CHAPTER 60: I JUST SEE HER BETTER THAN YOU DO.

"You!"

Mr. Qi’s voice boomed, sharp and full of outrage.

"Okay, that’s enough. Xiao Feng, you should say less, and Jingxuan, don’t get too excited." Mrs. Qi hurriedly intervened, sensing the thickening tension in the room.

She placed a hand on her husband’s chest, patting him lightly as if to signal for him to calm down, to take a breath before things spiraled further. The atmosphere was already charged, and Song Chengfeng’s bold confession seemed to have pushed Mr. Qi to the brink.

Mr. Qi, however, was not easily appeased. His eyes flared with indignation as he glared at Song Chengfeng. "Ling’er, don’t stop me," Mr. Qi scowled, his voice filled with frustration.

"This brat just boldly declared he wants to steal our daughter from us! How old is Jianyi? How old is this brat? Outrageous!"

His tone carried the weight of protective anger, the kind that every father felt when his daughter’s future seemed to be at risk. His words were laced with a sense of possessiveness, as if he believed no one could ever be good enough for his little girl, especially not someone who dared to confront him head-on.

His sharp gaze bore down on Song Chengfeng, who, despite the weight of Mr. Qi’s intimidating stance, stood his ground without flinching. The tension in the air was thick, each second stretching longer than the last as the two men silently squared off.

But Song Chengfeng didn’t falter. Instead of shrinking under Mr. Qi’s fierce glare, he raised his head, meeting the older man’s gaze with steady resolve. "Uncle Qi," he began, his tone respectful but firm, "I’m only twenty-six. Not too old for your daughter."

There was no hesitation in his words, no trace of fear or doubt. Song Chengfeng’s face remained serious, his determination clear. It was a statement of fact, one that refused to back down from the implied challenge in Mr. Qi’s earlier outburst.

Mrs. Qi, who had been observing both men closely, sighed inwardly. Her husband was notoriously difficult when it came to matters concerning their daughter, but Song Chengfeng’s unyielding spirit was just as hard to ignore.

The young man had a certain stubbornness to him, one that reminded her of her husband when he was younger—a trait that she found both frustrating and endearing.

For a brief moment, there was silence. Mr. Qi’s glare didn’t soften, but his scowl deepened, as though weighing Song Chengfeng’s words carefully. It was clear that Mr. Qi was not easily convinced, but the young man’s confidence had struck a chord, one that Mr. Qi couldn’t dismiss outright.

"Jingxuan, why do you let Xiao Feng’s words get to you so easily?" Mrs. Qi’s voice was soft but firm, gently admonishing her husband as she rested a calming hand on his arm. "He’s only asking to pursue Jianyi, not for her hand in marriage. And didn’t we agree before to not interfere in our daughter’s personal matters?"

Mr. Qi exhaled heavily, a sigh of reluctant acceptance. His posture relaxed ever so slightly, but the tension in his brow remained. His eyes, still sharp, darted to Qi Jianyi, who sat quietly as if distant from the conversation altogether.

Lost in thought, Qi Jianyi hadn’t realised the focus had shifted back to her. Her father’s voice, though now calmer, cut through her reverie like a sharp breeze, bringing her back to the present.

"Jianyi, tell dad," Mr. Qi’s tone was more measured but still tinged with irritation. "Do you... like him? No—do you agree to let this brat pursue you?" His words were laced with thinly veiled frustration, his usual composed demeanor fraying at the edges.

Mrs. Qi, watching the scene unfold, could only shake her head in mild exasperation at her husband’s persistence. Like everyone else, Mrs.Qi also turned to look at her daughter’s pale face.

Despite being the focus of every gaze in the room, Qi Jianyi kept her eyes fixed on Song Chengfeng, unblinking and steady. Yet, behind that calm facade, a whirlwind of uncertainty churned. Ever since she had discovered the diary, her life had felt like a haze, an indistinguishable blur between reality and something far more elusive.

Was this her life? Were these her feelings? Sometimes, she couldn’t even discern her true emotions toward the people who were supposed to be her parents in this world.

"Song Chengfeng," she finally spoke, her voice carrying an eerie calm, "I gave you my answer that day. I’m not interested in you, and I don’t have the time to give you a chance."

Qi Jianyi turned her head away, deliberately avoiding the expression of disappointment that she knew would mar his features. She couldn’t bear to look at it, not because she was affected by his emotions, but because it seemed like looking would tether her to something she didn’t want to feel.

