Chapter 61: Distortion

She sat by the flowerbed, wildly imagining, until her hands trembled with excitement; even though the scene had never truly occurred, merely picturing it in her mind had already granted her immense satisfaction.

Yet after a moment, just as that satisfaction began to fade, another wave of intense shame surged into her heart, making her wish she could immediately slap herself several times.

Yang Yi, oh Yang Yi, pathetic Yang Yi, can you only restore your self-respect through a man? Through a strange, illusory love, through a grand prize that could vanish at any moment, to compensate for your damaged face and insulted vanity? Where is your sense of shame? Do you not feel disgraced?

You actually imagined bringing Chen Chen Huanyue before them to show off, to strut arrogantly? Not only is this ridiculous, but it is also utterly pathetic.

You have nothing presentable to offer, yet you want to rely on a man—and a man who may not even belong to you—to prove your worth, prove you possess merits, prove the meaning of your existence!

You might as well die; you might as well commit suicide; proving through death that you could not bear humiliation would be more dignified than proving yourself through a man's illusory love.

She had never hated herself as much as in this moment, hating everything about herself, hating her parents, hating her family, hating her poverty, hating her weakness, cowardice, and incompetence! Hating her vanity, hating her inferiority.

She even hated Chen Chen Huanyue; why had he injected this splash of color into her pale life, giving her excessive fantasies, giving her extravagant hopes?

If I had never possessed anything, I would not be so panicked; it is you who made my desolate life appear even more desolate.

Her hands clenched tightly, her fingernails nearly piercing her palms; she kept her head lowered, biting her lower lip until it nearly bled.

Sky gradually darkened; classmates came and went all around, yet no one noticed the girl resting by the flowerbed, nor the turbulent storms raging within her heart.

After a long while, she finally came to her senses; the sky had already turned completely dark.

Blankly, she carried two thermos flasks through the campus.

Look, why are they so carefree? Why am I always so sorrowful and worried?

Look at that couple; how at ease are the expressions on their faces as they playfully frolic past her—while she does not even dare to walk openly alongside Chen Chen Huanyue.

Look at that group of girls returning with bulging supermarket shopping bags; she never dares to buy so many snacks at the supermarket, and every time she goes, she silently calculates the prices on the labels in her heart.

Look at those two girls ahead; one wears a snow-white gauze dress, the other a mini-skirt; they are confident and flamboyant, freely radiating the unique charm belonging to girls of this age, while she—she looks down at her own deformed, washed-out gray T-shirt, denim capri pants, and flat sandals costing thirty-five yuan.

Not only does she lack money to dress herself up, but she also forever only dares to wear conventional clothes, not even daring to expose a little more skin.

Inferiority surrounds her every moment; timidity and shabbiness emerge from every cautious glance, every shrinking movement, every deliberate tone of voice, even from every pore and every strand of hair.

She thought of Chen Chen Huanyue; she did not know what feelings she held for him—did she love him? It did not seem so.

It should mostly be gratitude; gratitude that he added a bit of brilliance and fantasy to her sorrowful life, giving her pale existence a touch of vibrant color.

Although she always suspected his motives for approaching her—perhaps to laugh at her, perhaps a high-and-mighty Young Master experiencing the life of the lower class, perhaps a superior form of pity akin to a prince falling for Cinderella—after all, he had truly entered her life, had he not?

Yes, she had never harbored any expectations for them; there was no future between them; how could the two of them possibly have any future?

They could only meet within this ivory tower, in this place that cared least about each other's identity, status, and class, to have a timely, pure romance unadulterated by other interests or material concerns, and then go their separate ways, returning to their original strata and lives.

This was her expectation for the future.

She had fetched two flasks of hot water, but did not wish to return to the dormitory; perhaps she did not want to face their faces, or perhaps she did not want to face the emotions they would cause to surge within her again.

Thus, carrying the two flasks of hot water, she wandered aimlessly through the campus, not knowing where to go, not knowing what to do, without goal, without direction, walking alone, utterly solitary.

