During the two days when Qiao Huan wasn’t at the shop, Li Fanghao had no choice but to let Qiao Qingyu take the bus to and from school by herself, as she couldn’t be in two places at once. This sudden “freedom,” however, made Qiao Qingyu feel uneasy.

On the bus, she always felt someone was secretly watching her. To avoid the groups of students, she would push her way toward the back after boarding, climbing up the two steps to the elevated rear section to blend in with the expressionless office workers.

To escape unwanted whispers, she would habitually plug in her earphones. Once or twice, as if trying to catch someone in the act, she would suddenly sweep her gaze across the student crowd, only to see young backs that had nothing to do with her. Ming Sheng was among them—which surprised her.

She thought perhaps she was being too sensitive about colored hair. The few boys chatting around Ming Sheng looked like troublemakers, one of them sporting bright yellow hair.

There had also been someone with yellow hair among the group that surrounded her at the milk tea shop near the school gate last time—Qiao Qingyu tried hard to recall, hating herself for being too panicked then to remember all their faces—but it probably wasn’t the same person as the one on the bus today.

Soon she thought angrily, even if it was the same person, wasn’t it only natural that Ming Sheng would be with them?

After getting off the bus, she would go to the shop for dinner, where Li Fanghao’s constant urging forced her to gulp down the steaming hot noodles. Qiao Qingyu thus deduced that calling the police hadn’t achieved the expected effect—those people still came uninvited. She wanted to ask Li Fanghao about it but didn’t dare. For two consecutive days, she found several patches of bright red marks of varying sizes on the steps at the shop’s entrance—at first she was terrified, thinking it was blood, but upon closer inspection, she sighed in relief: it was painted.

But why was there red paint?

Why had all of Qiao Baiyu’s things been thrown away?

When Qiao Huan returned on Saturday, the shop closed half an hour earlier than usual. Li Fanghao was doing laundry, Qiao Lusheng was watching TV, and Qiao Jinyu was lying in the inner room texting friends. After Qiao Huan finished her shower and returned to the room, yawning as she was about to get into bed, Qiao Qingyu, who was already sitting in bed against the wall, closed her library copy of “The Brothers Karamazov.”

“Sister Huan,” she asked directly, “did those people vandalize the shop’s door with graffiti?”

“Nothing like that,” Qiao Huan winked at her exaggeratedly, “What are you imagining? Don’t worry about it!”

Qiao Huan wasn’t good at lying. Qiao Qingyu gave a small laugh and didn’t pursue the matter further.

That day, except for Qiao Jinyu, everyone in the family went to bed unusually early. In the middle of the night, perhaps early morning, Qiao Qingyu hazily felt the space beside her become empty. Opening her eyes, she saw yellow light seeping through the gap under the wooden door—the living room light was on.

Soon came the sound of footsteps leaving, seemingly all three adults. The light went out, and the front door made a slow but crisp clicking sound.

Qiao Qingyu instantly became fully awake. Without thinking, she jumped out of bed, hastily put on pants and a jacket, and ran out as well.

She quickly caught sight of their hurrying figures. At the entrance of Chaoyang New Village, the three adults turned toward the noodle shop, and half a minute later, Qiao Qingyu crossed the road. Like last time, she hid behind a phoenix tree on the opposite side, furtively peering across.

Under the pale streetlight, the Qiao Family Handmade Noodle Shop’s silver-gray rolling door was covered with messy bright red characters:

“AIDS-infected family! Filthy! Sons of bitches!”

Extremely ugly, extremely vicious. There was also a crudely drawn girl in an obscene pose. It was horrifying to look at. Qiao Qingyu closed her eyes, feeling almost suffocated with distress.

From across the street came the harsh scraping sound of the rolling door being opened and then closed again. Qiao Lusheng brought out several buckets of paint from inside the shop, set up some chairs, and together with Li Fanghao and Qiao Huan, hurriedly began painting over the door with brown paint.

Qiao Qingyu quickly left.

She ran to the canal bank. The water was peaceful, the air silent, and remarkably, not a single car passed on the road at this hour. In the stillness, Qiao Qingyu turned her head and saw the immovable, twisted ancient camphor tree not far away, and walked toward it.

This time, the official protection plaque was clean and new, no longer covered with Ming Sheng’s warning notices.

The scene of He Kai being threatened by Ming Sheng under this tree months ago flashed into her mind. These dark months since entering Jin Huan No. 2 High School were like the black river water—suffocating.

It all started with Ming Sheng.

Looking up, the disorderly crisscrossing branches were covered with countless dark green leaves, like a huge net, heavily pressing down the sky. The trunk was covered in countless wrinkles—cracked, lifeless bark.

