Chapter 8 She’s a Buzzkill You’re Not My Boyfriend Yet…

Chapter 8: She Spoils the Mood—You’re Not My Boyfriend Yet…

Tao Jiang fell silent for a moment. In that instant, countless memories flashed through her mind—but only for a second.

“How could I possibly like Qin You?” She shook her head, denying it naturally. “He’s the one *you* like—and you’re my best friend. Why would I steal him from you?”

“Even if I like him, that doesn’t mean others can’t,” Yu Kui frowned, feeling this wasn’t a valid reason. “You have every right to like him too. But if you do, I hope we’re honest with each other. No matter the outcome, we’ll still be friends.”

Yu Kui’s words were clear and straightforward—she hated deception and refused to let misunderstandings fester between friends.

Tao Jiang seemed amused by her seriousness. “What if… I *did* like Qin You? What would you do?”

Yu Kui’s heart skipped a beat—but she replied instantly: “We can compete fairly.”

“And if Qin You chooses *me*?” Tao Jiang’s smile remained, but her eyes turned cold. “After we get together—what will you do? Will you hate me?”

“If he follows his heart and chooses someone he truly likes, then you two are meant for each other. As a friend, I’d bless you both.” Yu Kui didn’t smile; her tone was utterly serious.

Her gaze was so direct that Tao Jiang couldn’t meet it.

How could she be so generous after harboring feelings for her childhood sweetheart for so long? Did it truly not matter if he were taken away? What gave Yu Kui the right to be so magnanimous? It was as if *both* she and Qin You had become irrelevant. Infuriating.

How could she answer so calmly? Where did that confidence come from? Suggesting a fair competition—did she even know Qin You had already…?

Tao Jiang’s smile gradually faded. She looked quietly at Yu Kui, her voice slightly cold. “Yu Kui—no matter what gave you the wrong idea, I *don’t* like Qin You. I won’t pursue him. You don’t need to ask me such questions—it feels like you’re questioning our friendship, and I don’t like that.”

Yu Kui’s eyes widened. Tao Jiang sighed. “Do you know how much it hurt me when you asked that? Qin You and I don’t even have anything in common. How could I possibly like him? You treat Qin You like a treasure—but I don’t.”

Yu Kui gazed at Tao Jiang’s delicate, fair face. Tao Jiang had countless admirers; she received love letters from students across all grades almost daily—and dismissed them without a second thought. Perhaps she shouldn’t have asked this question at all. Yet, once she learned Tao Jiang didn’t like Qin You, relief washed over her—she realized she’d overreacted. If Tao Jiang *had* liked him, she wouldn’t have been so calm.

“I’m sorry…” Yu Kui began to apologize—but Tao Jiang cut her off. “Don’t apologize to me. It’s *my* fault as a friend—for making you doubt me. *I* should be the one apologizing.”

Hearing that, Yu Kui felt even more guilty.

“Alright—don’t overthink it,” Tao Jiang took her arm again. “I know what you’re worried about. You can put your heart at ease now. Qin You is your childhood friend—now and always.”

Yu Kui’s cheeks flushed faintly. “Then… don’t be angry, okay?”

“I’m not angry,” Tao Jiang said, glancing toward the school building ahead—her eyes holding something only she understood. “We’re best friends. I could *never* be angry with you.”

Yu Kui didn’t speak—but squeezed Tao Jiang’s hand, her tense heart finally relaxing.

After the sports event, the classroom returned to its usual academic rigor. Yu Kui’s midterm results were far better than expected—small but steady improvements in English and math. Though modest, she was satisfied—and decided to increase her nightly study time to reach her ideal scores.

Tao Jiang’s results, however, were startling. Whether due to test anxiety or her recent transfer and adjustment to the new environment, her grades plummeted into the below-average range. The English teacher called her out in class, stressing the urgent need to strengthen fundamentals and catch up quickly.

Tao Jiang pressed her lips together, embarrassment coloring her expression. After class, Yu Kui and several classmates rushed to comfort her. Yu Kui offered to tutor her—but Tao Jiang declined immediately. “It’s fine—I’ve already found an excellent tutor. With his help, my grades will definitely improve.”

“Did your family arrange it?” Yu Kui asked curiously—she’d never heard Tao Jiang mention a tutor before. “What does he teach?”

“Everything,” Tao Jiang replied with a slight smile. “He’s academically outstanding—there’s no subject he can’t handle.”

“Is he a student?” Yu Kui was surprised—she’d assumed Tao Jiang had hired a professional tutor.

“Yes,” Tao Jiang’s mood visibly brightened at the mention of her tutor. “He dedicates hours every night to tutoring me. He’s the most responsible teacher I’ve ever met.”

