I Fell In Love With My Rival (GL) - Chapter 9

Su Chunyin had cursed Fu Erqiu a hundred times in her dreams. Just as she was about to reach the 101st time, the shrill ring of her alarm clock yanked her awake.

Her phone began playing a solemn voiceover: “The plan for a year lies in spring, the plan for a day lies in the morning.” The moment Su Chunyin opened her eyes, she saw a certain someone’s school trousers hanging by the window. Any trace of a good morning mood instantly vanished without a trace.

Last night, when Fu Erqiu insisted that her trousers be washed again, Su Chunyin had jumped up in protest. But as Fu Erqiu calmly pointed out, bit by bit, every spot that hadn’t been washed properly, Su Chunyin wanted nothing more than to bury her head in the sink from shame.

She fidgeted with her hands and looked around sheepishly. “Well… the sink is too small, not enough room to work with… and the detergent is terrible…” In short, it was all the fault of external factors.

Fu Erqiu nodded, seemingly “agreeing” with her excuses. “It’s getting late. Just take it home for now—but make sure to wash it by hand.”

Su Chunyin acted like she hadn’t heard a word. Once she got home, she threw Fu Erqiu’s school trousers straight into the washing machine, no way was she letting Fu enjoy the special care of Aunt Zheng’s laundry service. After they were washed, she deliberately hung them in her room to keep others from seeing them.

By morning, the trousers were already dry. But Su Chunyin had no intention of seeing Fu Erqiu so soon. After sitting on her bed with messy hair and a dazed expression for half the morning, she decided to fold the trousers and stuff them into the farthest corner of her wardrobe.

After all, Fu Erqiu was that annoying, Su Chunyin thought. Let her go a few days without any school trousers.

The Su family driver dutifully dropped Su Chunyin off at the school gate. As soon as she walked in, she ran into Song Rao.

Song Rao gave her a once-over and said, “Niaoniao, it’s flag-raising day today!”

Only then did Su Chunyin remember it was Monday. According to the rules at No. 1 High School, every Monday, all students had to participate in the flag-raising ceremony—and everyone was required to wear their school uniforms. She had left the house in a rush and was still wearing a light mauve dress.

Looking down at her outfit in irritation, she debated whether to just skip the ceremony altogether. Better that than risk getting scolded by the homeroom teacher. But Song Rao seemed to read her mind and tugged at the hem of her dress. “Luckily, I left a spare set of my washed uniform in the classroom. You can wear it.”

Su Chunyin and Song Rao were about the same size. After a quick change, they rushed to the field together for the ceremony.

Because of their height, Yang Yuxia and Xu Chang had been arranged to stand at the back of the lineup. Once the teacher turned away, the group exchanged glances and quietly switched places to stand together.

They had all been worried after Su Chunyin was taken away by the police last night. But since it was already late, she had only sent a brief message in the group chat after getting out, saying everything was fine before heading straight to bed. Now, Yang Yuxia and Xu Chang’s curiosity was at its peak.

“Niaoniao,” Yang Yuxia asked, “what happened after you were taken to the station last night? Why did Fu the Academic Overlord suddenly change her mind and cancel the report?”

Su Chunyin had only shared the outcome in the group chat, deliberately omitting the embarrassing detail about being forced to wash Fu Erqiu’s trousers. So, the others were still in the dark.

Without even thinking, she made up a lie: “Obviously, I moved her with reason and emotion. A few words from me and she was crying her eyes out from guilt, begging to withdraw the complaint and clear my name.”

Xu Chang stayed silent. Song Rao looked thoughtful. Only Yang Yuxia, a bit gullible, clapped in delight. “Our Niaoniao is amazing!”

“Of course,” Su Chunyin boasted smoothly, “even the officer last night was blown away by my eloquence…”

The school loudspeakers began to play the national anthem. The student representative on stage stepped forward with their left foot. Song Rao whispered, “Time to get ready.”

Su Chunyin’s gaze wandered lazily until it suddenly froze. Wasn’t that Fu Erqiu standing on the podium?

Tall and straight, Fu Erqiu stood with her shoulders back, just finishing her weekly speech. She stepped aside, leaving the lectern.

Su Chunyin blinked in surprise. Song Rao chuckled softly beside her. “So even our academic overlord can rush out the door and forget to dress properly?”

Fu Erqiu wore a neat school jacket zipped all the way up, her hair tied back with precision. But the lower half of her outfit didn’t match at all—she was wearing a pair of brightly patterned jeans. The contrast between her formal top and casual bottom was jarring, drawing everyone’s attention.

This small detail opened the floodgates for the Niaoniao Support Group’s chatter, and they began teasing Fu Erqiu mercilessly. As Su Chunyin listened, a faint guilt began to creep into her heart. Was it because of her that Fu had to show up like this?

But the guilt didn’t last long. By the time the ceremony ended, it had already been scattered away by the breeze.

Song Rao asked, “Are you going to wait for Lu Fang to come back before dealing with this Fu-Erqiu-and-Freckles situation?”

