Chapter 12: Gossip and Turmoil

Fu Siqiao sat in the study, her eyes fixed on her phone screen as messages flooded the campus forum like a rising tide. Her phone buzzed incessantly, the rapid-fire notification pings sounding as if they might shatter the device.

The news that Xu Zhixing had stepped in to debunk the rumors hit the forum like a bombshell.

"I am not interested in anyone."

The statement was short and powerful, accompanied by a photograph of Xu Zhixing. In the image, her skin was as fair as snow, and her long, raven-black hair cascaded softly over her shoulders, the tips curled slightly, with a few strands resting playfully against her delicate collarbone. Her eyebrows were slender and graceful, like willow leaves, framing a pair of deep, bright eyes. At this moment, they held a look of determination and composure, her long lashes casting soft shadows like delicate fans against her lids. Her bridge of her nose was high and elegant, like a beautiful mountain peak, with a slightly upturned tip that added a touch of charm. Her soft, pink lips were pressed together, as if silently emphasizing the truth of her words. She wore a simple white shirt with an exquisite black bow tied at the collar, lending her an air of elegance. The sleeves were rolled up slightly, revealing her slim, fair wrists; her fingers, long and well-defined, rested casually on the table before her, her nails neatly trimmed and coated in clear polish, catching the light with a faint luster.

The students were taken aback by this rebuttal. The forum, which had been bustling with wild guesses and baseless conjectures, fell into a brief, stunned silence as if everyone were digesting the sudden revelation.

But soon, the comment section erupted again.

"The school beauty is debunking the rumors herself. It seems she really was troubled by them."

"But she’s so outstanding, how could she not have anyone she likes?"

Fu Siqiao looked at these comments, realizing that these people truly didn't care about the harm of gossip, even after the person involved had stepped forward to clarify. Forget it, she thought; she would not stoop to their level. Such baseless rumors must have been a great burden to her.

Determined, Fu Siqiao decided to stand with Xu Zhixing. Her slender fingers flew across the screen as she typed: "I believe Xu Zhixing. She has always been focused on her own affairs, and these rumors are truly excessive. Everyone, please don't speculate about someone's personal life based on groundless hearsay."

After sending it, Fu Siqiao reposted Xu Zhixing’s statement on her own social media account, attaching a candid photo she had once taken of the two of them on campus. In the picture, Fu Siqiao stood beside Xu Zhixing with a faint smile.

She was wearing a light blue dress that swayed in the breeze like a blooming flower. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, with a few stray wisps dancing near her cheeks, highlighting her youthful vitality. Her eyes were bright and clear, radiating sincerity and friendliness.

Fu Siqiao’s support quickly caused a stir on the campus forum. Some students who had been on the fence began to chime in.

"Fu Siqiao is right; we shouldn't believe in rumors so easily."

"Supporting Xu Zhixing and Fu Siqiao! Stop the rumors!"

However, some remained skeptical.

"Why is Fu Siqiao so eager to speak for Xu Zhixing? Do they have some special relationship?"

"Maybe Fu Siqiao is just trying to suck up to the school beauty."

Faced with this skepticism, Fu Siqiao did not back down. She replied in the forum again: "I am merely speaking my mind. I believe Xu Zhixing is a person worthy of trust. We should advocate for a healthy and harmonious environment at school, rather than spreading these false rumors."

Her gaze was firm, her hand gripping the phone tightly as if engaged in a silent battle with the naysayers. As Fu Siqiao continued to speak out, more and more students began to reflect on their own behavior. The tone of the campus forum gradually shifted from gossip and rumor-mongering to discussions about the dangers of misinformation and appeals for a healthier campus discourse.

In the study, as Fu Siqiao was engrossed in a captivating novel, her phone screen lit up with a friend request from Xu Zhixing. She froze for a moment, then a surge of joy washed over her. She stood up so abruptly that her book nearly fell. She hurried to accept, and Xu Zhixing’s message followed immediately: "Thank you for speaking up for me."

Fu Siqiao’s lips curved upward as she quickly replied: "You're welcome. I've never been able to stand people like that anyway."

The two chatted back and forth, from campus anecdotes to dreams of the future, time slipping away until they finally agreed to meet at school the next day. Fu Siqiao put down her phone with a satisfied smile and walked out of the study with a light step.

As she entered the living room, she saw Lin Siqing sitting on the sofa.

Lin Siqing had a cold, distant demeanor, like an iceberg. His refined features looked as if they had been meticulously carved by a sculptor; he wore thin-rimmed glasses perched on his high bridge of his nose, and behind the lenses, his eyes were deep and sharp, as if they could see through everything.

His short, jet-black hair only added to his icy temperament. He wore a simple white shirt paired with black slim-fit trousers, perfectly outlining his lean, tall frame.

Fu Siqiao was intimidated by Lin Siqing’s aura, and her pace slowed instinctively.

Lin Siqing did not look at her, but as his thin lips parted, the words he uttered were unpleasant: "So happy, who are you chatting with?"

Fu Siqiao was naturally timid, and in front of Lin Siqing, she became even more submissive. She lowered her head, nervously twisting the hem of her clothes, not daring to make any unnecessary moves. Like a startled fawn, she hurried back to her room and slammed the door shut with a "bang."

Lin Siqing was leaning lazily on the sofa when his phone lit up—it was a call from Zhang Chenxi. He raised an eyebrow and answered, his relaxed expression gradually turning serious.

"Hello, what is it?"

Lin Siqing’s voice was low and steady. However, as Zhang Chenxi spoke on the other end, his brow furrowed, and a flicker of barely concealed irritation crossed his eyes.

"What did you say? Say it again!"

Lin Siqing’s voice rose involuntarily, his grip on the phone tightening until his knuckles turned white. He stood up abruptly and began pacing the living room, his steps hurried and heavy, creating a faint gust of wind.

"No, that is absolutely impossible!"

Lin Siqing roared into the phone, veins bulging on his forehead, his handsome face twisted with anger. As the argument intensified, his breathing became ragged, his chest heaving.

"Enough!"

Finally, he hung up in a rage and swung his arm, sweeping an exquisite crystal ornament off the nearby coffee table. It shattered with a sharp crash. Still unsatisfied, he kicked the leg of the sofa hard, the dull thud echoing through the silent room like a release of his inner fury.

He stood there with his fists clenched, gasping for air, his eyes burning with a rage that would not subside for a long time.