Chapter 5: So, It Was Always Him

The torrential rain came without warning, each drop striking the ground with a ferocity that sent up sprays of water, as if the heavens themselves were unleashing some pent-up emotion—forceful, relentless.

Students hurried to open their umbrellas, grumbling about the fickle, miserable weather. Yuwen Jian walked beside Ji Xian, holding an umbrella over him, sneering with disdain. “I get it now—Qiao Zhen is just playing hard to get! It’s honestly laughable.”

Another boy chimed in with a cold snort. “You think she can hold out? I bet she’ll come running back in less than a week, desperate for attention.”

“A week? I’m guessing two days at most,” someone else retorted.

Their laughter was soon drowned out by the pounding rain. The sky grew darker, low clouds smothering the earth.

Suddenly, Ji Xian stopped in his tracks, his face freezing in an instant. The boys followed his gaze.

In the distance, beneath a black umbrella, a boy and girl walked shoulder to shoulder, sharing gentle smiles—the unmistakable air of a couple in love. The rain cast a hazy veil over them, wrapping the scene in a dreamy ambiguity.

A closer look, and everyone’s eyes widened in disbelief.

Wasn’t that Qiao Zhen and Qin Yichi?

A heavy silence fell.

After a moment, Yuwen Jian narrowed his eyes. “Well, they’re really going all out with this act, aren’t they? Quite the elaborate scheme.”

“Exactly, Xian—don’t let yourself be fooled!”

Everyone knew Qiao Zhen was obedient, docile, and the easiest target. She had chased Ji Xian for years with nothing to show for it. Now, clearly, she’d resorted to petty tricks. They were all from privileged families—schemes like this were hardly novel.

Ji Xian stood motionless, his gaze frosty and remote, his expression darker than the storm overhead. After a brief pause, he turned away without a word, the others hastening to follow.

The rain intensified, pouring down in sheets, lashing the ground mercilessly.

Qiao Zhen’s dorm was far from the cafeteria, and in the opposite direction from Qin Yichi’s. Seeing she hadn’t brought an umbrella, Qin Yichi had offered to walk her back. Even with the umbrella, wind-driven rain drenched Qiao Zhen’s hair and clothes.

She pressed close to Qin Yichi, nearly glued to his side. Tilting her head, she glanced up at him under the umbrella, then quickly looked down again.

She stood at 164 centimeters, but Qin Yichi was a full 186. The disparity left most of the umbrella shielding him.

Suddenly, Qin Yichi extended his arm and spoke in a low, husky voice, “Hold onto me.”

Qiao Zhen faltered, looking up in confusion. “What?”

He repeated, serious, “Hold onto me.”

She nearly tripped. They were both in their adolescence—wasn’t this a bit much?

Yet Qin Yichi seemed utterly unfazed, drawling lazily, “The rain’s heavy. It’ll be easier to walk together this way. Don’t girls always do this with each other?”

Qiao Zhen lowered her head, saying nothing, her mind in turmoil. Oh, you big dumb oaf—of course it’s something girls do together! When have boys and girls ever walked arm in arm like this?

Just then, Qin Yichi chuckled softly as if recalling something. “You used to cling to my arm and neck all the time, wouldn’t let go no matter what. You threatened to choke me, even said you’d peel my skin off. Have you forgotten?”

Qiao Zhen was speechless.

That was all when they were little. Why did he remember it so vividly?

Qiao Zhen looked up and, without warning, met Qin Yichi’s deep, luminous eyes. He had tilted his head just so, obsidian eyes glittering with fiery sparks—dangerous, captivating.

Perhaps she truly didn’t want to get soaked. She murmured a quiet assent, then, almost involuntarily, slipped her hand through his arm, pressing herself closer.

Now, their proximity was almost overwhelming. The scent of the boy enveloped her, subtle threads weaving around her senses.

She kept her head down, careful not to step in puddles, her arm stiff with unfamiliarity.

So close.

So very close.

She blinked, suddenly noticing the umbrella handle had tilted.

In fact, it was leaning toward her, shielding her from the rain.

Silently, she reached up to right it.

Moments later, the big umbrella drifted back in her direction.

...?

As she reached to adjust it a second time, Qin Yichi spoke. “What’s wrong?”

Her hand, still looped around his arm, stilled. She replied softly, “You’re holding the umbrella crooked—you’ll get wet.”

He shrugged off her concern. “As long as you’re dry.”

He paused, then added offhandedly, “I like the rain anyway.”

