After spending over an hour in the library reading academic papers and delivering her lab report to Professor Lin's office, Elena Shen finally emerged from the research building. It was only four in the afternoon.
Standing outside the laboratory building, Elena tilted her head to gaze at the sun still high in the sky. Her waist still ached from sitting too long, and she instinctively rubbed it as she thought things through.
She didn't head straight back to the Yushan Residence. Instead, she decided to return to her own apartment first.
She needed to kill some time—or perhaps come up with a reasonable excuse to stay the night there.
Once that thought settled, Elena didn't hesitate any longer.
She silenced her phone and headed straight for her apartment.
Inside the elevator, she was still contemplating what kind of excuse might satisfy Ethan Jiang. He knew her class schedule like the back of his hand, so not going back tonight would definitely raise his suspicions. What reason could she give that would sound both plausible and acceptable?
She hadn't yet come up with a satisfactory lie.
Ding—the elevator chimed softly as it stopped on the sixth floor.
Still lost in thought, Elena stepped out and walked toward her apartment, ready to unlock the door with her fingerprint.
But just as she exited the elevator, a sudden force clamped down on her arm without warning.
Her phone, its screen still lit, fell to the floor with a loud slap. Before she could react, she was yanked behind the emergency stairwell door and shoved against the icy wall.
A scream instinctively welled up in her throat.
But just as she was about to cry out, her eyes lifted—and her voice stalled in her throat the moment she recognized the face before her.
It was Adrian Jiang.
His expression was dark, his gaze stormy.
Elena's brows furrowed deeply, surprise and disbelief flashing in her eyes.
But she had no intention of having any sort of conversation in this posture.
She pushed against him, trying to break free.
The adrenaline that had surged when he first grabbed her still throbbed violently in her ears.
Her face turned pale, lips tightly pressed together.
But Adrian, clearly acting out of character today, showed no intention of letting her go.
Just as she managed to push him away a little, ready to escape through the stairwell door, he caught her by the shoulders and pinned her back against the wall.
"What are you afraid of?"
His voice was low, tinged with a mocking laugh. But there was no warmth in his eyes, only a chilling sharpness. Even the slight curl of his lips seemed carved from ice.
"Elena, we can't even talk now?"
She didn't know what was wrong with him today.
But it was obvious—he had been drinking.
The faint scent of alcohol on him seemed to thicken in the narrow space, mingled with a dangerous uncertainty.
"You call this talking?" Her tone was taut, guarded. She stared at him with wary eyes. "Adrian Jiang, let me go."
He scoffed.
Instead of loosening his grip, his fingers tightened.
Then, as she struggled again, his gaze fell on the fading mark on her neck—a kiss mark. His eyes darkened, and the fingers around her wrist lost all restrained.
Looking at her resistance, her guarded eyes, he suddenly leaned in, as if to kiss her lips.
Elena turned her head sharply, just avoiding him.
The relief she'd felt upon recognizing a familiar face had completely vanished, replaced by a renewed tension brought on by his erratic, almost deranged behavior.
He gripped her wrist harder, the pads of his fingers grinding coldly against her skin, his gaze locked on that mark on her neck.
Then his voice came again, cold and careless, yet tinged with venom:
"What, I can't? Elena?"
A cold fury surged into her chest.
She struggled harder, but his grip remained firm.
Her breath turned frigid, eyes fixed on him with icy clarity as she reminded him of where they now stood.
"Adrian Jiang, I've already registered my marriage with your brother. And you—aren't you the one who has a girlfriend now?"
He cut her off, his expression twisting into something half-mocking, half-scornful.
"Just a political marriage, isn't it, Elena?"
His voice softened, as if he were still the gentle, familiar boy who had grown up by her side—an illusion only his tone maintained.
"For all these years, everyone assumed you were meant to be with me."
Elena couldn't fathom what madness had taken hold of him today.
Yes, for years, everyone had believed it would be her and him.
But it was also Adrian who, during those two years, allowed her to be humiliated, to become the laughingstock of their social circle.
He'd rejected the family-arranged marriage, and while she couldn't force him to marry her, that didn't mean she wasn't affected.
Time and again, while their engagement was still presumed intact, he let Grace Su publicly humiliate her. Let the media run rampant with rumors. She had no right to complain, no position to blame him—but that didn't mean she wasn't hurt. That didn't mean she didn't care.
"Yes, everyone thought the engagement was ours. But Adrian Jiang, it was you who refused the match. You were the one who said no."
"So—" He tightened his grip around her wrist. Countless unreadable emotions swirled in his eyes—mocking, conflicted, cold.
"So I reject the family's arrangement, and you immediately run to my brother, is that it?"
"I say no, and you marry Ethan the moment he returns. Is that how it is?"
His voice grew darker, the fury in his eyes almost uncontainable. His fingertips skimmed across the lingering mark on her neck, his emotions boiling to the surface—anger, jealousy, bitterness—pushing him to say things he might later regret.
He barely restrained himself, but still the question slipped out, a question he'd never found an answer to:
"Elena Shen, how can you separate your emotions from your marriage so cleanly?"
She had never loved him—he realized that now.
Yet because of the family arrangement, she'd called him "brother" for years, remained quietly by his side.
And when he refused the marriage, she moved out of the Jiang estate without a word, severing all ties. Then, within a month of Ethan's return, she married his older brother.
Elena dropped her gaze. And when his grip finally loosened, she yanked her arm free.
"Adrian Jiang, my marriage to Ethan has nothing to do with you. You were the one who rejected the engagement—you've lost any right to question me."
And with that, she didn't pause.
She stepped out of the stairwell and quickly unlocked her apartment door.
With a resounding bang, she slammed it shut behind her.
Adrian stood alone in the empty stairwell, a bitter laugh escaping his lips.
His fingers still held the fading warmth of her wrist.
He clenched his fist hard, trapping that last trace of warmth in his palm.
Beneath the thin layer of mockery on his face, deeper still in his eyes, something heavy and unspoken flickered—pain he'd never dared reveal to anyone.
Rage and jealousy churned violently in his chest, whispering to him, daring him to cross lines he shouldn't.
Adrian squeezed his eyes shut, fighting with all he had to suppress those stormy feelings.
Then he slammed his fist against the cold concrete wall.
His knuckles split open—bright red against pale skin.
But he didn't seem to notice.
The surrounding air turned frigid. The darkness in his eyes remained.
No one knew how long he had been standing there.
Eventually, he leaned against the wall, forcing every emotion back into its cage.
His knuckles were a mess of blood and torn skin, but he didn't spare them a glance.
Only when the chaos in his heart had been quelled did he slowly take out his phone from his coat pocket.
Lowering his eyes, Adrian typed out a message—a quiet apology to Elena.