I Fell In Love With My Rival (GL) - Chapter 26.1

For a moment, Fu Erqiu thought she’d misheard. Her steps toward the desk halted, her eyes filled with a hint of surprise. “What did you say?”

Taking advantage of her pause, Su Chunyin quickly slid the phone back into the desk compartment. She looked up at Fu Erqiu and smiled, her tone carrying a coy and ambiguous playfulness. “I knew it. You really had no idea.”

She stood up and hooked a finger into Fu Erqiu’s uniform collar. “Remember? Last semester I tried to bring you breakfast, but you already brought your own. I wrote you lots of letters, but you never accepted them. That bouquet you sold to Ziyue Flower Shop—I was the one who ordered it. And haven’t you ever wondered why I insisted you be my tutor?”

Fu Erqiu stepped back, silent, her eyes locked intently on Su Chunyin’s face.

Su Chunyin didn’t notice her subtle retreat. The moment she returned the phone, she already felt relieved. Looking straight at Fu Erqiu, she cupped her hands around her mouth like a megaphone and declared in a whisper-shout, “It’s fine if you didn’t know. Starting today, I’m officially pursuing you! Fu Erqiu, remember this—today marks Day One of my pursuit!”

Her tactic worked—Fu Erqiu was completely distracted and forgot all about the phone incident.

Back home, Su Chunyin lay on her bed, gleefully squeezing the ears of her plush lop-eared bunny. She felt like a genius. Not only had she dodged the phone crisis, but she also managed to carry out Song Rao’s advice to let Fu Erqiu know about her feelings.

Hugging her bunny, she rolled over, replaying the look of shock on Fu Erqiu’s face when she made her declaration. That expression had been so rare on her usually cold and unreadable face—it was unforgettable. If she ever had the chance, Su Chunyin thought, she’d love to see it again.

That evening, Fu Erqiu had been especially quiet as she left, clearly shaken. She packed up her books and phone in silence, and didn’t even spare Su Chunyin a glance as she walked out of the classroom.

Su Chunyin had wanted to walk home with her, but figured Fu Erqiu probably needed time to process everything—so she considerately let her go without a word.

Thinking of this, Su Chunyin sat up, grabbed her phone, and messaged Fu Erqiu:

[Have you gone to bed yet?]

There was no reply. Undeterred, she sent another:

[You’ve seemed really tired lately. Make sure to get plenty of rest and sleep early.]

Still no response. So she added:

[Good night, see you tomorrow.]

No reply again. With a glance, Su Chunyin tossed the phone beside her pillow.

She opened her treasure box and pulled out a cherished notebook.

It was old and worn, the yellowing paper fragile compared to the rest of the keepsakes inside—but it was one of her treasures nonetheless. Alongside the notebook were meteorite fragments she’d collected since childhood, all carefully preserved.

Su Chunyin didn’t keep a diary regularly. She only wrote in it when something truly significant happened, or when her emotions were particularly strong.

The notebook, decorated with a faded My Little Pony cover, was a birthday gift from Xu Yuhui when she was six. She had kept it in excellent condition ever since.

Flipping through the earlier pages revealed scattered notes from her childhood. Only in the latter half did the entries become more emotional—more like a true journal.

She turned to a blank page and carefully wrote at the top:

Day One

This was the first official day she had declared her pursuit of Fu Erqiu. It felt right to mark it with a bit of ceremony.

She originally intended to jot down just a few lines, but once she started writing, she couldn’t stop. The words flowed effortlessly. After finishing the page, she read it back with satisfaction.

Then she flipped to the previous entry.

Though today was officially “Day One,” she had been building up to it for quite a while. In truth, the previous page recorded the real start of her pursuit.

On that yellowed sheet, a number stood out:

Sixty-five.

“Sixty-five days…” Su Chunyin whispered, touching the page.

From here on out, she was determined—she would win Fu Erqiu over.

________________________________________

The next day after class reassignments was the school’s autumn outing.

It was a tradition at Jiangcheng No.1 High School for each class to organize an autumn trip at the start of the school year. Since the second-year students had just been reassigned into new classes, their trip was scheduled a week later than the others.

Fresh off summer vacation, the students were still in play mode, so the school-organized outing was something everyone eagerly looked forward to.

Su Chunyin was no exception. After waking up, she messaged Fu Erqiu a cheerful greeting:

[Good morning!]

Then followed up with a reminder:

[Today’s the autumn outing—don’t forget to meet at the school gate at 8 a.m. sharp!]

