“Oh my god! Who even is Qian Wei? If I were her I think I’d pass out from happiness! Did she save the galaxy in a past life?”
“Lu Xun is so handsome! So handsome! I thought once I found out he had a girlfriend I’d lose interest, but somehow having a girlfriend makes him even hotter?? I only used to go for single guys!! But now I’m completely a fan!! I hope he and his girlfriend last forever! That was so sweet!”
“Great, just great, now my standards for finding a boyfriend just got raised even higher… I’m probably never getting married…”
“I thought Lu Xun didn’t care about anyone, seemed so aloof, figured he’d be single his whole time in college—I even made a bet with my friend about it. Guess I lost big time! Turns out not only is he dating someone, he announced it in the most public way possible!”
Many of the girls in the gymnasium had no idea who Qian Wei even was; all Qian Wei could hear around her was a wave of envious sighs and chatter.
Up on stage, the man who’d started it all still wore that same composed, detached expression. Amid the roar of voices and countless eyes on him, he walked off with light, steady steps, putting an unforgettable capstone on the anniversary opening ceremony.
“Qian Wei, looks like Lu Xun just got stopped by the Ice Queen. Look over there.” Liu Shiyun pointed. “Doing something like that at the school anniversary—the Ice Queen’s definitely going to give him hell for it…” Liu Shiyun trailed off, then turned around. “Huh? Qian Wei? Where’d you go?”
She hadn’t needed Liu Shiyun to point it out—Qian Wei had kept her eyes locked on Lu Xun ever since he stepped off stage, watching as he was intercepted by the law school department head, nicknamed “the Ice Queen” by students. Without even thinking, she’d already gotten up and started running in the direction Lu Xun had gone.
Unfortunately, there was quite a distance between the audience seating and the stage area, and Qian Wei couldn’t catch up to Lu Xun in time—all she saw was his back as he was led off to the administrative office set up inside the gymnasium.
“Lu Xun, what you just did has truly disappointed me!”
Before Qian Wei had even gotten close, she could already hear the department head’s furious voice. The woman’s voice had always been sharp, and the makeshift administrative office backstage in the gymnasium was tucked away, made quieter still by the faint sound of the anniversary performance music in the background—which meant the words carried almost word-for-word to Qian Wei’s ears.
“The investigative committee is still looking into Qian Wei’s matter—right and wrong hasn’t been determined yet. By announcing your conclusion in front of everyone like this, you’ve essentially pointed the finger squarely at Liang Qing. Have you even considered what happens if Liang Qing turns out to have been wronged?”
“Professor Li, if I hadn’t spoken up, how much longer would it have taken for the investigative committee to release its findings? I’ve asked the school for a fair resolution before, I even suggested checking the security footage at the fourth-floor stairwell landing—it’s been two days since I made that suggestion, and the school still hasn’t reviewed the footage that could prove Qian Wei’s innocence. You’re worried about the possibility of wronging Liang Qing—but have you thought about Qian Wei at all? As long as the investigation results aren’t announced, Qian Wei has to keep wearing the label of ‘thief’ every single day. And given how evasive this committee has been about the whole thing, I suspect in the end they’re just going to ‘handle it internally’ and never make the findings public.”
The department head was clearly at a loss for words, but she wasn’t willing to back down either. After a pause, she continued, “Handling this properly takes time, of course. As for whether it gets resolved internally—that’s about finding a solution that works for everyone. If Qian Wei really is innocent, we’ll clear her name internally too…”
“Justice delayed is justice denied—that’s something every one of us in law understands. Something that could be fully cleared up right now, why drag it out for weeks or months? During those weeks or months, doesn’t Qian Wei still carry the label of ‘suspect’? If it turns out she did nothing wrong, will the school issue a public apology to her? I believe you know perfectly well, Professor Li, whether or not Qian Wei actually did anything wrong. Her reputation has already been damaged, and instead of clearing it publicly, you’d rather handle it quietly behind closed doors—I suspect that’s because Liang Qing’s father happens to be one of the university’s trustees.”
