Chapter 16: How Could I Forget?

The matter quickly spread among the students of Chaoxi High. The fact that the forum administrators hadn’t deleted the post suggested they were more than happy to watch the chaos unfold.

Bai Jianming glanced at the messages on his phone and let out a soft tsk. It seemed he wasn’t the only one who had people taking photos; others were watching, too. He had originally planned to release everything—all of Zhao Xue’s past misdeeds—closer to the Gaokao, but someone had beaten him to the punch.

Beside him, Su Xu noticed his movements. “What are you looking at?”

Bai Jianming looked up at his friend. He was certain Su Xu had no feelings for Meng Yao, but as for Zhao Xue… that was harder to call. Chaoxi High was massive, with multiple cafeterias; unless you were looking for someone, you rarely bumped into them. In the past, they saw Zhao Xue every day only because she relentlessly sought them out. Now that she had stopped, they hardly crossed paths despite being in the same school.

Having spent every day with Su Xu, Bai Jianming had noticed something off about his friend lately. Su Xu would often fall into deep thought out of nowhere, and his brow would subconsciously furrow whenever anyone mentioned Zhao Xue.

Bai Jianming’s mind whirred. He smiled and handed his phone over. “It’s news about Zhao Xue.”

Su Xu turned his head away. “Forget it. Just hearing her name is annoying.”

Bai Jianming acted disappointed. “Alright then. It’s not particularly special anyway—just Zhao Xue kissing someone.”

Su Xu’s eyes flickered. He reached out. “Give it to me.”

Bai Jianming narrowed his eyes and handed the phone over. Su Xu watched the video in silence, an inexplicable bitterness rising in his chest. It had been a long time since he’d last seen Zhao Xue. When she told him she didn’t like him anymore, he had taken it as a joke. He had rejected her countless times, yet she had always come back with a smile. He had found her presence exhausting, but he hadn’t expected her words to be true this time.

The “dog” that had always followed him had suddenly abandoned him. It left Su Xu feeling frustrated and out of sorts. But that was all.

Bai Jianming asked, “Want to go ask her about it later?”

Su Xu handed the phone back. “Boring. The Gaokao is only a month away; don’t do such pointless things.”

In any high school, such things happened every year. There was nothing to be surprised about. Rich kids played even more recklessly; campus news was never in short supply. He just hadn’t expected Zhao Xue to be the type who didn’t care about gender. The thought made Su Xu’s face darken with a hint of physical revulsion.

Noticing Su Xu’s expression, Bai Jianming smiled imperceptibly. He then turned around and forwarded the video to the Zhao family. Since someone had already leaked it, he might as well utilize the momentum.

The situation was both big and small. It was small because teachers didn’t dare interfere—offering only verbal warnings—and students didn’t dare bring it up to Zhao Xue’s face. On the surface, it was as if nothing had happened, but the private discussions were as outrageous as they could get.

In a prestigious school like Chaoxi, such incidents were common. The reason Zhao Xue’s case caused such a stir was likely because she was widely hated—a true campus bully. Those who could intervene wouldn’t; those who wanted to didn’t dare.

Meng Yao was sensitive to the gazes of others. she noticed the eyes following her were increasing in number—filled with malice, disdain, and pity. She could guess: the photos had been leaked.

During the break, Lin Shuang turned around, looking at her desk-mate with an expression of hesitation. She wanted to ask if Zhao Xue had forced her. But in the video, it looked like Meng Yao was the one taking the lead.

Lin Shuang opened her mouth, but before she could speak, she was interrupted. A crowd of classmates swarmed around Meng Yao, chirping incessantly with questions.

“Meng Yao, were you forced?” “Meng Yao, what does it feel like to kiss Zhao Xue?” “Meng Yao, have you two slept together yet?” “Meng Yao, does Zhao Xue smell good? Is her skin really that soft?”

Initially, everyone’s impression of Meng Yao was that of a loud, impolite poor girl who deliberately tried to seduce the “gods” of the school. Later, when Zhao Xue targeted her, they had gloated. More recently, seeing her personality shift from cheerful to gloomy and repressed—as if Zhao Xue had broken her spirit—they had felt a stir of pity.

But mostly, they were there for the show. No one ever thought to help her. Now that this had happened, they didn’t care if Meng Yao was a victim; they only cared about the scandalous details.

“Meng Yao, what’s Zhao Xue’s face like when she’s… passionate? Do you have photos?”

Hearing this, Meng Yao’s gaze darkened. She stood up abruptly, staring straight at the person who asked. She was tall and lean; the student realized Meng Yao was nearly a head taller than him. Her pitch-black eyes fixed on him with such intensity that he shuddered and looked away.

Meng Yao stood straight, her cold, sinister gaze sweeping over the crowd. Suddenly, her lips curled. Her naturally aloof and cold features gave the smile an eerie, captivating quality.

“She’s very fragrant. Very sweet. But what business is it of yours?”

Lin Shuang, watching carefully from the side, felt that the way Meng Yao smiled just then was eerily similar to Zhao Xue. The thought made Lin Shuang feel like she was losing her mind. Although… then again… Zhao Xue and Meng Yao actually… did look quite good together.

The smile was fleeting, but it left the crowd feeling inexplicably chilled. They scurried back to their seats. Someone muttered, “Don’t mess with her. She seems mentally unstable. Perfect match for a cancer like Zhao Xue.”

Meng Yao sat back down. The surrounding stares didn’t affect her in the slightest. Seeing this, Lin Shuang gave up on trying to talk to her.

“Meng Yao, Teacher Lin wants to see you in the office,” someone shouted.

