betray
The echoes of the school bell still lingered in the corridor. Xu Yanchi and Xue Su waved goodbye at the classroom door. Xue Su turned back and winked at Xu Yanchi, reminding her not to forget to close the classroom window. Xu Yanchi agreed and closed the window. She turned to walk towards the stairwell, but suddenly stopped. Wang Zhitao was leaning against the wall at the corner of the stairs, his hair slightly messy and hanging over his forehead. His hands were in his school uniform pockets, his fingertips sticking out and gently rubbing the fabric.
The setting sun slanted in through the window at the end of the corridor, casting a golden-red light on his face, blurring his usually cheerful features. Yet, his eyes, fixed on her, held an inexplicable languor, as if veiled by a layer of mist, clinging to her.
The stairwell was mostly empty, with only the occasional sound of packing bags coming from afar. Xu Yanchi frowned, about to ask, "Is something wrong?", when Wang Zhitao moved first. He straightened up, a faint smile playing on his lips, and waved to her, "Xu Yanchi, come here for a moment."
A strange unease crept into Xu Yanchi's heart, and she gripped her backpack strap tightly. But then she thought, perhaps he was in some trouble, like not having finished copying his homework or wanting to find out what the teacher had assigned for today. Thinking this, she still took a step forward and walked over. Just as she stopped, her wrist was suddenly grabbed by a force—Wang Zhitao pulled her towards the wall, instantly closing the distance between them.
He was a head taller than her, and as he looked down, his breath gently brushed against the stray hairs on her forehead. Xu Yanchi froze, clearly hearing the sound of his breathing from his chest, mixed with a faint, unusual breath. She instinctively tried to back away, but her wrist was gripped even tighter. "Wang Zhitao, what are you doing?" she asked, her voice betraying a hint of panic.
Wang Zhitao stared into her eyes, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly, his voice trembling a little, but he spoke very softly: "I want you, is that okay?"
Xu Yanchi was stunned, as if he had been burned. His struggling strength weakened slightly, and his eyes widened in disbelief: "You... what did you say?"
“I said,” he repeated, each word deliberate, his eyes no longer showing their usual cheerfulness, but only stubborn seriousness, “I want you, is that not allowed?”
Only then did Xu Yanchi fully realize what was happening, and she suddenly tried to break free from his hand: "Are you crazy?" She pushed him hard, not with much force, but it made Wang Zhitao take a small step back.
"Why are you rejecting me?" Wang Zhitao didn't let go, but instead leaned forward, his voice tinged with grievance and urgency, "I like you, Xu Yanchi, I've liked you for a long time, can't you accept my confession?"
"Confess your love?" Xu Yanchi finally broke free of her grasp, took two steps back, and frowned at the stranger in front of her. "Have you been drinking or are you still half asleep? You're talking nonsense. Go wash your face and sober up!"
These words seemed not to have reached his ears. Wang Zhitao's gaze fell on her tightly pursed lips, his Adam's apple bobbed again, and he suddenly reached out to pull her back, leaning forward as if he wanted to kiss her.
A sharp "smack" rang out clearly in the quiet stairwell. Xu Yanchi raised her hand and slapped him across the face. Her fingertips were slightly numb; the force wasn't great, but it was enough to freeze Wang Zhitao's movements instantly.
He covered his face, his eyes slowly darkening from astonishment to coldness, finally turning completely icy. All his previous grievances and urgency vanished, leaving only a furious rage: "Damn it, did I give you any face? You dare hit me?"
His face was tense, his brows furrowed, and his eyes were frighteningly fierce. He was completely different from Wang Zhitao, who would usually smile and put his arm around Xiao Fuzhou's shoulder and casually complain about being hungry. Xu Yanchi's heart skipped a beat, but she forced herself to remain calm. A layer of indifference slowly rose on her face, and she didn't back down, just staring at him.
This sight completely ignited Wang Zhitao's anger. He took a step forward, his voice suddenly rising, almost shouting, "Who the hell do you think you are? Huh?! Tell me, where am I inferior to Xiao Fuzhou? Where exactly am I not as good as him?!"
"You're inferior in every way." Xu Yanchi sneered, his eyes filled with disgust. "Take a piss and look at yourself in the mirror. You were just rejected, and with this attitude, you dare to compare yourself to others?"
"You fucking want to die!" Wang Zhitao was completely enraged, the veins on his forehead bulging. He raised his hand to swing at her—Xu Yanchi was prepared. The moment he raised his hand, she dodged to the side, grabbed his wrist as he swung it, and pulled him to the side with the force of her turn.
