I Heard I'm a Hearthrob - Chapter 7

I won’t wait for you like I used to…

Qiu Shuang nodded as she watched Chen Jining’s actions. Truth be told, her relationship with Chen Jining hadn’t been particularly fulfilling. Chen Wanjun had indeed distanced herself from Qiu Shuang since that day, though Qiu Shuang suspected she might be plotting something big.

Song Ya remained stubbornly persistent, inviting Qiu Shuang out every week. To Qiu Shuang, Song Ya hadn’t changed at all—still as irritating as ever.

During each meeting, Song Ya would complain about Chen Jining, but after a few times, she stopped bringing it up.

Could she have realized she needs to compete and is now trying to be more considerate?

Qiu Shuang couldn’t tell.

“Haven’t you already caught enough? Come on, let’s catch together. Why bother with that deadpan? She’s just putting on an act. Didn’t you feel like you were dating a robot when you were with her?”

Hearing Song Ya’s words, Qiu Shuang had no rebuttal. After all, what she said was spot-on—Senior Sister really did seem like a robot.

For Qiu Shuang, dating someone of the same gender was a novel and intriguing experience.

After all, watching Senior Sister diligently research various guides with a puzzled expression, trying to help Qiu Shuang experience different activities, was genuinely amusing.

Especially when Senior Sister clicked on a new activity, only to find it completely different from what the guide described.

At those moments, Qiu Shuang could almost sense that Senior Sister was a living person—a remarkably reliable one.

Qiu Shuang didn’t know where this arrangement would ultimately lead, but for now, she and Senior Sister were genuinely happy.

With the stressful final exams over, Qiu Shuang boarded the train home. She wasn’t eager to face her family; no matter how hard they tried to create a warm atmosphere, it couldn’t erase the events of the past.

“You’re back,” her mother said with a forced smile, sighing as she looked at Qiu Shuang. “You’ve lost so much weight again.”

Since the accident three years ago, everyone had changed.

The once-cheerful atmosphere at the dining table had become inexplicably heavy. Qiu Shuang mechanically picked at the food in her bowl. After staring at her for a long moment, her father finally spoke:

“Are you dating anyone?”

“No.”

I’ve never liked men, not even once.

After staying home for a few days, Qiu Shuang left to start her holiday job. With staff shortages at the time, she quickly found work.

Her parents actually doted on her quite a bit, at least to the point of not wanting her to work. In their traditional eyes, a student’s primary duty was to study.

Financial matters were the responsibility of adults. Setting aside their traditional views, Qiu Shuang found it easy to accept them.

They wanted her to become a docile woman, but that wasn’t their fault—it was a problem of the times.

Still, she grew up in that stifling environment, becoming her own person.

“Hello, that’ll be 18 yuan and 52 fen.”

After scanning the items with practiced ease, Qiu Shuang sighed. She wasn’t really short on money; her parents’ allowance was more than enough, even allowing her to save a little. She simply enjoyed the feeling of leaving home. After giving half her earnings to her parents as a filial gesture, she could keep the rest for herself.

And Qiu Shuang knew that the half she gave would eventually be returned to her by her parents someday.

Working outside the home meant earning money and avoiding her parents’ nagging. They would even brag to everyone about how sensible she was, knowing how to ease their financial burdens.

Qiu Shuang understood social etiquette well enough, but she had no desire to play along, at least not in her eyes. She saw such efforts as utterly pointless.

She refused to waste her energy on such meaningless pursuits.

With this thought, Qiu Shuang continued scanning items with practiced efficiency until she spotted a familiar figure standing at the entrance.

It was Chen Wanjun. Qiu Shuang had almost forgotten how long it had been since they last met—two months? Three?

She thought she had forgotten her, but the memories of their shared past flooded back into her mind.

“Long time no see,” Chen Wanjun said, brushing past her to begin shopping normally. Their interaction was as impersonal as that of strangers who hadn’t seen each other in years, which suited Qiu Shuang just fine.

Later, after finishing her shift and changing out of her work uniform, Qiu Shuang saw the familiar figure again.

Qiu Shuang had no idea how long the other person had been waiting, nor what they were thinking. She simply sat there in silence, as if awaiting a final verdict.

“What are you doing?”

“Waiting for you.”

Hearing this, Qiu Shuang couldn’t help but laugh softly. The scene felt so familiar, as if it were a memory from the past.

She recalled those nights in high school, when she would stand quietly beneath the streetlamp, waiting for the other person.

