and the groom wore an expensive black suit. Amidst the gazes of the crowd, they exchanged rings and looked into each other's eyes with deep affection. It was Qiao Zhen and Ji Xian.

Qin Yichi stood stunned, his brain crashing, unable to process the scene. It wasn't until Qiao Zhen changed into a gold-colored dress for the toasts and walked up to him that he finally stood up. Qin Yichi lifted his glass, his throat bobbing, words caught on his tongue. After a long silence, he said with a dry, raspy voice, "Happy wedding."

Qiao Zhen paused, blinking her eyes in confusion, looking at him as if he were a complete stranger, her tone polite: "Excuse me, sir, who are you...?"

As she spoke, Qin Yichi’s heart was pierced with sudden pain. He gripped his fingers tightly, his voice hoarse and weary: "Qiao Zhen, I am Qin Yichi. Don't you remember me?"

The other party thought for a moment, then shook her head gently.

In an instant, all the strength in Qin Yichi’s body drained away, and the taut string in his mind snapped. She really didn't remember him.

...

*Bang!*

A dull thud echoed in the dormitory, as if a heavy object had hit the floor, the harsh sound reverberating in the air and piercing the endless night.

Qin Yichi jolted awake, his eyes snapping open. His forehead was covered in a thin layer of sweat, and his heartbeat echoed in his chest like the beating of a drum. He quickly checked the phone by his pillow.

3:42 AM.

Everything around him was pitch black, quiet enough to be terrifying, with only the sound of his heavy breathing and his racing heart. Qin Yichi closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

*Thank goodness, thank goodness it was just a dream.*

But his right hand was still trembling uncontrollably...