66: Chapter 66 How could he be such a person?

"Click."

The office door was gently closed, shutting out all sounds from the corridor.

Huang Mao's footsteps gradually faded until they completely disappeared.

Almost at the same instant, the lazy and gentle smile on Jiang Mengshu's face was wiped clean by an invisible hand, vanishing completely.

It was replaced by an indescribably complex expression.

There was profundity, scrutiny, and a hint of... an almost fanatical, dark gleam that was hard to decipher.

She slowly rose from her chair, her movements graceful yet tinged with urgency.

She quickly walked to the door and, with a crisp "click," locked it decisively.

Only after doing all this did she seem to breathe a sigh of relief, turning to walk back to her desk.

She didn't immediately deal with the matter Huang Mao had asked her to, but instead moved her mouse to a corner of the screen.

Among a neatly arranged stack of folders, she skillfully opened an encrypted file hidden beneath layers of directories.

A string of infuriatingly complex passwords was rapidly typed in, followed by Enter.

A solitary file lay quietly there.

The filename was simple, just a string of dates.

Jiang Mengshu took a deep breath and double-clicked to open it.

An incredibly clear photo instantly filled the entire computer screen.

The photo's content was precisely the scene from the afternoon before yesterday, with Huang Mao and Leng Qingxuan sitting side-by-side in that empty classroom, chatting happily.

Sunlight streamed in diagonally from the window, outlining their profiles with a soft golden edge.

It looked as if time itself was peaceful and beautiful.

Jiang Mengshu's fingertips gently traced Huang Mao's face on the screen.

The cold glass could not convey any warmth.

"President, oh, President..."

She murmured softly, a self-mocking and playful curve appearing at the corner of her lips.

"That 'AI forgery method' I just told you about, it wasn't entirely false, you know."

"It's just that it wasn't fabricated out of thin air."

"Instead, it used this... genuine surveillance screenshot as a reference, letting the AI help change it to a more tricky angle, making it look more like a candid shot."

Her voice was very soft, yet in this office where she was alone, it sounded exceptionally clear.

"You probably would never have guessed."

"Actually, there was no such thing as a 'candid photographer' at all."

"Or rather..."

She paused, her gaze fixed eerily on the two people in the photo.

"That candid photographer, it was me."

...

Her thoughts, like pebbles tossed into a lake, rippled outwards, returning to that unremarkable afternoon.

She had no classes that day, and the Student Union had no urgent matters.

Out of boredom, she, as usual, pulled up surveillance footage from various parts of the campus for random checks.

This was actually one of the Student Union's routine tasks, primarily to prevent students from secretly doing anything inappropriate in empty classrooms.

The screens switched between empty classrooms, monotonous and dull.

Until, she casually clicked on a surveillance feed from the fifth floor of the Old Campus Comprehensive Building.

A figure so familiar it was etched into her bones unexpectedly entered her sight.

It was Huang Mao.

It was him, absolutely no mistake.

Even if it was just a profile, a back view, she could recognize him in a crowd of thousands.

But then, her gaze fell upon the person beside him.

Smooth, long black hair, a cool and exquisitely beautiful profile.

It was her, the Iceberg Campus Belle renowned throughout the school, Leng Qingxuan.

At that moment, Jiang Mengshu felt her breath hitch for an instant.

Disbelief, bitterness, and a hint of anger...

These emotions indeed surged up like a tide in the first instant.

But strangely, this tide came quickly and receded quickly.

It wasn't as turbulent and unforgettable as she had imagined.

It could even be said to be somewhat insignificant.

This made her fall into self-doubt for a time.

Could it be that her feelings for Huang Mao weren't as deep as she thought?

Were those so-called affections just an illusion caused by excessive hormone secretion during high school?

But just as this thought emerged.

Just as she fell into confusion.

An unprecedented, unfamiliar, yet extremely intense tremor suddenly surged from the deepest part of her body.

It was like an electric current instantly piercing her spine.

That wasn't pain.

Absolutely not.

If she had to use one word to describe that feeling...

It was—excitement.

A violent palpitation, as if her heart was tightly squeezed, her blood rushed faster, and even her fingertips were slightly numb.

This feeling came so fiercely, so abruptly, that it left her completely stunned.

She remembered high school.

The class monitor who always complained about trouble but would subtly help her deal with many minor issues.

The boy who would quietly cover her with his jacket when she was tired and slumped over her desk.

The boy who, because of her half-hearted complaints, would willingly sacrifice his slacking-off time to massage her shoulders.

The guy who, at graduation, seeing her in a slightly neutral outfit, casually praised, "Actually, I feel like if you cut your hair short and adopted this style, it would suit you very well."

She had always liked him.

She knew this better than anyone; she was self-aware.

She enjoyed Huang Mao's subtle care and was used to silently supporting him from behind.

But she had never confessed.

Because she always felt... something was missing.

She once thought what was missing was a suitable opportunity, a better time.

It was that kind of slow-burning, eventually natural understanding.

Until the moment she saw the surveillance footage.

She seemed to... understand.

Although it was still vague, even causing her fear and disbelief.

But reality was just that.

