Breaking her usual routine, Qiao Qingyu entered the classroom through the back door after returning from the library. Today was the first day of the school’s sports meet and club exhibition, and most students were either at the playground or the square after lunch. Only a few people remained in the classroom, including Ming Sheng.
He had one knee propped against the desk edge, holding a thin English novel in one hand, his posture casual but deeply absorbed in reading.
Qiao Qingyu paused for two seconds behind him, then stopped again when passing Ye Zilin’s seat in the last row of the third group.
“It was right here,” she looked toward her seat, measuring in her mind, “from this angle.”
Ye Zilin, who had been chatting on his phone, suddenly spun around: “What the hell? Sneaking peeks?”
As he spoke, he flipped his silver phone face-down. Qiao Qingyu noticed the phone had a beautiful camera on its back, looking very much like a digital camera.
“Are you sick or something, creeping around like a ghost!” Ye Zilin cursed, “So gloomy, go get some sunshine!”
Ming Sheng glanced over in their direction. Qiao Qingyu didn’t linger any longer, stepping forward to return to her seat.
It must have been Ye Zilin who took those photos and sent them to his gang of friends. Which meant Ming Sheng probably knew too.
Her mind fell into chaos, her heart dropping like it had fallen into an ice hole, instantly cold. But what was there to be disappointed about—she mocked herself, hadn’t she seen clearly at the beginning of the semester? Ming Sheng was just an arrogant, vicious bastard who shouldn’t be crossed!
Taking out He Kai’s letter again, the three large characters “Qiao Qingyu” on the envelope looked somewhat sad. The content was fine though, printed in standard SimSun font, with clear paragraphs, like an exemplary composition published in a newspaper.
“Dear Classmate Qiao Qingyu, I hope this letter finds you well!”
Spreading out the letter, Qiao Qingyu read it again. The pressure and adjustments of senior year, the distant but precious dreams, and gratitude for everything and everyone around—this letter seemed less like it was written for her and more like He Kai’s personal monologue. Only the string of questions at the end reminded Qiao Qingyu that He Kai was expecting a reply.
Qiao Qingyu picked up her pen.
After writing “Your letter was both surprising and delightful,” she got stuck. Those questions like “How are you getting along with your new classmates” and “You must have dreams too, can you tell me about them”—she didn’t want to answer any of them. Yet she indeed had many emotions urgently needing expression, perhaps too many, blocking up at her pen tip.
After pondering for a long while, she squeezed out two perfunctory responses. He Kai’s letter was a perfect youth world, without mention of his pain from Ming Sheng’s bullying, nor any reference to Qiao Baiyu, who stuck to Qiao Qingyu like a label. As she wrote, Qiao Qingyu suddenly realized she didn’t recognize these casual, light-hearted sentences flowing from her pen, as if another person was writing the letter.
Thinking about it again, it made sense—how dare she plainly show her true self, torn by countless worries, to He Kai?
Having completed the task of replying, Qiao Qingyu let out a big sigh of relief. Next, she needed to go to the stationery store across from the school gate to buy an envelope and stamps, then walk to the intersection to slip the letter into the dark green mailbox.
Then she could go home. Three hours early, she definitely wouldn’t run into those thugs who claimed they would wait for her at the school gate.
She had also thought of an excuse for leaving early—she would say she had menstrual cramps. The sports meeting had nothing to do with her, Sun Yinglong had no reason not to let her leave.
Having planned everything, Qiao Qingyu stood up to pack her bag. The people in the classroom had disappeared at some point, the back door was wide open, and Ming Sheng’s desk and chair by the door were empty.
Something on Ye Zilin’s messy desk glinted faintly.
Peering over, Qiao Qingyu saw clearly—it was the phone he had been grinning at earlier.
From the roughhousing of the boys in the back row, she had heard that Ye Zilin had more than one phone. Supposedly because he had more than one girlfriend outside school, and to avoid sending messages to the wrong person, he simply used one phone number per girlfriend. Sometimes when he was too busy, he would delegate his phones to people around him, dictating while others typed for him. Once, Chen Shen was holding the phone and howling, drawing almost all the boys in class around him—a girlfriend several years older had, under Chen Shen’s deliberate provocation, sent a very revealing photo.
Qiao Qingyu, who had never paid attention to their roughhousing, was surprised to find she had unconsciously remembered so much.
