NOVEL SIMPLE Chapter 113: A Swift and Decisive Rejection!
“Xanthia, take my advice: stay away from Dematero. He’s not your type,” Elena warned her friend.
However, what Xanthia didn’t say was that Dematero had, in fact, been the target of her affection. The pair had been childhood friends, after all. But she wouldn’t admit that openly. Instead, she kept it to herself, letting her friends assume what they wished.
But in her mind, it was nothing more than a laughable fantasy.
Target of her affection? Childhood friends? Secret love?
'What a joke!' Xanthia inwardly chuckled, feeling her 'happy' points rise.
Such things don't exist! And they never will!
While Xanthia imagined these ridiculous scenarios, her two friends watched her with concern. The expression on her face seemed to convey pain.
But in reality, she was struggling to suppress her laughter.
'Now the criminal named 'love' has walked right in front of me. Heartbreaks create far more 'pain' points, don't they?' Xanthia grinned at the thought, and seeing this, her friends sighed in relief.
“Xanthia, if those things were from Dematero, don’t show him an ounce of mercy. That boy’s so miserly and tasteless, the best thing to do is to reject him outright, kill any delusions he might have!” Elena urged, her tone filled with concern.
Xanthia, however, was quite certain that Dematero wasn’t behind any of it. They might think of him as just a boy, but in truth, he’d never again do something so childish.
She then opened the love letter, and sure enough, the handwriting wasn’t Dematero’s. As for the content—it was painfully cliche.
“Dear Xanthia,
Upon reading this letter, you should know that I fell in love with you at first sight!
… (N words omitted, detailing how they fell for her at the school event)
I want you to know: I love you!
The moonlight adorns your window, just as you adorn my dreams. Quietly, you’ve become a beautiful landscape in my heart, an indispensable companion on my life’s journey.
… (More cringeworthy declarations of love follow)
If you’re impressed by my sincerity, please add this Synomilia number: 999-001-403-761-106.
Even if you plan to reject me, could you at least let me know?”
Xanthia shared the letter with Luciel and Elena, puzzled. “It seems like just an ordinary love letter, but what’s with the gold medal from the sports day in the envelope? The writer didn’t mention it at all.”
After scrutinizing the letter, Elena realized her earlier guess was wrong. This letter was far too amateurish to have come from Dematero. If anyone insisted it was his work, it would be an insult to him.
Dematero might be a cheapskate and a bit dull, but his literary skills were top-notch. Among all the “trophies” Elena had collected over the years, his love letters stood out as the most thoughtful and unique. Unfortunately, he had demanded them back—a fact that still irked Elena who lose such collection. How could he possibly lower himself to write something this pedestrian? It was infuriating!
Luciel skimmed the letter quickly before cautioning Xanthia, “It doesn’t matter who wrote this, just don’t add that Synomilia number. You mustn’t give boys any false hope. They’ll only end up being insufferable if you do.”
Elena, however, had a different view. “I think you should add him! Any boy who writes such a silly love letter would be so easy to manip-, ahem maneuver. Don’t worry, Little Xanthia, with me backing you, we’ll have any boy eating out of your hand!”
Luciel bristled. “What on earth are you trying to pull? And what’s with that nickname? How dare you call her that?”
Elena simply laughed. Whether she did it on purpose or let it slip accidentally, she didn’t know. But the nickname for Xanthia had just tumbled out.
Enough. No more pretense. I can’t hold back any longer. Why should you, Luciel, have Xanthia all to yourself?
Xanthia was utterly confused. What on earth was going on with these two girls? So much for the clear-cut divide between righteous angel and rationalist demoness. But this wasn’t the time to argue over nicknames—what needed sorting out was the mysterious gold medal from the sports day…
Elena wasn’t so deluded as to think she could replace Luciel in Xanthia’s heart. No, her recent irritation stemmed purely from the self-righteous lecture Luciel had just delivered. Elena had simply taken the opportunity to give her a taste of her own medicine—albeit in a seemingly accidental manner.
Luciel, being seated directly in front of Xanthia, often turned to engage her in conversation. Occasionally, these discussions piqued Elena’s interest, prompting her to join in. As time went by, the connection between the two girls deepened, albeit through their shared acquaintance with Xanthia.
But familiarity didn’t necessarily breed friendship. They soon came to understand each other’s true natures, and rather than fostering mutual respect, this insight only intensified their disdain.
Its the same question which color is better between white and black.
