44. Accent

For the next two days, Bincheng experienced continuous rainfall, delaying the originally scheduled announcements until the weekend.

Chen Shuoyin slept until noon, woken up by Liu Yiran’s knocking on the door.

“I thought you weren’t here. I called you, but you didn’t pick up.” Liu Yiran changed into slippers at the door and walked in, muttering to herself. “Are you alone? Pei Yu isn’t here?”

Chen Shuoyin didn’t want to admit they had fought, so she brushed it off. “He went back.”

Liu Yiran nodded, unpacked the meal she brought, and pushed a portion in front of her. “You’ve been unwell this whole week because of filming this variety show—trouble adjusting, throwing up every night. He came over to take care of you every time.”

She observed Chen Shuoyin’s pale face and asked suspiciously, “I don’t think you’re fully recovered yet. And he just left?”

“I’m fine now, just sleep-deprived,” Chen Shuoyin deflected. “Anything new this month?”

“New?”

“Actually, now that you mention it…”

Liu Yiran set down her chopsticks. “The planner of this show is a broadcasting student who studied in the UK. He was busy before and had been working remotely. He finally showed up yesterday while you were filming. I talked to him for a bit. Turns out, his mentor used to visit my university for exchange programs. He always spoke proudly about one particular student. When this guy mentioned the name, I immediately made the connection.”

Chen Shuoyin, expecting some gossip, asked, “Who?”

“Fu Wencheng!” Liu Yiran gave her a knowing look. “He said he was your high school classmate!”

“Who did you say?”

Chen Shuoyin shot up from her seat, shocked.

Liu Yiran recalled his refined and gentle face. “Fu Wencheng. Just like his name, his personality is soft and polite. Pale and delicate—like a peeled bamboo shoot, haha.”

It had been years since she heard his name. And now, he had somehow ended up in the entertainment industry.

Memories rushed back like a flood.

Liu Yiran seemed amused. “So what was your relationship with him? Your class had an absurdly high concentration of good-looking people, huh? Pei Yu, you, and now Fu Wencheng.”

Chen Shuoyin admitted, “I had a crush on him back then.”

“Damn!” Liu Yiran suddenly had a realization. “Wait, does Pei Yu know? No wonder he went looking for Fu Wencheng yesterday while you were filming. You should’ve seen him—his glare was so sharp, like he was ready to kill someone.”

Chen Shuoyin slowly pieced together Pei Yu’s words from last night.

No wonder.

No wonder.

He was jealous?

No, no.

Ever since she first traveled three years into the future—two months ago—when she confessed to Pei Yu about her time travel, he never believed her. Instead, he always accused her of using it as an excuse, questioning if she was still hung up on someone.

Looking back, it seemed like he had always suspected Fu Wencheng was the one she couldn’t let go of.

What had she done in these past three years to make Pei Yu constantly think her changes were because of Fu Wencheng?

Just because she used to like him?

And he had the nerve to be mad when he was the one who shamelessly ruined her carefully planned confession to Fu Wencheng back then?

Thinking about Pei Yu and Fu Wencheng’s conflict, it all traced back to her.

She first met Fu Wencheng at the start of the second semester of senior year. With only a hundred or so days left before the college entrance exams, the study atmosphere was intense.

As a day student, Chen Shuoyin went home every night.

Her neighborhood, Sishui Alley, was only a ten-minute walk from Lingfeng No. 4 High School. Pei Yu used to walk her home under the excuse of visiting his grandmother. But after a while, that excuse stopped making sense. Seeing his growing impatience, she finally snapped at him, and maybe she hurt his pride because he stopped coming.

After that, she noticed a male student in the same school uniform frequently taking the same route home as her.

She had no interest in making friends, so she never greeted him.

Not long after the New Year, red lanterns still decorated the streets. One evening on her way home, a transformer suddenly sparked, and the entire street lost power.

Darkness swallowed the riverside, and panic spread through the neighborhood.

People rushed outside to investigate, waving flashlights and shining their phone lights everywhere. Some even turned on their car headlights, casting flickering beams of light through the chaos.

Chen Shuoyin sent a quick message to reassure her friend and then slowly navigated through the crowd.

There was no fire—someone guessed it was an internal circuit failure and had already called for repairs.

A group of concerned citizens set up barriers, blocking off several streets, including the one she needed to take home.

A security guard advised her to wait until the issue was resolved.

Checking her watch, she sighed and took a seat on the bench outside a closed shop.

A moment later, someone sat down beside her.

Glancing over, she saw the familiar face of her silent walking companion. The dim light traced the gentle contours of his features. His presence offered her a strange sense of comfort.

“Class One, Chen Shuoyin?” He spoke first.

“You know me?”

He smiled. “Your name is on the honors board, in the front row. Hard to miss.”

“And you?” She returned the courtesy.

“Class Seven, Fu Wencheng. I’m temporarily studying here from the international department. You probably haven’t seen me before.”

The international department was located in the suburbs, far from the main campus.

She understood—most students there were bound to go abroad.

After a few minutes of silence, Fu Wencheng asked directly, “I often see a guy walking you home. Is he your boyfriend?”

“Of course not.” Her rejection was quick and cold, like she wanted to distance herself from the assumption.

He chuckled. “Just curious, don’t mind me.”

Their conversation soon lost momentum, lapsing into a quiet stillness.

“Meow—”

A faint, pained cry of a cat broke the silence.

They exchanged a glance and instinctively moved toward the sound.

A kitten had its tail trapped between two walls. The exposed part of its tail showed a deep fracture, blood and fur sticking together.

The alley was narrow—only one person could squeeze in at a time.

Fu Wencheng pulled a small hammer from his bag and carefully chipped away at the wall, his voice soft as he coaxed the trembling kitten forward.

Just as he was making progress, a sudden police siren blared through the street, startling the cat back into the gap.

Chen Shuoyin leaned against the wall. “Want me to try?”

Fu Wencheng hesitated. “Can I borrow your uniform jacket?”

She handed it over without question.

Using the jacket, he gently wrapped the kitten and pulled it free.

Chen Shuoyin sighed in relief. “That’s great.”

“Sorry about your jacket. I’ll wash it and return it.” His polite demeanor made it hard to stay mad.

“It’s fine. I have a spare.”

From then on, they walked home together for a few days.

Then, one Friday afternoon, someone shouted in the classroom, “Chen Shuoyin, someone’s looking for you!”

Pei Yu woke up from his nap, frowning as he glanced toward the door.

Chen Shuoyin stepped outside and took a shopping bag from Fu Wencheng—it was her washed uniform.

They exchanged few words before he left.

Back inside, Pei Yu casually reached for her pen, then spotted the bag. “Why was your uniform with him?”

“Why do I have to tell you? How is it any of your business?”

“Are you secretly dating him?”

“Don’t make stuff up.”

“You’ve been walking home with him every night.”

“What’s wrong with that? We just happen to take the same route.”

“So you admit it?”

Their long-standing conflict had begun.

And from that day, Pei Yu’s obsession with interfering in her life only grew stronger.