Every word out of Lu Xun’s mouth was crisp and deliberate, leaving the department head no room to save face. He was still only nineteen, yet his tone carried an authority and sharpness that didn’t waver even in front of an adult well into her forties. Qian Wei stood outside the office door, biting down hard on her lip, listening to the storm of argument unfolding in that small room.
Qian Wei had never once seen anyone win an argument against Lu Xun.
The department head seemed to realize this too, and finally shifted tactics.
“Lu Xun, you’re still young, and you’re still too sharp-edged. You don’t yet understand that handling many things requires considering all sorts of angles, balancing many different relationships—it’s all very intricate, involving different departments, different colleges, and plenty of things you haven’t even thought of. I know that as a law student, fairness and justice are your beliefs, and I know your dream after graduation is to become a judge. I’m quite a bit older than you, so let me offer you some advice—as a judge, you’ll encounter many cases that will make you furious, that you’ll find intolerable. But in the face of those cases, you must exercise tremendous restraint, you must remain calm and rational. You can’t be this hot-blooded and impulsive, because that’s not professional. A judge must maintain sufficient neutrality and fairness, even when facing the most heinous of murderers—you have to set aside your personal feelings and judge from a cold, even somewhat detached, legal standpoint…”
“I don’t want to be a judge anymore.”
“What?”
Not just the department head—even Qian Wei, standing outside the door, was stunned.
“If being a judge means I have to set aside my personal feelings, has to be coldly impartial—I can’t do that.” Lu Xun’s voice was cold, but utterly resolute. “If that’s what fate demands of a judge, I’d rather not have it.”
“But wasn’t becoming a judge the firm dream that led you to choose law school in the first place?”
“If it means I can’t argue for the people I love, then I’d rather not have that dream at all.” Lu Xun’s tone was hard, unyielding. “I think being a lawyer suits me better. A judge can’t choose their cases, but a lawyer can—a lawyer always has the right to choose who they defend.”
Those words left the department head so furious she could barely get her breath steady. “You might feel very manly right now, making a decision like this for love, but I’ve seen plenty of boys your age—swept up by love, and once they calm down, they realize how naive and regrettable it was to change their dream over romance. You’re a promising talent—don’t pick love and lose your career. A judge holds far more social standing than a lawyer, and the future connections you’d build would be leagues beyond anything a lawyer could hope for. And frankly, given your personality, you might not even be suited to being a lawyer—after all, being a lawyer essentially means being in a service industry, on the receiving end of client demands…”
“To me, love and my dreams have always mattered equally.” Lu Xun smiled, his tone confident to the point of arrogance. “I want my career. I want love too. For me, Lu Xun, there’s no such thing as choosing love and losing my career. Whatever path I choose, I have full confidence I’ll excel at it to the utmost. Even if I end up serving clients, I’ll be the most formidable one out there.”
“Come on, come on, let’s get ready to go on stage.”
“Next up is our group choir performance—everyone line up in the order from rehearsal.”
Just as the conversation in the office seemed to be wrapping up, five or six girls in stage makeup and costumes came clattering down from the end of the hallway, apparently heading toward the backstage area from here. Their chattering instantly drowned out everything else. Their costumes all had a pair of wings, and with several of them crowding the hallway together, it got a bit congested. Seeing that she was blocking their path, and that they seemed to be rushing to get to the stage in a hurry, Qian Wei quickly ducked into a nearby restroom to clear the way.
But by the time she came back out, both the department head and Lu Xun were gone from the office.
Feeling rather conflicted, Qian Wei wandered aimlessly through the gymnasium. A sudden, intense curiosity struck her—if in this life, she was the reason and the turning point that made Lu Xun give up becoming a judge in favor of being a lawyer, then what about her past life? What had made Lu Xun abandon his original reason for choosing law school back then? Being a judge had once been his dream.
A tangle of scattered details knotted together in Qian Wei’s mind like a ball of yarn she couldn’t unravel. Why had she been reborn at all? Why had fate chosen her? Was there some hidden meaning fate was trying to tell her? Why was it that in this second chance at life, some things had changed so easily, while others, no matter how hard she tried, seemed locked into their original course as if by some unshakable destiny?
