Chapter 19: The Gentle Trap

“Xu Yuan… classmate?”

That gentle voice, tinged with a hint of uncertainty, pierced through the gloom like a warm ray of light, abruptly illuminating Xu Yuan’s world—a world long ravaged and left in ruin by relentless storms and howling winds.

Her entire body stiffened as she suddenly lifted her head.

Through tear-blurred vision, she saw a pair of pristine, spotless white sneakers. Her gaze rose to a meticulously ironed shirt, and then to a face as smooth and gentle as polished jade, etched with concern.

It was Wen Ran—the heartthrob of the Journalism Department and last year’s national scholarship recipient.

He stood before her, holding a professional book, looking at her tear-streaked face and swollen eyes with undisguised surprise and worry.

“Are you… alright?”

Being caught in such a vulnerable state by a nearly unfamiliar, yet highly esteemed senior in school overwhelmed Xu Yuan with a crushing sense of shame.

Like a cat startled by a sudden noise, she sprang to her feet, hastily wiping the tears from her face with the back of her hand, stammering, “I’m fine! I… just got some sand in my eye! Yes, sand!”

The excuse was so clumsy even she found it laughable.

Wen Ran studied her flustered, dignity-struggling expression but chose not to expose her. Instead, he pulled a pack of clean tissues from his pocket, took one out, and held it out gently to her.

His gesture was light, tender, and his eyes radiated a carefully measured kindness that didn’t feel intrusive.

“The wind in the hallway of the teaching building is quite strong,” he said softly, like a breeze in spring, giving her a graceful way out, “Here, wipe it. Your eyes are all red.”

Xu Yuan looked at the tissue he offered and then at his warm, smiling face. The tension, the nearly unbearable pressure tearing at her heart, loosened just a little.

Hesitantly, she accepted the tissue, lowering her head and whispering, “…Thank you, senior.”

“You’re welcome.” Wen Ran smiled—a smile pure and warm. “I’m Wen Ran, a junior in Journalism. I’ve seen you before—your speech as the freshmen representative at the last scholarship ceremony was impressive.”

He actually… remembered her?

Xu Yuan looked up, startled.

“Many of your views have depth,” Wen Ran said, his eyes filled with genuine admiration and affirmation, “especially the part about new media ethics. I’ve been wanting to find a chance to talk with you, but it seems you’re always… very busy.”

His words were like a warm current gently flowing into Xu Yuan’s heart, which had long been battered and scarred by Jiang Yi’s coldness and the harsh realities of life.

So, in this school, besides Lin Feifei, there were still people who recognized her efforts and valued her worth.

“I…” Xu Yuan was about to respond when a deliberate cough sounded behind her.

Instinctively, she turned to see Jiang Yi emerging from the Computer Science building.

He stood not far away, arms cradling the sandwich and milk she had forcefully handed him earlier. His bottomless black eyes, cold and expressionless, stared at her through the morning light and the passing crowd.

And at Wen Ran in front of her.

Their gazes locked.

In the air, invisible sparks crackled.

Xu Yuan’s heart skipped a beat.

Why is he here? Wasn’t he supposed to go straight to the computer lab?

Wen Ran seemed to sense that oppressive gaze. He turned his head, saw Jiang Yi, and his warm smile stiffened ever so slightly before returning to its polite composure. He nodded at Jiang Yi in greeting.

Jiang Yi didn’t even glance back.

He just looked at Xu Yuan, his gaze even colder than when they met downstairs.

Then he turned and wordlessly walked toward the independent project room in the laboratory building that Xu Yuan had just “applied” for.

His back was proud and cold, like a stubborn rock that rejected the entire world.

“That must be… your partner?” Wen Ran whispered, his tone tinged with curiosity as he watched Jiang Yi’s departing figure. “Jiang Yi from Computer Science—I’ve heard of him. A genius.”

“Mm.” Xu Yuan nodded absentmindedly, her mind in chaos.

“Genius temperaments are always… special,” Wen Ran said as he withdrew his gaze and looked back at Xu Yuan with kindness, “But I believe in you. After all, you’re someone who really shines.”

