One Day Earlier

April 1st—April Fools' Day.

Netizens claimed it was the perfect day for confessions. If rejected, all you had to do was laugh three times: "Haha, gotcha!" Then gracefully exit stage left.

Yi Youxia had the same idea. Summoning her courage, she approached her longtime crush, Xia Yihan—the school’s golden boy.

"Senior… I… I like you. Ever since our first meeting, I’ve liked you. Your surname is Xia, and mine is Youxia—I think it’s fate. Even though I’m not great right now, I’ll work hard. I’ll make a name for myself in the fashion world and become someone worthy of you. Please… put me on your list of potential girlfriends, okay?"

Before she could even finish, a burst of mocking laughter rang out nearby.

"How amusing. So just because we share the same surname, we’re fated? There are so many Xias in this world—should they all date you?"

The voice belonged to her mortal enemy, Yang Xiaorui, who sauntered over with a sway of her hips, casually draping her arm around Xia Yihan’s.

Was this her way of rubbing it in? Yi Youxia’s heart clenched painfully.

Xia Yihan’s arm tensed, as if trying to pull away—but he held back. "Yi Youxia, I…" He trailed off, unsure whether to reject her or explain.

Yang Xiaorui cut him off with a smirk. "Yihan and I are getting married!"

The words struck like a thunderbolt.

Should she laugh now? Tell them it was all an April Fools' joke? But her face refused to obey—her muscles locked, her throat choked with acid, unable to utter a single sound.

Yang Xiaorui beamed, leaning coquettishly against Xia Yihan’s shoulder. "Yihan, Dad wants us home for dinner. Let’s go."

Xia Yihan reached out, gently ruffling Yi Youxia’s hair—as if comforting her. "Sorry, Yi Youxia." With a heavy sigh, he left with Yang Xiaorui.

Bang.

The sound of her heart shattering echoed in her ears.

Frozen in place, she stood motionless, letting the cold wind lash at her, the drizzle soak through her clothes.

Right now, all she needed was alcohol—to numb the agony in her chest.

Spotting a bar across the street, True Colors, she stumbled inside.

The place was quiet—she was the only customer. Sliding onto a barstool, she ordered a Long Island Iced Tea—the perfect drink for heartbreak.

She wasn’t much of a drinker, and after a few glasses, dizziness swirled through her mind.

That’s when the second customer arrived.

He was devastatingly handsome—radiant as spring sunlight, luminous as autumn moonlight, instantly illuminating the dim bar.

The previously indifferent waitresses perked up, rushing over to flirt. But he didn’t even glance their way, his expression as cold as thousand-year-old Arctic ice, exuding zero warmth.

Normally, Yi Youxia would never approach a stranger. But tonight, drunk and utterly miserable, she swayed toward him with her glass.

"People who come to bars in daylight are either heartbroken or bored. Which one are you?" she slurred, eyes glazed.

Rong Zhenye ignored her, sipping his drink as if she hadn’t spoken.

But she didn’t care. Without invitation, she plopped down across from him. "Fine, I’ll assume you’re the latter. Someone as good-looking as you only exists to break hearts. Me? I’m the former. Today, I did something crazy—I finally confessed to the guy I’ve liked for five years. And guess what? He’s marrying my worst enemy."

She downed the rest of her drink in one go. "I feel awful. Since it’s just you and me here, why don’t we play a game? Dice. Loser drinks three shots."

Ridiculous.

Rong Zhenye smirked. Whatever. Might as well entertain myself.

Two hours later…

Even he—the legendary drinker—was drunk.