What?

Qiao Zhen wanted to protest, but a strange sense of déjà vu struck her.

A sharp pain shot through her head, her mind plunged into chaos, a buzzing filled her ears. Weakness swept over her and she collapsed into Qin Yichi’s arms.

Memories from a past life surged within her...

In that former life, on a gloomy night, Qiao Zhen finished her twenty-third birthday concert, waiting anxiously for Ji Xian’s birthday wishes. Her heart pounded as she opened their chat, only to feel as if she’d been plunged into ice.

“She’s back in the country. I have to go pick her up.”

The cold message stabbed into her, each word a fresh wound.

Her face went blank, eyes dull, a sourness gathering at her nose, her chest tightening painfully.

That “she” was the eldest daughter of the Yu family—Ji Xian’s childhood friend, bright and beautiful, his perfect match.

Even knowing he didn’t care for her, even understanding he was only seeking the Yu family’s partnership, Qiao Zhen’s eyes still reddened with tears.

Bitterness welled up, blurring her vision.

It was always her who reached out first.

Always her who held his hand, sent messages, asked him out, apologized, followed him, confessed...

Dating him felt no different from before.

Whenever she lost hope, Ji Xian would give her just enough—just a sliver—to keep her hanging on.

It was as if maybe, just maybe, he liked her a little.

But if he’d truly cared, he wouldn’t have let others mock or belittle her.

If he’d truly cared, he wouldn’t have disparaged her dreams and ambitions.

If he’d truly cared, he wouldn’t have subjected her to such long, cold silences...

Her breath came shallow, her steps heavy. After a long pause, she forced her numb fingers to move, typing: “You broke your promise again.”

Again. It had happened too many times to count.

A single buzz. Ji Xian’s reply flashed on the screen:

“Stop making a scene.”

Making a scene.

Of course, that was his response.

Ji Xian had never cared about her feelings.

Not once.

Over time, disappointment and resentment accumulated, drop by drop, until they became a river, a sea.

Ji Xian’s indifference, his mother’s disdain, his friends’ mockery, all those cold, lonely nights...

They extinguished every last spark of her passion.

A storm of emotion surged through Qiao Zhen, wild and uncontrollable. She clenched her fists, a bitter smile curving her lips.

“Let’s break up.”

From hope to disappointment.

From burning to ashes.

From love to exhaustion.

It all happened, little by little...

A peal of thunder rolled across the sky. Rain lashed her face—icy, merciless.

A red car surged forward, headlights glaring, almost upon her.

Qiao Zhen froze, pallor draining her face. Her throat was parched, her vision swimming, as if she were tumbling into an abyss.

Suddenly, someone seized her from behind, lifting her and sprinting forward, pressing her tight against his chest.

The red car roared past, missing them by inches.

Dizzy, enveloped in searing warmth, she looked up into a familiar face, so close.

She was stunned, voice trembling. “Qin... Yichi...”

In that moment, the world seemed to stand still, leaving just the two of them.

Qin Yichi’s face was taut, his arm firm around her waist. He took a deep breath, words caught on his tongue. After a long silence, he finally let go, his voice hoarse, “It’s been a long time.”

Qiao Zhen’s eyes brimmed with tears. “It has.”

Ever since she’d started dating Ji Xian, she’d lost touch with Qin Yichi. After graduation, they hadn’t seen each other at all.

She’d only seen news of Qin Yichi winning a motorcycle championship online.

Now, he picked up the black umbrella from the ground and held it over her, his gaze deep and restrained.

“I was passing by and thought I’d see your concert.”

Amid the storm, the umbrella always tilted toward her.

Qin Yichi hesitated, his throat dry, and offered her a quiet blessing by her ear.

In that instant, Qiao Zhen’s tightly held tears finally spilled over.

She had waited all day for Ji Xian’s birthday wishes, but he never came.

And yet, the one who hadn’t seen her for years, Qin Yichi, was the one to say:

“Happy birthday, Qiao Zhen.”

—

A sharp gasp escaped her.

The memory was clearer, more detailed than any dream before.

The dizziness faded, but a strange feeling lingered in her chest. The emotions from her past life rose, stinging her nose with grief. She looked up at Qin Yichi, eyes growing red, tears tumbling down like a string of pearls.

The Qin Yichi standing beside her now, still a college freshman, and the future champion she had watched from afar, seemed to merge into one.

After all, the one who always tilted his umbrella toward her had always been him...