Wang Zhitao hadn't expected her to resist. Losing his balance, he stumbled and crashed into the wall, his elbow slamming against it with a dull thud. He groaned in pain, and when he looked back at Xu Yanchi, his anger burned even brighter. But because of his earlier stumble, he didn't dare to rush forward again. He just panted heavily, glaring at her fiercely like a wild beast that had been provoked.
Xu Yanchi sneered again, his fingers tightening around the backpack strap: "Auntie, are you alright? Why don't you go to the hospital and see a psychiatrist? You're getting angry over nothing?"
These words pierced Wang Zhitao's heart like a needle, causing him to lose all composure. With red eyes, he lunged at Xu Yanchi, reaching out to grab her arm. Xu Yanchi stepped back, nimbly dodging again. Glancing at the math textbook that had been knocked to the ground, she bent down and quickly picked it up. Taking advantage of Wang Zhitao's missed lunge and turning around, she raised her hand and slammed it hard against his ear—the edge of the book hit the back of his ear with a dull thud.
Wang Zhitao was stunned by the blow, his steps faltering, his eyes blazing with fury. He clutched his ear, ready to lunge again. But before he could regain his footing, footsteps echoed from below the stairs, accompanied by a familiar, slightly cold voice: "What are you doing?"
Xu Yanchi felt a sense of relief and turned her head to see Xiao Fuzhou standing on the stair landing, carrying a schoolbag and with his brows tightly furrowed. His gaze first fell on her hand holding the book, then swept over Wang Zhitao's flushed face and the faint red marks behind his ear, and finally settled on the tense posture of the two of them. His eyes instantly darkened.
When Wang Zhitao saw Xiao Fuzhou, he suddenly stopped. The ferocity in his eyes faded a little, but a sense of resentment and embarrassment remained. He was panting heavily, his fingers clenched so tightly they turned white, but he didn't dare to move again. His fierce and menacing appearance just now, under Xiao Fuzhou's gaze, was like a punctured balloon, deflating most of his confidence.
Xu Yanchi slowly loosened her grip on the book, her fingertips still slightly clenched. She didn't speak, but simply took a half-step back, distancing herself from Wang Zhitao. Xiao Fuzhou didn't ask any more questions. He quickly stepped forward, stood beside Xu Yanchi, and stepped aside to shield her slightly. His gaze, cold as ice, fell on Wang Zhitao: "What did you do to her?"
Wang Zhitao opened his mouth, wanting to explain, but looking into Xiao Fuzhou's eyes and then at Xu Yanchi's indifferent profile, the words that came out were just a vague "I...I didn't do anything."
"Didn't you do anything?" Xiao Fuzhou's gaze swept over the scattered books on the floor, then fell on Xu Yanchi's slightly reddened wrist—the mark left from being gripped earlier. His tone was even colder. "Do you need me to check the corridor surveillance footage?"
These words completely shattered Wang Zhitao's defenses. He shrank back, his face turning pale and then red. Finally, he gritted his teeth, glared fiercely at Xu Yanchi, turned around, and stumbled downstairs, forgetting even to pick up his schoolbag that had fallen to the ground.
The stairwell finally fell silent, save for the sound of their breathing. Xiao Fuzhou turned to look at Xu Yanchi, his gaze softening instantly. He reached out to touch her wrist, then paused gently, his voice low and soft: "Are you alright? Did he hurt you?"
Xu Yanchi shook her head, bent down to pick up the book from the ground, and wiped the dust off the pages with her fingertips before whispering, "I'm fine, just... a little dazed." Her composure just now was like a shell she was forcing; with Xiao Fuzhou beside her now, the panic hidden deep inside her slowly surfaced, and her fingertips were still trembling slightly.
Xiao Fuzhou didn't ask any further questions. He simply took the books from her hand, put them in his own bag, then lifted her bag by the shoulder strap and handed it to her: "Let's go, I'll take you home."
Xu Yanchi looked up at him. The setting sun's light fell on his profile, softening his earlier coldness. She pursed her lips, softly hummed in agreement, and followed him downstairs. Their footsteps echoed softly in the stairwell. Neither of them mentioned what had just happened, but Xu Yanchi knew in her heart that some things had shattered completely the moment Wang Zhitao reached out and grabbed her wrist—such as the simple friendship they had once believed in, and her trust in Wang Zhitao's "frankness"—all had vanished, leaving only a clear mark of "betrayal."
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