As Qiao Qingyu passed by Class 3 of the second year, a male student rushed in front of her and shouted, “Er Hua!”
His tall frame loomed close, forcing her to stop in her tracks.
“Er Hua~” the tall student sneered, leaning even closer, his unfamiliar breath hitting the tip of her nose, frightening her into backing away repeatedly.
“Her ears turned red!” the boy shouted over Qiao Qingyu’s head.
The crowd behind burst into mocking laughter. Qiao Qingyu was filled with hatred as her gaze slowly lifted, fixing intently on the boy’s exaggerated laughing face.
Sensing her icy stare, the boy stopped laughing and put on a pretend-fearful expression. “Oh, I’m so scared! Don’t touch me! I’m still a virgin, I don’t want to get AIDS…”
“Chen Yuqian.”
Ming Sheng’s voice drifted into Qiao Qingyu’s ears like a cold wind. Chen Yuqian’s mouth snapped shut.
Then Ming Sheng emerged from behind Chen Yuqian: “Come with me.”
He strode past Qiao Qingyu without a sideways glance.
Ever since someone had posted Qiao Baiyu’s photos online, Qiao Qingyu had been given the nickname “Er Hua.” Er Hua meant the second-rate village beauty, inferior to Qiao Baiyu. Sometimes male students would call her “Lao Er” with vulgar undertones, making her stomach churn with nausea. As time passed, she would feel dizzy whenever she entered crowded student areas.
She had seen that post on Building 88’s forum titled “The Most Beautiful AIDS Patient,” which contained artistic photos of Qiao Baiyu taken at some unknown time. The photos were as pure and transparent as diamonds, more captivating than the cover girls of romance novels. The poster claimed to be Qiao Baiyu’s classmate of many years, watching her descent into depravity from elementary school through high school. The post concluded: “Her ambitions reached the heavens, but her life was as thin as paper.”
Qiao Qingyu discovered that many things in the world were half-truth and half-fiction, just like this online post. The true part was the post’s examples of Qiao Baiyu’s improper behavior, such as stealing others’ boyfriends since middle school. The false part was the poster’s identity.
Qiao Baiyu had no long-term classmates from elementary through high school. She initially attended Lifang Township Central School, then transferred to Shunyun No. 3 Middle School before ninth grade, repeating eighth grade and falling behind a year. In her high school year, when the newly established Huajun Art School in Shunyun was recruiting students everywhere, her parents sent her there. The art school was expensive, with only two classes in its first year, gathering students from well-off families who couldn’t get into regular high schools. Qiao Baiyu was the only one who had studied in the countryside for eight years.
The post’s content revealed that the poster had merely collected hearsay, and combined with Qiao Baiyu’s outstanding appearance, easily reached the conclusion that “her ambitions reached the heavens, but her life was as thin as paper.” In Qiao Qingyu’s view, only the latter half of these eight characters rang true. Although Qiao Baiyu had stolen money and lived freely since childhood, Qiao Qingyu knew her sister wasn’t an ambitious person.
She just liked attention.
Qiao Qingyu found it difficult to explain to others that Qiao Baiyu’s actions were purely following her nature, unlike herself, who had the patience to endure. Qiao Baiyu’s criteria for choosing men was simple: gentleness.
That was enough to satisfy her.
Gentle, affectionate older men held a fatal attraction for Qiao Baiyu, regardless of whether they already had partners. In this regard, Qiao Baiyu was indeed as those online critics called her – “cheap.”
As she entered the auditorium, several chattering first-year girls in the front rows cast several contemptuous glances at Qiao Qingyu. As she passed them with an unchanged expression, the girl on the outside unconsciously moved inward.
The auditorium event was the second-year English recitation competition. Qiao Qingyu arrived late, and the audience seats were already packed with a sea of heads. Someone called out “Er Hua” again. Qiao Qingyu pulled her thoughts away from Qiao Baiyu, but the pool of stares made her dizzy.
Where was Jiang Nian? Oh, Jiang Nian was in the front row, preparing to compete.
Class 5’s section was in the middle portion, and most people had arrived. Qiao Qingyu distantly glanced at the few dark empty chairs among the crowd, steadied herself, and walked toward the back of the auditorium.
The rear half of the audience section was empty. She chose the darkest corner to sit down.
Ye Zilin and Chen Yuqian appeared silently after the competition began, sitting to her left and front, surrounding her.
“Hey, Er Hua,” Ye Zilin turned his head and lowered his voice, “Tomorrow morning, big brother will take you to see the Minjiang Tidal Bore.”
