Chapter 44: Harder to Control Than an AK

Ji Xian remained motionless, every word he uttered laced with icy chill, his tone heavy with warning and pressure. There was a certainty and confidence about him.

Back in high school, he had casually remarked, “You seem pretty close to that Qin Yichi.” The very next day, Qiao Zhen began to distance herself from Qin Yichi, afraid of being misunderstood by Ji Xian.

Someone like him—how could he truly be heartless enough to leave?

Given the choice, Ji Xian was a hundred percent sure Qiao Zhen would never leave with Qin Yichi. Yet now, Qiao Zhen stayed right beside Qin Yichi, not even hesitating in her stride.

With her back to him, she acted as though she hadn’t heard a thing, walking toward the stairwell, her figure growing smaller and smaller, as if she had indeed made up her mind.

Ji Xian was frozen in place, his expression suddenly shifting, panic rising swiftly in his heart. His hand at his side clenched tightly, his voice sharp and cold as shards of ice, raised in volume: “Qiao Zhen, come here!”

He tried, as always, to restrain himself, to maintain his perfect and dignified image, but his exquisite features twisted uncontrollably in frustration.

Outside, the rain fell harder and harder.

Qiao Zhen’s figure vanished completely into the curtain of rain.

The entire teaching building was empty and silent. Ji Xian stepped back, closing his eyes slowly, so quiet he could hear his own ragged breathing.

He didn’t know how long it was before he opened his eyes again, returning to that initial calm and unruffled demeanor.

It’s alright. It’s alright…

Qiao Zhen doesn’t like Qin Yichi; she only thinks of him as a brother.

Ji Xian kept repeating this to himself, over and over, brainwashing himself, growing ever more convinced—

Qiao Zhen was only trying to provoke him, deliberately seeking out her childhood friend to put on a show in front of him.

Yes, that must be it…

The sky was heavy and gray, the sound of rain falling blending with the dampness in the air, the pressure oppressive.

Qiao Zhen looked up at Qin Yichi and asked softly, “What did you want to talk about?”

It was Qin Yichi who had said he needed to see her, so she messaged him, suggesting they just have dinner together.

It was precisely because she knew Qin Yichi would come that she could speak to Ji Xian alone without worry, avoiding another confrontation with that crowd.

In the rain, Qin Yichi held a black umbrella, stuffing the bag he carried into her arms, lazily saying, “I came to give you something.”

Qiao Zhen looked into the bag, her clear eyes widening in surprise and delight. “How did you know I wanted this?”

Inside was her favorite snow maiden pastry, and a bunny plushie that had recently become incredibly popular.

She adored it, but it was so hard to get…

Her fingertips tingled as she gripped the bag, blinking in confusion. “Thank you, but why are you suddenly giving me these?”

Qin Yichi seemed to have expected her question, his tone languid: “Oh, I won them in a lottery. I’m a guy, I don’t really like this stuff.”

He paused, glancing toward the teaching building in the distance, and asked with feigned casualness, “I really liked the scarf you gave me… Have you given one to anyone else?”

Maybe it was her imagination, but Qiao Zhen felt his tone was a bit stiff, completely at odds with his usual nonchalant manner.

She looked at him.

He stood tall, handsome and resolute, shadows and light playing across his face, his jet-black hair shining with allure.

Around his neck was the deep gray scarf she’d given him, matching his temperament perfectly—mature and steady, yet with a hint of rebelliousness.

Qiao Zhen nodded honestly, “Yes, I’ve knitted one for my roommate too.”

She simply enjoyed crafting things. Every time she knitted a scarf or baked, she felt peaceful and at ease.

Qin Yichi remained silent.

The clouds had swallowed the last sunlight, oppressive and sinking low. Raindrops pounded on the umbrella with a dull, powerful sound.

After a few seconds, his voice grew a bit muffled. “Have you given one to any other guys?”

Qiao Zhen hadn’t expected the question. She shook her head obediently, her face full of sincerity. “No, just you.”

At her words, starlight seemed to ignite in Qin Yichi’s eyes, flickering and gentle, his gaze growing softer.

Qiao Zhen looked up with a puzzled expression, “What’s wrong?”

“…Oh, nothing. Just asking.”

Qin Yichi held the umbrella with one hand, his other tucked in his pocket, his tone light.

He pretended to be unaffected, lowering his head and trying desperately to suppress the upward curl of his lips.

Yet his smile was almost impossible to control, harder to hold back than AK. In the end, Qin Yichi buried the lower half of his face in the scarf, hiding his unconcealed emotions.

The sky was still raining.

But in his heart, the weather had cleared.

…

For dinner, they left campus. Qiao Zhen ordered egg fried rice and a glass of orange juice.

The shop was nearly empty; most students chose to take their meals to go. The owner quickly brought out steaming hot food, the aroma filling the air.

Qin Yichi handed her chopsticks and a spoon, removed his scarf while eating, and after a while, suddenly said:

“Do you want to go to a hot spring?”

Qiao Zhen: “?”

The sudden question caught her off guard. She blinked, staring wide-eyed, almost doubting her ears, nearly choking on her orange juice.

A hot spring?

She’d seen a few bloggers’ videos recently and casually mentioned she wanted to try a hot spring. She really did want to experience it, but if it was with Qin Yichi—wouldn’t that mean—

Her cheeks instantly flushed, her heart pounding wildly, so much so she forgot to chew her food.

She’d see his abs.

Thoughts of certain intimate scenes from her previous life flashed through her mind. Her fingers unconsciously tightened around her cup, distracted and slightly guilty, pink slowly creeping up her cheeks.

How had she become like this, with her head full of Adam’s apples and abs—she was really terrible…

Seeing her slow reaction, Qin Yichi’s eyes flickered with complex emotion. He put down his chopsticks, staring at her intently. “You don’t want to go?”

Qiao Zhen snapped back, lowering her head and strategically sipping orange juice, her sweet voice trembling slightly. “Is it a group activity with everyone?”

Like last time at the karaoke bar, with all his friends?

But in the next moment, Qin Yichi’s Adam’s apple bobbed, his deep, magnetic voice carrying an irresistible charm, softly lingering in Qiao Zhen’s ear, echoing in her mind:

“No one else.”

“Qiao Zhen, just you and me.”