“If you ever face difficulties or… just want someone to talk to,” he handed her the book *News Interviewing and Writing* and pointed to the inside cover, “you can come to me. My contact info is there.”

With that, he smiled warmly and left without another word.

Xu Yuan stood still, clutching the tissue still warm from her hands, watching Wen Ran’s gentle and refined figure fade away, then glanced toward the direction Jiang Yi had disappeared. Her world that morning had been stirred into an unprecedented, chaotic mess.

…

The independent project room was on the fourth floor of the laboratory building—an abandoned physics lab unused for a long time.

When Xu Yuan pushed the door open, a stale scent of dust mixed with disinfectant hit her.

Jiang Yi was already there.

He hadn’t turned on the light, sitting alone at the farthest experimental bench. The slanting sunlight outside cast a long, solitary shadow over him.

On the desk before him lay the sandwich she had forced on him, untouched.

Hearing the door open, he didn’t look back.

“Key.”

His voice was cold, devoid of any emotion.

Xu Yuan’s heart sank deeply.

She knew he was still angry about the morning—angry at her assertiveness, her provocation, and most of all… angry that Wen Ran had seen her at her most unguarded.

“There’s only one key, and I have it.” Xu Yuan took a deep breath, suppressing all her emotions, restoring the businesslike, indifferent investor facade. “This is to ensure our ‘investment’ doesn’t wander off.”

She sat down opposite him, placing her laptop and the project proposal heavily on the table, the sound breaking the oppressive silence.

“Now, can we start working, my dear… partner?”

Jiang Yi finally turned his head slowly.

His eyes, dark and deep, swirled with emotions Xu Yuan couldn’t decipher—anger, mockery, and a trace of… hurt even he probably hadn’t realized.

“Before you start your ‘professional performance,’” he suddenly spoke, his voice hoarse, “shouldn’t you explain what your relationship with Wen Ran is?”

Xu Yuan was utterly stunned.

She hadn’t expected him to ask that.

What was this? An interrogation?

Who was he to?

A surge of nameless fury shot up from deep within her.

“Does this have anything to do with our ‘new deal’?” She met his intense gaze without backing down, retorting, “Or is Jiang University God… jealous now?”

The words “jealous” stabbed into Jiang Yi’s heart like two sharp needles piercing an already bristling fortress.

His face instantly turned pale.

“You overestimate yourself,” he said coldly, cruelly, with a smile that cut like ice. “I’m just reminding you, Xu Yuan, to pack up those tacky, flirtatious tricks. I have no interest in playing your boring emotional games.”

“My time is precious.”

With that, he didn’t look at her again. He put on his headphones, opened his laptop, and shut himself off completely into that cold world of code and logic.

Watching his hard, impenetrable profile, Xu Yuan felt as if all the blood in her body had frozen.

She had won the morning’s battle but lost this confrontation.

The fragile crack between them had once again been sealed by an even heavier frost.

…

For the next several hours, the entire project room was engulfed in a suffocating, silent war.

They didn’t utter a single word.

Xu Yuan forced herself to focus entirely on the “Wind Rise” competition proposal, pouring all her talent and effort into it, trying to numb her heart riddled with wounds.

Jiang Yi, like an emotionless supercomputer, furiously tapped at the keyboard. The screen overflowed with dense lines of code, cascading like a waterfall.

At three in the afternoon, Xu Yuan’s phone vibrated suddenly.

It was a notice from the teacher in charge of the “Starlight Cup” sent to their competition group:

【Attention all participants: Due to aging electrical circuits on the library’s third floor, a full inspection and replacement will take place next Monday. The entire third floor will be closed all day. Please remove your personal belongings in advance to prevent loss.】

Library… third floor.

Electrical circuits… aging.

These words struck Xu Yuan’s mind like a black lightning bolt, shattering all her reason and endurance into fragments.

She lifted her head abruptly, staring incredulously out the window.

The sky, at some unknown moment, had darkened.

Massive dark clouds surged from the horizon, like an immense, unavoidable storm approaching.

And in her mind, the dream about the library, burning with blazing fire, overlapped with reality at an unprecedented clarity.

So…

It was true.

It was not a dream.

It was a prophecy… soon to ignite.