“Help you make some friends outside school,” Chen Yuqian leaned in from the side, “So you won’t be so lonely in Huan Zhou. If you run into trouble, you won’t end up helpless like your sister…”
Qiao Qingyu interrupted expressionlessly: “It’s Ming Sheng’s turn.”
As soon as she finished speaking, thunderous applause erupted in the auditorium, with piercing screams from both male and female students. Although Qiao Qingyu’s anxious thoughts were completely elsewhere, she couldn’t help but be captivated by Ming Sheng in his white dress shirt.
This guy usually only wore loose sports T-shirts, but for the competition, he changed into a crisp shirt and dress pants, his tall figure truly eye-catching. She couldn’t see his face clearly, nor did she need to. Before speaking, he first adjusted the microphone’s height and then held it with one hand while scanning the surroundings. These simple, flowing movements made it impossible for Qiao Qingyu to look away. The spotlight had a magical power, transforming the arrogant and difficult rebellious youth into a graceful and modest gentleman.
Like everyone else in the auditorium, Qiao Qingyu held her breath.
“Good afternoon.”
Ming Sheng’s controlled and courteous voice through the microphone crashed into Qiao Qingyu’s chest like a shock wave. Her suspended heart swayed unsteadily, like a swing in the wind.
Almost simultaneously, a scream of “Ah—” came from the center of the audience.
“Tiantian came too?” Ye Zilin turned back in surprise, smirking, “Too crazy, with teachers sitting here~”
Chen Yuqian grimaced: “Miss Su doesn’t care about teachers… Er Hua, coming to see the Minjiang tide tomorrow?”
“No.”
Hearing her cold tone, Ye Zilin and Chen Yuqian exchanged glances.
“Ahem,” Chen Yuqian coughed twice, “We’ll introduce you to your sister’s ex-boyfriend, he’s a rich second generation…”
His meaningful look made Qiao Qingyu’s hair stand on end.
“No.”
Qiao Qingyu left them behind and walked out of the auditorium.
The sky was clear, the breeze gentle and quiet. Without thinking, she walked toward the garden beside the auditorium. Finding a bench to sit on, she looked up at the sky, closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and slowly exhaled, trying to expel Ming Sheng’s lingering voice from her mind.
The microphone had added a touch of depth and magnetism to his voice, which, combined with his unique languidness, was fatally enchanting.
She suddenly opened her eyes to find the sky pristinely blue and vast.
Qiao Qingyu remembered Qiao Baiyu telling her that Huan Zhou was beautiful. Three years ago, during the Mid-Autumn Festival on a Sunday, less than a month after arriving in Huan Zhou, Qiao Baiyu had excitedly called home.
“Qingqing,” when she heard it was Qiao Qingyu who answered, Qiao Baiyu called out happily, “I’m at North Mountain. Wow, the view of Huan Zhou from here is so dreamy! Qing Lake is blue, just like the sky!”
Qiao Qingyu had forgotten how she responded, only remembering her lukewarm attitude. Before answering the call, she had seen the caller ID – the phone number wasn’t Qiao Baiyu’s. Heaven knew if there was a man with her. She hadn’t asked, firstly because she had been taught from childhood that as a younger sister, she had no right to question her elder sister’s affairs, and secondly because she truly had no interest.
Now, she couldn’t help but wonder if the “ex-boyfriend” Chen Yuqian mentioned was the person who had accompanied Qiao Baiyu up North Mountain years ago.
But whether he was or wasn’t, what did it matter to her? The further she stayed from the people Qiao Baiyu associated with, the better.
After a long while, Qiao Qingyu got up and walked back to the teaching building. All second-year students were in the auditorium, leaving the second and third floors empty. Qiao Qingyu walked slowly up the stairs along the wall. Just as she was about to turn and enter Class 5 through the back door, she heard voices by the door.
“She’s still Er Hua,” Ye Zilin’s voice said, “What does it matter if Qiao Qingyu wasn’t raised in the village? Look at her country bumpkin appearance! How can she compare to her sister?”
Qiao Qingyu looked down at her pink striped short-sleeve polo shirt – a style from five or six years ago, Qiao Baiyu’s clothes.
“Alright, Young Master Ye, we know you have high standards. Only beauties like Qiao Baiyu can catch your eye,” Chen Yuqian spoke up, “But this Qiao Baiyu was something else. If Black Brother hadn’t told us, who would have known she grew up in the countryside? Both fashionable and pure, truly rare…”
Because almost all the photos circulating online were taken after she came to Huan Zhou, Qiao Qingyu thought silently.
