The June sun blazed overhead, and outside the gymnasium windows, cicadas cried one after another from the trees. Qi Xi sat backstage near the podium, her heart a tangle of faint nervousness, a daze, and a touch of melancholy.

The graduation ceremony was about to begin. Soon, she would speak as the sole outstanding law school graduate representative of Rongda University. And with that, her four years in law school would come to a close.

Frankly speaking, being beautiful and a top student in law school, Qi Xi’s college life had gone smoothly by most measures. The only thing that bothered her was the endless string of frustrations her fiercest rival, Gu Yan, had caused her. Over four years as classmates, the number of opportunities and awards Gu Yan had snatched from her was simply uncountable.

For four full years, Qi Xi had thrown herself into her studies like an ascetic, and in the end she had never once beaten Gu Yan. Not a single time.

He was always first place. Qi Xi was always second.

Sometimes it was only a difference of a few points, but who ever remembered second place?

What Qi Xi found most unbearable was that Gu Yan won almost effortlessly. Unlike her, he hadn’t given up all entertainment and socializing to focus purely on grades — this man participated in nearly every activity the law school offered, whether it was debate competitions, basketball games, moot court, or legal aid work.

He shone brightly on nearly every stage, using his flawless face and physique to earn the admiration and praise of the female students, his presence saturating Qi Xi’s world like a kind of psychological pollution she couldn’t escape.

Like some effortless master of time management, he seemed able to excel in every field imaginable, and then turn around and easily defeat Qi Xi, who had staked everything on victory.

This sense of losing despite giving her absolute all left Qi Xi filled with frustration, and over time, that frustration had curdled into a lingering resentment toward Gu Yan.

Rationally, Qi Xi understood that Gu Yan hadn’t really done anything wrong — the two of them barely even interacted — but she couldn’t help hating him anyway.

Still, this time, the one chosen to speak as the outstanding graduate representative was her, not Gu Yan.

Mixed with the secret thrill of having scored one small victory, Qi Xi silently began reciting her speech again.

She thought for a moment, then called her father, Qi Ruiming. “Dad, where are you? The ceremony’s about to start…”

But before she could finish, Qi Ruiming cut her off. “What do you mean, where am I? I’ve still got a hearing at the Intermediate People’s Court. I need to head over there right now…”

Qi Ruiming really had forgotten!

Qi Xi felt herself unraveling. “Dad, today’s my graduation. You said you’d come! I’m speaking today as the student representative, I—”

But Qi Ruiming on the other end clearly wasn’t taking it seriously. He cut her off again, brushing her aside. “Xi Xi, Dad’s just too busy — a client’s court hearing can’t be delayed. Besides, so many of your classmates are from out of town, do their parents all come? Hardly any parents make it to these ceremonies. Just have someone film it or take pictures, and show me later. I’ve got to go, okay, bye.”

Qi Ruiming didn’t even give her the chance to finish her sentence, leaving her with nothing but the familiar dial tone.

It was true that not many parents could make it to the ceremony, but the honor of speaking as the student representative only came around once.

Qi Xi, hung up on by her own father yet again, stared down at the speech in her hands, irritation beginning to rise in her chest.

The draft had originally been hers, but after her advisor revised it three or four times, the final version had lost the essence of what she originally wanted to say — it had become bland, dutiful, soulless. Still, for the honor of speaking as the outstanding graduate representative, Qi Xi had accepted the changes.

Only now, reciting the final paragraph, she kept feeling that the transitions didn’t flow right, and that unease was made sharper by having just been hung up on.

Checking the time, she still had a little while, so she got up, thinking she’d find her advisor and discuss whether she could improvise a transitional passage.

**

Qi Xi found her advisor near the backstage entrance. He had his back to her, chatting with a staff member from the academic affairs office.

“Time really flies. Another graduating class already. Who’s speaking at this year’s ceremony?”

“Qi Xi.”

“Qi Xi? The one who’s always second? Why not Gu Yan? Isn’t he better?”

Hearing her own name come up, Qi Xi’s steps faltered. She found herself curious, too — had her advisor chosen her because he recognized her more tenacious attitude toward her studies?

