Thursday started normal enough that Jiang Yue almost believed it would stay that way.
Wei walked with him to school, half a step apart. The air was cold, the pavement damp from last night's rain. They didn't talk, but the silence felt steady instead of strained.
At the gate, Wei's phone buzzed once.
Wei didn't check it.
Jiang Yue noticed anyway, because Jiang Yue noticed everything now.
In first period, Teacher Gao assigned a timed quiz. Jiang Yue actually finished it. He didn't ace it, but he finished.
Wei glanced at his paper when Teacher Gao collected them and gave the smallest nod.
It should've felt good.
It did, for about three minutes.
Then the whispering started.
It wasn't loud. It never was at first. Just the small sound of information moving through a room like smoke.
Someone behind Jiang Yue muttered, "Did you see it?"
Another voice: "It's in the group chat."
A third: "No way."
Jiang Yue's stomach tightened.
Xu Zhe, two rows over, turned halfway around and met Jiang Yue's eyes.
His expression was tight.
Warning.
Jiang Yue's hands went cold.
At break, he didn't wait. He stood up and walked straight out of the classroom.
In the hallway, students were clustered around phones like moths around light.
Jiang Yue pushed through without apologizing.
A screen flashed in front of him.
A screenshot.
From a private chat.
We'll meet at the library tomorrow. Same place. Don't be late.
The sender name was blurred, but the profile picture wasn't.
Wei's profile picture.
A simple gray default icon. But everyone at school recognized it because Wei never changed it, never decorated his online presence, never gave people anything personal to grab.
Until now.
Below the message was another line.
And the receiver name wasn't blurred at all.
Jiang Yue.
His blood went cold.
He stared at the screenshot until the words stopped being words and became a noise in his head.
Library.
Same place.
Don't be late.
On their own, the lines were nothing.
But in a school starving for scandal, it wasn't about what the lines said.
It was about what they could be made to mean.
A boy behind him laughed. "So it wasn't just tutoring."
A girl said, voice too bright, "They're so obvious."
Someone else murmured, "Isn't that illegal? They're stepbrothers."
Jiang Yue's vision tunneled.
His hands clenched so hard his nails cut into his palms.
He could feel his heartbeat in his ears.
He should walk away.
He should ignore it.
He should let Teacher Gao's cover story do its job.
Then he saw Lu Qian.
Not in the cluster, but a few steps away, leaning against the wall, watching the crowd with a calm satisfaction that made Jiang Yue's stomach flip.
Lu Qian wasn't laughing.
He was observing.
Like a person watching a machine he'd just set in motion.
Jiang Yue's body moved before his brain approved.
He walked straight toward Lu Qian.
Lu Qian's eyes flicked to him, amused. "Hey."
Jiang Yue stopped too close. "Did you post it."
Lu Qian blinked exaggeratedly. "Post what?"
Jiang Yue's voice was low. "The screenshot."
Lu Qian's smile widened. "What screenshot? I don't know what you're talking about."
Jiang Yue leaned in slightly, voice like a blade. "You're hovering around every rumor like a fly."
Lu Qian's eyes sharpened. "Careful. That's not very top-thirty-five of you."
Jiang Yue went still.
Lu Qian knew his rank.
Of course he did. Everyone did. But Lu Qian saying it like that—like Jiang Yue's improvement was a joke—lit something hot in Jiang Yue's chest.
Lu Qian continued, casual. "Why are you so nervous? If you're just studying, it's fine."
Jiang Yue stared at him.
And in that moment, he understood Tang Ruo's warning.
The clean way didn't work against people like this because people like this didn't care about truth.
They cared about reaction.
They cared about watching you bleed.
Jiang Yue took a slow breath.
He forced his face into a bored expression. "You're right," he said lightly.
Lu Qian blinked.
Jiang Yue shrugged. "It is fine."
Lu Qian studied him, trying to read the shift. "So you're not mad."
Jiang Yue smiled, lazy and empty. "Why would I be. It's embarrassing for you, not me."
Lu Qian's eyes narrowed. "For me?"
Jiang Yue nodded toward the crowd. "You wanted attention and you got it. Congrats. Now everyone knows you're the kind of person who screenshots private messages. That's pathetic."