In reality, this kind of bickering, marked by frequent quarrels, was a vast improvement over the previous cold war—a silent, passive-aggressive competition where neither party acknowledged the other. Open conflicts, after all, are easier to resolve than unspoken tensions.
Under the careful mediation of Xanthia, the “Beacon of Diplomacy,” the two rivals reluctantly set aside their differences for the moment, focusing instead on dissecting the contents of a rather ordinary love letter, which, despite its appearance, seemed to conceal deeper meaning.
One thing was certain: the “Hello Kitty” plushie was undoubtedly intended to accompany the letter. The boy who wrote it clearly believed that a soft and cute girl like Xanthia would be smitten by the equally adorable pink kitten.
However, this assumption couldn’t have been more wrong. Xanthia had no interest in such trinkets. If someone were to gift her a figurine of a two-dimensional anime girl—especially a less conventional, slightly 'lewd' one—that might have been more to her taste.
But how could any boy predict such an unexpected preference? Choosing a gift that would please Xanthia was a thousand times harder than picking one for any other girl.
“I think,” Luciel mused, “the boy who wrote this letter must be the school sports day’s gold medalist. He likely included the medal in the envelope to prove that he’s worthy of Xanthia. After all, Xanthia won the gold in the 3,000-metre race, so he probably thinks giving away such a hard-earned medal is the epitome of romance.”
“That’s quite possible,” Elena agreed, nodding thoughtfully. “Boys can be like that—obsessed with whether they’re ‘good enough’ for someone. It’s such a foolish mindset, really. These are the types who’ve probably never successfully wooed a girl in their lives.”
Elena’s agreement with Luciel’s theory was laced with a scornful jab at a certain type of boy.
The sort who worries about whether he’s ‘worthy’ even before he’s started courting someone—or who, after only just beginning, is already fretting about whether he can take responsibility for her, or whether they’ll get married someday. These boys? They’re doomed to fail.
Sometimes, a girl just wants to have a bit of fun, but the boy immediately jumps to thoughts of responsibility and marriage. Surely, they don’t truly believe that “dating without the intent to marry is mere foolery,” do they?
This, of course, is why ‘bad boys’ never seem to be short of admirers, while the ‘good men’ who genuinely care for and wish to cherish a girl often find themselves nursing heartbreak.
The truth is, good men often don’t even find good girls appealing, because these girls aren’t flirtatious or alluring enough. Sometimes they’re too conservative or passive, which just comes off as boring.
Dating should be about the joy of it. If you fancy a girl, don’t worry about whether you’re good enough for her. Just follow your heart. There’s no need for a grand confession—just ask her out a few times. You never know, things might just work out.
And if she won’t even go out with you? Well, it’s better to move on sooner rather than later.
But whatever you do, steer clear of girls like Elena—those who fundamentally don’t believe in love with a rationalist mindset. She’ll only exploit your affection for her own gain.
A ‘rationalist demoness’ under guise of seductress isn’t something any man can easily handle, unless he’s one of those charmed individuals destined for greatness.
Xanthia listened quietly to the analyses of her two ‘seasoned’ advisors, both of whom had a wealth of experience in dealing with love letters. Their reasoning made sense, yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that things weren’t as straightforward as they seemed.
“Anyway, it doesn’t matter,” Xanthia finally said, breaking her silence. “I’m not interested in dating anyone right now. I’ll just return the letter and the gift. The sports day medal, while just a token, does hold some sentimental value. I’ve kept mine safe, so I’m sure he wouldn’t refuse if I returned his.”
Luciel couldn’t help but smile in approval at Xanthia’s words. This quick and decisive rejection was exactly what she liked to see.
If it were up to her, she would’ve done the same.
Feeling victorious, she shot Elena a challenging glance, satisfied that Xanthia’s pure and kind-hearted nature hadn’t been swayed by Elena’s questionable advices.
To her surprise, Elena didn’t press Xanthia to accept the gift. After all, who would want such a childish, cheap trinket? It would be a loss to keep it!
“Little Xanthia, I support your decision,” Elena chimed in. “Why don’t I take care of returning these for you? I can add him on Synomilia, find out who he is, and then return everything. That way, you won’t have to deal with him and risk being pestered.”
Elena’s proposal was thorough and considerate. She knew Xanthia was inexperienced and too innocent for her own good, so she offered to handle things herself like a big sister would, all the while building up her own standing with Xanthia.
“Sounds good! I can always rely on you, Sister Elena.”