When it came to buying clothes, her parents had always ignored her. Qiao Baiyu liked to chase trends, choosing bright colors, and even though Qiao Qingyu despised it, she could only let these outdated, exaggerated clothes make her stand out as different among her classmates.
“And she had such allure, those eyes showed she was someone with stories to tell. I just love that kind of experienced beauty…” Ye Zilin drooled, “The girls at our school are all too proper. There are many girls like Qiao Baiyu in the Jiangbin New District, but none are as beautiful as her. Qiao Baiyu was so easy, how did I never run into her…”
“Tsk tsk tsk, stop being disgusting, she’s already dead,” Chen Yuqian said, “Don’t you think about how she died.”
“AIDS, right,” Ye Zilin blurted out, then suddenly became terrified, “If Black Brother was her boyfriend before, wouldn’t he…”
“He was one of her boyfriends, they broke up quickly,” Chen Yuqian said seriously, “Don’t worry, I asked privately, Black Brother is fine. He broke up with her when he discovered her improper behavior. She got infected after they broke up…”
“Ah, beautiful women have always had tragic fates,” Ye Zilin sighed, “Looks like I still need to be careful, can’t find girls who are too open… Such a beautiful woman, what a shame she brought it upon herself. Why didn’t heaven give her a bit more brains, right, Ah Sheng?”
Only then did Qiao Qingyu realize Ming Sheng was among them, and unconsciously held her breath, listening intently.
“Stop gossiping behind people’s backs,” Ming Sheng sounded cold, his voice losing the mesmerizing radiance it had in the auditorium, returning to his usual casual tone, “You’re too chatty.”
“Qiao Baiyu is already dead, what’s wrong with talking about her?” Ye Zilin sounded unconvinced, “Everyone’s talking about it, and I wasn’t the one who brought it up, Chen Yuqian did…”
“I was just saying Qiao Qingyu’s nose and eyes look similar to Qiao Baiyu’s…”
“You even said Qiao Qingyu is prettier than Deng Meixi. Don’t tell me you’ve fallen for Er Hua?”
“Fuck off, as if I’d fall for her! Look at her! Ah Sheng’s already being lenient with her, and she’s getting cocky. How could I like her?”
“Weren’t you the one saying she looked pitiful when people mocked her…”
“I was just agreeing with what Ah Sheng said, she…”
“Enough,” Ming Sheng suddenly cut in, his tone sharp, “Aren’t you tired of this?”
The air went still. Ming Sheng switched to a softer tone: “Just don’t fucking mention Qiao Baiyu anymore, it’s depressing.”
“Yes, yes, yes,” Ye Zilin smiled ingratiatingly, “That woman was too dirty.”
“She was too tragic,” Ming Sheng said, letting out a quick breath, “Abandoned by her parents in the countryside since childhood, fucking hell, even more of a Les Misérables than Qiao Qingyu.”
His words shocked Qiao Qingyu.
She recalled feeling guilty toward Qiao Baiyu when she was very young. At four or five years old, she had heard adults in Nan Qiao Village joke about her and Qiao Baiyu more than once, laughing about letting Qiao Baiyu return to her parents in Shunyun while she stayed in the village with her grandparents. Such jokes often frightened her to tears, clutching tightly to Li Fanghao’s legs, saying she didn’t want to switch with her sister.
“No switching, no switching,” Li Fanghao stroked her head, “In a couple of years when we get a bigger house, we’ll bring your sister back, and the whole family can be together.”
Busybodies would continue to encourage Qiao Baiyu, listing all the fun places in Shunyun, and pressuring her about whether she missed her parents. Qiao Baiyu usually responded with silence, but once, when truly cornered, she had to speak: “Qingqing is my little sister, she’s still young, I should let her have her way.”
This earned applause from the adults, ending the tasteless joke. Qiao Qingyu breathed a sigh of relief but couldn’t feel joy. Qiao Baiyu’s watery eyes were filled with restrained sorrow, directed at her, weighing her down.
That was the first time, wasn’t it, that she felt deeply apologetic toward her sister-
During the National Day holiday, the noodle shop closed for three days, and Qiao Qingyu and Qiao Jinyu followed their parents back to Shunyun. Earlier, a typhoon had caused the creek to swell, and the muddy flood had soaked their grandparents’ old house into an uninhabitable dangerous building. Upon arriving in Shunyun, the family rushed straight to Nan Qiao Village.