Their homeroom teachers from different classes always kept them for evening study hall for slightly different lengths of time. She remembered the other person’s class ending five minutes later, so she would wait beneath that streetlamp for one five-minute interval after another.

So many long five-minute intervals—Qiu Shuang had thought she’d forgotten them, but in truth, she remembered them all.

Back then, the darkness of night had never felt long, nor had the cool breezes of spring, summer, autumn, or winter.

All she remembered was the anticipation and joy she felt waiting beneath the lamp for the other person to arrive.

Until the day they had their final falling out. She walked that road for what felt like forever, waiting and waiting, but the other person never appeared.

The other person no longer wanted to see her.

“Do you need something?”

Chen Wanjun sat there, silent for a moment after hearing the cold words. She recalled a distant past when she had once eagerly awaited the other woman.

The distance from the school to the streetlight wasn’t far, but it was always so dark. Chen Wanjun had always been afraid of the dark, but she always thought that someone was waiting for her just ahead, which made her less afraid.

However, she deserved the situation she was in now. She had been a coward who fled the battlefield, so she had to bear the consequences.

“I’m sorry, I really wanted to see you…”

Hearing this, Qiu Shuang paused before finally sitting down beside Chen Wanjun. Neither of them spoke, simply gazing silently at the streetlight across the road. No one could know what thoughts were swirling in their hearts.

By the time the supermarket officially closed, the only light left in their eyes was that distant lamp.

“You used to always wait for me under that light.”

“Yes, but I won’t wait for you anymore.”

After saying this, Qiu Shuang left without hesitation, feeling no sense of indebtedness. She was the one who deserved to be repaid, but she couldn’t bring herself to say those harsh words while looking into Chen Wanjun’s eyes. Qiu Shuang had to admit it: she wasn’t as ruthless as Chen Wanjun.

Seeing the person she had once loved, she couldn’t bear to utter those cruel words. She simply couldn’t bring herself to be a villain.

She wouldn’t dismiss their past joy as a mere illusion, nor would she claim that her feelings had been false. To do so would be too cruel to the sincere, teenage version of herself who had once cherished those memories.

Chen Wanjun, love always has an expiration date. Now, it’s expired.

Qiu Shuang walked straight home, refusing to look back at Chen Wanjun’s figure. Or perhaps, she was afraid of seeing the other woman’s heartbroken silhouette.

She respected her past self and refused to dishonor it.

The holiday passed quickly. With her newfound wealth, Qiu Shuang returned to campus.

For some reason—perhaps the trials of the vacation had changed her—Senior Sister seemed different, more alive than before.

“Shuangshuang, I’m planning to write a new thesis. What do you think of this title?”

Qiu Shuang showed no reaction to Chen Jining’s continued use of the affectionate nickname, even in private. She could only sigh inwardly at how deeply her senior sister had immersed herself in this role, and how much that junior brother had hurt her.

“Hmm, I’m not in this field, so I might not fully understand. But I’m sure with your intelligence and talent, any title you come up with will be perfect.”

Chen Jining had already anticipated Qiu Shuang’s response, but she desperately wanted to find common ground with her.

Aside from occasional dates and the facade of being the perfect girlfriend for public appearances, there was virtually no genuine communication between them. They had different majors, different life goals, and different paths in life.

So what can I possibly offer to keep her?

A knock came at the door, followed by a familiar voice.

“Shuangshuang, my mom sent me with a bunch of local specialties. I brought some over for you and your roommates to try.”

Hearing the word “roommates” instead of “girlfriend,” Chen Jining glanced at Qiu Shuang. After a brief exchange of glances, Chen Jining understood the situation.

Throughout high school, Qiu Shuang had always idolized Lu Chen. In her eyes, he was the epitome of calm rationality, someone who could help anyone solve any problem.

Whenever you have a problem, just ask him, and he’ll help you solve it.

Qiu Shuang struggled to find words beautiful enough to describe him. No matter what she chose, she felt they fell short of capturing his perfect essence.

Yet he was always kind, appearing whenever she needed him. In a way, Qiu Shuang cherished him deeply.

“Thank you so much, Auntie! Oh, Lu Chen, my mom brought these for you. Take them home and try them!”

Chen Jining smiled at their interaction. Over the past six months, she had come to understand Qiu Shuang’s psychology.

Qiu Shuang was like a little turtle. If you banged hard on her shell, she would retreat inside, neither angry nor resentful. But if you gently stroked her shell from time to time, she might peek out, feeling happy.

A classic avoidant personality.

Perhaps she was waiting for someone truly gentle, or perhaps for someone to break through her shell. But it seemed unlikely that either would ever happen for her.