Fu Erqiu still didn’t reply, but Su Chunyin didn’t mind. She closed the WeChat app and grabbed her toothbrush, heading to the bathroom to wash up.

She had made up her mind: from now on, she would send “good morning” and “good night” messages to Fu Erqiu every single day, to prove her sincerity.

________________________________________

At 8 a.m., the school gate was lined with parked buses for the autumn outing. Each homeroom teacher stood in front of their respective bus, checking attendance.

This year’s outing destination was Linming Mountain, a well-known scenic area on the outskirts of Jiangcheng. It was a three-hour round trip, so the school arranged buses for transportation.

Class 1 was accompanied by two teachers—one of them the young teacher who had given their first class after reassignments, and the other a young female teacher. The older teachers had little interest in a hike, so the job had naturally fallen to the younger ones.

“Song Rao!” — “Here!”

“Sun Zening!” — “Here!”

“Chen Yu!” — “Here!”

“Li Zihan!” — “Here!”

“Su Chunyin!” — “Here!”

As the teacher in charge continued to call names, Su Chunyin couldn’t help glancing repeatedly toward the back. There was still no sign of Fu Erqiu among those lined up—was she not planning to come?

The two young teachers finished roll call and double-checked the list. Aside from three students who had applied for leave and one who had gone to the restroom, only Fu Erqiu was still missing.

The lead teacher glanced at his watch. “Everyone, board the bus first. We’ll wait another fifteen minutes. I’ll call Fu Erqiu’s family shortly. If she still hasn’t arrived by the time the student in the restroom returns, we’ll leave without her.”

Fortunately, before the fifteen minutes were up, Fu Erqiu boarded the bus.

She still wore a mask and a baseball cap, but the dark circles under her eyes had faded somewhat. Maybe she had actually followed Su Chunyin’s advice to rest.

By the time she came in, the bus was packed. At a glance, there didn’t seem to be a single open seat. She stood by the entrance, scanned the space, and began walking toward the back.

There was no seat available next to Su Chunyin—Song Rao sat on her left, and Li Zihan on her right. Su Chunyin only peeked out to watch Fu Erqiu’s movements. But Song Rao wasn’t the quiet type—she waved enthusiastically from a few rows away. “Fu Erqiu! Over here! Sit with me!”

Naturally, Fu Erqiu turned toward the sound and looked in Su Chunyin’s direction.

Song Rao patted the seat beneath her and then patted Su Chunyin’s shoulder, winking. “Fu Erqiu, come sit with me! I saved you a prime spot!”

And it was a prime spot—mid-bus and by the window. Not prone to motion sickness, a great view outside, and a wide enough angle to see nearly the entire bus.

Song Rao didn’t expect refusal, but Fu Erqiu merely glanced over, then looked away and continued walking toward the back.

As she passed by Su Chunyin’s row, their shoulders nearly brushed. Song Rao blinked in confusion and leaned over to whisper, “What did you do to Fu Erqiu? I swear it feels like she’s avoiding you.”

Song Rao’s suspicion was soon confirmed. The road to the field trip location was long and relatively smooth at first. Bored students soon looked for ways to entertain themselves.

Song Rao pulled out a deck of cards to rally people for a game; Li Zihan passed around a huge bag of snacks; the teacher distributed bottled water. Every time it came to handing something to Fu Erqiu, Song Rao slyly encouraged Su Chunyin to do it herself.

Su Chunyin, determined to chase after Fu Erqiu after her bold declaration the night before, wasn’t about to waste any chance to get close. But every time she approached, Fu Erqiu politely refused.

She didn’t play cards, wasn’t hungry, wasn’t thirsty… But Su Chunyin saw clearly—when Fu Erqiu briefly pulled down her mask, her lips were dry and chapped.

Just then, a girl sitting beside Fu Erqiu handed her a bottle of water. “I saw you brought some medicine. You can’t take pills without water.” Fu Erqiu hesitated for a second—then accepted it.

That clinched it—Su Chunyin was certain now. Fu Erqiu was definitely avoiding her.

But why?

It made no sense. Sure, they’d had some conflict before, but things had gotten much closer between them recently. Why was she still acting distant?

Was it because of last night? Su Chunyin recalled her grand confession and felt wronged. Fu Erqiu clearly likes girls—shouldn’t she be happy someone is pursuing her? Why act like I’m the plague?

