Chapter 10

*Moon-Chasing Diary*
“Classmate Xie is not wrong. He didn’t lose. And he’s certainly not beneath anyone.”
— *Moon-Chasing Diary*
_
“What did you say?!”
Tong Junjie glared, eyes bulging as if he wanted to swallow her alive.
Qin Sang put on an exaggerated “Eh?” of surprise. “Isn’t it true? I remember, Study Rep, no matter whether it was competitions or exams, you were always firmly in second place. Everyone even envied you—steady performance, never any surprises.”
Heaven knows she wasn’t adding a shred of personal malice. Class 1 High’s experimental track was a den of top students; competition pressure was huge. And with the future uncertain, under the crushing weight of the gaokao, everyone fought for every point—so busy they hardly had time to breathe. In every mock exam, there were always people who slipped for one reason or another. Only the study rep performed steadily, year after year holding the second spot on the honor board.
In a sense, being able to stay second without ever dropping was also a kind of skill.
But Tong Junjie didn’t see it that way. In his life, he hated nothing more than people bringing this up. That nickname was a humiliation, as if it constantly reminded him: he was inferior to Xie Yuncheng.
Tong Junjie’s teeth itched with anger. He let out a sinister cold laugh. “Celebrity Qin, I advise you to mind your own business. Think before you act. Before you stick your neck out for someone, weigh how much you’re worth. Don’t enjoy a moment of verbal satisfaction only to drag yourself into losing your endorsement.”
Tong Junjie was petty as a sesame seed—vindictive and vengeful. That night at the class reunion she’d humiliated him in public and left him no way to save face. He still remembered it. Otherwise he wouldn’t have brought Tan Xiaoxiao today to brazenly snatch the endorsement.
Tan Xiaoxiao was Chairman Song’s niece. She didn’t have much ability, but her ambition was higher than the sky. She plunged into entertainment and spent her days dreaming about becoming a big star. If Chairman Song hadn’t told Tong Junjie to take care of her, he wouldn’t have had the patience to deal with such an empty-headed straw bag.
But it suited him just fine. He could use Tan Xiaoxiao as a gun barrel to smear Qin Sang and retaliate. He’d done that kind of thing plenty of times. He only had to stir a couple of words, and Tan Xiaoxiao would make a fuss about competing for the endorsement.
Chairman Song was always indulgent with his niece. Taking advantage of recent cooperation between Huitai and CITIC, he had Tong Junjie step in and bring Tan Xiaoxiao over to intercept the deal.
If Huitai hadn’t changed hands, it was still uncertain whether this could succeed. Tong Junjie wasn’t fully confident. But Cai Shengbin was a lump of pus—Tong Junjie knew him well: always weighing pros and cons, extremely profit-driven. If Cai Shengbin hadn’t been greedy and rash, indecisive and incompetent, things wouldn’t have dragged to this point. It was only because Madam Cai was gravely ill and truly had no choice that she handed decision-making power over.
Tong Junjie’s sarcasm was thick with threat. Xie Yuncheng frowned; his eyes cooled.
But before he could speak, Qin Sang lazily took over the conversation, unconcerned. “If that’s the case, then there’s nothing we can do. Cooperation is about mutual benefit. If it’s ‘happy cooperation,’ but the fit isn’t smooth—why force it?”
Her expression was so calm, as if they were simply discussing today’s weather. She didn’t care about Tong Junjie’s threat at all, as if losing an endorsement to her was a trivial matter.
Tong Junjie couldn’t hold it. The superiority of having everything in hand got crushed. His expression turned strange—almost comical.
He emphasized, “Think carefully. Is it worth losing the big for the small? If you’re willing to apologize, then for classmates’ sake, we can let this go. I won’t stoop to argue with a woman. Women—long hair, short insight. But I thought after all these years in the industry, you’d have learned some sense. Don’t be the type who’s given face and refuses it.”
Tong Junjie had many flaws. After years of thriving in the workplace, he’d been spoiled into this stench: arrogant, selfish, narrow-minded. Most importantly—he looked down on women.
This kind of veiled sexism—if it were the old days, she would’ve exploded. A young rookie with nothing to fear would likely fight him to the death, forcing him to bow his head and swallow every word of crap he’d said.
But now, time had sanded down her edges. The hotheadedness of youth had been worn into a quiet lake. However you stirred storms, she would settle.
She believed her temper had been restrained these years. Even her words were less sharp. She thought for a moment, then nodded in agreement. “Face is something people earn. If someone gives it to you, that’s charity.”
“I don’t have many strengths. My bones are just a bit hard. What I want, what I have—I earned it properly, fighting for it myself.”
“But—”
Qin Sang sized him up theatrically from head to toe and said with some regret, “You probably can’t understand the pleasure of earning dignity with your own hands. After all, compared to being someone with a straight spine, you seem better at being a dog that wags its tail and begs.”
Face was something you earned, not something others handed out. She prided herself on decent upbringing, so she was willing to give him a bit of face.
