The wound started to scab over after four days, and by day ten, only a faint white scar remained visible. The sweatshirt worn that day was secretly thrown away, but the school uniform couldn’t be disposed of, so she had to lie to her mother Chen that she’d caught it on an iron rack in the equipment room during PE class. After being nagged a bit about being careful, she got a brand-new uniform. The incident passed, just like that vigorous fight ultimately became nothing more than a small memory in their high school life. One day when passing the construction site again, Jing Qichi suddenly asked, “What were you thinking that day, daring to fight them?”

“One-on-one” was a phrase Jing Qichi and Song Cong often used when fooling around. One-on-one applied to soccer, to racing to finish meals, and even to playfully wrestling when they had nothing better to do. After Huan’er joined them, she suggested using English – more international, making it sound classier when spoken. That day, she had bet on the rapport between the three of them, ninety percent certain, with the remaining ten percent worried they might not hear clearly in that environment.

Very fortunately, or perhaps as expected, her bet had paid off.

As for analyzing the situation and fighting methods, these were things she’d been trained in since childhood, like knowing one plus one equals two – information imprinted in her brain that naturally emerged when needed.

“I just thought what these two weaklings would do without me,” she replied to him this way.

About her own story, she didn’t want to share it with anyone. She just jokingly told them not to spread it around, to keep a low profile.

As New Year’s Day approached, the class began discussing performance items. Last year, the arts committee member led a group of girls in modern dance, but after the class split, the leader took her group to study liberal arts. Since then, Liao Xinyan has taken on the arts work. During the class meeting, someone suggested poetry recitation, but those in the know immediately shook their heads, saying “It clashes with Class 9.” Someone suggested just singing a song, but after a round of commotion, they couldn’t pick suitable candidates. Someone simply raised both hands advocating giving up, which made Liao Xinyan anxious, “Even if you have to run naked, you’re getting up there to do a lap.”

The whole class burst out laughing, and the boy who had spoken wore a bitter face, “Even if I run naked, there needs to be someone watching.”

Half the class meeting passed without result, when a mischievous boy suggested, “Why don’t we get a few people to be soccer cheerleaders doing exercises, have Jing Qichi do some tricks – wouldn’t that make a performance?”

“I won’t do it, don’t drag me out to take the fall for no reason,” Jing Qichi rejected lazily.

The adolescent boys, enticed by the words “soccer cheerleaders,” all looked back, “What’s wrong with sacrificing your good looks a bit? Don’t you have any sense of collective honor?”

Huan’er also turned back laughing, earning herself a frustrated head rub from the person in question, “What are you joining the commotion for?”

Liao Xinyan maintained order at the podium, “If there’s nothing else, shall we go with this?”

One part anxiety, three parts responsibility, plus six parts personal interest – in Liao Xinyan’s heart, this barely-formed performance was already perfect.

“Let’s do this,” said a boy from the back who often played soccer, looking at Jing Qichi, “If you’re afraid of embarrassment, bros will go up there with you.”

The performance was thus decided – three boys and five girls, with Song Cong, forced to participate under Jing Qichi’s childish declaration of “if you don’t join, I won’t either.” Compared to this, choosing the girls was much easier – there were only so many who could dance well and looked good. With the class monitor’s word, that evening’s practice began with much excitement.

When Qi Qi came to find them, Huan’er was helping everyone move desks to clear space at the back of the classroom. She pulled her friend who was standing watching at the door inside, “What’s this, forgotten about old friends so quickly?”

During dinner, she had messaged Qi Qi about the New Year’s Day practice – they still maintained the habit of going home together, and though their timing often didn’t match up, advance communication was always necessary. When Qi Qi heard about it, she said she wanted to come watch, which naturally delighted Huan’er.

“It’s not that, it’s just that I…” Qi Qi felt uncomfortable, as three of the faces among those remaining were completely unfamiliar to her.

“It’s fine,” Huan’er linked arms with her and warmly introduced her to others, “This is Qi Qi, she used to be in our class too.”

A girl who knew her from before asked, “Qi Qi, what’s your class doing for the performance?”

“Jazz dance,” Qi Qi smiled, moving closer to Huan’er, “What about those two?”

“They went with the monitor to borrow balls.”

Just as they were talking, Liao Xinyan returned with two boys. Jing Qichi strode up to Qi Qi, “I thought you’d left already.”