Lu Qian's smile faltered for the first time.
Jiang Yue leaned closer, voice low enough that only Lu Qian could hear. "And if you did it to me, you've done it to other people. So now, anytime anyone's private chat leaks, everyone's going to look at you."
Lu Qian's eyes hardened. "You think you're clever."
Jiang Yue held his gaze. "I know what you are."
Lu Qian pushed off the wall, stepping into Jiang Yue's space. "Watch your mouth."
Jiang Yue didn't move. "Or what? You'll screenshot me breathing?"
Lu Qian's jaw flexed.
Then footsteps approached.
Shen Yichen.
He stopped a few steps away, eyes cold. "What are you doing."
Lu Qian's expression smoothed instantly, like he'd put on a different face. "Nothing. Just talking."
Shen's gaze flicked to Jiang Yue, warning. Then to Lu Qian, threat. "Go."
Lu Qian smiled sweetly. "Sure."
He walked away slowly, not rushing, like someone who knew he'd already thrown the match.
Shen turned to Jiang Yue, voice tight. "Don't do this here."
Jiang Yue's hands trembled. "He did it."
Shen's jaw tightened. "Maybe. But you don't have proof."
Jiang Yue stared at him. "So we just let it happen?"
Shen's eyes flashed. "We let Wei handle it."
Jiang Yue laughed once, bitter. "Wei handles everything. That's the problem."
Shen's expression cracked for half a second, like the truth hurt him too.
Then Shen said, low, "Go back to class. I'll talk to Wei."
Jiang Yue's chest tightened. "Don't—"
Shen cut him off. "Just go."
Jiang Yue swallowed hard and turned away, walking back to the classroom before his hands could do something stupid.
He sat down.
His pen shook in his grip.
In front of him, Wei sat still, writing like nothing was wrong.
Then Wei's phone buzzed again.
Wei finally checked it.
His gaze flicked over the screen.
Jiang Yue watched Wei's shoulders go rigid.
Watched Wei's pen stop.
Watched Wei go very, very still.
Then Wei stood up.
The chair scraped.
The whole class looked up.
Wei didn't say a word. He walked out of the classroom calmly, like he was going to the bathroom.
But Jiang Yue knew that calm.
That calm was the mask you wore when you were about to do something irreversible.
Jiang Yue's pulse spiked.
He stood up immediately.
Teacher Gao's voice snapped, "Jiang Yue. Sit down."
Jiang Yue froze.
Every eye in the room turned to him.
Teacher Gao's gaze was sharp. "Where are you going."
Jiang Yue's mouth went dry.
He couldn't say: to stop Wei from exploding.
He said, "Bathroom."
Teacher Gao stared at him for a long beat.
Then she said, coldly, "Two minutes. If you're not back, I'm calling your parents."
Jiang Yue nodded and walked out.
His legs felt heavy.
In the hallway, he saw Wei at the end of the corridor near the stairwell.
Not moving fast. Just walking with purpose.
Shen was with him, speaking low.
Wei's face was calm, but his eyes were dark and focused. Not hurt anymore.
Deciding.
Jiang Yue approached.
Wei's gaze flicked to him and held for half a second.
Jiang Yue's chest tightened.
Wei didn't say don't this time.
He just said, very quietly, "Stay behind me."
Jiang Yue went cold. "Wei—"
Wei repeated, without looking away, "Stay behind me."
That wasn't a request.
That was Wei's version of protection.
It terrified Jiang Yue more than the screenshot did.
Because it meant Wei was about to confront someone, and Wei was taking Jiang Yue with him, but shielding him like a bodyguard.
Shen's expression was grim. "Lu Qian."
Jiang Yue's jaw clenched.
Wei's voice was flat. "I know."
They turned toward the east stairwell—the mop-smell one, the one nobody used.
The one with no witnesses.
The one where truth happened when the school wasn't watching.
And Jiang Yue realized, as they walked, that Tang Ruo was right.
This wasn't about studying or dating.
This was about control.
And someone had just forced Wei Nianzhan—who hated losing control more than anything—to choose between swallowing humiliation and doing something messy.
Jiang Yue didn't know which choice Wei would make.
But he knew one thing with terrible clarity.
Whatever happened in that stairwell, the school would feel it afterward.