Zeng Shunxi and Wu Xinxi walked with their heads ducked low, slipping through the campus like fugitives. Ever since the singing competition, they had become "famous"—
No, notorious.
Their duo, nicknamed "Pancake & Fried Dough Stick," had gone viral. Videos of their disastrous performance were everywhere. No matter where they went, people snickered behind their hands, whispering and pointing.
It was obvious they'd never win first place now. They couldn't force Mo Lü to apologize. Instead, they'd let him play them like clowns.
And just as they were thinking of him, the devil himself appeared.
"Hey, Fried Dough Stick!" Mo Lü greeted cheerfully.
Seriously? The campus was huge—before this, they could never bump into him even on purpose. Wu Xinxi had studied his entire schedule and stalked every route just to confess to him, yet he was impossible to find back then. But now? He could pop out of thin air just to mock them. And thanks to the viral video, "Pancake & Fried Dough Stick" had spread across the whole school, along with all the imitators happily chanting the nickname he created.
"Fried Dough Stick" had become a stain Shunxi couldn't scrub off.
She shot him a glare and strode past him.
But Mo Lü—of course—caught up.
"By the way, I heard I still owe your friend an apology. Want me to deliver it now?"
"Get lost!" Shunxi shoved him aside, dragged Wu Xinxi with her, and ran.
She had nothing left to retort with. She had agreed to the competition on impulse; if she said she'd win first place and make him apologize, then she had to do it. Now that they had lost miserably, she could only swallow her humiliation.
One thing was certain: her feud with Mo Lü was set in stone. They were mortal enemies now—never under the same sky.
Mo Lü watched her leave and couldn't help laughing. Just catching a glimpse of her and calling her "Fried Dough Stick," watching her get mad enough to grind her teeth—
That alone could make his whole day.
Later that afternoon—
"Baby, where are we going later? The bar or your apartment?"
Guo Chouyan appeared right after Mo Lü's last class, throwing her arms around his waist from behind, her voice dripping with sugary affection.
Mo Lü jumped, yanking her arms off him.
"Cut it out! Stop calling me that. And don't touch me."
"What's wrong? Aren't you going to be mine sooner or later?" Chouyan blinked dramatically, her heavy mascara fluttering like wings as she pressed herself against him.
Mo Lü stepped back, slung his backpack over one shoulder, and headed for the door.
"Where are you going?" she chased after him.
"The library," he said, choosing the first lie that came to mind.
Chouyan burst out laughing.
"Oh, please. The only time you went there was to talk to my brother. You don't even look like someone who reads."
It was true, but that didn't make the jab hurt any less. He stopped and snapped,
"What do you want from me? I already did what you asked—I became the Literature Department president for you. The singing contest is over, the department has nothing left to do. Can't you leave me alone? Give me some peace?"
Guo Chouyan, always proud, always worshipped, had never been rejected like this. Her ego shattered. Without warning, right in the middle of campus with crowds walking by, she burst into loud, dramatic sobs. Her smoky makeup ran instantly, turning her into a full panda-faced spectacle.
People stopped. A lot of people.
Mo Lü panicked. They were both well-known in student council—this was a disaster. He rushed to hand her tissues.
"Why… why don't you like me?" she choked out.
The circle of onlookers grew. Mo Lü forced a gentle voice.
"I never said I didn't like you."
"Then why won't you let me stay by your side? Are you going to see some other girl?" she demanded.
"I—"
He hadn't said he liked her either.
But he had to end this circus. He sighed and coaxed,
"You're a pretty girl. You should act with some dignity. Guys should be the ones chasing you—not the other way around, okay?"
Chouyan's tears stopped instantly. She brightened, wiping her face.
"Got it!"
Then, loud enough for everyone to hear:
"Then I'll give you a chance to chase me. Don't keep me waiting!"
She skipped away happily.
Mo Lü stood there, speechless, as the crowd dispersed. He finally exhaled—
Until he turned and noticed two familiar faces among the spectators.
Zeng Shunxi and Wu Xinxi.
Both staring at him like they had just caught the city's most notorious playboy red-handed.
"Uh… hey, Fried Dough—"
"Scumbag."
Shunxi shot the label at him like a dagger and walked off without hesitation.
"See? You still like that type of guy?" she said to Wu Xinxi afterward, fuming.
"All he does is pose, act cool, flirt everywhere, and trick naïve girls. He's pathetic!"
Her dislike for Mo Lü deepened. Everything about him irritated her. She wanted nothing to do with him ever again—and she warned Wu Xinxi to stay far, far away from him.