Chapter Eighteen: She Belongs to Me

When Bai Xu said that, Jiang Muwen only then realized what was happening. Just then, another message popped up in the chat window from a different teammate, and the tone was as explosive as a bomb: “Hey, you playing the healer, are you an idiot or what? If you don’t know how to play, just get lost, okay?”

The moment the message appeared, the three people in the room all noticed it. Jiang Muwen, sensitive by nature—what people often called having a fragile heart—immediately felt her gaze dim, as if she had fallen into an abyss. But she didn’t say anything, pretending not to have seen it.

None of them knew the person who sent the message, and Jiang Muwen was well aware she wasn’t playing well. Besides, she wasn’t about to argue with someone like that, so she simply filtered out the message from her mind.

The room was silent; it seemed everyone had seen the message, but no one spoke.

A second later, a new message appeared in the chat, this time from Wen Yichen: “Watch your mouth. You’re not exactly any better yourself.”

The room remained quiet. The two boys seemed determined not to talk about the argument. They knew Jiang Muwen’s temperament and didn’t want to bring it up, choosing instead to spar with the other player in the game interface.

After Wen Yichen’s message, Bai Xu chimed in as well: “You weren’t even the MVP, and you’ve got the nerve to talk?”

That only made the teammate angrier: “What’s the healer to you two? Who are you to speak up for her?”

Wen Yichen replied, “Sorry, she’s with me.”

That shut the troublemaker up, leaving only a string of “66666” from Bai Xu. With that, the chat filled with messages from everyone.

Suddenly, Jiang Muwen was at a loss. Her ears felt oddly warm. She knew full well that Wen Yichen had probably said it just to provoke the other player, but she still couldn’t help feeling bashful.

After the game ended, the three of them acted as though nothing had happened. No one brought up the quarrel.

“Another round?” Bai Xu asked.

Jiang Muwen quietly exited the game, clearly still shaken by what had just happened. “I’ll pass. You guys play…”

Seeing that Jiang Muwen had left, Wen Yichen tossed his phone lightly onto the bed. “I’m done too. You play by yourself.”

No sooner had he finished speaking than the sound of the door opening was heard, followed by Su Yu’s voice from outside the bedroom: “Piglet, I’m home!”

Hearing this, Wen Yichen’s face stiffened instinctively.

“Oh? Piglet’s still not home?” Su Yu asked curiously.

Right after Su Yu spoke, Wen Yixin’s voice followed: “If you call him that, of course he won’t answer you!”

Wen Yichen’s older brother had come home today as well.

As Su Yu noticed the extra pairs of shoes by the door, two voices called out “Auntie” from the bedroom. Then, Wen Yixin strolled leisurely into Wen Yichen’s room.

When the door opened, Wen Yichen looked up instinctively. “What brings you home today?”

Wen Yixin smiled and closed the door behind him. “Mom practically held a knife to my throat and made me come home for dinner.”

…

After dinner, Bai Xu played for a while before heading home. Wen Yichen and Jiang Muwen walked him to the station.

Only after Bai Xu had gotten on the bus did the two of them turn to head back.

Neither of them spoke on the way home. After a long silence, Wen Yichen finally broke it. “If you didn’t bring your keys… then I guess you’ll have to wait until your parents get back.”

As soon as he’d said it, Wen Yichen realized how pointless it was—of course Jiang Muwen would have to wait for her parents if she didn’t have her keys. What else could she do, climb the wall to get in?

“I…” Jiang Muwen hesitated, glancing up at Wen Yichen before quickly looking away, her words faltering. “My parents are away on vacation… They won’t be back for a few days…”

Wen Yichen’s face stiffened at her words. So, by that logic…

Seeing him fall silent, Jiang Muwen was momentarily anxious. Sensitive as she was, she instinctively thought she’d put Wen Yichen in an awkward spot.

After a moment, she spoke softly, breaking the hush between them. “If you don’t want to…”

“Did I say I didn’t want to?” Wen Yichen interrupted her before she could finish.

Apparently not.

When she didn’t reply, Wen Yichen went on, “I’ll let my mom know in a bit.”

“Sorry to trouble you…”

As Jiang Muwen said this, Wen Yichen’s gaze drifted to her.

“Are we strangers? Why so formal?” he asked casually. To him, since they’d grown up together, letting her stay a few nights at his place was nothing out of the ordinary.

Their eyes met, the lamplight on the street casting a gentle glow that enveloped Wen Yichen in a soft halo. His eyes were clear, his pupils flecked with the golden light of the streetlamp.

Jiang Muwen gazed at him, lost in thought, unaware that inside, her heart was pounding wildly.

Suddenly, Wen Yichen caught a flash of bright light out of the corner of his eye. Though he knew the car wouldn’t hit her, he instinctively drew Jiang Muwen, who was walking on the outside, closer to him.

Jiang Muwen, so absorbed in looking at him, didn’t react at all. She simply stumbled toward Wen Yichen, swept along by his pull.

Two steps later, she found herself tumbling right into his arms.

Happiness came so suddenly she wasn’t prepared for it. She crashed into Wen Yichen, her small hands awkwardly suspended in the air, unsure where to rest.

Her mind buzzed and then went completely blank.

Reason told her to step away, but emotion urged her to savor the moment—such chances didn’t come often.

The two impulses warred within her, leaving Jiang Muwen caught in the middle, not knowing what to do.

Wen Yichen smelled faintly of laundry detergent, not the sharp scent of expensive cologne, but a gentle, clean aroma—the very scent she liked. It reminded her of the budding feelings of first love at fifteen or sixteen, though she had never actually been in love. The fragrance was subtle, with a hint of sweetness.

A rare silence fell over them, so still she could hear the strong, steady beating of a heart—whether it was her own or his, she could no longer tell.