Walking past Ye Zilin’s desk, Qiao Qingyu stopped again. The wide pencil case was open, the carelessly placed phone face-down, happening to press down on one side of the pencil case’s zipper. On the back of the phone, the small square lens cover was open, with a shiny ring above the cover—that was the round camera lens like a door’s peephole.
The English letters at the other end of the small green circle must be the phone brand. Leaning closer, Qiao Qingyu read clearly: Sony Ericsson.
“What are you looking at?”
Her heart skipped a beat, and she turned around in panic to see Ming Sheng leaning against the doorframe, his face full of suspicion.
How had he appeared so silently?
“Nothing.”
Like being caught doing something wrong, Qiao Qingyu’s face instantly burned red. She lowered her head, taking hurried small steps, quickly brushing past Ming Sheng’s scrutinizing gaze, and swiftly disappeared from his sight.
After successfully mailing the letter, Qiao Qingyu took the bus home but got off one stop early, turning into an inconspicuous internet café in a small alley.
Entering an internet café for the first time, she felt full of guilt, but she couldn’t worry about that now. Finding a hidden empty seat, she quickly typed in her QQ number and password on the greasy keyboard.
Friend requests were still pouring in continuously. This time, Qiao Qingyu was more careful—unless she thought it might be He Feihai, she clicked reject. After the penguin finally stopped jumping, she opened the chat window of “I Only Care About You” and, after some hesitation, sent a line:
“Ye Zilin didn’t just send my photos to you alone, did he?”
The avatar showed “Busy” status, with an automatic reply popping up. It was still early, so Qiao Qingyu waited. She searched for images of Sony Ericsson phones and quickly found the same model as Ye Zilin’s—it was this year’s new model with 8 million pixels for photos. Just then, the chat window suddenly turned yellow.
“He said you’re beautiful and lonely, need care, little beauty~”
The truth came out so easily. Qiao Qingyu gave a light laugh, her fingers hovering over the keyboard, quickly thinking.
“Don’t be scared, little sister, brother will take good care of you, why else would your sister be willing to drink with me before~” The other side started rambling, “Huan City is so big, with so many bad people, you’re new here and don’t know anyone, just like your sister before, how pitiful~ Brother hates seeing little girls looking so pitiful, be good, call me Big Brother, and Big Brother will cherish you…”
“Where did you drink with my sister before?” Qiao Qingyu replied, “How did you know her?”
“Your sister met thugs as soon as she went to school, and I was her hero! Little sister, isn’t brother very kind?”
So this man met Qiao Baiyu right when she started school, Qiao Qingyu thought. This man who called himself kind reminded her of a wolf in sheep’s clothing. And cheap, poorly made sheep’s clothing at that.
So, how long did their “friendship” last? Did this man on the other side of the screen know much about Qiao Baiyu’s life in Huan City?
“No friends, being mocked, feeling bitter inside, right?” the other side was still chattering, “Don’t worry, now you have a brother, though I, Black Brother, mostly hang around Jiangbin, I have plenty of friends on this side of the river too. If you have trouble, just call out, I’ll help! In a while, I’ll bring several people to the Second Middle School gate to back you up, after that, you can walk wherever you want in school!”
Qiao Qingyu typed “no need,” then thought better of it and deleted those two characters.
“These days there’s the school sports meet and club exhibition day, lots of teachers in the square, lots of parents coming and going at the school gate, too many people, not very convenient,” Qiao Qingyu typed out in a rush, “Can we meet after school on Friday instead?”
After sending it, the other side didn’t reply immediately. After hesitating for a moment, Qiao Qingyu added: “That day I won’t be in a hurry to get home.”
Quickly several smiling faces appeared in the chat window: “Little sister is so thoughtful! Okay, then we won’t come today.”
After getting rid of this “Black Brother,” Qiao Qingyu fell into deep thought. This delaying tactic couldn’t resolve her predicament, but deep inside, she seemed to be looking forward to meeting these people. For a moment she didn’t know what to do next, like being stuck between two huge rocks, unable to move.
Just then, the penguin in the bottom right corner turned into a flashing horn—someone else was adding her.
Numbly clicking the mouse, the requester’s avatar popped up, just the penguin itself. Scanning past the brief username after the avatar, Qiao Qingyu couldn’t help but sit up straight.
Cang Yi.
That is, Feihai and Baiyu.
Taking a deep breath, Qiao Qingyu clicked “Accept.”
“Hello, Qingyu,” the other side got straight to the point, “I’m He Feihai.”