“Qian Wei!”
Just as Qian Wei was lost in these tangled thoughts, Lu Xun’s low, pleasant voice cut through them.
Qian Wei looked up and saw Lu Xun walking toward her. This time, without a word, she rushed straight at him, throwing herself into his arms, holding him tightly. She buried her face against his chest, and in that moment, all the noise around them seemed to disappear. She could hear, clearly, the warm beat of his heart.
Lu Xun seemed caught off guard by her reaction. He froze for a moment before reaching out to stroke her hair. “What’s wrong?”
“Lu Xun, thank you. Thank you for going this far for me.” Qian Wei’s voice caught slightly. “Because of me, you must have offended a lot of people.”
Lu Xun looked away, denying it with feigned nonchalance. “It’s nothing. That part of the speech had already been discussed with the school beforehand—the faculty approved it. The department head pulled me aside earlier just to talk about your situation. The department had actually been planning to release their findings, but since I already cleared your name publicly at the ceremony, the school’s decided to just handle the rest internally—doesn’t want to blow things up further. Kind of a second chance for Liang Qing, in a way.”
None of that was actually true, but Lu Xun lied through his teeth with a completely straight face, just so Qian Wei wouldn’t feel guilty.
“And besides, didn’t you say before that you don’t feel secure with me—that you’re always worried I’ll fall for someone else the next moment?” Lu Xun’s voice dropped low as he leaned close to her ear. “How about now? Does this help?”
Qian Wei let out a helpless laugh. “I only pretended to be Mo Tao’s girlfriend for a few days and ended up with Liang Qing on my case. Going public like this—were you worried I wasn’t getting enough hate already?”
“I’m not him.” Lu Xun’s tone carried a note of disdain. “I, Lu Xun, would never let my girlfriend get attacked and retaliated against by someone else. That’s not something that happens to me.” He cleared his throat. “So, even if you’re picking a fake boyfriend or a scandal boyfriend, you shouldn’t pick someone like him.”
He left the rest unsaid, but his expression practically had a banner hanging across it reading, “Even for a scandal boyfriend or fake boyfriend, you should pick someone like me.”
Even though he’d only been her fake boyfriend for a few days, every time Lu Xun brought up Mo Tao, there was always a faint, roundabout note of jealousy and displeasure in his words.
With Lu Xun’s high-profile confession now a matter of public record, if Qian Wei went back to sit with him in the audience, it would draw far too much attention. So naturally, they skipped the rest of the anniversary performance, walking hand in hand outside the gymnasium instead.
“Qian Wei!”
Unfortunately, before long, Qian Chuan’s noisy voice shattered their private moment.
“Finally found you!” Qian Chuan sounded rather worked up. “Why didn’t you tell me about any of this? How could anyone in the Qian family let themselves get bullied like that? If Brother Xun hadn’t brought it up in his speech just now, I never would’ve known you’d been framed as a thief—that’s absolutely unacceptable! Thank god Brother Xun cleared your name. Turns out Mo Tao really is related to Mo Zixin, what bad luck! Not even fit to be your fake boyfriend! Doesn’t hold a candle to our Brother Xun!”
Liu Shiyun, standing behind Qian Chuan, rolled her eyes listening to him gush.
But before Qian Chuan could finish his flattery, an angry voice cut him off.
“I finally found you!”
Qian Wei turned toward the voice and saw, to her shock, Tang Lü storming toward them, absolutely furious. Tang Lü, who usually walked with brisk, confident strides, was now limping and moving awkwardly.
Once he got close enough, Qian Wei realized it wasn’t just his walk that was odd—his face was swollen and bruised, the bruising concentrated around both eye corners, making him look almost like a giant panda. His prized double eyelids had been reduced to thin slits from the swelling, and it was through those slits that he now struggled to glare furiously at Qian Chuan.
“I finally found you!” Tang Lü squinted through his swollen eyes, trying to make out Qian Chuan, gritting his teeth as he pointed at his own face. “You did this to my face—this isn’t over between us! I’m calling the police!”