The Class Beauty from Back Then

The C section was on the second floor of the building, where Huo Xuan and Lin Yue were selecting raw stones. In fact, Lin Yue did have some eye for these things. Along the way, she had commented on several stones, and her assessments were fairly reliable, hitting the mark on two or three of them.

Just as Huo Xuan had set his eyes on a particular stone, he suddenly heard a voice from behind.

"Huo Xuan!"

Huo Xuan spun around quickly and saw a young couple standing together, their arms linked. The man was nearly 1.8 meters tall, with shoulder-length hair, wearing a playful smile on his face.

The woman was slender, dressed in a pink qipao. She had an oval face and was quite beautiful, but her makeup was thick and garish, which overshadowed her natural charm and gave her a more superficial, vulgar appearance.

As soon as he saw them, Huo Xuan felt a surge of displeasure, because these two were the ones who had organized the class reunion—Ye Qian and Chen Fusheng.

Memories he couldn't control flooded his mind, taking him back to when he confessed to Ye Qian.

In the garden of Jiangzhou University, Huo Xuan stood nervously before Ye Qian, holding a bouquet of roses. His face was flushed with excitement and anxiety as he stammered, "Ye Qian, I like you!"

Ye Qian's reaction was completely unexpected. Her eyebrows shot up in disdain, as if she had been insulted. She coldly responded, "Someone like you dares to confess to me?"

At that time, Huo Xuan had excellent grades and wasn't bad looking, so he had always felt quite good about himself. But in that moment, he was struck dumb, completely caught off guard by her harsh rejection. He stood there in a daze.

He and Ye Qian had shared adjacent seats in class. She frequently sought his academic guidance, their banter often veering into flirtatious territory. Convinced the timing was ripe for confession, he never anticipated this outcome.

Ye Qian sneered, "Do you own property in Jiangzhou?"

Huo Xuan paled. "No."

"Can your family afford a Jiangzhou apartment?"

"No." His fists clenched. Metropolitan real estate prices—millions—were beyond his provincial family's means.

Ye Qian's disdain crystallized. "Chen Fusheng pursues me. Twelve properties. Two companies worth nine figures. Father: district chief. Mother: deputy prosecutor general. Brother-in-law: listed firm CEO. Six-foot frame. Gifts like this 38,000 yuan bag." She brandished the leather accessory. "Were you me, what choice would remain?"

Huo Xuan's voice fractured. "This was... just affection. Not marriage proposals. Must you be so transactional?"

"Mother taught me," she stated icily, "to sever attachments with penniless clingers before they derail my trajectory."

Tilting her chin like a haughty princess: "Beauty, like capital, demands strategic leveraging. I'll barter mine for optimal returns."

The revelation stunned him—this paragon of grace was a ruthlessly pragmatic operator, her verbal scalpels flaying his dignity.

He comprehended now. While acknowledging her right to life optimization, the brutality of her calculus—executed without anesthetic—left psychological lacerations.

Huo Xuan inhaled deeply, the sharp scent of lilies from the bouquet stinging his nostrils. With deliberate slowness, he tossed the flowers into a trash bin, locking eyes with Ye Qian. "My hometown has a saying: 'Never mock the ambitions of youth.'" His voice vibrated with suppressed fury, knuckles whitening against his jeans. "I may not be some silver-spoon heir, but through these hands—" he raised calloused palms, "—I'll forge my own empire. Thank you for showing your true colors early, sparing me wasted years on someone so... transactional."

He turned and strode away, leather boots echoing like gunshots across the marble floor.

Ye Qian's face twisted in displeasure, coral-pink manicure digging into her Prada clutch. "You'll never surpass Chen Fusheng!" Her shrill cry cracked the atrium's polished calm, drawing stares from passing hotel guests.

Memories surged—Ye Qian's tinkling laughter as she'd shared his confession with Chen Fusheng during senior year, the subsequent classroom taunts. Now, engaged to Jiangzhou's golden boy, her superiority complex manifested in saccharine concern: "Really, Huo Xuan, you should've used our booked hotel. Let me reimburse your ticket—that long journey must've strained your budget."

Huo Xuan's spine stiffened. Every syllable dripped with calculated condescension. "Keep your charity." The words emerged glacial, his seething anger crystallizing into contempt. "I pay my own way."

Ye Qian's face immediately showed displeasure. This guy doesn't know his place, she thought, about to speak when Lin Yue approached.

Lin Yue held a rough stone, calling from a distance: "Huo Xuan, how about this stone?"

Approaching, she noticed Chen Fusheng and Ye Qian. "Friends?" she asked with a smile.

Lin Yue wore a qipao today. Her elegant figure, noble aura, and charming face instantly overshadowed Ye Qian. As the saying goes, "comparison kills"—compared to Lin Yue, Ye Qian looked like a sparrow beside a peacock.

Chen Fusheng's eyes lit up immediately. He stared intently at Lin Yue while extending his hand: "Hello, I'm Chen Fusheng, Huo Xuan's classmate."

Before Lin Yue could speak, Huo Xuan reached out and shook Chen Fusheng's hand forcefully. "Long time no see. Let me introduce Lin Yue, my friend."

"Lin Yue?" Annoyed by Huo Xuan's interruption, Chen Fusheng suddenly recalled her identity upon hearing the name.