One would think people with money would have better things to do than gossip.
But at Lin Yichen's university, scandal was sport; and rumors were currency.
It started with the whispers. Soft. Sticky. Cowardly.
They didn't say her name out loud, not right away. That would've been too bold, too honest.
Instead, they let it hang in the air like cheap perfume.
"She's not even legacy…"
"No one knew who she was last semester."
"Didn't he hold her back after class last week?"
"I heard it was private study hours…you know what that means."
Yichen didn't respond. She never did.
But she heard them.
And worse…she felt them.
The pause in a conversation when she entered the cafeteria.
The way someone would cough, suddenly and theatrically, just after saying the word "Professor."
The desks that mysteriously filled up, except for the one beside her.
She didn't belong here, not really. Not in the eyes of people who wore designer loafers with their fashion designer clothes and thought being "modest" meant neutral nail polish.
She adjusted the strap of her overused canvas bag and kept walking, spine straight.
Let them talk.
What they didn't know…what they'd never understand; was that she had survived worse.
Real storms.
The kind that blew roofs off homes.
The kind that made you eat white rice three times a day because you couldn't afford oil, let alone vegetables.
---
The Library's Silence
"Chei Wei, I can't find her anywhere," Aaliyah's voice cracked slightly, low but urgent as she stepped out into the empty corridor. "There are rumors…She's not picking her calls…"
His voice came…measured, deep, but tight with controlled concern.
"Wait for me."
"What?"
"I'm coming. I'll be there in ten minutes."
She didn't argue. She never did when he spoke like that.
Chei Wei wasn't just her older brother. He was the kind of man who didn't rush for much. But when he did... the world noticed. And right now, the world was whispering about Lin Yichen.
---
A few minutes later, a sleek, charcoal-gray car pulled into the staff lot—an area no student would dare approach. But Chen Wei didn't care for rules. Or perceptions.
He was already halfway across the quad by the time Aaliyah caught up to him.
"She's not in the dorm," she told him. "And I checked her study spots. She's... not answering texts."
"She wouldn't," he said flatly. "She wouldn't want anyone to see her break..I heard about the rumors," she added, her voice sharp now. "They're getting worse. I think she's trying to stay invisible."
Chei Wei came down from the car and he was in tailored dark slacks and a muted ash-grey coat...corporate, sharp, but his brows were drawn tight.
"I already checked the study hall and courtyard," she murmured as he approached. "No sign."
He nodded. "Then she's somewhere quiet. Somewhere they won't think to look for someone like her."
"Like her?"
He didn't answer. Just turned, leading the way toward the library annex. The older one; slightly more forgotten, rarely used unless someone needed true silence.
It was there, in the farthest reading cubicle by the window, that they found her.
Lin Yichen.
Hunched slightly, shoulders stiff. Head bowed over an unopened journal. Her fingers clenched so tightly around the corner of the desk, her knuckles were pale.
She didn't hear them at first.
But something; maybe the silence behind her shifting; made her look up.
Her eyes were red.
And for half a second, they widened at the sight of him. Of both of them.
But she didn't cry. Not now.
She didn't even let the tears show. She blinked fast. Sat straighter. And calmly reached for her pen as if they'd caught her mid-study and nothing more.
"I was just... revising," she said, her voice soft, too careful.
Neither Aaliyah nor Chei Wei spoke.
Chen Wei finally stepped closer, slow and deliberate.
He didn't say a word.
Just looked at her; her swollen eyes, her brave lie, her scraped-up pride.
Then he offered something unexpected.
His coat.
Not his hand. Not a tissue.
Just the dark wool coat off his shoulders, wordlessly extended.
For shelter.
For dignity.
For her.
And after a second's hesitation…
She took it.
---
The air outside had changed.
By the time they stepped out of the library annex, the clouds had pulled in like curtains, heavy and low, the late afternoon sun replaced by a steel-gray sky. A quiet wind swept past the courtyard, rustling the tree branches and tugging lightly at Lin Yichen's sleeves as she clutched the coat tighter around herself.
Chei Wei didn't say much.
He walked a short distance ahead, his strides long but unrushed, as though measuring each step not for pace—but for purpose. Aaliyah walked beside Yichen now, not too close, but close enough that her presence could be felt. The unspoken support between them was subtle. Gentle.
Almost like the storm…they didn't push, didn't demand.
They just waited.
Yichen's fingers tightened around the thick fabric of the coat. She didn't know why, but it smelled faintly of cedarwood and something crisp, like new rain. She shouldn't be noticing that. She shouldn't be noticing anything right now.
Not the way Aaliyah occasionally looked over at her, lips pressed, concern carefully muted.
Not the subtle way Chei Wei slowed his steps, even though he didn't turn around once.
And certainly not the way her heart had begun to beat in a rhythm she didn't quite recognize.
---
Claims and Confessions
The storm hadn't passed—it had simply moved indoors.
Chen Wei adjusted the cufflinks on his wrist as he stepped into the high-rise building where Board Member Wu Jianhao kept his private office. The marble floors gleamed. So did his intentions.
He didn't bother sitting when shown in.
"Wu laoshi," Chen Wei said smoothly, nodding once. "I'll be brief."
The older man barely glanced up from his tea. "I heard about the student. Unfortunate situation, Mr. Chen."
Chen Wei slid a file onto the table. Slim. Dangerous.
"It's only unfortunate if the university mishandles it. You'll find in there a proposal. Not a threat."
Wu Jianhao rushed to open the file. "You think money can silence this, Mr. Chen?"
"I think truth can. But if the board is too distracted to protect it… then I'll use other means."
The pause that followed was deliberate.
Calculated.
Deadly.
"Mr Chen Wei…" the man said, finally looking up. "This girl... she must mean something to you."
Chen Wei didn't flinch. "She means the difference between honor and cowardice."
Then he turned and left. No signature. No handshake. Just the storm walking out before the sky caught up.
---
Chen Wei's office was quiet. Too quiet. The glass walls blocked sound but not tension, and the assistant outside dared not even cough.
Aaliyah stood near the window, arms crossed, her hijab drawn tighter around her neck as she watched the man behind the desk.
"What are you planning?"
"I'm not 'planning' anything," he said, eyes fixed on the document in front of him. "I'm protecting someone who shouldn't need protection in the first place."
"You mean Yichen."
A pause.
He looked up, fingers steepled.
"She's being dragged through whispers for something that didn't happen. If the board won't fix it, then I will."
"And how exactly will you do that, oppa?" Aaliyah's voice was cautious now.
"Options," he said simply. "Sponsor her under the Chen Foundation. Frame it as a legacy outreach or financial merit program. If they dig; let them. I've already prepared the paperwork."
"You mean you'll make it look like she's under your personal scholarship?"
"She is under my protection."
A beat.
Because there were some arguments that didn't need to be spoken. Not when the man before her had already decided.
---
Back at the dorm, Yichen stared at the brown envelope left outside her dorm room.
No name.
Just her university ID number scrawled neatly across the front.
She opened it with slow fingers, half-dreading, half-curious.
Inside, a rare economics journal. One she'd tried to request two months ago, but it had gone out of print.
She blinked.
Tucked inside the back cover, a folded note written in careful, slanted script:
"A storm is only dangerous to those without shelter.
Consider this a roof, Lin Yichen."
J.M.
Her breath caught.
J.M.?
She stared at the letters...unsure which stirred her more.
The generosity.
Or the fact that someone else was watching the same storm…