But what she heard next was not the affirmation she’d hoped for.

“Gu Yan is better, sure — handsome, poised, and with so many female students in law school, if he spoke, the applause from the audience would probably be even more enthusiastic. But what can you do? He refused to let us revise his speech. Said if we wanted him to speak, we’d have to respect his wishes completely — no edits allowed.”

The academic affairs staffer laughed. “No way around it — boys are just more strong-willed. But the stronger the personality, the stronger the ability, usually. Girls are obedient, sure, but they don’t have much creative spark, and they don’t have what it takes to lead others.”

Her advisor sighed. “Honestly, for a big occasion like graduation, boys tend to have steadier nerves. Qi Xi’s a girl — I worry she might get nervous up there.”

But then his tone lightened again. “Still, she’s a girl after all, and very obedient. Wherever I told her to change something, she changed it. I revised the draft several times in the end and had her memorize the whole thing in advance. Shouldn’t be a problem. The school leadership’s all coming today — can’t afford any slip-ups.”

The two of them quickly moved on to other topics, but Qi Xi no longer heard a word of it. Her hands and feet had gone cold.

She didn’t go find her advisor after all. Instead, clutching the speech in her hand, she silently walked back to the backstage waiting area.

So even this honor — being chosen as the outstanding graduate representative — had only come to her because she’d picked up what Gu Yan didn’t want.

Gu Yan, Gu Yan. Everywhere she turned, it was Gu Yan. Everyone loved Gu Yan.

Even on her way to the gymnasium for the ceremony rehearsal, Qi Xi had accidentally stumbled upon a girl confessing her feelings to Gu Yan.

“I’m sorry, I don’t like you.”

“I have someone I like.”

“I’m going to confess to her today.”

“You don’t stand a chance.”

The girl had said a rambling, anxious string of things, humbly begging Gu Yan for one chance. Gu Yan had answered with only those four cold sentences. He hadn’t noticed Qi Xi nearby; after rejecting her, he simply turned and walked off, polite but distant, leaving the girl no room at all.

A man that unsparing — and he liked someone too?

Who on earth had the rotten luck to be liked by someone like that?

At this moment, still stung by the whole business with the speech, Qi Xi’s resentment toward Gu Yan had reached its peak.

She hoped whoever he was about to confess to would reject him just as mercilessly!

“Qi Xi.”

She was in the middle of cursing him out in her head when the voice startled her badly.

She looked up — and standing right in front of her was Gu Yan himself.

To be fair, Gu Yan really was extraordinarily good-looking, tall with excellent proportions, the very picture of a sunny, clean-cut campus star wherever he stood. Bathed now in the scattered light filtering through the gymnasium’s ceiling, in that play of light and shadow, his face carried the particular cleanness of youth alongside the early shape of a more mature handsomeness to come — there was no doubt he’d grow into a remarkably handsome man, the kind who, in a suit and with a bit of a smile, would leave plenty of girls weak in the knees.

Even Qi Xi, who’d never paid him much attention, knew that Gu Yan had been photographed by chance more than once off campus and gone viral online, and had been repeatedly approached by talent scouts. One agent had even climbed over the wall into the law school in the middle of the night, refusing to give up, and nearly got mistaken for a burglar and hauled off to the police.

Qi Xi’s heart began pounding nervously. Gu Yan’s lips were pressed thin, and she glared at him with feigned bravado to mask her unease. “What is it?”

Gu Yan looked as though he wanted to say something, but in the end he didn’t. He paused, then held something out to her. “Your book.”

Qi Xi glanced at it — it was her LSAT practice test collection.

“You left it at the library.”

Gu Yan said this, glanced at her once more, set the book down, then turned and walked away.

How strange.

Still, the sight of that LSAT book stirred something complicated in her — it represented countless nights she’d spent studying in the library.

Her mind was already a mess from what she’d overheard from her advisor, and almost without thinking, she flipped the book open. A letter slipped out.

To my beloved little treasure, Qi Xi

The greeting at the top of the letter nearly made her jolt out of her skin.

Was this…

Was this a love letter?

