Chapter 20: Can’t Turn Back Anymore

Tick-tock, tick-tock..

Tick-tock-tick—— The sound that followed didn’t belong to the clock.

Jiang Cheng awoke as if from a dream.

She instinctively stepped back, her waist hitting the desk—pain exploded sharply, making her clench her teeth.

She didn’t have time to check if her waist was bruised.

Hurriedly, she pulled up her sleeve, revealing the black wristband on her wrist.

Wang Ziyue narrowed her eyes, her gaze flicking briefly to Jiang Cheng’s waist before walking over, her tone carrying a hint of helplessness.

“You…”

But Jiang Cheng was staring dead at the blood-red “Failed” flashing on the wristband.

It looked just like the game-over screen of a failed game, the red letters still flickering.

Jiang Cheng’s mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out.

She desperately pressed the red button on the back, but there was no response.

“Doesn’t your waist hurt? Or do you not know how to answer my question?”

Wang Ziyue’s earlier irritation had faded, replaced by a tone that sounded unintentionally harsh.

She regretted her words the moment they left her mouth.

After all, how could anyone actually switch between male and female… this wasn’t a fantasy novel.

She’d come to find Jiang Cheng partly because she wanted to see her, but also to find out what her relationship was with that boy, Jiang Cheng.

From what she knew, Jiang Xiaoyue and Jiang Cheng, mother and son, had no relatives in this city.

Yet this girl, Jiang Cheng, had appeared out of nowhere, inexplicably connected to them.

Suddenly, Jiang Cheng raised her head, her tear-filled eyes glimmering.

She was crying…

Wang Ziyue’s mind went blank.

She instinctively reached out to wipe the tears, but Jiang Cheng pushed her hand away.

Her voice was cold—colder than during their very first meeting.

“What do you want to know?”

Jiang Cheng weakly removed the wristband.

The countdown on it had already hit zero.

Tears flowed uncontrollably down her cheeks.

“I…” Wang Ziyue was confused, unable to understand what she’d done to make Jiang Cheng so desperate.

Maybe it was what she had said earlier—

Or should I call you Jiang Cheng instead?

“You don’t even know what you want to ask…” Jiang Cheng gave a bitter smile.

A teardrop hung at the corner of her eye, sliding down to hit the floor.

For the past two weeks, she’d been mentally preparing herself, bolstered by her mother’s encouragement.

But now that it was all over, she felt utterly hollow.

“I… I just want to know what your relationship is with Jiang Cheng.”

Wang Ziyue’s hesitation and worry stripped away her usual composure.

Facing this much younger girl, she actually felt a trace of fear.

“Does it matter?” 

Jiang Cheng wiped her tears.

“I…”

“Don’t worry. He won’t appear in this world ever again.”

She emphasized the words ‘won’t appear again’.

The sheer weight of those words made Jiang Cheng’s heart ache.

Her breathing grew heavy.

“Won’t appear…?”

Wang Ziyue grew more and more confused, but Jiang Cheng’s demeanor made it clear she didn’t want to explain further.

Jiang Cheng walked toward the window.

It opened easily with a light push, setting off alarm bells in Wang Ziyue’s mind.

“Calm down.”

Jiang Cheng turned around, her expression still cold as ice.

“I just want to feel the wind.”

“…Alright.”

And she did as she said.

Leaning against the window, Jiang Cheng let the breeze wash over her.

The classroom felt too suffocating.

Though only two desks separated them, Wang Ziyue found herself unable to take even a single step closer.

Where did it all go wrong…?

She watched the girl’s face, trying to find an answer—but there was none.

Yet that momentary despair she’d seen earlier couldn’t have been faked.

Jiang Cheng must have gone through something painful.

Her eyes fell upon the wristband lying on the podium.

She walked over and picked it up.

The dark screen flickered back to life, showing only one thing:

00:00:00

It looked like a countdown timer.

Turning it over, she found a red button on the back.

Jiang Cheng silently watched her handle the wristband without stopping her.

To her now, the device had lost all meaning.

“Was it because of this thing…?”

Wang Ziyue didn’t finish her sentence.

She couldn’t read Jiang Cheng’s expression anymore.