“No, just watching your performance,” Qi Qi replied absent-mindedly, her gaze falling entirely on Liao Xinyan, who was gesturing and talking with Song Cong.

They… seemed to have gotten closer.

“Hey Huan’er,” Liao Xinyan, sweating profusely, turned to call out, “Could you help take the English quiz papers on my desk to Teacher Zhao? She’s waiting for them.”

“Sure,” Huan’er responded immediately and took action. Liao Xinyan blew her a kiss, “Thanks!”

“No problem,” Huan’er said, passing by Qi Qi with a “wait for me” as she jogged out of the classroom.

Qi Qi wordlessly grabbed her bag and chased after her, stopping Huan’er in the corridor, “She just orders you around like that?”

“It’s not like that,” Huan’er shook her head with a smile. “The monitor hasn’t even eaten dinner today, she’s been busy arranging the performance, see how she’s discussing formations with Song Cong? She already has so much to do, probably under a lot of pressure.”

“Then why doesn’t she ask someone else?”

Guessing her friend was speaking up for her, Huan’er quickly explained, “Everyone else is in the performance, I’m the only one free. Besides, Xinyan and I are pretty close, she’s nice, but doesn’t mean anything by it.”

Chen Huan’er was now Liao Xinyan’s good friend.

That girl who made her feel uncomfortable just thinking about – Liao Xinyan.

At this moment, Qi Qi suddenly felt like an outsider – the science building she hadn’t visited in so long, the unfamiliar faces in Class 5 that no longer belonged to her, and even their supposedly unshakeable group of four was going to replace a member.

The person being replaced was herself.

Hurt, sad, and unwilling to accept it.

She bit her lip and asked, “I want to go back now, are you coming after you deliver these?”

For Qi Qi, this question represented a crucial opportunity –

Right now, Huan’er, please make your choice.

“I…” Huan’er read some kind of different emotion in her friend’s eyes, but she couldn’t identify what it represented or how intense it was. She just tilted her head, “If you’re in a hurry, go ahead. I’ll wait for them.”

The robbery incident had left a shadow, neither big nor small. The construction site remained as usual, and she didn’t dare risk it again. She hadn’t mentioned this to Qi Qi, because once brought up, it would necessarily involve many explanations about the reasons – that was Chen Huan’er’s private space, kept only for herself.

“I’m leaving first,” Qi Qi said and ran off without looking back. She heard Huan’er’s voice behind her, but tears seemed to block her ears and completely covered that sound – she didn’t hear a single word.

Her friend Chen Huan’er had already made her choice.

Qi Qi stopped waiting to go home with them. She constantly brainwashed herself until she was completely convinced from the inside out – why wait? It’s only a ten-minute bike ride anyway, everyone will separate eventually. Once, coming back late, she happened to see Class 5 practicing on the playground, the performers dancing quite well, with Liao Xinyan leaning on Huan’er’s shoulder as they both watched with great interest. As she passed by, Huan’er happened to look back, but she pretended to be on the phone and quickly left without a sideways glance. Just after leaving the school gate, she received a message from Huan’er, “We’re almost done, where are you?” Qi Qi replied, “I left first, have a tutoring class.”

From beginning to end, she couldn’t bring herself to tell the truth. For Qi Qi, lying was a form of self-protection.

With only a week left before the official performance, one of the participating girls suddenly had to transfer to the liberal arts class. Liao Xinyan exploded in anger about this, “Why didn’t you say you were transferring earlier? Do you think everyone’s just playing around?”

This year’s New Year’s Day performances were organized by class, with an excellent competition at the end.

These words were said in front of all participants, and the girl, unable to lose face in front of everyone, couldn’t argue back, “Do you know how hard it was to convince my parents? Now that they’ve finally agreed, are you going to take responsibility if I can’t leave? I don’t care if you call me selfish, I’d rather be scolded to death than waste away in class not understanding anything.”

The girl started crying as she finished, sobbing while pouring out her grievances, “I don’t understand anything, I can’t do anything if I don’t leave now I’m finished.”

Everyone came forward to console her – it’s okay, don’t worry about it, don’t mind. Compared to one person’s future, a performance was truly insignificant.

Song Cong was always the most rational one. He told Liao Xinyan, “There’s still time, if we really can’t find someone, we can change the formation.”

“Right,” Jing Qichi agreed, “Monitor, don’t stress too much, there are always more solutions than problems.”

