Chapter 93: Twisted Affection

2022-05-20

Song Zhe was a skinny guy with dark skin. He wore his school uniform and sneakers so faded from countless washes that you could hardly tell what their original color used to be. Dressed like that, he really stood out at university—he looked poor, painfully so.

We asked Director Wang for an office where nobody would disturb us. Inside sat both Zhang Yunhu and Song Zhe. Compared to Zhang Yunhu’s quick wit and Hou Yao’s easygoing confidence, Song Zhe seemed painfully awkward, shifting on his feet and sneaking helpless glances at me and Guan Zengbin.

When Guan Zengbin revealed his identity, Song Zhe froze, a nervous flicker in his eyes. But honestly, this wasn’t unusual—most ordinary people go their whole lives without ever dealing with us. Their first instinct isn’t comfort, it’s a vague, chilly fear. Maybe that’s just how things are.

“Sit down, Song Zhe,” I said from across the desk, watching him struggle to figure out what to do with himself.

He finally sat down. “Why did you call me here? I haven’t done anything. I always keep to myself.”

I set Song Zhe’s diary on the table, flipping through it as I spoke calmly. “Director Wang said no one will come in. That means what happens here stays between the four of us.”

The second he saw the diary, Song Zhe’s face changed. He instinctively reached for it, but when our eyes met, he pulled his hand back, hovering in midair until he mumbled, “It’s not right to read someone else’s diary…”

It’s true—exposing someone’s secrets isn’t good. But finding Liu Feier mattered more than sparing Song Zhe’s feelings.

“So when did it start?” I stared at him.

But Song Zhe just hung his head and mumbled, refusing to answer.

“Speak.” Annoyed by his silence, I slapped the desk.

The sudden noise made Song Zhe jolt. Finally, he began his story.

When someone’s worldview shatters—when they realize the world they thought they knew is a lie—a lot of people end up broken, some even driven to madness or suicide.

For Song Zhe, coming to Dongxing City shattered everything he believed. Growing up without even a TV, he was shocked to discover things like computers. His dream had always been simple: build a house, marry a wife. But suddenly, he found himself in a world where the rich had more houses than anyone could count and kept mistresses like trophies.

To Song Zhe, it was like landing in another universe.

They weren’t the only poor kids in class, but no one was as poor as Song Zhe.

In computer class, Song Zhe timidly leaned over to the student next to him. “How do you turn this thing on?”

“You’ve never even seen a computer?” The classmate’s voice boomed, and everyone nearby erupted with laughter. It cut Song Zhe like a knife, the words gouging into his heart. For the first time, he understood what poets meant by ‘a heart torn to shreds.’ It wasn’t just an empty phrase.

Still, Song Zhe tried smiling along with the joke, thinking maybe, if he laughed with them, he could forget he was the one being laughed at. But no matter what, he was out of place in this world. Sitting quietly in the dorm, he longed to fit in with the others but found their conversations alien.

He’d never heard of League of Legends. Didn’t know a thing about Ferraris. Louis Vuitton and Hermès were just names he couldn’t place.

And meals that cost hundreds of yuan? He honestly couldn’t even imagine it.

Song Zhe said that back in his village, his mother made 300 yuan a month. The others in the dorm refused to believe it; they just said he was stingy. And honestly, even Song Zhe struggled to accept it—his friends’ parents made in a single month what his parents worked all year to earn.

Everyone was convinced their own side of things was real. They lived in completely different worlds, like frogs at the bottom of two separate wells—one battered and crumbling, one overflowing with everything that could be wished for.

If he hadn’t gotten top grades, Song Zhe might have been just like his parents, never leaving the mountains, never realizing how wild and dazzling the outside world could be.

Song Zhe grew quieter with time. His self-respect was slowly crushed by words others thoughtlessly tossed aside. That’s when Zhang Yunhu stepped in. Seeing through Song Zhe’s situation, Zhang Yunhu realized he meant every word. He was kind, too—grabbing the bill before Song Zhe could every time they ate together and making sure Song Zhe got what he needed.

For a rich kid like Zhang Yunhu, money was nothing.

That first year, the gap hit Song Zhe hard. In class, he’d zone out at his desk. Back in the dorm, he stared at the ceiling. He did so badly that year he finished dead last in the class.

Out of nine courses, he flunked eight.

He came close to being expelled.

But then someone entered Song Zhe’s life—Liu Feier, the class’s psych rep. Noticing his quietness, she thought she should try talking to him. Nobody else ever bothered.

Funny thing is, Liu Feier barely had to say a word before Song Zhe opened up. He liked to tell himself he didn’t care to join their world, but really, he was never given a chance to try. He wasn’t antisocial; he just needed someone—anyone—to actually listen.

He’d wanted to be expelled because he knew his parents would never let him drop out on his own.

Liu Feier told him about scholarships. That if you’re good enough, they’ll cover everything—fees, living costs, you name it. Song Zhe was stunned. He’d never heard of anything so generous. But it was too late that year, since the semester was nearly over.

Liu Feier offered to pay his tuition for the year up front. He could pay her back when he had the money.

She shared her own story: her father also came from the mountains, never having seen the world until he left. But now, she said, everyone in Dongxing City thought the world of him.

Poverty was temporary. As long as you worked hard, there was hope.

Back then, Song Zhe thought this girl was an angel sent straight from heaven.

The expulsion notice never came. The school decided to give Song Zhe one more chance.

But then Zhang Yunhu heard about it through Liu Feier. Thinking of himself as Song Zhe’s best bro, he organized a fundraiser for him. That night, they threw a big party—students from other classes, other departments, everyone came.

That event made two people famous: Song Zhe and Zhang Yunhu, the mastermind behind it.

After that night, Zhang Yunhu became the dream guy for half the girls in school—handsome, rich and kind. Who wouldn’t like someone like that?

And Song Zhe became known too, since the university went so far as to waive all four years of his tuition.

Whenever he lined up for lunch in the cafeteria, the cook would tell him, “You’d better study hard, kid. Life might be tough, but a poor man’s spirit shouldn’t break. From now on, you come here and eat for free.”

At the bathhouse, the owner would say, “I know who you are. You’re that boy from the mountains, right? No need to hide it. I came from the mountains too. It all gets better—go ahead, no charge.”

Even the fruit vendor recognized him. “I know you, hadn’t had watermelon in a long while, right? Take the biggest one. It’s on me.”

After that, Song Zhe’s grades never slipped again. Second year, he was top of his major.

But nobody knew—being pitied by everyone hurt him even more than being looked down on.

Everyone thinks kindness gives them the right to get too close. They don’t see the lines people draw.

Kindness only made things harder for Song Zhe. He became both insecure and arrogant, looking down on everyone—including himself.

Except for that angel. Except for Liu Feier.

By now, Song Zhe’s heart had twisted. He started collecting things Liu Feier used, quietly loving her from afar. Empty drink bottles, the benches she sat on—he wanted them all.

Everyone needs something to hold on to. For Song Zhe, it was this.

He knew he’d never really have Liu Feier, but just this—just watching—was a happiness all its own.

She’d promised to cover his tuition herself, but then Zhang Yunhu had to step in.

Now Song Zhe hated Zhang Yunhu—and hated him even more for falling for his goddess. So, desperate, he agreed to Hou Yao’s plan. But in the end, Zhang Yunhu still ended up with Liu Feier.

Song Zhe knew he was beyond saving, but he couldn’t help himself.

When you like someone, you end up loving anything they’ve touched. That’s what Song Zhe told himself.