They Dumped Me—Now They’re Reincarnated and Obsessed? - Chapter 6

Li Yuyang had lost all her bluster.

With Yan Ze sitting behind her, watching her every move, she trembled through the entire evening. After night study ended, she didn’t dare linger or chat like before—she jumped up and rushed back to the dormitory.

By the time Xie Tingxue returned, Li Yuyang had already curled up on her bed under a thick blanket, completely silent.

No one was hogging the sink anymore.

In the past, Xie Tingxue always had to rush back earlier than Li Yuyang to quickly wash up and vacate the sink, since Li Yuyang would dawdle, admiring herself in the mirror and brushing her hair until lights-out.

If Xie Tingxue wasn’t done before she got back, she had to fetch water and crouch outside to wash up.

Tonight, however, the girls used the sink considerately and in turn. No one gave her sarcastic looks, no one intentionally stalled, and no one isolated her anymore.

For the first time since school started, Xie Tingxue felt free—truly free.

No matter what others thought, she was deeply grateful for Yan Ze’s outburst.

Outside, a girl from the neighboring class shouted, “Hey! Is it true Yan Ze transferred to your class?”

The girls squealed in excitement and envy:

“Ahh!! I’m going to hang out in front of Class Seven every break just to see him!”

“All the handsome ones are in Class Seven now!”

“This has to be feng shui!”

“What kind of feng shui? Their homeroom teacher’s ancestors must’ve done something right!”

“I’d stare at him all class, even if he were just sleeping!”

“You hopeless fangirl!”

Xie Tingxue snorted inwardly, thoroughly unimpressed by their taste.

To her, anyone with bad grades wasn’t handsome—no exceptions.

The only one she truly considered attractive… was Mei Jian.

Thinking of him, Xie Tingxue blushed.

During evening study, Mei Jian had handed her a notebook filled with solved examples and annotated explanations. He’d stayed up writing it—a personalized correction log highlighting key points and difficulties, even adding test questions for her.

She had completed the problems and handed them back. Before the period ended, Mei Jian returned the notebook with a comment in red pen: “Excellent answers!”

When Xie Tingxue snuck a glance at Mei Jian smiling, his handsome profile made her heart flutter.

That night, she slept soundly, dreaming of Mei Jian. In the dream, he held a pen, the tip scratching softly across paper, his voice gentle and reassuring:

“Xiao Xue, keep going—you’re doing great.”

________________________________________

The next morning, during early reading period, Xie Tingxue walked in to find Mei Jian already seated, handing her a sheet filled with vocabulary words.

“Memorize these,” he said.

Xie Tingxue bit her lip and nodded with all her strength, basking in the warmth of his presence.

Early reading was no longer a stressful, meaningless exercise. She dove into the vocabulary, reciting eagerly while marveling at how even Mei Jian’s handwriting was beautiful.

Then, almost at the end of early reading, Yan Ze arrived.

He looked like a zombie forced out of bed—dark circles under his eyes, messy hair like a bird’s nest, saggy pants, and an oversized shirt. He swayed through the front door like a ghost.

Though unspoken, the academic divide in the school was clear: the top students sat up front, and the struggling, sponsor-backed students in the back. They rarely interacted, especially during early reading.

Usually, students from the front entered through the front door, while those in the back snuck in through the rear so as not to disturb others.

But on his first day in Class Seven, Yan Ze broke that unwritten rule.

For a second, the entire class reading fell silent.

He yawned, his eyes hazy like he was drunk. But when he spotted Xie Tingxue, his gaze sharpened and his trademark grin returned, flashing two rows of perfect teeth.

He walked casually around the podium, ruffled Xie Tingxue’s hair as he passed, then happily shoved his hands into his pockets and sauntered toward the back.

Students paused, stunned, watching Xie Tingxue, who was frozen in place, then quickly resumed reading.

Mei Jian clenched his jaw. “…Such itchy hands.”

Xie Tingxue lowered her head, clutching her vocab sheet, took a deep breath, and refocused.

Yan Ze flopped into his seat, leaned against the wall, and immediately dozed off.

He hadn’t slept well the night before—his mind spinning endlessly. Only when he woke up that morning on his lumpy dorm bed did reality truly sink in:

This wasn’t a dream. He had really gone back in time.

He’d even transferred into Class Seven and reintroduced himself to Xie Tingxue.

Thinking back, he finally remembered seeing her once in high school. His friend Feng Fei had told him a girl in Class 7 looked like snow—fair skin, long lashes, cold and delicate. Yan Ze had passed by and sneaked a glance. She sat by the window, and he remembered a vague impression of her profile.

“It’s whatever,” he’d scoffed. “She’s okay.”

Feng Fei had even misread her name as “Xie Ding Xue,” which lessened the impact. He’d never fully appreciated the elegance of her real name or image—until much later.

Years after, on a film set, he spotted her again. It felt like a snowflake drifting through scorching summer air.

Her name tag said “Xie Tingxue.”

That day, Yan Ze cursed his ignorance. He hated not having the words to describe how she made him feel.

When they finally spoke, his first line was a dumb, heartfelt: “Your name… is really pretty.”

Eventually, he found out that she had once been his classmate—the same girl from high school he barely remembered.

