Volume One, Chapter Eleven: What Kind of Heart-wrenching Battlefield Is This?

The meal Liang Muzhi had planned as an apology never happened—he left.

As Yang Xue and Xu Zhi went upstairs, Yang Xue felt triumphant. “Zhi, did you see his face? He was furious.”

Xu Zhi merely smiled, saying nothing. Her feelings were complicated.

The truth was, that last remark had felt satisfying coming out of her mouth, but after the thrill faded, she was left with a desolate sense of how everything had changed.

Because of the constant bickering between Xu Heping and Zhao Nianqiao, her home had been stifling for years. So many times, in her sadness, she’d fled to the Liang household, seeking Liang Muzhi as her final refuge. Sometimes she even felt that, compared to her parents, he was kinder to her. She used to imagine that if they built a family together, he would never be like her parents, never think of abandoning her.

All of it was wishful thinking. In a sudden moment of clarity, she realized she no longer had that sanctuary to escape the chaos of her family.

Liang Muzhi had never been humiliated in such a way before, and for several days after, he didn’t contact Xu Zhi.

In the past, Xu Zhi would have tried to make amends, but now she simply couldn’t.

Heartbreak and the looming exam week collided, making her feel utterly wretched. She endured several sleepless nights and attended her classes in a daze, her mind foggy and unfocused.

Still, she gritted her teeth and kept telling herself that love was just a small part of life, and her studies mattered more.

But no matter how she tried to focus in the classroom, her thoughts always drifted: What was Liang Muzhi doing now? Probably with Chen Jing. What were they doing? Surely not suffering like she was.

Sometimes she would pick up her phone and look at the pinned chat with Liang Muzhi. Their last conversation was still frozen at the day he’d asked her to take the blame for Chen Jing—no new messages since.

She would reread that conversation over and over, until the pain in her chest went numb.

Xu Zhi majored in Chinese as a Foreign Language. After her first exam, Advanced English Reading, she felt sure she’d failed.

Her classmates discussed their answers, but she couldn’t even recall how she’d answered the questions.

Panic set in, as if her life had slipped from her control. She hid in a corner of the rooftop, mind blank, eyes brimming with tears. Without thinking, she sent a WeChat message: I think I messed up the exam.

A few seconds after sending it, she realized her mistake and quickly deleted the message.

Just like so many times before, her instinct, in distress, was to message Liang Muzhi.

The screen now read: You recalled a message.

She didn’t know if Liang Muzhi had seen it. Her heart raced with anxiety. She turned to go downstairs and, rounding a corner, bumped into someone.

The person was tall. She clutched her forehead and apologized hurriedly, “Sorry…”

When she looked up, she froze.

She wondered if she was hallucinating—she’d run into Liang Jinmo at school.

He was as cold and distant as ever, his gaze like icy water as it rested on her.

Her eyes, rimmed with red, made her look pitiful. She asked, “Why are you here?”

“Liang Corporation is holding campus recruitment here this year, didn’t you know?” He held an unlit cigarette between his fingers. “There’s someone in the Computer Engineering Department I need for my team, so I came.”

Xu Zhi’s brain was sluggish; her first thought wasn’t to wonder what position Liang Jinmo held at the company that he personally handled recruitment, but rather that he worked in computer science.

“If you do computer stuff, can you delete a WeChat message?” She looked at him as if he were a savior and handed him her phone, warm from being gripped so tightly. “This kind.”

She showed him the system notification that a message had been recalled.

Liang Jinmo’s eyes flicked up to see her chat partner was Liang Muzhi.

Xu Zhi looked at him with desperate hope, as if grabbing at a life raft.

“It can be deleted,” he said truthfully, “but even if the notification vanishes on your end, he can still see it on his.”

Xu Zhi pressed, “Is there any way he can’t see it on his end, either?”

“Only if you get hold of his phone.”

Xu Zhi slumped in despair.

She clutched her phone, lips pursed, silent.

The corridor near the top floor was deserted and quiet. Liang Jinmo lowered his gaze.

Even standing a step below her, he was still half a head taller. She was so small and delicate; he noticed her lips pressed together, a cherry blossom pink.

His Adam’s apple moved as he leaned against the railing, asking, “Still want to delete it?”

Xu Zhi closed her eyes briefly. She felt pathetic for messaging Liang Muzhi, and now, even deleting it would leave a trace. The thought of him seeing the notification made her feel wretched.

Dejected, she muttered, “I won’t delete it.”

Liang Jinmo lifted his hand, cigarette to his lips, but before he could reach for his lighter, a male voice called from below.

“Boss, how could you come up here for a smoke without me?” The newcomer complained, “I just looked through the HR resumes. Nowadays, college students even list club awards on their CVs—how much value do those really have?”

Xu Zhi turned to see a man about twenty-five or twenty-six, good-looking and neat, coming up the stairs.

He glanced between the two, pausing. First, he looked at Liang Jinmo, then at Xu Zhi with her reddened eyes. “What’s this—a tragic lovers’ scene?”

“I’m not crying,” Xu Zhi insisted.

Liang Jinmo took the cigarette from his mouth. “Zhou He, go on ahead.”

When Liang Jinmo came back from abroad, he’d brought his own team into the Liang Corporation. Zhou He was one of his core members—technically brilliant, but hopelessly unserious around women.

Sure enough, Zhou He’s old habits emerged. He eyed Xu Zhi and, addressing Liang Jinmo, said, “Boss, you’re too much—why didn’t you mention you knew such a beauty at C University? Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

Liang Jinmo frowned. “Feeling bold today, aren’t you?”

Zhou He laughed, extending a hand to Xu Zhi. “Hi, I’m Zhou He, Liang Jinmo’s close friend.”

Xu Zhi was slow to respond—half because she hadn’t recovered from her earlier emotions, half because of Zhou He’s enthusiasm.

She wasn’t good at refusing people, so seeing his hand, she reached out as well.

But before they could shake, Liang Jinmo blocked her.

He said nothing, just fixed Zhou He with an intimidating stare.

Zhou He wasn’t annoyed; he chuckled. “Boss, your possessiveness is something else.”

Xu Zhi felt embarrassed and explained, “Liang Jinmo and I are neighbors.”

“Oh, the girl next door,” Zhou He withdrew his hand easily. “But you look familiar… haven’t we met before?”

Xu Zhi was baffled. “I don’t think so.”

“No matter, now we have,” Zhou He took out his phone. “What’s your name? Let’s add each other on WeChat.”

Liang Jinmo pressed his hand down on Zhou He’s phone. “That’s enough.”

Xu Zhi, now thoroughly distracted, felt a bit of novelty—so this was how Liang Jinmo interacted with friends. Even facing someone like Zhou He, he could be helpless.

Zhou He glared at Liang Jinmo. “Boss, you’re really overprotective of the neighbor girl. It’s not like I’m a bad guy.”

Liang Jinmo replied, “Not much better.”

Zhou He was speechless.

Xu Zhi couldn’t help but laugh.

Liang Jinmo shot her a look, and she quickly covered her mouth.

Zhou He spoke up again, “We’re heading to a bar later—want to join us?”

Before Xu Zhi could answer, Liang Jinmo said, “She doesn’t go to those places.”

The words stung Xu Zhi a little.

It was true—she’d never been to a bar. She was always the good girl; even when classmates invited her, she’d decline. But now, she really wanted to let loose.

“Who says I don’t go to bars?” She looked at Liang Jinmo. “I still owe you a favor. Tonight, let me buy you both a drink.”