After Qiao Qingyu replied with “Hello, Big Brother He,” the other side went quiet. Remembering his wooden yet reliable demeanor, Qiao Qingyu decided to take the initiative.
“I have something I want to ask you, is that okay?”
A reply came quickly: “Okay.”
The straightforward reply made Qiao Qingyu feel incredibly reassured, even moved. After pondering for a moment, she typed:
“Were you my sister’s good friend?”
After sending it, she put down her hands and waited. Soon, the other side sent a long message:
“I know your family is curious about my relationship with Baiyu. My special trip back to Huan City to visit her this weekend seems to be strong evidence of an unusual relationship between us. I could see that Uncle and Auntie were shy people, and because the past events were too painful, they deliberately avoided mentioning Baiyu’s existence while having me for dinner. I wanted to explain, but Uncle and Auntie’s smiles made me unable to speak… Now that you’ve asked, I’ll tell you honestly.”
The other side was still typing, and Qiao Qingyu held her breath waiting.
“In seventh and eighth grade, Qiao Baiyu and I were classmates for two years, but not in the same class. She was too dazzling, any movement could attract others’ attention, and I wasn’t immune to being attracted either. But at that time, I was half a head shorter than her, dusty and poor, with my family barely making ends meet. So, regarding her, I only watched silently from afar. You could say she initiated and completed all my beautiful imaginings about girls, but was I her friend? The answer is no.”
Qiao Qingyu opened her mouth in shock: “But didn’t you go out together with her and Brother Jinrui?”
“It wasn’t just the three of us going out, but many people together,” He Feihai explained, “My grandmother’s house is in Nanqiao Village, and my two older cousins know Jinrui. After the college entrance exam results came out, my brothers and sisters said they wanted to celebrate for me, called up a big group of friends to go play in Xunyun together, and that time included Brother Jinrui and Qiao Baiyu. At that time, I wanted to ask for her contact information, but couldn’t gather the courage. To be honest, she and I were just strangers.”
Reading word by word, Qiao Qingyu couldn’t help but feel deflated. This meant He Feihai knew absolutely nothing about Qiao Baiyu.
“I thought since you even knew sister was buried in Anling Garden, you must have been at least her friend.”
“During Spring Festival this year, I went to my grandmother’s house in Nanqiao Village and met Brother Jinrui. I don’t know how he could tell I was still thinking about Qiao Baiyu, but anyway, he took the initiative to tell me that Baiyu was actually in Anling Garden, told me to go visit her when I had time, and asked me to keep it secret, saying we had to hide it from the elderly in the family.”
“How did he know sister was in Anling Garden? Why doesn’t he come to see sister himself??” Qiao Qingyu suddenly felt anger rising, and accidentally typed an extra question mark, “Such an important matter, why didn’t my parents tell me and Jinyu?”
“I also found it strange at the time, because it felt too lonely leaving Qiao Baiyu alone on a mountain in Huan City. But this is your family’s private matter, and as an outsider, it wasn’t my place to interfere, so I didn’t ask more.”
Letting out a disappointed breath, Qiao Qingyu leaned back in her chair. For a moment, she couldn’t think of what else to say, and the other side remained silent too.
Just as she was about to close QQ, a message popped up in “Cang Yi’s” chat window, as if trying to comfort her: “Thinking about it later, your parents are the people who love Qiao Baiyu most in the world, they must have their reasons for doing this.”
Qiao Qingyu unconsciously shook her head.
“Your parents are too kind,” He Feihai continued, “They have it very hard, not telling you must have their own considerations, and it must be for your own good, you should be more understanding of them.”
Qiao Qingyu slowly exhaled, her eyes losing focus from excessive disappointment and sudden impatience. Finally, she leaned forward and started typing rapidly:
“So about my sister, apart from her appearance, you know nothing else, right? I thought you were different from other men! Didn’t expect you to be just as shallow!”
She paused, then continued typing:
“Put away your fake affection! You don’t truly care about her! You even said to yourself you’re an outsider, what right do you have to lecture me? Of course, I know my parents want what’s best for us, do I need you to tell me that? You selfish person who doesn’t care about others’ business!”
Without waiting for He Feihai’s response, she resolutely shut down the computer. Standing up, her chest first felt constricted, then as if cut by a knife, all her rage tore through the narrow wound, erupting forth.
She felt herself burning up—just like that mad woman.
Covered in wounds, but fearless.