Qiao Qingyu stepped over the low railing.

These days she had been carrying that bronze utility knife with her; it lay solidly in her pants pocket, making her pants slightly misshapen but giving her a sense of security. Even in her rush to leave earlier, the knife was still with her.

Approaching the trunk, Qiao Qingyu pressed her lips tightly together and revealed the cold blade—

Monday morning, the strange threatening note Ming Sheng found in his desk sparked heated discussion in class: just two characters saying “Stop now,” written on the back of a brown piece of tree bark about half the size of a palm. Why was it considered threatening? Because—as Ming Sheng himself explained—one corner of the bark was charred, indicating that someone was threatening him with fire.

“Damn, didn’t you endure everything for the basketball tournament? How come someone’s still messing with you?” Chen Yuqian, who had specially come to join the excitement, was thrilled. “Why use tree bark? What kind of psycho is this?”

“I’d like to know too,” Ming Sheng’s voice wasn’t loud but was extremely penetrating, reaching Qiao Qingyu’s ears without losing any intensity, “who’s deliberately making things difficult for me, not even sparing an old tree.”

“It says ‘Stop now,’ did you bully some girl and push her too far?” Ye Zilin said carelessly with a laugh.

“That’s you,” Chen Yuqian retorted for Ming Sheng, “look at your boy-crazy self. Yesterday you didn’t even come to watch Sheng’s game, where were you hanging out… Finally got that girl from Jiangbin?”

Ye Zilin laughed lewdly: “Yesterday was my big day, not suitable for broadcasting, I’ll tell you the details later~”

After changing seats, Ming Sheng had left his “throne” by the back door and was now hanging on the other side of the classroom’s central axis, in the last row of the fifth small group, right next to the fourth group, less than two meters from Qiao Qingyu. As they talked, many people surged toward the back rows wanting to see the threatening note for themselves, and Ming Sheng let them pass it around. Qiao Qingyu lowered her head, mumbling at her English textbook, but her thoughts followed that piece of bark as it floated around the classroom. Finally, Guan Lan from her right front stood up and passed the bark to Gao Chi, who was sitting behind Qiao Qingyu, reaching his right arm over her head.

“Who’s so bored,” Guan Lan stood facing the back rows, left hand on hip, right hand unconsciously tapping on Qiao Qingyu’s desk in indignation, “Sheng, it must be those people from Yu Cai deliberately trying to provoke you, to affect our school team’s performance!”

“Ah, then we can’t fall into their trap. Wasn’t it the same last year when they deliberately challenged Sheng to a fight before the game?” Deng Meixi appeared out of nowhere and linked arms with Guan Lan. “It got Sheng disciplined and affected his performance in the game, so mean…”

Though she was speaking to Guan Lan, her words fell into everyone’s ears, including Qiao Qingyu’s. Before, why hadn’t she noticed how affected Deng Meixi was?

“That fat guy from Yu Cai last year got expelled,” Ye Zilin shouted, “I don’t believe they dare try a second time.”

The bark turned over and over in Gao Chi’s hands: “Why write it on tree bark? This must have been put on Sheng’s desk by someone from our school, right? Who was first to arrive in the classroom this morning, did anyone see students from other classes come in?”

“I opened the door~” Jiang Nian in the front row raised her hand like an elementary school student, “But I sit in the first row so I didn’t notice~”

“I was second to arrive, and didn’t see anyone from other classes~” Yang Wenxi, now sitting by the back door, spoke up, “Maybe it wasn’t put in Sheng’s desk this morning?”

“Looking at these knife marks, you can tell it wasn’t cut off long ago, definitely within the last day or two,” Gao Chi rubbed the bark thoughtfully, “Looks kind of like camphor tree bark…”

Amidst the teasing chorus of “Detective Gao Chi,” Qiao Qingyu quietly took a breath. For the first time, she realized how unified her Class 5 of Senior Year 2 was, and deeply understood Ming Sheng’s frightening nature: he seemed able to mobilize the whole class’s power without doing anything.

What was even more frightening was his silence. Using the old tree he cared about to threaten him—Qiao Qingyu didn’t believe she was as invisible to him as she was to others.

The ringing of the class bell interrupted the crime scene investigation that had consumed the entire classroom, but Qiao Qingyu knew this matter wouldn’t end there. Soon, she would become the target of a school-wide manhunt. As Teacher Wu explained vocabulary on the blackboard, she fidgeted absent-mindedly with her pen, dropping it several times. On the third time, as she bent to pick it up, Teacher Wu called on her.

“Read these example sentences.”