But what could she do? Tong Junjie was the type who refused face when given it. No matter how good her upbringing, she couldn’t help stabbing back.
Her words were harsh. Xie Yuncheng raised an eyebrow and glanced at her—not because he felt she was overly aggressive, but because he was surprised: his high school classmate was this eloquent. A few lines and she had the other party choking, unable to respond.
Tong Junjie’s face twisted. In a rage, he even tried to swing his hand—only for his raised arm to be stopped in midair. Xie Yuncheng didn’t use much force; he caught Tong Junjie’s wrist and easily unloaded his strength. His face was calm; only his tone was colder than usual.
“Done being crazy?”
Tong Junjie grimaced in pain. The grip on his wrist wasn’t heavy, but he couldn’t break free. He knew Xie Yuncheng: usually he looked like clear breeze and bright moon, putting on a righteous act. But deep down he had a streak of ruthlessness—the angrier he got, the calmer he looked.
Tong Junjie fell into the disadvantage, afraid. Seeing this, Xie Yuncheng let go.
Tong Junjie rubbed his wrist. Then he reacted—these days the Xie family was nothing like before. Xie Yuncheng was just an empty shell. What was there to fear?
Tong Junjie clenched his teeth. “Xie Yuncheng, the Xie family has fallen. You’re just a stray dog now. In front of me, what are you acting tough for?”
“Pff.” Qin Sang couldn’t hold back a laugh.
When the two looked over, she covered her mouth, expression innocent. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt your performance. It’s just… what you said is really kind of funny. I couldn’t help it.”
Qin Sang’s eyes curved. Her voice was light. “Whether the Xie family fell or not—what does that have to do with him? He is him. The Xie family is the Xie family. Classmate Xie has never been a parasite living off his family. He had the courage to put down wealth and status that were within easy reach and choose his own road. What about you?”
“Could you do it? If it were you, would you be willing to give up everything you have now and chase your ideal?”
He couldn’t. And Qin Sang couldn’t either.
In this world of surging material desire, ordinary people were busy surviving—busy striving for tomorrow that might not come. The more you had, the heavier the fear of loss, the harder it was to let go.
Yet someone like him—born in Rome, owning wealth and status ordinary people could never obtain in a lifetime—was willing to put it all down, keep his original intention, stay on the front line, doing work others couldn’t understand.
“So you think that makes him beneath you—and you’ve finally won one round against him?”
Qin Sang’s smile turned a little mocking. “But I think you’re losing worse than ever. You have no self-respect, you count every penny, your character is rotten. You’re not even as upright as you used to be. At least back then, if you lost, you admitted it and tried to improve. Not like now—frog in a well. Guarding that sliver of profit and thinking you’re more capable than anyone.”
“Wealth and status were never the only standard for success. Researchers who stay at their posts, keep their original intention, and devote themselves quietly—no matter how you look at it, they’re better than a petty villain like you, reeking of money and arrogance. At the very least… they’re morally noble. They have a spirit of dedication. You? You can’t even speak like a human being. You can’t even learn basic respect. Strong? What are you strong at? Lose—where did he even lose?”
Xie Yuncheng’s gaze paused. He looked at her, surprised.
After Xie Zhenting’s accident, outsiders either pitied or gloated, but without exception they carried discrimination and mockery. Even Zhou Wanqing—unable to bear the plunge from the clouds—would bring up old matters, complaining that he hadn’t listened back then and had insisted on choosing a harder, more obscure path.
After Xie Zhenting entered the hospital, Zhou Wanqing’s resentment accumulated to the extreme. “You’re always like this. You never listen to me. If you’d listened and obeyed arrangements back then, how would we have fallen to this point? You can’t help your father, and you only make outsiders laugh at us.”
“Busy, busy, busy—every day you’re busier than anyone. But what results have you produced?”
“If you’d listened to me, how would the Xie family have ended up like this? How would we have to lower our heads and beg people everywhere?”
Zhou Wanqing couldn’t let go of her “dignity,” nor the glory the Xie family once gave her. With nowhere to vent, she dumped all her dissatisfaction and bitterness onto him.
No one had ever respected his decisions. No one had ever felt the road he chose wasn’t wrong.
People only thought that since he had more, he should live more easily, more “successfully.”
And now, she spoke decisively, with perfect justification.
“Success has no definition. You chase wealth and status; you chase summit-level power—that’s your life’s pursuit. But some people cast aside private desire and pursue ideals. They guard a patch of pure land and use their talent to strive for technological progress and humanity’s future.”
“So how can you decide from that that he’s inferior to you? Should even life goals be ranked into tiers?”
Qin Sang lived at the center of the fame-and-profit whirlpool, yet she’d never been stained to the point of losing her original heart. Even now, she couldn’t understand his thinking: how did someone devoted to scientific research become “worse” than him?
Qin Sang spoke firmly. “Classmate Xie is not wrong. He didn’t lose. And he’s certainly not beneath anyone. He’s clearly braver than all of us. What right do you have to mock him?”