Grandfather Qiao Lilong and Uncle Qiao Haisheng stood at the village entrance to welcome them. After exchanging greetings upon getting out of the car, Qiao Haisheng took Qiao Jinyu’s hand and led everyone to the new house not far from the village entrance.
Qiao Qingyu followed the adults to tour the new house, automatically offering words of praise. “Fortunately, we moved Mom and Dad here before the typhoon,” Qiao Haisheng said proudly, “It was Jinrui’s idea. That boy is thoughtful, checking the weather forecast every day, always worried about home.”
Grandmother Fang Zhaodi’s face wrinkled with smiles as she took Qiao Jinyu’s hand: “Xiaorui is capable, and Xiaoyu is also very capable. These two grandsons were truly born well, you two brothers are both blessed!”
“Will anyone still live in the old house?” Qiao Qingyu asked. Standing by the window in the third-floor corridor, her gaze passed over the undulating rooftops outside to the yellowed-white back wall of the old house by the creek.
“It’s uninhabitable now,” Aunt Liu Yanfen smiled, “Mom and Dad will live with us from now on. Lusheng, you all can come here for New Year’s, treat this as your own home. Don’t worry about Mom and Dad usually, we’ll take good care of them…”
Li Fanghao followed Liu Yanfen’s lead and began exchanging pleasantries. Qiao Qingyu found it boring and stepped into the room on the right—where she and Qiao Jinyu would sleep tonight.
The spacious room contained only one bed, emanating newness. In the corner was a deep red leather sofa, old, moved from Qiao Baiyu’s room in the old house.
“Sis,” Qiao Jinyu came over, “Time to go down for dinner.”
“How are we supposed to sleep?” Qiao Qingyu nodded at the bed, “Are you taking the sofa or am I?”
“I knew you’d worry about this,” Qiao Jinyu smiled helplessly, “Don’t worry, I’ll sleep downstairs with Dad, you sleep upstairs with Mom.”
Qiao Qingyu hadn’t shared a bed with Li Fanghao for many years; truthfully, she had no memory of sleeping with her mother. When Qiao Jinyu was born, she was one and a half, and according to Li Fanghao, she was already sleeping independently in another room by then.
The early autumn night was slightly cool. After showering, and walking up to the third floor in slippers, Qiao Qingyu secretly hoped Li Fanghao was already asleep.
She didn’t like being alone with her mother.
The room was lit only by a dim yellow bedside lamp, the bedding neat, Li Fanghao curled up barefoot on the red sofa, her head nodding drowsily, apparently waiting for her.
“Mom?”
Hearing her voice, Li Fanghao gave her a bleary-eyed look, let out a long yawn, and got up to walk to the bed: “Taking so long to shower? Let’s sleep.”
Qiao Qingyu wondered why Li Fanghao hadn’t waited on the bed. Perhaps she was reminiscing again, thinking of Qiao Baiyu.
Recalling Uncle’s explanation that the flood-damaged old house was uninhabitable and they probably wouldn’t go there anymore, with all of the grandparents’ needed clothing moved over—Qiao Qingyu glanced at the dark red sofa in the dim yellow light, couldn’t help but wonder—did that mean all of her sister’s things would be abandoned?
The old house was a traditional brick and tile building, two stories high. Qiao Baiyu had lived for eight years in a room on the second floor, without a ceiling—looking up, you’d see black tiles like fish scales and dark-toned round wooden beams. It was a long, narrow room with a wooden window facing southeast. The desk, bed, wardrobe, and sofa could only be arranged in a single line, and with the window closed, it felt like being in an endless tunnel. Qiao Qingyu remembered the red sofa was moved in later, apparently because Qiao Baiyu had seen it in a shop and liked it, and their parents, to please her, actually bought it.
A modern-style red sofa, placed in a room where everything else was antique wooden furniture, looked extremely out of place.
“Your grandparents just hate waste, can’t bear to throw things away,” Li Fanghao said, seeing Qiao Qingyu looking at the red sofa, “Don’t know why they brought this sofa over.”
Qiao Qingyu boldly, tentatively spoke up: “Mom, are we getting rid of everything from sister’s old room?”
“That house is unlucky,” Li Fanghao responded unexpectedly quickly, her breath urgent, “It’s not the first or second time it’s been flooded. The feng shui of that place is bad, otherwise, how could the Qiao family, who were well-off before liberation with many descendants, fall so quickly? Look, in the village besides your grandparents, only that useless Qiao Dayong and his crazy wife live in that pit, who else would want to live there? Your grandparents should have moved out long ago.”
Qiao Qingyu nodded in agreement. It seemed the adults had no intention of keeping anything from Qiao Baiyu’s room.