Due to her guilty conscience, Qiao Qingyu stumbled through the reading. While English had been one of her strong subjects at Sunyun No. 1 High School, here at Huanzhou No. 2, like all other subjects, her English was unremarkable, and her spoken English seemed particularly awkward due to its stiffness. At this moment, completely lacking confidence, she finished reading softly to the blackboard, so nervous that every pore on her body seemed to open up.

“Look how absent-minded you are,” Teacher Wu said disapprovingly. “Stand and listen.”

Qiao Qingyu lowered her head, blushing to her ears. Being treated like a poor student in class for the first time in her life, she wanted to disappear into the ground.

“Teacher,” Ming Sheng drawled, “she’s blocking our view back here~”

Teacher Wu’s eyes widened, and her helpless gaze passed over Qiao Qingyu, her face showing a barely perceptible hurt mixed with gentle reproach: “Then what do you suggest?”

“Have her stand in the back.”

Before Teacher Wu could nod, Qiao Qingyu had already picked up her book and squeezed out of her seat of her own accord. She kept her eyes straight ahead until she reached the blackboard at the back of the classroom. Only then did she notice Ming Sheng’s triumphant pose—fingers interlaced behind his head, leaning back. His chair was pushed back further than others, right knee against the edge of his desk, in a relaxed posture that would have earned him punishment in any teacher’s class at Sunyun No. 1.

As Teacher Wu continued explaining vocabulary, Qiao Qingyu fixed her gaze on the blackboard. Ming Sheng’s back was barely a meter away, just to her left front. In her peripheral vision, she saw Ming Sheng put his hands back on the desk, then, just as before, interlace them behind his head.

This time, however, he held a note between his fingers with three flamboyant characters: “It was you.”

This action made Qiao Qingyu’s heart pound. When Teacher Wu turned around, she quickly returned her gaze to the blackboard. Yes, it was me, she thought angrily. If you knew it was me, why let the bark be passed around the class?

After about fifteen seconds, Ming Sheng withdrew his hand, quickly wrote a few more characters, then just as before, interlaced his fingers behind his head while showing Qiao Qingyu the note:

“I told you already, mutual non-interference.”

After a moment’s recollection, Qiao Qingyu remembered—last time in the classroom when she had asked Ming Sheng to help find out the true cause of Qiao Baiyu’s death, he had indeed said these four words.

At the time she hadn’t paid much attention, subconsciously interpreting them simply as Ming Sheng’s refusal to help. Now, as he brought it up again, she understood he had been seriously drawing a line between them.

Then she suddenly realized she had crossed that line.

The answer was clear—Ming Sheng wasn’t the “accomplice” hidden behind Brother Hei. He had actively refused any connection with her. Besides, hadn’t she forgotten how Brother Hei ran at the mention of Ming Sheng?

As for whether he knew about what Brother Hei and his gang were doing to the noodle shop, that wasn’t important. In other words, even if he knew and took pleasure in it, Qiao Qingyu couldn’t say anything—after all, what Brother Hei and his gang did had nothing to do with him. The instigator of this matter was Ye Zilin.

It was she who had let anger drown out reason and made Ming Sheng an obvious target.

An unprecedented sense of shame swept over her. Though standing behind Ming Sheng, Qiao Qingyu felt as if she were standing before him, forcing him to watch her awkward flailing. An inexplicable embarrassment made her unable to lift her head.

She wished she could turn back time, put away the utility knife, put away that ridiculous determination in the night, and let that ancient camphor tree continue standing silently but unharmed.

Ming Sheng didn’t write anything more, instead picking up an English novel and instantly becoming absorbed in it. After writing a few keywords on the blackboard, Teacher Wu sat at her desk and told everyone to write a short essay. The classroom suddenly fell into dead silence. At the very back, enormous complicated emotions rolled like wheels over the only standing student, Qiao Qingyu. No one noticed her slip her hand into her uniform pocket, gripping the utility knife pressed against her thigh.

She believed this time it was the reason helping her make the decision—

Getting Ye Zilin to agree to meet was very simple, but seeing him wasn’t so smooth. After spending half an hour in the cold wind on the rooftop, Qiao Qingyu received a text from Ye Zilin telling her to go to the backstage of the auditorium.

The small door behind the auditorium wasn’t locked, but was unexpectedly heavy and solid, shutting out the light from outside. Qiao Qingyu groped her way into the unfamiliar territory she had never set foot in before. Around a corner, at the end of the pitch-black corridor, only the small “Emergency Exit” sign emitted a distant, ethereal green light. Qiao Qingyu stopped and called out “Ye Zilin.”

