Lan Xia leaned in, whispering conspiratorially.
"Let me tell you something. Men and women are the same. If they hold things in for too long, they get sick. Is what your uncle's doing normal? I don't get it. Maybe… maybe he really is ill."
Song Yue clenched her teeth. The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. His restraint, his distance, the way he always stopped at the last second. If he wasn't sick, why would he torture himself like this?
Then there was only one answer.
He needed treatment.
She dropped her chopsticks, picked up a drumstick, and took a decisive bite. After school, she would go home. She would find him. If he were ill, she would cure him.
Around them, students whispered and stared. Song Yue ate calmly, unfazed, while their gazes flicked between her and Bi Ge with fascination. No one could tell who would end up "winning" her.
Song Weisha, sitting nearby, sneered. "You really have no class at all. No upbringing."
