I Heard You Liked Me First - Chapter 28

After posting on Weibo, Gu Nan’s phone went wild with notifications.
She knew countless people were commenting under her post, but she didn’t want to look.
Whatever they were saying, it didn’t matter.

She opened the car door; the night air rushed in, sharp and cold, as if trying to slap her awake from grief.

When she walked back into her room, Auntie immediately came to meet her.
“Didn’t Xiao Chi say you were home early?”

Gu Nan looked at her the one person who had stayed by her side the longest.

The fragile shell she’d been holding up finally cracked.
Her face was filled with sorrow as she murmured, “Auntie, I saw a student jump off a building today.”

Auntie stepped forward gently. “I know. Xiao Chi told me.”
“There was nothing you could’ve done. Don’t carry that weight on your shoulders.”

Gu Nan bent down and buried her head in Auntie’s shoulder.

It took her a long while before she whispered, “I know. I know sometimes living hurts more than dying.”
“What breaks my heart isn’t her death it’s knowing how much pain she must’ve been in to make that choice.”
“She’d already suffered so much. Why couldn’t Heaven give her even a little happiness?”

Auntie sighed softly.
Not everyone was lucky enough to meet someone who would give them happiness.

“Nan Nan,” she said, patting her back, “get some sleep. You’ll feel better when you wake up.”

Gu Nan nodded. “Okay.”

She wanted to face things properly to know what the outcome would be, what punishment those people would face.

Not long after her post, the school finally issued a statement.

They announced that they would take the matter seriously, had already handed over all evidence to the police, and would conduct an internal investigation to ensure justice for the deceased, for the students, and for the public.

Unlike other schools that skirted responsibility or tried to cover things up, this statement was clear:
They would investigate openly and await the police results.

But the internet is a restless, noisy place people always find something to pick apart.

From half-truths and rumors, netizens felt they already “knew everything.”
Under the school’s official post and Gu Nan’s Weibo, they began attacking furiously:

“Why didn’t you stop the bullying when it first happened?”
“That teacher stole a student’s work. Why didn’t you investigate?”
“The other students are the real culprits! If not for the bullying, she wouldn’t have killed herself!”
“And Gu Nan what did she say to that girl? She’s not a professional rescuer! Why’d she go up there? Just because she was her fan, she thought she could save her? So full of herself!”

The comments piled up endlessly.

When a few students tried to defend the school, netizens found them and unleashed more abuse—accusing them all of being bullies, no matter who they were.

“We weren’t even in the same class, same dorm, or same major! We didn’t even know her!”
They protested, but it didn’t matter.

To the internet, being from that school was guilt enough.

The school’s official account turned into a chaotic battlefield.

When the admins began moderating comments, people only cursed harder.

Meanwhile, Gu Nan’s Weibo, left unmoderated, was a complete mess.

But soon, people within the art community, and her fans, began to speak up for her.

“She searched through millions of followers to find the deceased’s account. How could anyone say she didn’t care?”
“There’s a video. She leaned half her body over the balcony, trying to grab the girl what more proof do you need?”
“Please, calm down and wait for the police results.”

Many of those reposting were respected artists in the community.
Their fans, who had first heard about the case from trending tags, began to quiet down once they saw their idols speak rationally.

Gu Nan’s own fans, who at first argued fiercely with strangers, also calmed after seeing those posts.

“Let’s wait for the official findings. The police are already involved. We can’t judge based on rumors or fragments online.”
“We trust Gu Nan and we’ll wait quietly for the truth.”
Neither Gu Nan nor the school is avoiding responsibility. Let’s stay rational and stop venting on her page.”

Though the noise online continued to swell, reason was spreading too.

While the internet burned, Gu Nan waking up from a short sleep had her mind on something else entirely.

Her cat was missing.

When Chi An got off work that afternoon, she went straight to Gu Nan’s villa.
Gu Nan had spent all day searching for her cat, and the moment she saw Chi An, her frustration broke loose.

“Tell me, is Little Orange doing this on purpose? She just had to run off now, of all times! Doesn’t she know I’m upset and need her around to comfort me?”

Chi An, already exhausted by everything else, rubbed her temples.
“She’s probably in heat. The vet said she’s about six or seven months old, which makes her an adult now. When that happens, all she’ll think about is finding a tomcat.”

Gu Nan threw a pillow at the sofa. “Unbelievable. So men are more important than her mom now?”

Chi An couldn’t help but laugh, her tension easing for the first time in days.
“So you’ve officially upgraded to being her mom now?”

Gu Nan glared at her. “Wrong. Technically, I should be the dad. You’d be the mom.”

Then she slumped down on the sofa. “So what do we do? Should we find a tomcat to lure her back?”
“I finally got myself a little fur baby. I’m not letting her run off that easily.”

Chi An almost wanted to thank the cat it had appeared at the perfect time to pull Gu Nan’s thoughts away from the tragedy.

She could help Gu Nan find the cat, but the one who died… There was no bringing her back.

“Actually, that’s not a bad idea,” Chi An said. “I’ll ask around and see if any of my friends have a tomcat in heat.”

That evening, Su Wan showed up holding one.

She had declined Madam Gu’s invitation and gone straight to the villa, releasing a striking Siamese onto the floor.

“You’re lucky I found one at all. My friends said most of their cats haven’t had social training yet it’s not good to take them out. So I could only borrow this one.”

Gu Nan eyed the Siamese with clear disdain.
“Why’s its face so dark? If it mates with Little Orange, won’t we end up with a litter of black-faced kittens?”

Su Wan accepted the tea Auntie brought, took a sip, and rolled her eyes. “This cat is way more expensive than your orange tabby.”

The Siamese strutted around for a while, then suddenly started hissing and swatting at Gu Nan.

Su Wan was startled. “Wow, you really have a cat-repelling aura. This one’s famous for being gentle anyone can hold it.”

Gu Nan looked down, expression flat. “Please have mercy on me, okay? I’ve just gone through two very depressing events, and now you’re mocking me.”

Su Wan understood what she meant. “Life and death are fate. As long as justice is served for that girl in the end, you’ll have done a good deed.”
“But seriously, the comments online haven’t gotten to you, right? Those people are vile.”

Gu Nan frowned slightly. “I haven’t looked yet, but I can guess what they’re saying. Let them. It’s not like I haven’t been cursed out before. If I don’t read it, it’s like it never happened.”

After a night’s rest, she’d come to terms with what happened to Song Jiaxuan.
The girl was gone perhaps that was her release.
What mattered now was giving her the justice she deserved.

Chi An came out of the kitchen carrying two bowls of fruit salad. “I’ll crack the windows open a bit, see if our tomcat can lure Little Orange back.”

That night, Su Wan decided to stay over, just to see whether Gu Nan’s “flirty little cat” would return for the Siamese.

But by morning, the Siamese had left a puddle of pee on the leather sofa—and Little Orange was still nowhere to be found.

Thankfully, the leather didn’t absorb it. Auntie quickly called for help to clean it up.

Meanwhile, Gu Nan crouched in front of the Siamese, glaring at its puffed-up fur.
“You’re just not handsome enough. If you were good-looking, Little Orange would’ve come running. Don’t hiss at me I’m just telling the truth. You’re not only ugly, you also pee everywhere. You’re filthy!”

Su Wan laughed so hard she nearly fell off the couch.
Even Chi An couldn’t help smiling. “You’re seriously arguing with a cat.”

Gu Nan turned to her. “What do we do now? This cat’s useless.”
“No word yet from the pet-finding agency?”

Chi An shook her head. “Then we’ll switch to another one.