The girl was crying fountains of tears, stuttering apologies, “I’m sorry… I know I’m letting everyone down… but I told you all first, I haven’t even told Teacher Xu yet…”

Liao Xinyan stood at the edge of the group, stared for a moment, then pulled Huan’er away, “Let’s go find your desk mate.”

“Du Man? We’re not that close,” Huan’er followed behind for a while, seeing Liao Xinyan’s rapid steps clearly showing she hadn’t calmed down, and hesitantly spoke up, “Hey, don’t blame her.”

For a long time, Chen Huan’er had been that type – not understanding, not comprehending, even stepping back to let others go first at the water fountain, feeling a step lower than everyone else. The scariest part wasn’t the grades that wouldn’t improve, but the self-denial that came from trying your hardest yet seeing no results. I’m stupider than others, I’m less talented than others, this is my fate and there’s no helping it – severe self-denial can destroy a person. At seventeen, the mind isn’t mature enough to accept the world’s myriad forms, nor can it support a temporary self that seems unsatisfactory only because its shining points haven’t been found yet.

Liao Xinyan stopped, and after a while slowly shook her head, “I understand.”

Class monitors seemed to all be like this – their grades might not be the best, but they were the most adult-like.

It was only then that Huan’er learned that Du Man had participated in aerobics competitions in middle school and won awards. With her solid foundation, she would be the best replacement.

Only three or five classmates were still having self-study, and the classroom was empty and quiet at night. Liao Xinyan called Du Man to the hallway, briefly explained the situation, and waited for a response while blinking her large eyes.

Du Man was silent for a moment, “Better not.”

“Come on, helping in an emergency is like fighting a fire,” Liao Xinyan said while signaling to Huan’er with her eyes. Huan’er received the signal and joined in pleading, “Think about it some more, there’s only a week left, it won’t take up too much time.”

“Yeah, practice is just during lunch and after evening self-study,” Liao Xinyan strongly persuaded, “You already have the foundation, you’ll learn quickly. Besides, the New Year’s Day show is such a good opportunity to perform – don’t you miss being on stage?”

Du Man looked at her as if making a decision, “I don’t like aerobics at all, and I hate performing. Sorry.”

She went back to the classroom after saying this, her silhouette as still as a statue.

Liao Xinyan leaned directly against the hallway wall, “It’s over, it’s over, what do we do now?”

Huan’er remembered the two girls from other classes who often came to find Du Man, one of whom was the exercise leader during class breaks. The three of them often chatted and laughed in the hallway, clearly long-time acquaintances. Du Man sat motionless at her desk for a long time, only using her left hand to rub that dark blue patch on the side of her right finger.

Doesn’t like it?

This year, everyone seemed to have learned to lie. I went to bed early last night, I didn’t study at all, and I didn’t write a single word for the last question. I was very healthy as a child, I hate aerobics so I won’t participate, I’m not rushing to finalize the performance for someone’s sake. Strangely, even though we clearly know how poorly crafted these lies are, we still tell them, as if finding a dignified excuse for the cowardly and incompetent self inside – we let that self be arrogant for a while.

The art of lying became increasingly sophisticated, yet the nature of the lies grew more complex.

In the end, Liao Xinyan had no choice but to step in herself to complete the performance. An energetic young girl with, a unique style of play, plus the presence of two big shots Jing Qichi and Song Cong – Class 5 won second place in the competition. Afterward, the group went to the milk tea shop at the school gate to celebrate. Liao Xinyan was a bit disappointed, feeling she had let everyone down by missing several moves. Jing Qichi comforted her, “The first place was a large-scale magic show – ask them how much they spent renting props first.”

A performing boy teased her, “Yeah, Monitor, you traded a few bucks for benefits for the whole class, be content.”

The prize was five boxes of canned coffee, carrying the school’s earnest hopes.

Everyone discussed funny moments from the performance. Jing Qichi nudged Huan’er, “Haven’t seen Qi Qi lately.”

“She’s busy with tutoring, probably trying to make a push for the finals,” Huan’er answered this way, but in fact, she wasn’t sure if her friend’s answer was true either.

Something had indeed started to change.

Thinking of this, she hugged her phone and sent a message: Qi, we’re all at the west gate of the school, have you gone back?

When they finished their milk tea, everyone said they were tired. Someone stood up, “Let’s disperse, still got homework to do.”

Until the end, Qi Qi never replied.