WSGCC 13

Chapter : 13

The rose was truly delicate. Just a little touch, and it had begun to wither. He had to hold it carefully in the palm of his hand.

Today was Jiang Shiyan’s graduation banquet, held on the 15th floor. Jiang Shiyan hadn’t invited him, so he shouldn’t have come.

Next week, Jiang Shiyan would leave the country. Why even come now?

That night he had been drunk, but he still clearly remembered Jiang Shiyan saying that there was nothing between them and that he had misunderstood everything.

Song Ling smiled bitterly at himself. It really was just his own wishful thinking.

The two of them had been in this ambiguous state for so long, yet they had never even hugged. What kind of relationship could they possibly have?

He had confessed to Jiang Shiyan right after high school. Jiang Shiyan had said he would give him a satisfying answer after college. All these years, he had waited faithfully, willing to ignore all the unfairness life had dealt him, just to be with Jiang Shiyan.

But this was the answer he got.

Jiang Shiyan was a proper young master, elegant and ambitious, a high-standing flower on a tall mountain. And he? Nominally the second son of the Song family, but just an illegitimate child—a tool raised by the Song family.

A broken rose and a dirty shirt—this was his true, messy self.

Song Ling picked up the slightly withered rose, laughed coldly, and took step after step upward.

He had never been someone drawn toward the light. He didn’t lick his wounds alone, but anyone who toyed with him would pay the price.

Born in the swamp, one should drag others down to hell as well.

Zhou Qingluo and Lou Yang finished setting up the dessert table and went aside to rest. After the banquet ended, they still had to clean up and bring the trays back to the store.

While arranging the desserts, Zhou Qingluo kept glancing secretly at Jiang Shiyan.

True white moonlight—gentle, elegant, refined, every gesture full of upbringing, radiating a peace-making aura.

And, crucially, he was quite handsome.

Song Ling had good taste.

Lou Yang said, “Look closely—you two don’t look alike at all.”

Zhou Qingluo smiled: “I’m more handsome than him.”

Lou Yang made a disgusted face: “He’s a proper gentle little white rabbit. You? That sly, seductive look—just a greedy old fox.”

They were chatting idly about Jiang Shiyan when suddenly the lively, orderly atmosphere around them grew quiet. Whispers began among the crowd:

“Wasn’t he not invited? Why is he here?”

“I heard he confessed to Young Master Jiang, but Young Master Jiang refused.”

“How could Young Master Jiang like him? Nominally the second son of the Song family… what does the Song family have to do with him?”

“This kind of crazy person is the scariest. If you show him any kindness, he sticks to you. Poor Young Master Jiang.”

“Yeah, crazy and homosexual… so scary.”

Zhou Qingluo looked over and saw Song Ling holding the crushed rose. He lifted the corner of his mouth, raised his chin, and strode forward.

His snow-white shirt still bore the bloodstains from earlier.

Song Ling walked straight ahead without looking around. The people pointing and whispering stepped aside, making a path wherever he went.

His destination was Jiang Shiyan, holding a glass of red wine and accepting everyone’s congratulations.

For some reason, Zhou Qingluo suddenly felt that Song Ling looked like a warrior moving against the tide—scarred and battered, yet brave and alone.

Song Ling casually picked up a glass of red wine and walked to Jiang Shiyan’s side.

Jiang Shiyan was instantly overshadowed by a dark presence and instinctively stepped back.

Song Ling didn’t move closer, just clinked his glass with Jiang Shiyan’s.

Ding! Everyone seemed frozen; all eyes turned to him.

Song Ling smiled:

“Shiyan, congratulations on your graduation.”

He said this and drained the glass in one gulp.

Jiang Shiyan frowned: “Song Ling, you can’t drink. Don’t you know? And you’re smoking too.”

Song Ling leaned close and whispered in a voice only Jiang Shiyan could hear: “Song Jinyi still needs blood in two months. This little alcohol and nicotine won’t matter.”

Jiang Shiyan’s face went awkward as if some secret had been exposed. He tried to explain: “You know I didn’t mean it that way.”

Song Ling handed him the rose:

“Juliet Rose, classic, noble, for you.”

Jiang Shiyan looked at the already slightly ruined petals, seeing nothing classic or noble.

He didn’t take it and frowned: “Come outside with me.”

Song Ling: “Four years ago, didn’t you accept my rose? Don’t want it today?”

His voice wasn’t loud, but everyone around could hear clearly.

People stared at Jiang Shiyan strangely.

“Ah? Does Mr. Jiang have a history with him?”

“Is Mr. Jiang also… gay?”

“I heard from his mom he used to date the Zhao family girl.”

Jiang Shiyan’s face turned red. He lowered his voice: “Song Ling, are you here to ruin this?”

Song Ling smiled:

“You said you’d give me a satisfying answer in four years. I’ve been waiting. Now say it, hmm?”

Jiang Shiyan awkwardly excused himself to the crowd and tried to pull Song Ling outside.

Song Ling didn’t move, staring straight at him:

“Why didn’t you refuse me directly four years ago?”

Jiang Shiyan opened his mouth, but no words came out.

Song Ling snorted and turned to leave.

Passing the dessert table, he raised his hand and placed the Juliet Rose into the center of the 30-inch matcha mousse cake.

It was Jiang Shiyan’s favorite cake, custom-made from the only cake shop.

The beautiful cake was instantly ruined, clashing with the elegant atmosphere.

Zhou Qingluo: “……”

Lou Yang: “……”

Lou Yang whispered miserably:

“High society is really intense… I spent almost three hours decorating that cake!”