You found yourselves drawn together, united by shared passions and deep-seated interests that transcended the ordinary. It had been six long months since he’d ended things with his ex, and yet you bore the brunt of the blame for a relationship that was already crumbling. Now, in the eyes of others, you were reduced to a mere mistress—a label that stung, a word that felt like a curse. The hate directed at you was relentless; you received threats and vitriol so abundant it could fill an entire truck. Each message carved deeper into your spirit, as strangers defined who you were based solely on their narrow perceptions. All of this turmoil stemmed from something as simple as liking a boy.

“Hey, how are you?” Zhou asked, wrapping you in a tight embrace. His arms felt like a refuge amidst the chaos, a safe haven where the world’s judgments couldn’t reach you. He tried to comfort you, his warmth radiating a sense of understanding that was hard to find elsewhere.