The practice test book had been handed to her by Gu Yan, and Gu Yan had just said he was going to confess to someone today, so…

So she was the unlucky one Gu Yan liked?

Gu Yan actually liked her?!

This was his love letter to her?!

Qi Xi’s mind went into complete chaos.

Her heart pounded wildly. She pictured Gu Yan’s face, his build, and found it hard to imagine that someone so aloof and cold could write something this saccharine — my little treasure, no less…

So the question was —

Should little treasure Qi Xi accept?

Maybe she should refuse. She and Gu Yan had so much history, old grudges and new, and she barely knew him…

But — but that face, that build, really were something. First place every single time, his intelligence had to be sharp too — maybe she should try infiltrating his inner circle, learn his tricks to eventually beat him at his own game?

In the midst of overwhelming confusion and nerves, Qi Xi unfolded the letter, and then—

Then her whole face went dark.

My little treasure, it was love at first sight, I think of you day and night, but I never dared confess. Now that graduation is almost here, I’ve decided to be brave and be myself — I confess my love to you — I love you, I love you so much I can’t sleep, you’re all I think about, at night in my head we’re already tangled together.

My treasure, I think you must feel something for me too — otherwise why would you wear those clothes that show off your figure, front and back, tempting me, swaying in front of me? I’ve seen your chest, your waist, your backside, and I can’t even walk straight. It’s all I dream about at night, I’ve grown thin pining for you, I can’t sleep, I’m wasting away, I’m nearly hollowed out.

So you’ve committed a crime against me, and by the power of my love, I sentence you to life imprisonment at my side.

I don’t want to be hollowed out by sleeplessness anymore. I hope that from now on, every night, it’s you who hollows me out instead.

…

Qi Xi could hardly believe her own eyes.

Was this a love letter?

This was sexual harassment!

This was disgusting!

When had she ever tempted him? What she’d worn had been a dance costume — of course it clung to her figure, that was the whole point — and she had never once swayed in front of Gu Yan alone. She’d only worn it because she’d been made to perform at the school’s Mid-Autumn dance, a normal performance in front of the entire student body!

Qi Xi stared at the signature at the bottom of the letter.

The two large characters — “Gu Yan” — confirmed that everything she was experiencing right now was not some fever dream born of years of resentment.

She never would have guessed that beneath that cold, proper exterior lurked something this filthy and depraved!

This man was toxic waste, plain and simple!

Little treasure Qi Xi decided there was nothing left to agonize over — she would personally send Gu Yan to the landfill where he belonged.

Qi Xi took a deep breath, finally resolved. She handed the LSAT book with the letter tucked inside to her good friend Zhao Yiran, who happened to be passing by, then crumpled the speech that had been edited into something practically written by her advisor and tossed it into a trash can.

She wanted everyone to see that women were not timid, were not always obedient, that women had their own thoughts, their own free will, that women were not any man’s accessory, not dolls trapped under stereotypes of being “well-behaved, docile, and meek.”

“Before I begin my graduation speech today, I received a love letter — and it’s made me decide to set aside the perfectly proper speech I’d prepared, and instead speak to all of you, on the spot, about the biases this society holds against women, and the strength women need to stand against them.”

…

It was a bold act of rebellion, a burst of righteous anger acted upon in the moment, and yet never before had Qi Xi felt so confident. She was no longer the eternal runner-up, forever trailing behind someone else — she was, truly and fully, herself. If she’d felt some hesitation at first, once she let go, she found herself speaking more and more fluently, more and more full of energy.

“The proportion of female students in law school today has long since outstripped that of male students — so why does everyone still assume men have an easier path to success? Among our school’s combined bachelor’s-to-doctorate students, how many women have successfully stayed on as faculty? Even the law school itself unconsciously practices employment discrimination — men are prioritized in hiring, men are prioritized for teaching positions. Society needs women, and yet exploits them, disrespects them.”

“I hope every graduate here, whether man or woman, will fight for gender equality. And I ask every man here to understand this: if you like a woman, the best way to pursue her is with respect — not verbal harassment, not objectification.”