Hearing this, Yu Kui was reminded of when Qin You had tutored her—his grades were stellar, too, and his explanations were thorough and patient.

“Is he a student at our school?”

Tao Jiang paused—her eyes glinting mischievously. “That’s a secret.”

Yu Kui took this as confirmation—but assumed Tao Jiang was simply too shy to reveal his identity. “Studying is important—but make sure you stay safe when you’re with him.”

“I know,” Tao Jiang said, studying Yu Kui’s face. A soft, knowing smile touched her lips and eyes—as if she’d just thought of something delightful. “He’s a good person. He won’t hurt me.”

Yu Kui wanted to say more—but seeing Tao Jiang’s radiant expression, she didn’t want to spoil the mood. Still, she resolved to meet him someday—to ensure he was trustworthy.

Yet Tao Jiang kept him carefully hidden. Whenever Yu Kui asked about him, Tao Jiang would adopt a dreamy, lovesick look—a stark contrast to her usual reserve. When Yu Kui teased, “Are you in love?” Tao Jiang merely laughed softly. “Not yet.”

“Let’s wait until after high school to date,” Yu Kui suggested. “By then, we’ll be adults—and can be more responsible to each other.”

“Why are *you* more worried than I am?” Tao Jiang pinched Yu Kui’s chubby cheeks. “Dating isn’t just up to me—it depends on whether *he* takes the initiative. If he pursues me, *then* I’ll consider it.” Her tone brimmed with confidence—as if certain the boy would chase her without hesitation.

Yu Kui felt a pang of envy. Tao Jiang had already found someone she genuinely liked—while she and Qin You hadn’t progressed *at all*.

Lately, Qin You had been unusually busy. Once school ended, he became nearly unreachable. Even when Yu Kui reached out, he gently declined—citing study commitments. Even Yu Kui’s mother was surprised he no longer came over for meals. When she cooked his favorite dishes and invited him, he refused. After several attempts, she gave up.

Qin You had matured. He was no longer the little boy entrusted to their care—and Yu Kui’s mother no longer disturbed him.

On weekends, Yu Kui invited him to the library—but he declined again, saying he had other plans.

After several such weekends, Yu Kui sensed her relationship with Qin You growing distant. Before, no matter what she wanted to do, he was always by her side. Now—outside of school—they had virtually no contact—as if they’d become mere classmates.

The realization left her deeply saddened. She sent Qin You a long message: *What are you doing? Why do you never have time? Has something happened?*

She’d always been direct—preferring blunt questions over vague hints.

Little did she know Qin You was currently at an arcade with Tao Jiang. They’d just watched a popular movie, played claw machines—and behaved, unmistakably, like a couple.

Over the past two months—whether at school or home—Qin You had devoted immense time to Tao Jiang: tutoring her, taking her out, fulfilling her every wish without reservation.

“Who’s messaging you?” Tao Jiang covered his phone screen the moment she saw him checking it. “Is it Yu Kui?”

Qin You subtly pulled his hand away—but Tao Jiang grabbed it. “I’m *asking* you.”

His gaze shifted from the phone to her face. Tao Jiang looked mildly annoyed—yet provocatively defiant. “Is she asking where you are? Are you going to reply?”

Qin You didn’t answer. He slipped his phone away—and firmly clasped Tao Jiang’s hand, answering her with action instead of words.

Tao Jiang smiled sweetly, leaning softly against him. Her voice—unlike its usual cool detachment around Yu Kui—was especially warm and charming. “If Yu Kui knew you were being so heartless… do you think she’d cry? She’s been so good to you—how can you bear it?”

“Shut up,” Qin You knew she was deliberately provoking him. He gripped her wrist tightly, irritation flaring. “Stop bringing her up.”

“Feeling guilty?” Tao Jiang lifted her eyes, lowering her voice. “Afraid she’ll find out we’re hanging out behind her back?”

Qin You pressed his lips together, staring intently at her. “Isn’t it a buzzkill to mention her *now*?”

Tao Jiang paused—then laughed even more brightly. She playfully poked his chest. “If she knew you said *that*, she’d really cry. She cares about you *so much*…”

Her final words carried a faint, sharp edge of jealousy—as if lamenting that this boy still had a childhood friend who’d occupied over a decade of his life. How enviable.

“She has nothing to do with me,” Qin You retorted instinctively. “Even if she cares about me—she’s *not* like you.”

As he spoke, he leaned in and wrapped his arms around Tao Jiang—his meaning unspoken but unmistakable: *You know very well who I care about, don’t you?*

His embrace was warm, broad—enveloping her completely. From afar, they looked inseparable—like a perfect couple.

“What are you doing?” Tao Jiang pushed lightly against his chest, feigning reserve. “I haven’t agreed to your confession yet. You’re *not* my boyfriend…”