Li Fanghao’s mention of Qiao Dayong’s crazy wife reminded Qiao Qingyu of another reason she hadn’t wanted to switch with Qiao Baiyu when she was young. Who would want to live across from a mad woman who screamed in the middle of the night?
“Let’s sleep.” Li Fanghao commanded.
The village retired early, but Qiao Qingyu wasn’t sleepy at all. After the lights went out, she lay with her eyes open, listening to Li Fanghao’s breathing become increasingly even and steady. Turning her head, the autumn wind lifted the thin gauze curtains, rustling against the red sofa, making soft, scattered sounds.
This sofa had originally been in Qiao Baiyu’s room, right under the window.
In the quiet night, thinking of Qiao Baiyu’s former room, the crowded desk, the walls covered with celebrity posters, the wardrobe stuffed with carelessly placed clothes and dresses, the light snow-white curtains under the black tiles, Qiao Qingyu couldn’t help but feel sad.
For Qiao Baiyu’s eight years that no one treasured.
She thought of Ming Sheng saying Qiao Baiyu was “too tragic,” and felt guilty that she, as a sister, needed an outsider to remind her of her sister’s circumstances.
Then again, although Ming Sheng appeared arrogant on the surface, he saw things clearly and showed unexpected empathy.
The silence amplified the sound of the gauze curtain rubbing against the sofa. Qiao Qingyu quietly got out of bed.
Approaching the window, she shivered. Pushing aside the gauze curtain, about to close the window, she suddenly noticed a brightly lit window in the distant old house.
Qiao Qingyu steadied herself and looked carefully, confirming that the lit room was indeed the one Qiao Baiyu had lived in.
A figure slowly appeared in the window, the light from the room flickering between bright yellow and vivid red, with strange black smoke billowing from the window.
That wasn’t a light, it was fire.
Qiao Qingyu screamed-
Among all those who rushed toward the old house, Qiao Qingyu was the first to arrive. A woman engulfed in flames was rolling on the ground, and upon seeing someone approach, she desperately rushed over.
Qiao Qingyu kept backing away, when suddenly the woman stopped, something small and burning fell from her arms, and she leaped into the creek.
Qiao Lusheng, Qiao Haisheng, and the others arrived shortly after, frantically carrying water buckets to the second floor to extinguish the fire. The burning object lay right by Qiao Qingyu’s feet; she stomped on it hard several times until the fire went out, and several tattered pieces of paper flew up in the wind.
Qiao Dayong rushed from across the way into the creek to save his burning mad wife, cursing all the while: “What a curse, what a curse, I might as well kill you and be done with it…”
The wind suddenly grew stronger, and several flames leaped up, making the fire more intense.
Before helping the adults extinguish the fire, Qiao Qingyu quickly picked up the tattered papers from the ground—she had noticed writing on them, Qiao Baiyu’s writing. Li Fanghao came over, saw her carrying a water bucket, and shooed her aside. Helplessly, Qiao Qingyu watched as the fire grew fiercer until everyone had to evacuate the courtyard.
It all happened too quickly. Beside her, Li Fanghao, facing the burning old house, was crying uncontrollably.
“It’s all gone,” Li Fanghao cried out hoarsely, “Xiaobai, all your things are gone, gone with you…”
Qiao Qingyu still clutched those few pieces of paper. By the bright firelight, she slowly opened her palm and carefully examined the writing on the paper.
Her gaze was immediately drawn to the most complete sentence in the middle. It was clear these were words Qiao Baiyu had written many years ago, somewhat immature but neat and clean, beautiful like her face.
“Jinrui ge took my first time,” Qiao Baiyu had written, “I love him, but I still cried.”
At first, Qiao Qingyu thought this was a letter Qiao Baiyu had once written to someone, but she quickly realized these pages were actually from a diary. In the scorched upper left corner was a blurry handwritten year: ’98.
Ten years ago, she was six, and Qiao Baiyu was twelve, just graduated from elementary school. That summer night, the most brilliant fireworks bloomed above the old house, celebrating Qiao Jinrui’s admission to Huan Zhou University. That year, the red sofa mysteriously appeared in the tunnel-like room to please Qiao Baiyu. That year, the money in the Shunyun drawer hadn’t yet disappeared, and Qiao Qingyu could still freely enter and leave her parents’ room.
Beside her, Li Fanghao was still wailing, her voice as grief-stricken as a roaring mountain flood. Qiao Qingyu felt the world spinning, all sound suddenly fading away.
So they had all been wrong.