Chapter Twelve: Has the Coward Changed?

This young man was named Lu Zhijun, and his character matched his name—upright, honest, and with impeccable roots. At the time, he pursued her, but his approach lacked novelty; he merely fetched hot water for her or queued to buy meals. She, meanwhile, was steeped in the novels of Eileen Chang, wholly absorbed in the pursuit of a soulmate, and paid little heed to Lu Zhijun, the earnest, bookish simpleton.

Later, only a few years after stepping into society upon graduation, she fell in love with Fan Chi, two years her junior and gifted in flattery.

What would have happened if she had not chosen Fan Chi, but instead been with Lu Zhijun?

Beside Lu Zhijun’s photograph was one of Lu Ming. Was it simply because they shared the same surname that they were placed together?

The more she reminisced, the more sorrowful she became. Even Youyou didn’t bother to look at the commendations printed beneath her own photograph. She adjusted the slipping bag on her shoulder and continued walking toward the dormitory.

“You’re back so soon? Not staying at the hospital a few more days?” Her three roommates reacted with surprising composure, as if yesterday’s incident—the jump from the building—had never occurred.

The calmer they appeared, the more unnatural it felt. Surely, they must know something.

Youyou hung her bag on the wardrobe handle, sat at her desk, and casually flipped through a few books.

“Oh wow, Youyou, you bought a new bag.” Before she could settle in, her impatient roommate Liu Xiaoi came over. “Is it genuine? The more I look at it, the more it seems like a high-quality knockoff.”

The other two, Wen Qingqing and Xiong Qian, also crowded behind her, vying to pick up her bag and examine it. “It’s the latest model, isn’t it? The replicas these days are so advanced—new styles come out one day and there’s a copy the next.”

Were all college girls this hostile nowadays? Thank goodness her daughter was in her senior year. If she were just starting as a freshman, having to spend four years with these three, who could imagine?

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Youyou glanced at the number, a smile appeared on her lips, and she answered, switching to speaker mode.

“Hello, is this Miss Lian? We’re customer service from Saint Laurent. We noticed you purchased a bag today at our Binhai City boutique and would like to follow up. Is now a convenient time for you?”

Youyou crossed her legs and finished the call calmly, then turned to the three who stared at her wide-eyed. “Why are you all crowding behind me?”

“Youyou, wasn’t that a scam call just now?” Wen Qingqing, though proven wrong, persisted stubbornly. “I get calls like that all the time. You’d better be careful not to get fooled by those scammers.”

“Thank you for the warning, but next time, please be more mindful about handling things without permission.” Youyou grabbed her bag, reclaiming it with a gentle force. “I don’t mind if you take my things—after all, we’re friends. But if you do that to others, they won’t be as polite as I am, wouldn’t you agree?”

She spoke with a smile throughout. No one strikes a smiling face, and the three could only muster awkward grins, their faces alternating between pale and flushed. “Yes, yes, we just thought your bag looked nice, so we picked it up to take a look.”

Watching Youyou turn back to her books, deeply engrossed, Liu Xiaoi, Wen Qingqing, and Xiong Qian were full of doubts. Was this really the same timid pushover they used to bully?

How could jumping from a building change her so completely?

Unable to torment her, they decided to isolate her as before.