Chapter Thirty-Two: The Argument in the Car

Mo Qinghan did not return to her dormitory but went straight to her apartment. She was afraid that if she went back, she and He Yurou would end up arguing uncontrollably again over Zhao Qingwu.

In the school parking lot, Zhao Qingwu had just gotten into his car, the door still open, when He Yurou climbed into the passenger seat, eyes blazing with anger. She demanded, “Everyone at school is saying you’re together with Mo Qinghan. It’s not that she schemed to seduce you, but that you two are mutually attracted, isn’t that right?”

Zhao Qingwu’s face betrayed his disdain, his brows furrowed with a hint of displeasure, and his tone was cold and stiff as he retorted, “Miss He Yurou, may I ask in what capacity you are interrogating me about this? As the former girlfriend of Mo Xuwuyou, or as an unfamiliar stranger? Either way, I see no reason to answer your question. Is that clear?”

He Yurou, sitting in the passenger seat, heard his words and couldn’t help but twitch her lips, her lightly made-up face suddenly becoming rather unlikeable. Her eyes stared directly at Zhao Qingwu, whose face was written with open aversion for her. She knew this was not the outcome she wanted. All she wanted was Zhao Qingwu himself. After a few seconds of composure, she suppressed her dissatisfaction and softened her voice. “Mo Qinghan isn’t as innocent as you think. Do you know how deep she hides her true self? If I hadn’t read her diary, I wouldn’t even know she got close to me just to get closer to you. Otherwise, with her family background…”

He Yurou’s words were still flowing when Zhao Qingwu sharply interrupted, “Would you please get out of my car? I don’t want the air in here to become as nauseating as you are.”

Hearing Zhao Qingwu’s assessment, tears welled up in He Yurou’s eyes, and she cried out in grievance, “Is that scheming Mo Qinghan already…?” She paused for a few seconds, then forced herself to finish, “Already slept with you.” These words were forced out after much struggle, her teeth clenched tightly.

Zhao Qingwu’s gaze turned razor-sharp as he looked at He Yurou; he had never imagined such words would come from her mouth. A smile, clear even to He Yurou, played at the corner of his lips.

“Don’t let those filthy eyes of yours pollute your heart as well. Since you love sitting in this car so much, by all means, stay.” With that, he opened the door and walked away without a backward glance.

Seeing this, He Yurou also got out, wiped her tears, and shouted after Zhao Qingwu’s retreating figure, “I’ll find proof that Mo Qinghan isn’t as simple as you think!”

But Zhao Qingwu ignored her, continuing on his way as if she weren’t even speaking to him. He Yurou, seeing his indifference, slammed the car door shut with a loud bang, startling the passing students, who looked at her as though she were some sort of monster. Already in a foul mood, He Yurou snapped at them, “What are you looking at? Is there something so interesting?”

Her tightly clenched fists were painfully pressed by her long nails, but she didn’t ease her grip, wishing she could drive them deeper into her flesh. This pain was nothing compared to the agony Mo Qinghan had caused her—it paled in comparison. Her teeth bit hard into her lips as she stared in the direction Zhao Qingwu had gone, her eyes burning with fury, silently vowing, “Mo Qinghan, just you wait. I’ll tear that false mask right off your face.”