"I’m too young to be involved in this kind of relationship," she continued, her tone as cold and distant as the chill in her words. "So, please, stop whatever plans you have in your mind."

Her dismissal hung heavily in the air, leaving Song Chengfeng with nothing to say. For once, his persistence found no foothold. Her words, so cold and unyielding, left no room for argument, no crack for him to wedge in his usual determination.

But it wasn’t her rejection that stung him the most—it was the emptiness in her eyes. There was no fire, no warmth, not even the slightest flicker of emotion. It was as if everything that made her who she was had been drained out, leaving behind only a shell.

That terrified him more than her cold words. It was a silence, a lifelessness that spoke louder than anything she could have said. And in that moment, Song Chengfeng found himself speechless, shaken not by rejection but by the haunting hollowness in her gaze.

In fact, Song Chengfeng was correct. Qi Jianyi was tired. Tired of the weight of living a life that wasn’t truly hers. To be trapped in someone else’s existence, to constantly play the role of another person’s daughter—it wore on her like a slowly tightening chain. Even the most patient person would feel suffocated after a while.

Her blunt and direct rejection echoed through the room, leaving everyone momentarily stunned. The silence that followed was heavy, thick with unspoken confusion and concern. Mr. Qi and Mrs. Qi exchanged bewildered glances, surprised by the cold detachment in their daughter’s voice.

Even He Zeqing, who had observed much of the scene in silence, couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for his friend.

"Xiao Feng, why don’t you head back for now?" Mrs. Qi finally intervened, her voice soft but firm. She could see it clearly—her daughter wasn’t going to give in, no matter how hard Song Chengfeng tried.

Qi Jianyi’s disinterest wasn’t a passing mood. It was deep-rooted, and forcing the situation would only strain things further. Mrs. Qi had no choice but to step in, hoping to ease the tension and give everyone a moment to breathe.

However, Song Chengfeng heard none of her words. His mind was consumed with Qi Jianyi, desperately searching her face for any sign—any crack in her mask—that might reveal her true feelings.

Seeing this, He Zeqing decided it was time to act. He stepped forward, gently placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. "Second Aunt, Chengfeng and I will head back for now. I’ll come visit later with my parents."

His tone was respectful, but there was a quiet firmness in it, a recognition that there was no point in staying any longer.

He tugged at Song Chengfeng, pulling him toward the door, but it was clear that Chengfeng’s thoughts were still with Qi Jianyi. But Qi Jianyi had already turned away, her gaze fixed somewhere far beyond the room, lost in thoughts she kept locked away from everyone.

It was over, at least for now. Song Chengfeng had no choice but to leave, yet as he walked out the door, an unsettling determination took root in his heart. He wasn’t going to give up. Not yet.

"Was getting rejected by her really such a huge blow?" He Zeqing asked with a mix of curiosity and amusement as they left the hospital behind, the tension from earlier still lingering in the air.

Song Chengfeng shot him a cold glance. "You don’t understand," he muttered, his voice sharp.

He Zeqing raised a brow, unfazed by the icy response. "Yes, you’re right. I don’t understand," he replied, a smug grin forming on his lips. "I’ve never been rejected." He puffed out his chest slightly, flaunting his unbroken record as if it were a badge of honour.

Song Chengfeng’s expression darkened even further. "You don’t understand because you’re not close to her." The words were ruthless, like cold water splashed over He Zeqing’s casual confidence.

For a moment, He Zeqing stiffened. That was true, and it hit harder than he expected. He hadn’t been close to Qi Jianyi before, not really. There had always been a distance between them, a gap he only recently started to feel compelled to bridge. But that sudden urge to protect her, to care for her like a sister, had come out of nowhere—and it all began at He Zejin’s birthday party. That was when things changed.

Song Chengfeng’s sharp remark dug into that vulnerable corner of He Zeqing’s heart, a blatant reminder that he wasn’t as close to Qi Jianyi as he wanted to be. And it didn’t help that Chengfeng just declared he knew her better than he did.

"You’ve only met her a few times, and you’re already claiming to know my cousin better than I do?" He Zeqing scoffed, his pride pricked by the insinuation.

"I’m not claiming," Song Chengfeng replied, his voice steady, unwavering. "I just see her better than you do."

The words hung between them, heavy with meaning. It wasn’t about how many times they’d met or how long they’d known her—it was about understanding. And in this moment, it was clear that Song Chengfeng believed he had that understanding, while He Zeqing was still trying to find it.