Feng Fei, who had misread her name, had died long ago, stabbed in a bar fight after failing the college entrance exam.

As Yan Ze got to know Xie Tingxue better, he came to admire and ache for her.

Her father was rarely home. When he was, he only asked for money. Her mother worked as a housekeeper. They were kicked out by the Mei family, her dad ended up in prison, and she—barely out of school—had to rely on classmates to survive, eventually doing odd jobs at a film base.

Yan Ze thought it was all horribly unfair.

“If only you had met me sooner,” he used to say. “I’d never let you suffer like that. Mei Jian? He’s not even a man—just scum. You’d never fall for his lies if you’d known me first!”
________________________________________

The bell rang. Early reading was over.

Yan Ze jolted awake and stared at Xie Tingxue. “I said I would, and I did.”

He stood up, walked to the front row, and pulled her toward the hallway.

“What are you doing?!” she yelped.

“Just need a quick word.”

Mei Jian instantly grabbed her arm. “Yan Ze!”

Yan Ze glared. “What, I’m not allowed to talk to her now?”

Xie Tingxue trembled. “I… I just want to study…”

“Oh, so I’m disturbing you?” he asked.

She shook as she slowly nodded, her eyes burning with defiance.

Yan Ze was stunned for a moment, then raised his hands and smiled bitterly. “Alright.”

He slouched back to his seat, expression dark.

Mei Jian gently reassured her: “It’s okay. Focus on your studies. Don’t mind him.”

Xie Tingxue’s heart pounded. She sat down in a daze, noticing the stares from classmates. She ducked her head quickly.

What now? Had Yan Ze really set his sights on her?

________________________________________

Yan Ze didn’t sleep through the morning classes.

He leaned on his desk, chin propped up, and stared at Xie Tingxue the entire time—four full periods.

She felt like she was sitting on needles, drenched in cold sweat. His eyes burned into her back like a spirit that wouldn’t leave.

At lunch break, Mei Jian blocked him in the hallway.

“If you keep distracting her, I will have you suspended,” he warned. “And I have plenty of ways to make you disappear.”

“You threatening me?” Yan Ze raised a brow. “Try it. I’ll report you and bring your dad down with you. Mei Jian, go ahead—I dare you.”

Mei Jian’s eyes burned with fury. “You’re shameless. You really are garbage.”

“You should say that while looking in the mirror.”

Mei Jian snapped: “Let me spell it out. Xie Tingxue has no connections, no background—her only way out is through studying. If you mess that up, you’ll be the one who ruins her future.”

Yan Ze replied, “Then let me spell it out. I am her future. So, what if she has no background? I won’t abandon or hurt her like a certain scumbag. I’m marrying her, not her degree. Got it, Professor? Mei Jian”

“You’re ruining her!”

“No, you are,” Yan Ze shot back. “Stop pretending you respect her. You’re the first one who looked down on her.”

Mei Jian nearly exploded. “You want her to go back to what she was? No degree, no education, relying on a flaky actor like you? You’ll ruin her, drive her to despair! People will mock her, insult her, say she used dirty tricks to marry you, say she doesn’t deserve you, that she’s worthless—”

Yan Ze stood tall, his eyes glowing.

Mei Jian’s voice cracked with emotion. “Yan Ze… Can’t you just give her a chance to live?”

Yan Ze shook him off, face dark, and walked away.

He stood by the window, Mei Jian’s words echoing in his mind.

Finally, he slammed a fist down on the sill.

Grudgingly, bitterly, Yan Ze admitted—

Mei Jian was right.

Hao Feng stood at the podium and clapped his hands.

“Yan Ze, right?”

Yan Ze snapped out of his daze.

“This class is history,” Hao Feng said.

“…Oh,” Yan Ze muttered blankly.

Hao Feng continued, “I mean, since you’ve already transferred and even spent money on the textbook, why not open it and take a look? Modern Chinese History—The Opium War.”

Yan Ze flipped open his brand-new book and turned to Lesson Ten, as instructed.

Hao Feng added, “I’m not here to force anyone to study, but history is something we really should understand. Our country’s past—its defeats, its humiliations—it’s better to remember them than forget. Only by knowing shame can we find strength. Once we see our weaknesses clearly, we can plan for growth and fight for the future.”

Yan Ze was silent for a moment, staring at the pages.

Then he looked up, his gaze drifting to the third row.

There sat Xie Tingxue, beside Mei Jian. Between them lay half the classroom—more than forty students, an expanse that felt like thousands of miles, two entirely separate worlds, divided by an unbridgeable gulf.

“You’re right,” Yan Ze said calmly.

He clicked his pen and smiled. “Let’s see how you plan to teach this.”

Hao Feng grinned. “Exactly—how would you know if you like it unless you give it a listen?”

Xie Tingxue turned around in surprise, stealing a glance at Yan Ze. He happened to be looking at her too. Their eyes met.

Xie Tingxue instantly turned back around, her ears flushing red.

Yan Ze leaned over and scribbled her name in the corner of his textbook.

Then, at the very bottom, he wrote his own name.

“Mei Jian, your only strength is your grades, isn’t it?” he thought. “I’ll show you what it means to lose completely.”