Seeing the person she liked sitting intimately with another girl, equally excellent, and perhaps even superior to her in many aspects.

That sense of crisis, as if her cherished treasure was about to be 'taken away'.

That 'transgressive feeling' of hiding in the dark, peeking at their every move.

Unexpectedly...

It unexpectedly made her feel an unprecedented, indescribable excitement!

"Ha... haha..."

At that time, Jiang Mengshu couldn't help but laugh out loud, her laughter tinged with an unbelievable absurdity.

"What is this..."

She subconsciously hugged her arms, her body trembling slightly.

"How could I, Jiang Mengshu... be such a person?"

How could she feel excited because of such a thing?

How could she see the person she liked with someone else and not be angry, but instead feel excited?

Isn't that just a complete pervert?

She had also questioned herself this way, trying to deny this absurd feeling.

But her body's reactions wouldn't lie.

Just now.

Right here in this office.

When she heard Huang Mao personally admit that Leng Qingxuan lived at his house.

When she pressed him, asking if anything 'transgressive' had happened between them, and keenly caught that fleeting, unnatural hesitation on his face...

That familiar, almost uncontrollable tremor once again swept through her entire body!

He lied.

He was hiding something.

Something definitely happened between them!

This realization caused a near-hypoxic dizziness in Jiang Mengshu's brain, yet it excited her beyond measure.

She pulled herself out of that intense recollection.

She raised her hands, crossed them in front of her chest, and gently caressed her shoulders.

As if the warmth of his palms still lingered there.

Those were the traces left by him having to bow to her for another woman, having to 'sell his charm' to please her.

During the massage just now, she had almost used all her strength to restrain herself from making strange sounds.

She closed her eyes, seemingly wanting to intertwine her fingers with the hands that had pressed on her shoulders, through that thin shirt.

She had orchestrated this play.

It was a huge gamble.

Gambling that when Huang Mao encountered such trouble, the first person he would think of would be her.

She won the gamble.

This was also a deep exploration of her own heart.

She wanted to use this opportunity to thoroughly understand what kind of feeling she truly had for him.

Now, she probably understood.

She liked him; that had never changed.

When he touched her, when he massaged her shoulders, she could clearly feel that joy and excitement, no different from high school.

However, now, on top of this pure affection, there was something else.

Something darker, more stimulating, and even more... captivating to her.

The thought that Huang Mao came to beg her for another girl.

The thought that he had to stand here, serving her and fulfilling her demands, just to quell a storm caused by someone else...

This feeling...

This feeling was simply too intense!

It was unprecedentedly strong!

Jiang Mengshu could no longer maintain a standing posture.

As if all her strength had been drained, she collapsed back into the expensive ergonomic chair.

She curled her legs onto the chair, her hands still caressing her shoulders, her entire body huddled into a small ball.

As if only this way could she contain the surging emotions that were about to overflow.

Her body trembled uncontrollably.

Her cherry-colored lips slightly parted, unconsciously and repeatedly murmuring those appellations that had long been etched into her soul.

"Huang Mao..."

"Class Monitor..."

"President..."

"President...!"

Her voice carried a hint of obsession, a hint of grievance, and a hint of... almost pathological satisfaction.

It echoed again and again in the empty office.

After an unknown amount of time.

The faint murmuring finally ceased.

Jiang Mengshu slowly unfolded her body and leaned back against the chair.

She raised a hand to tidy her slightly disheveled short hair, her face once again regaining its calm and composure.

Only her eyes held an unprecedented gleam.

She finally understood what she had lacked in high school.

What she lacked wasn't time, nor opportunity.

But a little 'stimulation'.

A little stimulation from 'competition' and 'taboo' that could break the stagnant, lifeless water.

The more Huang Mao was coveted by others, the more he was 'possessed' by others.

The stronger her sense of accomplishment and satisfaction would be when she took him back, or when she manipulated everything in the shadows.

This was twisted.

This was pathological.

But... this was also truly...

She laughed out loud, a wild yet bright laugh.

"Next, I will handle everything as promised, President."

She whispered to the air, as if making an oath.

Then, she turned back to face the computer screen, her eyes instantly becoming sharp.

Tapping lightly on the keyboard, she opened the classic blue office software, Messaging App.

In the chat list, she found the real 'poster'.

This was also an unexpected 'surprise' she gained while watching the surveillance.

A unlucky male student who was secretly trying to do bad things and steal in an empty classroom, and was caught red-handed by her.

The perfect scapegoat for this incident.

And a puppet who was kept in the dark from beginning to end, manipulated unilaterally by her.

Jiang Mengshu's face showed no extra emotion, her fingers rapidly typing in the dialogue box.

[Delete the post I asked you to make earlier.]

[Then, use your account to post the following message and this image.]

[Remember, the tone must be sincere, showing deep regret and apology.]

[Do it well, and the previous matter will be written off.]

A short but undeniable series of messages, along with the screenshot of the so-called 'AI forgery process' she had already prepared, were sent out together.

After doing all this, she didn't even wait for the person's reply before directly closing the dialogue box.

Subsequently, her gaze once again fell on that surveillance screenshot.

Her eyes became incredibly gentle, yet held a hint of profound meaning that was hard to understand.