At that moment, thousands of eyes turned toward Qi Xi. The school leadership’s faces had gone grim, her advisor looked ready to faint, but Qi Xi no longer cared about any of that.

The only person she cared about was the instigator of it all — Gu Yan. He was staring at her with unwavering, intense focus. He was the one who deserved condemnation, and yet he dared to look at her so brazenly, without the slightest trace of guilt or shame on his face.

Four years of grievances, of being overlooked and suppressed, of being labeled and pushed down, and now the humiliation of that vulgar confession letter — all of it together set Qi Xi’s blood boiling. Her speech had ignited the same fire in most of the women in the audience; the atmosphere of the ceremony had grown white-hot.

And Qi Xi, unable to hold back any longer, glared straight at Gu Yan and unleashed the full force of her fury, driving this graduation ceremony toward an explosive, blazing climax.

“Gu Yan, you have the right to secretly admire me, but confessing like that is a crime!”

“I hope you remember this: I am someone you will never, in this lifetime, be able to win over! The women of this law school will never be objects for you to harass!”

Gu Yan — today, she would tear the mask off this wolf in sheep’s clothing!

Her words landed like a drop of water in a scalding pan of oil — the crowd erupted. Sure enough, every eye turned toward Gu Yan, and Qi Xi stood on stage, waiting for him to panic and flee in disgrace.

But he didn’t.

Gu Yan only frowned, his face darkening, lips pressed into a hard line. He said nothing, did nothing — just stared fixedly up at her on the stage.

What? Had she wronged him after all?

Had the nerve to do it but not the nerve to admit it?

…

Composed and steady, Qi Xi bowed in gratitude amid the chaos and walked off the stage with her head held high, righteous and unbothered.

Backstage, Zhao Yiran was staring at her with an expression that screamed you’re done for.

But Qi Xi felt thoroughly satisfied. She walked down, sat beside Zhao Yiran, and calmly cracked open a bottle of water. “Cheer up, Zhao Yiran. We’re graduated now — even if the school leadership and my advisor are upset, so what? Call it my last act of rebellion before adulthood. Try to look on the bright side — it’s not that big a deal!”

Zhao Yiran, still clutching the test book Qi Xi had handed her earlier, found her hands beginning to tremble. “Qi Xi… did you actually read that whole letter?”

“Of course I read it!”

“Then flip it over. Look at the back.”

Qi Xi blinked, surprised. “There’s more on the back?”

Hadn’t it already ended with a signature on the front? Had Gu Yan felt the need to add a few more disgusting lines on the reverse side, just to really rub it in?

Riding high after her big speech, Qi Xi flipped the letter over without hesitation — and then…

She discovered something horrifying.

The letter hadn’t actually finished.

Because after that disgusting signature, on the back, there was one more line: ‘s roommate, Zhang Jialiang. Put together, the full signature read: Gu Yan’s roommate, Zhang Jialiang.

The letter hadn’t been written by Gu Yan.

It was from Gu Yan’s roommate, Zhang Jialiang!

…

She had, with great passion, cursed out entirely the wrong man!

Why hadn’t she thought to check the back of the page first?!

Qi Xi felt like she couldn’t breathe. In the crushing weight of what felt like fate closing its fist around her throat, she slowly turned around and looked back at Gu Yan, seated not far behind her.

Sure enough, ignoring the curious gazes of everyone around him, Gu Yan’s eyes bored straight through the crowd, fixed unwaveringly on her.

His face was still fair and handsome, but Qi Xi felt as though he were now shrouded in some kind of ancient, vengeful, mountain-demon aura, silently sentencing her to death.

Right then, her vision went dark, her head throbbing.

Zhao Yiran, beside her, only added fuel to the fire. “You’re done for, Qi Xi. Truly done for. This is a blood feud that can never be resolved…”

Qi Xi knew it too.

She thought back to that morning, walking under the overpass, where a fortune-telling con artist had grabbed her and rattled off a stream of professional-sounding nonsense, concluding that the space between her brows had darkened, a sign of impending disaster. And here it was — that superstitious old crow’s mouth had actually turned out to be right.

Right now, all she wanted was a one-way ticket off the planet, so she could flee the earth under cover of night.