Ironically, if Fu Erqiu had just accepted her kindness calmly, Su Chunyin might have backed off. But now that she was putting on this cold front, it only made Su Chunyin more determined.

If the mountain won’t come to her, then she’d go to the mountain.

Fu Erqiu didn’t sit next to Song Rao, so Su Chunyin switched places with the girl beside her. The girl didn’t mind—Su Chunyin’s previous spot wasn’t bad, so they traded without fuss.

Even if Fu Erqiu kept ignoring her, Su Chunyin simply made her presence known. She munched on snacks, guzzled water, played loud mobile games, and joked rowdily with Song Rao over cards—all right by her side.

When the bus finally arrived, the teachers again did a headcount. “There are 36 of us today,” one teacher began. “Even though this mountain park is well-developed, to prevent anyone from getting lost or injured, we’ll be forming groups of three. Each member is responsible for the others’ safety and whereabouts. If something happens to one person, the other two must report it immediately. Understood?”

A loud, unified “Got it!” echoed through the bus.

The teacher nodded. “Discuss among yourselves and choose your group. Come here to register once you’re ready.”

Naturally, Song Rao chose Su Chunyin as her teammate. Still missing a third, she nudged Su Chunyin to invite Fu Erqiu. Su Chunyin glanced at Fu Erqiu’s impassive, icy face and huffed. “No need.”

She skipped the asking part and directly wrote Fu Erqiu’s name on the form.

Back in Class 1, Fu Erqiu rarely interacted with others. Having missed nearly a week in her new class, she wasn’t close with anyone. It wasn’t until the teacher closed the registration sheet and announced the groups were finalized that she realized—she had been grouped with Su Chunyin.

At the bus door stood Su Chunyin, her naturally curly hair bouncing in the wind. When Fu Erqiu stepped down, she greeted her with a cheerful smile. “No running off, okay? Stay with us, dear teammate~”

When the group from Jiangcheng No.1 High School arrived, it was already close to noon. The teachers handed out maps and led everyone on a one-hour tour before announcing it was time for lunch.

To make things fun and hands-on, the class had used their recently collected funds to book a countryside barbecue spot behind the scenic area.

The venue provided the space, ingredients, and seasonings—but the students had to cook everything themselves. After a long morning ride and a tour, everyone was starving. They quickly divided up the tasks and got to work.

Some marinated meat and washed vegetables. Others built the fire, skewered meat, or tried their hand at grilling.

“Aiya!”

None of them had much cooking experience. Though their actions looked decent, chaos reigned—oil from the meat flared up into fire, someone spent ages trying to light charcoal without success, and screams rang out now and then.

Su Chunyin was one of those who struggled. She’d been fiddling with the charcoal forever without getting a flame and ended up with a face smudged in soot. Song Rao urged her to give up, but Su Chunyin was stubborn and kept trying.

Just then, a voice behind her said, “You’re not using enough kindling. The charcoal won’t catch. Also, you’ve packed the charcoal too tightly—there’s no airflow underneath.”

Su Chunyin turned. Who else could it be but Fu Erqiu?

“Well, look who’s finally talking to me.” Su Chunyin tossed the tongs onto the ground. “If you’re so experienced, why don’t you do it?”

Fu Erqiu didn’t answer the first remark, but she did respond to the second. She picked up the tongs and got to work.

She asked the staff for more charcoal and pine needles, lit the needles first, used them to ignite the charcoal, then used that to light the harder coke beneath—leaving gaps for air to circulate.

Su Chunyin crouched beside her, arms crossed, watching with a smirk. “Weren’t you ignoring me? Why are you helping now?”

Without waiting for a reply, she added, “Oh, right—you’re doing it for everyone, not just me. Such selflessness, huh?”

Song Rao tried to hold back laughter. She found Su Chunyin’s petty sarcasm oddly charming. But before long, Su Chunyin snapped at her too. “Careful not to bite your tongue in this mountain breeze!”

Taking the hint, Song Rao made an excuse and quickly slipped away, leaving the two alone.

With Song Rao gone, Su Chunyin nudged Fu Erqiu’s shoe with her foot. “Why are you avoiding me?”

Fu Erqiu didn’t reply. Su Chunyin took off her cap, exposing her delicate features. “Don’t tell me I scared you off with that confession last night?”

The charcoal Fu Erqiu used burned well—soon, the coke was lit too. She stared at the flame and said softly, “Su Chunyin, this isn’t a joke.”