From the start, the role of Chen Ling's girlfriend in Yaxi's mind was already filled.
By someone utterly different from her—vivid, dazzling, and unashamedly confident. When she stood beside him, neither overshadowed the other. They were equals, each enhancing the other's brilliance.
When Chen Ling raised the national flag, Xu Xiaoyi delivered the speech on behalf of all the students.
When Chen Ling won the 1000-meter race, Xu Xiaoyi was the announcer cheering him on with her voice: "Soaring high, claiming victory!"
When Xu Xiaoyi volunteered, Chen Ling filmed her for a vlog, and together they appeared on TV.
Sometimes, Yaxi felt she understood their relationship better than they did. It was like staring into a mirror, two halves of the same whole, inseparable by anything or anyone. On the rare occasions when they bickered and seemed on the verge of breaking up, Xu Xiaoyi would cry to Yaxi, and it was always Yaxi who reassured her firmly:
"You won't break up."
Yaxi never became Chen Ling's girlfriend, but secretly, she became Xu Xiaoyi's emotional dumping ground.
All because she had indulged her own desires and confessed her feelings to someone who already had a partner. The first time Yaxi brought milk, it wasn't just milk—it was a love letter tucked inside.
She never intended to intrude; such thoughts were absurd fantasies. She always believed she wasn't good enough—not good enough to compete with Xu Xiaoyi, nor worthy of standing beside Chen Ling.
Instead, she wanted to be like those supporting characters in movies—the ones who exist outside the main couple's world. If the male lead opened his shoe locker and dozens of letters spilled out, and if the director showed even a shred of mercy, giving her name a fleeting moment on screen, that would suffice. Her face didn't deserve the spotlight.
Just seeing her name would be enough. Even if he never noticed it.
And so, during that lunch break, she walked into the empty classroom 306, planning to place the milk atop the letter and slip it into Chen Ling's desk drawer—but Xu Xiaoyi caught her in the act.
Xu Xiaoyi raised her hand, and Yaxi braced herself for a slap. Instead, she snatched the letter from Yaxi's grasp, unfolded it, and began reading aloud, word by word.
"I often feel there's a mountain towering before you.
You work harder and remain humbler than anyone else, yet you never lose sight of the path ahead, no matter how lofty the peak.
The flowers and applause are nothing but distractions—you're the eagle destined to soar above them.
But I am stuck in the mud, only able to gaze up at your flight.
If one day I could also fly—even as a hummingbird or a moth—I'd become whatever it took to take wing.
Then I would sing loudly, hoping my voice might reach you.
I wouldn't sing about you, but about me. I burned through my soul in the darkness to gain these fragile wings, skimming low across the ground.
By then, my song would be fierce and proud, free of doubt or sorrow. I would love myself as fiercely as I love you now.
So what if you don't remember me?"
As she read, Xu Xiaoyi laughed, almost doubled over, leaving Yaxi's pride scattered on the floor. A flicker of hatred rose in Yaxi's chest, but then Xu Xiaoyi added:
"Little sister, you're hilarious. Do you think romance is some kind of war zone? Why so intense? But hey, your writing's not bad. Have you entered any contests? Don't worry—if we don't have men, we'll focus on our careers. Too bad your luck's rotten—I intercepted this letter. But honestly, even if I hadn't, I'd still read every love letter Chen Ling receives. Fair's fair."
Yaxi: …
Was this really Xu Xiaoyi's personality?
During her speeches under the national flag, she had always been solemn and composed—a model student.
"Do you want Chen Ling to read this letter seriously?" Xu Xiaoyi suddenly leaned closer, her tone teasing.
Yaxi stared at her coldly, her fists clenched.
"How about I rewrite this letter and send it to him under my name? Let's see how he reacts."
Yaxi couldn't resist the overwhelming temptation.
What if she weren't trapped by her current circumstances? What if she had a prettier face, a better background, or simply a more advantageous starting point? How would Chen Ling see her then?
That spring, a gentle breeze drifted between lovers.
Yaxi stood on the rooftop corridor, watching as Chen Ling held the letter in one hand and pulled Xu Xiaoyi into a passionate kiss.
The spring breeze couldn't keep them apart—it only drew them closer.
Still unsatisfied, Chen Ling brushed his thumb over Xu Xiaoyi's lips and chuckled softly:
"You didn't write this, did you? Had someone ghostwrite it? Trying to fool me again. Only you could come up with something like this."
Xu Xiaoyi let him pull her into his arms. "You get so many love letters every day—I have to get jealous sometimes."
Chen Ling tapped her nose playfully. "You're not exactly short on confessions yourself, you know."
Xu Xiaoyi tilted her head up. "So, what do you think of today's letter? I had an expert write it."
Yaxi crouched down, leaning against the wall, trembling. She wanted to hear his answer, but at the same time, she wanted to run far away.
"It's too extreme, too self-deprecating. Don't emulate her—it's unhealthy."
Each word struck like an arrow, piercing Yaxi's heart with precision and cruelty. Her eyes reddened with pain, and before she could hear the final sentence, she covered her ears.
"Xu Xiaoyi, just be yourself."
Yaxi had deluded herself into thinking that Xu Xiaoyi was loved by Chen Ling because of fate—that she was beautiful, came from a privileged family, or perhaps because they had grown up together.
But in truth, there was no reason. Chen Ling might have loved her boldness, her confidence, or maybe everything about her. This love was beyond question. And Yaxi?
Even if Yaxi approached Chen Ling as a friend, he would keep her at arm's length.
Because her heavy heart carried burdens too great to bear, because she was desperate and self-loathing—she was exactly the kind of person Chen Ling disliked.
As dusk fell, Yaxi skipped class.
The tears had dried, but her resolve remained shaky. Silently, she prayed:
"One day, I will love myself more fiercely than I love you now."