The Cold Goddess Always Wants to Turn Me Gay (GL) - Chapter 42: The Little Rabbit Who Refuses to Take Responsibility

The post on the school forum was deleted by the original poster that afternoon. A new post was made instead, stating that the poster had misunderstood the facts and caused significant distress to the individuals involved. After deep reflection, they sincerely apologized and confirmed they had received disciplinary action from the school, vowing never to repeat the mistake.

The mocking spectators were caught off guard by this sudden shift in tone.

Shortly after, the student council also released a post clarifying that the original thread—titled [Shocking! Department Beauty Spotted in Luxury Car Late at Night]—was entirely fabricated. The school had issued a demerit to the poster and urged students to focus on their studies and uphold proper conduct.

Once the post went live, everyone realized they had wronged the department beauty. They flocked to the apology thread, angrily condemning the original poster for inciting online harassment—completely unaware that they themselves had been part of the mob. Now that the truth was out, they shifted all blame onto the initial poster. After a wave of furious criticism, they began leaving apologies for Wei Zhi in the comments.

Amid the flood of apologetic comments, there were still a few skeptical voices claiming the photos were real, with no signs of Photoshop. If that was the case, shouldn’t the student in the photos explain the true situation?

Yu Xinxin scrolled through the two posts, her expression growing darker with each word until it seemed like storm clouds were about to burst.

She felt Wei Zhi didn’t deserve this. Wei Zhi had endured so much abuse for so long—vicious words of all kinds, even radical insults like “whore” and “used goods.” Now, people were just casually shifting the blame to the original poster, offering seemingly sincere apologies in the comments, and acting like that settled everything? Shouldn’t apologies be made in person? Did they think typing a few words was enough? The original poster was despicable, but weren’t those who joined in the mockery and curses just as hateful?

Wei Zhi wasn’t concerned about how the situation unfolded, but at this moment, she was in a good mood. Sitting beside Yu Xinxin, she rested her chin on her hand, watching the side of Yu Xinxin’s face. Her beautiful brows were furrowed in anger, her soft lips slightly pouted, and her slender fingers tapped furiously at the keyboard, expressing her frustration.

Wei Zhi gazed at her, her eyes crinkling with warmth, her heart full.

Xinxin is so angry… that must mean she cares about me, right?

She hadn’t failed to notice Yu Xinxin’s awkwardness since that night. She couldn’t figure out why, but she didn’t dare ask—afraid Yu Xinxin might bring up that conversation again, pressing her about what happened in the past. It wasn’t that she hadn’t considered telling her all those painful memories, but selfishly, she wanted to remain perfect in Yu Xinxin’s eyes. She didn’t want Yu Xinxin dragged into her complicated family dynamics—not when she still lacked the power to protect her.

Unconsciously, the smile faded from Wei Zhi’s face. She thought of the business card Gu Mingxi had left behind, of Wei Shenghong, of her mother… It had already been four years since she left.

“Wei Zhi…” A soft voice called out, hesitant.

Wei Zhi had been sitting beside her for a while now, and at some point, the gentleness in her expression had vanished. Her face grew increasingly somber, even mournful. Yu Xinxin recalled that night they returned—Wei Zhi’s pale lips, her vacant eyes as if her soul had fled. Her heart clenched.

Wei Zhi snapped out of her thoughts, meeting Yu Xinxin’s worried gaze with a tender look. “Hmm?”

“Nothing,” Yu Xinxin said, masking her concern. “I just don’t get why you don’t seem to care at all about being insulted like this?” After all the time she’d spent arguing with those netizens on her behalf.

Wei Zhi blinked, taking in Yu Xinxin’s clear eyes and slightly pouting lips. A ripple of emotion passed through her gaze. “There’s no point wasting energy on irrelevant things. As long as you believe in me, that’s enough.”

“But the things they said about you—” Yu Xinxin’s voice rose slightly, her anger still simmering.

“I don’t care what others think of me. The truth is the truth, and I am who I am. A few words from strangers won’t change that,” she explained, her eyes softening even more as she looked at Yu Xinxin.

Under that gentle gaze, Yu Xinxin’s heart trembled slightly. In a small voice, she murmured, “But I care.”

A small firework burst unexpectedly in Wei Zhi’s heart, and the corners of her lips curled up involuntarily. “Having Xin Xin care about me is enough to make me happy,” she thought.

Yu Xin Xin was momentarily dazed. Wei Zhi’s smile just now had been excessively tender, and for some reason, she found herself unable to meet her gaze. The fluttering in her heart made her eyes drop nervously, only to get stuck when they passed by the other’s rosy lips. She remembered how pale and sickly Wei Zhi’s lips had looked at the start of the semester. Today, she realized how beautiful they actually were. Subconsciously, she licked her own lips, the memory of their lips touching flashing through her mind, making her heartbeat quicken slightly.

Gentle sunlight streamed through the window, quietly illuminating Wei Zhi, making her cheeks appear even softer. Yu Xin Xin’s expression grew distant, her gaze fixed on those alluring lips that moved slightly. They reminded her of her favorite strawberry jelly in summer—tender, sweet, and delicious.

She wondered if the jelly before her would taste just as good. As if possessed, she rose on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to those delicate petals.

Watching the face before her grow closer, feeling the softness bloom between their lips, both sighed contentedly in their hearts. Wei Zhi wrapped an arm around Yu Xin Xin’s slender waist, gently savoring her sweetness.

The sensation of that slim waist against her fingertips sent a thrill through her nerves. Yu Xin Xin’s eyes gradually cleared, and she pulled away in a fluster, lowering her head in confusion. What had she just done?

Wei Zhi looked amusedly at the blushing little rabbit before her. Was she trying to kiss and run?

“I’m sorry, I—I didn’t mean to…” Yu Xin Xin stammered, head bowed like a child who’d done wrong, not daring to look at her. “I don’t know what came over me, I…” Her heart was in turmoil. Instinct told her this wasn’t right between two girls, yet the memory of that softness made her long for it again.

This kiss… felt different from any before.

“You just couldn’t help yourself?” Wei Zhi chuckled softly, two more fireworks bursting in her heart.

“I, I…” Yu Xin Xin looked up, her clear eyes misty and shimmering, the lovely blush still coloring her delicate cheeks.

Wei Zhi gazed at her, her entire being softening suddenly. Setting aside her teasing thoughts, she looked at her earnestly. “I understand. Don’t rush. We’ll take it slow. I’ll wait for you…” Wait for you to see the truest feelings in your heart. She believed that day wouldn’t be far off—she had endless patience to give her.

Yu Xin Xin stared blankly at Wei Zhi, her chaotic emotions calming in the warmth of that gentle voice.