At this moment, she even missed Chen Chen Huanyue somewhat; even if he was deceiving her—deceiving her would be fine; his gentle smile, his soft words, his tender attitude, his mild demeanor could smooth away her current hesitation, generating a bit of warmth within her empty heart—even if it was a poison-like warmth.

Where was he now? What was he doing?

For the first time, she wanted to take the initiative to contact him, to give him a call, to ask what he was doing; even if she could not see him, merely hearing his voice, receiving an ordinary sentence, soliciting a couple of words of comfort would be enough to liberate her from this loneliness and hesitation.

But she did not want to make the call; she feared becoming accustomed to his presence, accustomed to his comfort, accustomed to relying on him; once lost, she would find it even harder to endure; for now, at least, she could still hold on.

Moreover, she made herself remain reserved like a Princess, arrogant like a Queen, thereby maintaining a dignity even stronger than that of Princesses and Queens—even though at this moment she was penniless and insignificant, spiritually she was absolutely noble, even arrogant.

But secretly, in a corner of her heart that she would never admit, a bubble surfaced fleetingly: "Chen Chen Huanyue, why don't you contact me? At this very moment, why do you not take the initiative to contact me?... I am waiting for your call... even sending a text message would be fine..."

As soon as this bubble rose, she shattered it; she absolutely refused to allow herself even a sliver of excessive hope.

Do not think of him! Do not let his name appear in your heart; his figure, his face, his smile, his words, his everything, do not let any of it arise!

This is weakness! This is incompetence! This is meaningless fantasy!

Think of your professional knowledge, think of the part-time job you must work tomorrow, or even think of the key points for the final exam; these down-to-earth things are what you can truly grasp.

She carried the thermos flasks across more than half the campus; finally, her arms grew sore, her legs tired, her body drained of strength, and her heart calmed down; just as she prepared to return to the dormitory, Chen Chen Huanyue called instead.

"Xiao Yi, where are you?" His gentle tone seemed to hold a hint of excitement.

"I am..." Her tone rose slightly, but she quickly noticed this and forcibly made her voice sound plain, "I am fetching hot water."

"That's good; I'll come find you." Having said this, he hung up the phone.

Yang Yi stood there blankly, not knowing what had happened, but she quickly carried the two buckets of hot water to the route between the dormitory and the water station, making herself appear perfectly normal.

As soon as Chen Chen Huanyue saw her, a smile spread across his face; his Bai Xi complexion even turned a thin red from excitement; he snatched the thermos flasks from Yang Yi's hands, even forgetting that Yang Yi always kept her distance from him in crowded places, and regardless, he casually grabbed an unfamiliar male classmate, smilingly asking him to deliver the flasks to the entrance of Yang Yi's dormitory building.

That male classmate agreed—Chen Chen Huanyue always possessed such talent, easily making people obey his instructions without feeling annoyed, but rather feeling honored.

Then he pulled her hand and walked toward the school gate, with an excitement and anticipation he could barely conceal; this was the first time she had ever seen him so unsteady.

"Where are we going?" she asked, somewhat uneasily.

"Let's go eat a meal," he said mysteriously, then seemed to find his own tone somewhat amusing and smiled embarrassedly, "Let's go, let's go; you'll know once we get there."

Puzzled and uneasy, she was pulled by him to the school gate, where a stretched black sedan waited there—she did not recognize the brand at all, but guessed it was extremely expensive, expensive to an astronomical figure she dared not imagine—and Chen Chen Huanyue was actually pulling her toward that car.

She became even more uneasy; she stopped in her tracks, pulled her hand free from his, "What is going on? Where are you taking me?"

Her heart began pounding wildly, and she did not know why it beat so fast—only later did she understand that it was fear of about to witness a huge chasm she had deliberately avoided thinking about or looking at on ordinary days.

"My mother is passing through our city on a business trip; hearing that I am in a relationship, she casually came to treat us to a meal," he said, striving to use a very ordinary tone, as if this were a common matter, as ordinary as attending a professional class tomorrow morning.

But his uncontrollable jubilant tone, that excited expression, that performance of a little boy wanting to show off his proudest achievement to his mother, was sufficient to explain his anticipation for this event.

Yang Yi's heart kept sinking, panicking and struggling, continuously sinking.

