1. Caught cheating

"See? That's Yang Yuran, truly a disgrace to our circle of international students, seducing Li Shuo while acting all innocent."

"Good heavens, I've had an issue with her for a while now. Just look at the color she dyed her hair, acting like she's some anime character. Only foolish men are deceived by her appearance, thinking she's naive and innocent."

"Exactly, she got caught cheating by someone's fiancée right at the school, and she still has the nerve to act like she's the victim."

Gossip buzzed around like the constant hum of flies.

At the center of all the talk, Yang Yuran covered her face with both hands, crying her heart out, looking sufficiently ashamed to wish she could just disappear.

The cold autumn breeze blew through her silver-purple curls, making her seem so frail as if she could be knocked over by the chilling wind at any moment, prompting the bystander men to become overly protective, casting unfriendly looks at Hen Ningyue.

Hen Ningyue, increasingly irritated by the stares, let out a heavy snort and raised her voice in an angry shout, "Vixen, you steal my fiancé and have the nerve to cry. If you say Li Shuo claims he's single, then have him come out and admit it in person."

"Right, call Senior Li out here, face to face, and we'll know everything."

The onlooking women crowded closer to Hen Ningyue, showing their support through their actions.

However, Yang Yuran seemed frail but was staunch in her principles, firmly stating, "He's busy with his graduation research; our matter shouldn't affect him. You say it's my fault, then let it all be my fault. Take out your anger on me, I'll take it all."

Far from soothing Hen Ningyue, this offer of complete submission only shattered her remaining good manners. Reaching forward, a slap in the making turned into a yank, as a torrent of angry swear words spilled out.

"No wonder Li Shuo is so enchanted by you that he forgets himself; you play such deep games. Let me tell you, at most he's just playing with you; he'll never take you seriously. Stop pretending to be in love with me here. If you don't bring Li Shuo out today, you might as well go back to China and wait for the Yang Family to kick you out."

"Ah, it hurts!" Yang Yuran's weak cry.

The alluring sound of her voice made men more inclined to pity and protect her, as they took turns advising, "Let it be, why make it hard for her alone?"

"Yeah, if you can't keep your own man in line, why take it out on your fellow woman?"

The more she was defended, the more this act of playing the distressed damsel attracted the ire of other women.

"Do you think covering your face can save you from a slap?"

Hen Ningyue's two companions, who were more straightforward, grabbed Yang Yuran's other arm, helping Hen Ningyue to pull her hands away from her face.

Her makeup-free face was revealed, her fox-like eyes swimming with tears, filled with bitterness and grievance. The men could no longer stand by idly; their protective instincts took over as they became defenders. Three of them blocked the approaching group of angry women while two escorted Yang Yuran back to her dormitory.

Yang Yuran's body trembled uncontrollably as she staggered forward, still uttering deeply affectionate words, "I will leave Brother Shuo, I will leave this place, I will disappear from his world, just don't let this affect his graduation research."

Back at the dormitory, Yang Yuran didn't hesitate. She packed her luggage, sent her thesis to her advisor via email.

After completing the departure formalities, she resolutely bade farewell to her roommates and headed to the airport.

Sitting in the departure lounge, she opened WeChat with a heavy heart, checking over a dozen messages from Li Shuo pleading for her to stay.

She carefully read through them one by one, her ice-cold fingertips typing out a final blessing: "May you smoothly win the Outstanding Research Award, may you be successful and happy in the future."

She stared blankly at the farewell blessing for a moment, straining to regain her composure. She dabbed her swollen eyes with a tissue, declined the video call request, and blacklisted all forms of contact.

Sniffling, she took a deep breath and let it out heavily before rising to walk into the boarding gate.

The flight from Connecticut back to Hangzhou in her home country took 15 hours. Yang Yuran boarded the plane in the evening. Having spent most of the day in tears, she could hardly muster the good spirits to appreciate the clouds outside her window and leaned back into the seat, exhausted, drifting off to sleep.

In her dream, she saw Mrs. Yang crying again. Ever since her uncle died and her aunt and cousin came to live with them, Mrs. Yang would often cover her face in tears.

The dream took her back to ten days earlier when Mrs. Yang video-called to tell her that Mr. Yang had asked for a divorce.

From the moment Mrs. Yang had more fingerprints on her face, Yang Yuran had anticipated the outcome of her parents' relationship.

"Mom, come to Connecticut," she had urged. "I've started a study-abroad agency here, and it's doing quite well. Even though I can't provide you with a life of luxury like dad does, I can guarantee we won't lack for food or clothing."

Yang Yuran had tried to persuade Mrs. Yang many times, but to no effect, just like this time.

Mrs. Yang firmly refused her: "Ranran, I will not leave the Yang Family. Your father built up his business with your grandfather's company. Just last year your grandfather passed away, and now your father intends to marry his own cousin into the family. He's delusional if he thinks I'll let him get away with it."

Yang Yuran closed her eyes in exhaustion, patiently appealing. "Mom, people can choose how they want to live. Why choose the most painful path?"

"Ranran, I cannot accept this. Your father doesn't fear the old folks at the Yang Family scolding him, but I still need to face people. As long as I live, I won't let that pair have an easy life! There's no use talking about this anymore. Just stay overseas and don't come back."

Mrs. Yang, clearly agitated, made her decision and hung up the video call. The dream then became chaotic, interspersed with many memories. She recalled how her father used to dote on her, carrying her on his shoulders, and the timid expression of her aunt when she first moved into their home. At that time, Mrs. Yang naively shared everything with her aunt.

At 16, she was pushed into a swimming pool by her cousin. The water was so cold, breathing so difficult; the fear of death wasn't as chilling as the favoritism in her father's words.

It's so cold. She wanted to wake up, yet it seemed two people were holding her, dragging her into an abyss she couldn't escape from.

Her cries for help only caused her to gulp down more water, and in her helplessness, she grasped a hand—a large hand forcefully pushed away the nightmares entangling her.

She slowly awoke to find a custom Spanish suit sliding off her body. Picking it up, she felt the residual warmth on it. For some reason, this unfamiliar piece of clothing gave her a great sense of security.

But whose clothes were they?

Looking around, she saw that of the 12 first-class seats, only hers and those in the second row were occupied. She vaguely remembered that there had been only one ticket left when she booked hers.

A flash of surprise crossed her mind as she firmly observed her silent flight companion. The man was lying in his reclined seat, seemingly in a deep sleep.

Gold-rimmed glasses were still perched on his tall nose, forgotten to be taken off, and his thick eyelashes cast faint shadows under his eyes. As she cast her gaze upon him, as if sensing her, his eyelashes trembled slightly—he was about to awaken.

Yang Yuran quickly withdrew her gaze, folded the man's suit neatly, and placed it by his side. She put on her hat, wrapped her scarf around her, and left the first-class cabin.

In the upper echelons of society, overstepping one's bounds always equated with trouble. She had enough worries already; a man who could afford to book the entire first-class cabin for himself was someone she'd better avoid.