Xanthia knew Elena was a pro at turning down boys. It was practically her speciality.
Seeing this, Luciel realised she’d been outplayed yet again. A flicker of frustration crossed her face—Elena was simply too skilled at these games, with morals as flexible as they were firm. In front of men, Elena carried herself with the poise of a goddess, but among women, she was a cunning and selfish enchantress.
“Such hypocrisy!” Luciel silently cursed Elena.
And so, Xanthia settled back to watch the show, while Luciel discreetly observed Elena’s moves. Although she saw herself as the righteous heroine, she knew there was value in understanding the tactics of a ‘rationalist demoness.’
It was a shame that Lhoraine, the school’s gossip queen, wasn’t there. She had gone to the restroom after chatting with Xanthia about the latest table tennis gossip.
Had she been present, she would’ve been all over this—Xanthia receiving a love letter was far juicier gossip than anything related to table tennis!
Elena, not one to leave her phone in the classroom, borrowed Xanthia’s instead. She logged into one of her numerous Synomilia accounts—a meticulously curated collection of identities she maintained for just such occasions.
With ease, she added the boy who had sent the love letter, quickly uncovering his identity with a few casual messages.
The boy’s name was Lucio El Monqueio, a student from the neighbouring Year 1, Class 4. His habit of frequently using the ‘grinning teeth’ emoji gave him an annoyingly smug, almost punchable, vibe.
Elena didn’t reveal her true identity, but her words led Lucio to believe that it was Xanthia who had immediately added him as a friend after receiving his heartfelt letter, providing him with the positive feedback he craved.
He was thrilled!
He couldn’t believe his luck—that the girl he’d fallen for at first sight didn’t seem to reject him at all, and what’s more, they hit it off!
Brimming with excitement, he couldn’t help but bombard her with more of those grinning emojis enough to annoy any internet user… Lucio was over the moon. His spring had arrived sooner than he’d ever dared hope!
The mere thought of Xanthia’s innocent, angelic face, her snow-white skin, and that pure, unsullied, ‘as innocent as a lamb’ demeanour had Lucio on cloud nine. Her delicate, ‘damsel in distress’ vibe was irresistible to him.
He vowed that if he could win her over, he would become the world’s most perfect boyfriend, one Xanthia could never bear to leave. He would protect her, always.
At that moment, both Xanthia and Luciel were left their mouths opened, utterly bewildered— Elena was too adept at this. How skilled at chatting with boys did she have to be to ensnare someone so quickly?
Such terrifying creature, Luciel thought.
Elena scratched her head and remarked, "You might not believe this, but it's not that I'm particularly good at chatting. It’s just that this lad, Lucio, is a complete pushover. His attitude is so pathetically subservient that it doesn’t even require any effort to lead him on—he’s a natural-born lapdog."
Such a boy quickly lost Elena's interest. She found pleasure in the challenge of manipulating boys, but Lucio’s innate servility was simply too ingrained to be respected.
For her, it was simple as one plus one.
Xanthia had watched the entire conversation unfold. The boy’s constant use of the grinning emoji left an indelible impression on her. Did he really think he was doing that well?
"Right, I've asked him to meet us at the back door of the classroom. Little Xanthia, I'll return these things for you, and you can have a look at what this peculiar boy actually looks like," Elena said, picking up the letter, the plush toy, and, of course, the sports day gold medal as she headed out of the classroom.
Several classmates noticed this scene. Even Dematero glanced up, giving Elena a brief look of curiosity before returning to his own affairs. He had no interest in her anymore, so her actions were of little concern.
In his eyes, Elena was simply a psychopath gold digger and nothing else.
Lucio, standing by the back door of Class 3, was not particularly tall and had rather average looks—neither handsome nor unattractive. His familia appeared well-off, judging by the pair of Nike trainers worth several hundred pounds, the Casio digital watch on his wrist, and the Adidas T-shirt under his school uniform, which cost about thirty pounds.
Elena, with her keen eye, could estimate the value of these items instantly—a skill honed from countless encounters. She wasn’t like Luciel, who might assume she was eager to throw herself at boys from wealthy families.
On the contrary, Elena kept her distance from the scions of the wealthy and powerful. She knew better than to aim too high, aware that a lack of discernment could lead to her being ensnared and giving up her freedom rather than the other way around.
Take Dionysius, for instance. Elena had to admit that he was impressive in every way—looks, charisma, academic prowess, and generosity far beyond that of his peers, which gold diggers and opportunists would love to covet.
