When Grace heard Jason's sharp words, she immediately turned on Ivan with venom in her voice.
"Ivan, why aren't you on your knees apologizing yet? Do you really think you're good enough to mess around with one of Jason's classmates? Quinn was just encouraging you, trying to help—did you actually believe you were some kind of prize?"
Her scolding was relentless, and for once, it wasn't directed at Quinn but in her defense. Jason and Quinn hadn't pressed her further about her earlier outburst, and Grace understood she had to show where she stood.
Ivan didn't hesitate. With a loud thud, he dropped to his knees on the café floor. It was almost like he'd been waiting for permission to do it all along.
He looked up at Jason with a pitiful smile and pleaded, "Jason, I'm sorry. I'm trash, I shouldn't have done this. But I swear—I never touched Quinn. She's innocent, she just wanted me to patch things up with my ex. That's all."
Then he crawled on his knees toward Grace, tears streaming down his face.
"Sis Lan, please—please put in a word for me. You know I've got nothing. If you cut me off now, those loan sharks will finish me. They'll kill me."
From there, he shuffled toward Quinn, sobbing harder.
"Quinn, I'm sorry. I trampled on your kindness, on your dignity. I don't deserve anything from you. You encouraged me, you even folded those paper cranes for me… and I repaid you by dragging you into this mess."
Before he could finish, Quinn's hand snapped across his face with a sharp crack. The slap was so loud the entire café went silent.
Ivan froze, stunned. He hadn't expected her to strike so hard, but he didn't dare protest.
"Yes, yes… you're right," he stammered, holding his cheek. "If it makes you feel better, you can hit me again. However many times you want."
Quinn's face was expressionless, her red-rimmed eyes filled with disgust rather than fury. That slap was enough—enough to sever whatever faint tie had once connected them. Looking at him now only made her feel sick.
Seeing she wouldn't raise her hand again, Ivan panicked. He smacked his own face several times, then grabbed a cup of coffee from the next table and dumped it over himself. The hot liquid ran down his shirt, staining it, making him look utterly pathetic.
Jason lifted his hand, and immediately the café waiter hurried over, nervous but respectful.
"Mr. Jason, do you need anything?"
Jason's tone was calm but commanding. "Sorry for the mess. I'll cover all of today's bills. Also—bring a free coffee for every guest here. I don't want anyone leaving inconvenienced."
The waiter's eyes lit up. A whole café of free drinks, all paid for in one swipe? That was a blessing.
Grace quickly stepped in. "How can we let Mr. Jason pay? I'll take care of it."
Jason inclined his head. "Fine. Then bring out a few more pots. Let him dump them over himself if he enjoys it. And don't waste the fresh brews—use the discarded coffee. Also… do you have an in-house announcement system? Play something for me."
Grace's heart skipped a beat. She knew what Jason meant.
The surrounding customers were still confused—many of them probably thought Quinn had been caught doing something shameful and was only being defended because Jason was rich. That couldn't stand.
Jason was going to clear her name publicly, because most of the people here is student, her reputation will get raked if he left like this.
The waiter obeyed without hesitation. Soon, Ivan was soaked through, shivering and dripping as pot after pot of coffee was poured over him. At the same time, the café speakers crackled to life.
A recording of Quinn's messages to Ivan played out for everyone to hear.
"This is the thousand paper cranes I folded before. I hope you find your fighting spirit again. And I hope you and your girlfriend can get back together like before."
The line was repeated three times.
Then came the small letter she'd tucked into the cranes—every word inside was encouragement, blessing, hope. No flirting, no hidden meanings. Just pure support.
The café grew silent as customers absorbed it. Then the murmurs began.
"She didn't try to steal him at all."
"She clearly liked him once, sure, but when she knew he had a girlfriend, she respected it. She even encouraged him to reconcile with her. That's rare."
"I can't believe I thought she was the other woman. I misjudged her."
"Honestly, the real blame is on Ivan. His sponsor should've been more cautious, but he's the one who betrayed everyone's trust."
"Yeah, it's all on him. She was innocent the whole time."
Jason leaned back in his chair, watching the scene unfold with calm satisfaction. Quinn's reputation was not just safe—it was vindicated.
The waiter, following Jason's quiet instructions, switched the broadcast to Ivan's group chat history with his so-called "friends."
As the messages played out, the café went dead silent—then erupted.
"Jesus Christ, what a piece of garbage."
"This guy isn't just scum—he's a whole landfill."
"Then Quinn isn't a mistress at all—she's the victim here. She had a crush on him once, but instead of respecting that, he used her feelings to play his pathetic games."
"Man… that hurts to hear. Secretly loving someone for years, blessing him and his girlfriend, and then having your sincerity trampled like this? That's brutal."
"I take back everything I said earlier. I was dead wrong. Quinn, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have judged without knowing the truth."
Jason wasn't done. He motioned for the waiter to circulate Ivan's phone and the carefully unfolded paper cranes Quinn had made. "Let them see for themselves," he said coolly, "so no one can claim it was faked later."
The crowd passed the evidence around in stunned silence. Each crane carried handwritten notes—every one filled with nothing but encouragement, blessings, and goodwill.
Ivan didn't even try to resist. He dropped lower on his knees, voice hoarse as he repeated for everyone to hear:
"Yes—yes, it's all my fault. Everything is my fault. I'm the scumbag here. She's innocent."
Quinn's throat tightened as she watched. Tears welled up again, but this time they weren't from humiliation. They were from relief. From being vindicated. From realizing that Jason hadn't just defended her—he had cleansed her reputation.
Just an hour ago, she'd been the café's laughingstock, accused of being a home-wrecking mistress. She knew if the rumor stuck, it would stain her forever. No one forgets that kind of scarlet letter.
But Jason had turned the tables.
She lifted her head and looked at him. Jason seemed taller somehow, framed by an aura that made him shine like he didn't belong in the same world as the rest of them. Magnificent. Steady. Warm as sunlight.
In that moment, Quinn realized—this was the prince she had been searching for all along.
Then the voice of the system chimed in Jason's mind.
"Quinn's favorability has increased +18. Current favorability: 63 → 91.Favorability has passed 80 and 90 thresholds. Status bar updated—please check."
Jason glanced at the updated profile in his interface:
Name: Quinn
Age: 21
Appearance: 8.5/10
Height: 5'7"
Weight: 124 lbs
Favorability: 91
Ex-boyfriend: None
Health: Clean
Opportunity:In life, we pass by countless opportunities. This function detects those around her so she doesn't miss them. Once detected, the system will notify you immediately. By supporting her, you can help create her perfect life.
Jason froze for a second. Over 90 already?
He wasn't exactly surprised. Quinn wasn't manipulative like Megan, or wild like Holly Larson. She was sincere—too sincere—and that sincerity had almost ruined her when paired with someone like Ivan.
But it was that same purity that made her value him now.
Jason's gaze lingered on the "Opportunity" line, and his lips curved slightly.
So this isn't just about her. The system detects opportunities around her… but it doesn't say I can't keep them for myself.
The corner of his mouth tugged upward, a quiet, knowing smile spreading across his face.
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