Su Chunyin nodded. “Five more days.” Lu Fang had surprisingly replied to her message last night, saying his training would end in five days and he would return to school to prepare for finals.

“Five days, huh…” Song Rao sighed.

…

Eventually, Su Chunyin found a chance to return the trousers. As usual, it was just before the lunch break ended. As usual, Fu Erqiu was seated in the back, silently doing her work. But this time, Su Chunyin felt different. She handed the trousers over with a complicated look and couldn’t help saying, “Fu Erqiu, maybe you should stop now.”

Fu Erqiu looked up, puzzled, as if she didn’t understand what that meant. Su Chunyin was a little disappointed. “Lu Fang’s coming back in a few days. If things get ugly then… what’s the point?”

Fu Erqiu didn’t respond. Su Chunyin lingered a moment, then turned and left.

Back home, Su Chunyin was feeling low. She opened her custom keepsake box. Inside were meteorite bracelets gifted by Su Zhi, along with a carefully curated collection of meteorites—some dull and rocky, some honeycombed like moon rock, some glittering like gold-pyroxene. Some were cheap, others as expensive as gold. But no matter their value, they were all treasures to her—beautiful, soothing, and full of wonder.

She sat on her bed, admiring them one by one, imagining their blazing journey through the sky before landing. Her mood gradually improved.

Just then, her phone buzzed with a message from someone unexpected: [Is the little boss around?] It was Qiu Ye, whom she hadn’t heard from in days.

Only then did Su Chunyin remember she had paid for a chat companion a while ago but had only spoken once.

She replied: [I’m here.]

Qiu Ye responded promptly and directly: [Anything troubling you that you’d like to talk about lately?]

Su Chunyin was taken aback. Though the previous chat companion had mentioned Qiu Ye was new to this, she was still surprised by how blunt she was. Weren’t chat companions supposed to gently coax their clients into opening up?

But the unpolished approach actually made her feel more at ease. She even felt playful: [And what if I say no?]

Qiu Ye didn’t respond right away. A few minutes later, she received a WeChat notification—a red packet. Inside was exactly 200 yuan, the same money she had sent her for milk tea.

Su Chunyin almost laughed in disbelief: [What, you’re quitting just because I don’t have any problems to share?]

A long pause.

[Saving money.]

Su Chunyin furiously typed a string of messages, nearly posting her family’s property certificate to prove she wasn’t strapped for cash. But reason kicked in. She deleted everything and simply wrote: [Thank you.]

Qiu Ye replied quickly: [You’re welcome.]

Su Chunyin was speechless. But Qiu Ye had a point. She did have troubles she couldn’t share with anyone, which was why she sought her out in the first place.

[Remember that friend I told you about?]

[Your childhood friend?]

Even though he couldn’t see her, Su Chunyin nodded: [Yeah, that one.]

[Did something happen?]

[You could say that.] She briefly summarized, [He was dating a sweet girl online (Q), but in real life, he cheated on her with someone else (F)—and F bullied Q. I used to think he was the best person in the world.

But now I see he has flaws too.]

Then she asked the question that had long been buried in her heart:

[Why do people change?]

She watched Qiu Ye’s typing bubble flicker on and off before she sent a long message:

[A person’s cells regenerate every three months. After seven years, every cell in the body has been replaced. Narrowly speaking, they’ve become an entirely new person. Broadly speaking, as circumstances and experiences shift, so do our emotions, interests, and personalities. It’s natural—even people living under the same roof can change fundamentally because of the different information they receive.]

Su Chunyin couldn’t help asking: [Then do you think people who’ve changed… can ever go back to how they were?]

The reply came swiftly:

[It’s very hard. Because it’s not just him who’s changed—you have too.]

Her hands trembled slightly as she stared at that message. Indeed. It wasn’t just Lu Fang who had changed. Su Zhi had too. And hadn’t she changed as well? People walking in opposite directions rarely found their

way back to the closeness they once shared.

She didn’t reply for a long time. Then Qiu Ye sent another message: [Are you upset?]

She wasn’t really upset, not with Lu Fang or Su Zhi. After everything they’d been through, she was mentally prepared. What she felt now was more of a quiet acceptance, a so-this-is-how-it-is kind of relief. But she felt mischievous and texted:

[Yeah, it’s all your fault. You’re even more annoying than that F-student overlord.]

On the other end of the chat, the very same “F-student overlord,” Fu Erqiu, had no idea she was being accused. She quietly switched over to Baidu, wondering how to comfort this “little boss.”

Yes, little boss.

When Brother Wang introduced her to this client, he mentioned the other party seemed quite young. After accepting the friend request and seeing the silly piglet profile picture smiling goofily, Fu Erqiu guessed they were probably a middle schooler or younger. Their brief chats also sounded like someone navigating the emotional mess of adolescence.

Fu Erqiu hadn’t wanted to take money from someone so young. But Brother Wang said:

“She probably sent that payment as casually as tossing around spare change. You need the money—it’s not like you’re stealing. There’s no need to be so high-minded about it. Besides, it’s just a kid. You’re not even sure she’ll keep paying. If you ever find out she’s using her parents’ money without permission, we can deal with it then.”