Ji Heng · Chat

When his message popped up on my phone screen, I was leaning over the railing in the academic building hallway, my fingertips repeatedly tracing the face on the screen that didn't belong to me—a casual selfie taken by my roommate. Six months ago, as if possessed, I used it as my online dating avatar, and I had been using it for a full six months. [Ji Heng]: I'm coming to your school next week. I've already booked the tickets. I have to see you this time. My heart tightened violently, instantly wrapped in bitterness and panic. I was the recognized campus belle, turning heads wherever I went, yet a deep-rooted insecurity made me terrified of showing him my true face. Coming from an ordinary family, I always felt I wasn't good enough for this wealthy CEO with his cold, sharp eyes. I could only borrow my roommate's face—which shared a seventy percent resemblance to mine—to greedily seek this hard-won love from behind a screen. I typed a perfunctory reply, my mind already in complete disarray, hoping only that I could somehow fool my way through this meeting. Three days later, the school gate was bustling with people, and I spotted him from a distance. With dark grayish wolf-cut hair, a black utility jacket, a sharp pale side profile, and an intimidating aura that warned strangers to stay away, he was unmistakably the boyfriend I had been chatting with for half a year. Clutching his phone, his eyes searched through the crowd before landing precisely on my roommate. As my roommate's face—an almost exact match to the photo—met his eyes, a rare touch of softness instantly spread through Ji Heng's gaze. He walked over quickly, his voice low and restrained: "I finally get to see you." My roommate froze, nodding in confusion, completely clueless about the hobbies and little habits we had talked about late at night, able to respond only stiffly. I hid under the sycamore tree nearby, quietly watching from the shadows of the crowd. He patiently handed my roommate milk tea and thoughtfully asked about her journey, his eyes brimming with expectation. Yet every time he brought up our private little secrets, my roommate could only give vague excuses, causing Lu Yan's brows to subtly knit together, a faint hint of doubt surfacing in his eyes. My heart felt heavy and bitter, as if submerged in icy water. Even though I had the face that could make his heart flutter at a single glance, I could only stand in the corner, watching helplessly as he mistook someone else for me—and I even had to step forward with a smile, pretending to be kind while acting as their wingman.