But none of this intrigued her. In fact, she felt a duty to protect Xanthia from him, suspecting that his intentions on the day of the 3000-meter run were far from innocent.
She couldn’t have known they were siblings, so she envisioned a tale of a young heiress and a poor Cinderella in a bitter love story. If Dionysius harboured any romantic interest in Xanthia, then Elena would surely intervene, just as she often spoke ill of Dematero.
After all, no man could be trusted. Only a woman could truly safeguard another woman. Elena had all the makings of a leader among women. Having experienced a dramatic change in her own family’s fortunes, she knew full well her current situation.
Most high-paying jobs are taken by men; most political positions are held by men; even roles traditionally suited for women, such as those in education and healthcare, are increasingly filled by men. This leaves only the entertainment and service sectors as viable options for most women, often with minimal wages or just a little more.
The systems are disproportionately disadvantageous to women. Even with equal performance, women still receive less pay compared to their male counterparts, and this disparity is becoming the norm.
Even this Lucio boy could end up far wealthier than her in the near future—possibly by millions. He could get any girl he liked.
With such thoughts, Elena found no meaning in the world’s morals or laws. She felt no constraints, convinced that the current society was inherently flawed, with these flaws always being exploited by those at the top. So why not use any means necessary to get what she wanted?
At this moment, Elena’s goddess-like aura was in full bloom. She approached Lucio, who was eagerly looking around, with a warm, graceful smile. “Lucio, is it?”
Lucio had been eagerly awaiting Xanthia’s appearance but was instead met by Elena. His instincts told him something was amiss. Being from Class 4, a class infamous for its lack of attractive girls, the boys in his dorm rarely talked about their own classmates.
Instead, they focused on the girls from Class 3. Luciel was undoubtedly the most admired, her looks and figure making her the subject of much admiration, despite some debate over her skin tone. After Luciel, Elena was also highly regarded. Her serene, cold demeanor had its own set of admirers, and Xanthia had recently become the hottest topic.
This newfound fame had spurred Lucio into action, leading him to buy a gift and write a letter. He had expected to wait a while for a response, or perhaps never receive one, but the quick reply had filled him with joy.
“I’m Lucio… You’re Elena, aren’t you? Is there something you need?” Lucio’s confidence on Synomilia, where he freely used the grinning emoji, vanished in the presence of a real, pretty girl.
Elena held out the items he had sent to Xanthia, still smiling politely. “Xanthia asked me to return these to you. She appreciates your sentiments but is focused on her studies at the moment, so she would rather not be disturbed.”
Realizing things weren’t going his way, Lucio’s smile faltered. “Once given, I won’t take things back… But we were getting along so well on Synomilia—why would she…”
“That was me,” Elena interjected smoothly. “Xanthia is a dedicated student from a humble background. She doesn’t bring her phone to class, so it’s impossible she added you on Synomilia Social. I arranged this meeting to return these items, and you simply assumed I was her.”
Elena’s explanation was flawless, her tone full of gentle reproach, flipping the situation on its head. Lucio, now faced with a stunningly beautiful girl, was too dazed to notice the deception. His mood had swung from despair to joy so quickly that he couldn’t process the sudden shift.
Meanwhile, back in the classroom, Xanthia had spotted Lucio and, upon seeing his ordinary appearance, felt nothing more than a fleeting curiosity. It turned out that her rising popularity at school had indeed attracted attention from boys in other classes.
Class 3 was largely indifferent to Elena’s conversation with a boy from another class, accustomed as they were to seeing her turn down suitors from all around.
Just as Lucio was trying to grasp what had happened, Elena asked curiously, “Lucio, which event did you win a gold medal in during the school sports day?”
Lucio, still disoriented, replied automatically, “Gold medal? I didn’t win any gold medal—I didn’t even compete in the sports day.”
“Then whose gold medal is this? It was in the envelope with your letter,” Elena asked, her confusion mirrored by Lucio.
At that moment, a girl who happened to be passing by overheard their conversation and, recognising the medal, shouted, “A gold medal? That’s mine! It must be mine!”
Oliver, who had been in a foul mood ever since her defeat in the class activity, suddenly brightened as she rushed over, snatching the medal from Lucio.
“This is definitely mine! I won it in the shot put competition!” she declared, eyes alight with relief.
Oliver La Kantiniero, also from Class 4, grabbed Lucio by the collar, fuming, “How dare you steal my medal to give to someone else?”