She did not know what she was thinking in her head at that time; she only remembered incessantly stepping backward, wanting to flee, as if she were not going to meet her boyfriend's mother, but rather the most terrifying monster in the world.

"What's wrong? Xiao Yi, don't worry; my mother is the gentlest!" Chen Chen Huanyue finally noticed her face had turned deathly pale; he hurriedly stopped in his tracks, his usually sharp tongue becoming clumsy:

"It's nothing; it's just an ordinary meal; she is just an ordinary middle-aged woman; don't be afraid... Or, or, let's just not go? Come, let's return to school... I'll give her a call to explain..."

Ignoring that his mother's car was only a few steps away, Chen Chen Huanyue immediately half-embraced Yang Yi and walked back, constantly offering anxious comfort: "Don't worry; this is nothing; my mother is just curious... she came along on a business trip... she means nothing by it..."

Yang Yi was covered in cold sweat as if drowning, yet she still grabbed Chen Chen Huanyue firmly, as if grasping a lifesaving straw; she strove to keep her lips from trembling so much: "You go back... your mother is waiting for you; I am fine; nothing is wrong... I will return to the dormitory myself..."

But Chen Chen Huanyue stubbornly refused to let her leave alone—possibly because her complexion had worsened to an extreme point; he insisted on escorting her back to the dormitory, until she was nearly crying from anxiety.

Just as the two were struggling, a lady stepped down from the stretched sedan and called out softly, "What is going on here?"

"Mom, Xiao Yi... she's not feeling well. I want to take her back to the dorm..." Chen Chen Huanyue hurriedly explained, attributing their tugging to himself.

The lady was slender and well-preserved, looking only about thirty. She walked over at a leisurely pace, glanced carefully at Yang Yi, and said considerately, "Sigh, silly son, your girlfriend isn't feeling well! Come, there are sanitary supplies and hot drinks in the car..." As she spoke, she naturally took her hand and led her toward the car.

By this moment, she had actually calmed down as if she were a monk who had achieved great enlightenment, and at the same time, she silently made a decision in her heart. It was precisely this decision that supported her sudden return to composure.

What was there to fear? At worst, she would be picked apart, humiliated, and scrutinized. It might be a condescending humiliation, or a gentle yet firm criticism disguised as a soft breeze and rain, or an implication with hidden meaning. In any case, it would not escape these routines—and besides, she had already made that decision. What was there to fear?

They arrived in the car. It was the first time in her life she had sat in such a luxurious vehicle—but now she had almost forgotten everything about the situation inside the car. It seemed her mother and son had said something, and it seemed they had asked her something. She could not remember how she had answered. What she remembered most clearly was her own rigid body and a cup of sweet flower tea.

They went to a luxury chain hotel to eat—she only suddenly remembered now that it was the Lihao Grand Hotel—but at that time she had hardly noticed this. She had been thinking constantly about how to deal with the various insults and mockery that were about to come.

Just like the imagined confrontation while sitting on the flower bed, she once again envisioned herself being insulted. Ideally, she would be thoroughly humiliated: like in a TV drama, money thrown in her face, a check disdainfully tossed onto her body, or a cup of tea splashed over her head. Even worse, a bowl of hot soup poured from head to toe over her face—this would give her a reason to leave with the high-mindedness of a female protagonist in a TV drama, leaving them with a proud, solitary back view.

So, she tried hard to appear neither humble nor arrogant, neither overly cold nor overly flattering, neither overly talkative nor too quiet. This was far too difficult for her; it was almost the hardest part of the dinner table.

But it did not happen. None of her imaginings came true. Chen Chen Huanyue's mother was kind and dignified. Except for occasional glances containing a few threads of instinctive scrutiny toward her son's girlfriend, she was calm and gentle at all other times.

Gratitude and loss appeared in her heart simultaneously. She hated her own gratitude. She felt like a slave who was grateful to tears after being given a piece of moldy bread by a slave master.

Regarding her own sense of loss, she felt another kind of sorrow. She tragically realized that her character and personality had been twisted, completely twisted by this poverty and by this damn fate.