Jiang Cheng slowly closed her eyes.

Bitterness. 

Anger. 

Grief. 

Acceptance.

A mixture of them all.

“Chengcheng?”

A female voice called from outside the classroom.

Both of them turned toward the sound.

Zhou Qingying peeked in through the doorway.

After the awards ceremony, she’d wanted to take a picture with Jiang Cheng.

But she’d been told that Jiang Cheng had been called away by the principal.

When she went to her uncle to ask, he’d smiled and said, “Ah… bad timing, she was called away by President Wang.”

“President Wang?”

“Yeah, the one who donated money to our school, remember? She came for a visit before.”

Zhou Qingying vaguely remembered—at that time, both Jiang Cheng and Wang Yu had been called out to greet her.

She recalled the woman’s overwhelming presence.

Now, looking at the calm yet intimidating woman before her, Zhou Qingying instantly knew this must be that President Wang.

The woman looked at her quietly, her gaze steady.

Zhou Qingying felt a wave of inferiority.

She turned to Jiang Cheng—pink hair fluttering by the open window, strands brushing against her lips.

Her eyes were slightly red. She looked like she’d been crying.

Zhou Qingying’s gaze darted uncertainly between the two.

“Do you need something?”

Wang Ziyue’s voice had returned to its cool, distant tone.

“Uh… we’re taking a class photo. I came to get Chengcheng.”

“She’s—”

Wang Ziyue frowned, ready to refuse.

But Jiang Cheng cut her off.

“Let’s go.”

Without hesitation, she walked out of the classroom.

Zhou Qingying gave Wang Ziyue an apologetic smile before hurrying after her.

“Tch…”

Wang Ziyue sighed, feeling oddly empty as she watched them leave.

She slipped the wristband onto her own wrist and called her driver.

“Wait for me at the gate.”

“Yes, President Wang.”

The driver, having just dropped off Secretary Fang at the office, glanced at her when he received the call.

“What’s wrong? Did President Wang say something?”

“Not really… but something feels off.”

He’d been driving for Wang Ziyue for years—he could tell when her tone was different.

This time, it carried a subtle edge.

He slapped his thigh and shot Secretary Fang a sympathetic look.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Just say it.”

“I think… President Wang’s in a really bad mood.”

He deliberately stretched the word “really.”

That tone was the same one she used before scolding someone.

Gulp.

Secretary Fang swallowed nervously, his hands trembling slightly as he held his folder.

What had happened at that school?

Just then, his phone rang.

“Inform all departments. We’ll have a short meeting in a bit. Yes… about the financial report. And make sure all department heads and the New City project leads attend.”

A short meeting? 

Secretary Fang sighed inwardly, lighting a candle in his heart for the unlucky attendees.

Then he sent out the notice in the company group chat.

An hour later, the large conference room was filled.

Everyone sat anxiously, glancing toward the door.

The glass door swung open.

Wang Ziyue strode in, eyes sweeping across the room before she sat down.

Secretary Fang placed the organized documents beside her, but she didn’t even look at them.

Silence filled the room.

Everyone waited for her to speak.

Those with sharp eyes noticed that the usual silver bracelet on her wrist had been replaced by a plain black electronic wristband.

She stared at it quietly for a long time before finally speaking.

“Today, I won’t talk. I want to hear what you have to say.”

People exchanged glances.

And in each other’s eyes, they saw the same two words—

We’re doomed.

Meanwhile, outside the bustling school auditorium, the entire Class 2, Year 2 gathered for a photo.

Their lead actors and supporting cast stood proudly in the middle.

Teacher Ma held the camera, smiling brightly at her students.

“Is the watermelon sweet?”

“Sweet!”

A burst of laughter followed.

The laughter of youth—pure and simple—filled the air.

They were thrilled by their victory in the Best Performance Award.

At the center stood a pink-haired girl holding the trophy.

Her lips curved in a faint smile, but there was no joy in her eyes.

A soft breeze brushed past.

Jiang Cheng instinctively looked up at the orange-red sky.

Crimson and gold intertwined like a dream.

It’s so beautiful…

Such dazzling sunsets—Jiang Cheng would never see them again.