Simultaneously, Zhao Xue received a call from the Zhao family. This was her first actual contact with them since arriving in this world. She sifted through the original host’s memories.

To outsiders, Zhao Xue was the pampered princess of the Zhao family. Her two older brothers and older sister doted on her, giving her whatever she wanted. Even if they didn’t share the same mother, their relationship seemed unaffected. Even Father Zhao appeared close to her.

But only an onlooker could see the truth clearly. This “devotion” was nothing more than “killing with kindness.” They raised Zhao Xue to be an arrogant, domineering brat with zero knowledge of the family business. She was being groomed to be useless, stripped of any ability to compete for the inheritance.

Zhao Xue’s mother was the third wife, but she had passed away five years ago. Her maternal grandfather’s family was quite powerful; if Zhao Xue were capable of entering the company upon growing up, they would support her fully. In that scenario, her older siblings wouldn’t be able to compete with her.

The evidence was clear: no one from the family had even contacted her in all the time she’d been here until now. Their acting wasn’t even consistent.

Zhao Xue answered the phone. A young, steady, and “gentle” male voice came through. “Xiaoxue, Big Brother has been too busy to call you lately. Dad found out about what happened at school. You need to be careful—don’t say the wrong things. You know Dad despises homosexuality.”

Zhao Xue’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I know, Big Brother. I’m busy, hanging up now.” She ended the call.

Immediately, a message arrived from her eldest brother, Zhao Sheng:

[Transfer: 500,000 Yuan] Is Xiaoxue unhappy because Big Brother hasn’t messaged lately? Here’s some pocket money. Don’t be upset. I’ll come see you once I’m done with work. Regardless of whether you’re playing around or whatever, just try not to take it too far.

Zhao Xue accepted the transfer but didn’t reply. Just as Zhao Sheng predicted, a call from “Dad” came shortly after. She toyed with her chin, debating whether to answer. She eventually picked up; she wanted to see what he would say.

In her memories, Father Zhao had a foul temper. Whether it was his sons or daughters, if they offended him, he would strike them physically. He was a man of harsh action.

The moment the call connected, his booming voice came through: “Zhao Xue, I didn’t say anything about the nonsense you pulled before, but now you’re playing around with women? You’re getting more lawless by the day! Get yourself home this weekend!”

The line went dead. Zhao Xue chuckled. What did he just say? She hadn’t heard clearly. She rubbed her lower back; the “puppy” had been a bit too vigorous last night, leaving her still feeling a bit sore.

“Meng Yao, I have high hopes for you. The Gaokao is only a month away; I hope you can focus entirely on your studies.”

“You and Zhao Xue aren’t from the same world, do you understand? For people like them, there are many paths. But for you, there is only one.”

“I’m telling you this because I don’t want you to drown in this. I was a student once too—romance isn’t as important as your future.”

Teacher Lin’s voice was gentle; she was genuinely worried. To put it bluntly, ordinary students were often just toys for the rich—discarded the moment they became boring. From the start, the relationship in Zhao Xue’s eyes was likely unequal.

Meng Yao kept her head down, her voice low. “I won’t, Teacher.”

Teacher Lin sighed, hoping her words had sunk in. “Alright, class is starting soon. Go back.”

“Mm.”

As she closed the door, she heard another teacher speaking inside. “Teacher Lin, what’s the point? Maybe she’s doing it willingly. It’s not like there aren’t people who come to this school specifically to find a rich partner. I think you’re just worrying for nothing…”

Meng Yao walked away, the rest of the words fading. Between her and Zhao Xue, there was no “romance”—it was merely a game of master and hound.

The Zhao family moved fast. By the afternoon, the post about Zhao Xue’s kiss had vanished completely. But those who needed to know already knew.

After school, as Zhao Xue sat in the car, she received another call. It was her second brother, Zhao Yu.

His voice was cold and indifferent. “Zhao Xue, you can have anyone you want. I’ve checked her background—it’s pathetic. She’s living off you, and you’re even paying for her grandmother’s treatment. Are you running a charity? You’d better break it off with her.” His words were full of contempt for Meng Yao.

Zhao Xue glanced at Meng Yao beside her. Seeing her usual expression, she figured Meng Yao hadn’t heard. She blinked. “But I like her very much.”

“Zhao Xue, you—” Beep, beep, beep…

Just for kissing Meng Yao, the family’s reaction is so over-the-top. Did they all just come down from a monastery?

Zhao Xue hung up and leaned against Meng Yao, resting her head on the other girl’s shoulder. The partition was already up. “Rub my back for me. You did it; it’s so sore.”

Meng Yao’s body stiffened. She slowly placed her hand on Zhao Xue’s slender waist, her joints feeling as stiff as rusted iron. Zhao Xue’s attitude toward her seemed to have become even more intimate. Meng Yao felt that rubbing her waist was even more suggestive than a simple kiss.

She lowered her lashes to hide the unease in her eyes. “I told you to stop, but you wouldn’t.”

As Zhao Xue complained, Meng Yao’s memories returned to the previous night. Her ears quickly turned crimson; last night, she had been like one possessed—her body simply wouldn’t listen to her.

Zhao Xue took Meng Yao’s other hand and began to toy with it. Meng Yao had long fingers with distinct knuckles and neatly trimmed nails. Her palms were calloused, including her fingers—Zhao Xue knew these were from years of labor. The back of her hand was pale, with faint veins that appeared when she applied pressure. It was subtly erotic.

Zhao Xue lifted Meng Yao’s fingers to her lips and gave them a light kiss, feeling the girl flinch.

Zhao Xue let out a low laugh. “What are you hiding for? Have you already forgotten what you did last night?”

In her heart, Meng Yao answered: I haven’t. And she never would.