Receiving no response and not daring to go forward, she turned back. As she reached the corner she had just turned, suddenly a deafening “AH!” rang out beside her ear.

Qiao Qingyu jumped in fright. Ye Zilin burst out laughing.

“You…”

“Why did little Qiao ask to meet me?” Ye Zilin said in an oily voice, turning on his phone’s flashlight and, imitating horror movies, pointing it up at his chin from below, looking grotesque and terrifying. “Were you scared to death just now?”

Qiao Qingyu turned to leave: “Let’s talk outside.”

“Did Brother Hei and his gang bully you?” Ye Zilin followed her, getting to the door first and blocking her way with his tall frame. “Why didn’t you come to find me earlier? I can help you.”

His breath was very close, forcing Qiao Qingyu to step back twice: “I found you to ask why you gave those people my [social media account]?”

“Brother Hei is a very gentle big brother, he can protect you,” Ye Zilin gave a light laugh. “Besides, you agreed yourself. Brother Hei told me that when all those brothers added you, you accepted them one by one!”

Qiao Qingyu choked on her words.

“If you wanted friends, you should have just said so,” Ye Zilin’s voice suddenly turned ambiguous, his shadow constantly pressing closer. “I understand girls best. The moment I saw you, I knew you needed protection. When you got into trouble with Sheng, I was more worried than anyone… Your skin is so white, and you’re always cold, just like an ice crystal. But I just love ice crystals, so pure and clean…”

As he spoke, Qiao Qingyu felt something crawling up her arm, like a snake. She quickly realized it was Ye Zilin’s uninvited hand roaming on her upper arm.

“Ye Zilin!” Qiao Qingyu roared, shaking him off. “You’re disgusting!”

After saying this, she forcefully pushed away the figure in front of her, burst out the door, and ran into the garden.

Ye Zilin didn’t follow.

In the garden, Qiao Qingyu gradually regained her composure. Feeling the utility knife in her pocket, she steadied her thoughts and walked toward the auditorium again.

But Ye Zilin was gone. She searched and finally spotted his hateful figure in the stands by the basketball court on the playground.

Circling behind Ye Zilin, Qiao Qingyu tapped his shoulder: “Come with me.”

Amid everyone’s surprise, she led Ye Zilin down from the stands, walking to a corner away from prying eyes. As soon as they stopped, she precisely placed the utility knife against the middle of his neck, just below his ear.

“What are you trying to do…” Ye Zilin’s legs instantly went weak.

“This is a brand new utility knife,” Qiao Qingyu step by step, her right hand holding the knife perfectly still, forced him against the side wall of the stands. “It can easily cut through your skin. Do you know what’s behind this thin skin?”

Ye Zilin’s voice was feeble: “I’m warning you, Qiao Qingyu if you dare…”

“The carotid artery,” Qiao Qingyu interrupted him, pressing the ice-cold blade flat against Ye Zilin’s neck. “Since you say I’m like an ice crystal, let me show you how sharp an ice crystal can be.”

Ye Zilin’s eyes bulged like a goldfish’s, showing an expression of incredible terror.

“Tell Brother Hei and his gang to stop coming to my family’s shop,” Qiao Qingyu said. “You started this, you must resolve it.”

“I just gave them your [social media account], I’m not that close with them!” Ye Zilin protested. “I don’t even know what they did to you!”

A few meters away at the edge of the playground, several girls passed by chattering, one of them glancing this way several times. Seeing Ye Zilin’s head turn slightly, Qiao Qingyu immediately increased the pressure on her right hand: “Don’t move.”

“I don’t know them well!” Ye Zilin’s face crumpled. “I just wanted to pursue a girl from No. 22 High School, and Brother Hei helped me get her [social media account]. In exchange, I gave him a female classmate’s [account], that’s all!”

“He harasses my family’s shop every day…”

“What does that have to do with me!” Ye Zilin suddenly shouted.

“Don’t think I won’t do it, Ye Zilin,” Qiao Qingyu’s face darkened. “If you don’t agree to resolve this, I’ll cut a line across your neck.”

“The problem is I can’t do it,” Ye Zilin wore a bitter expression. “I told you, I’m not close with Brother Hei.”

“I don’t care.”

“The problem is you…”

Ye Zilin didn’t finish his sentence. A figure descended from above—Ming Sheng had jumped directly down from the stands.

The moment she saw Ming Sheng, Qiao Qingyu’s right hand lifted as if with a mind of its own, then, as if losing all reason, brought it down hard toward Ye Zilin’s shoulder. Amid Ye Zilin’s exaggerated cry of shock, another hand appeared from nowhere, firmly gripping the utility knife’s blade.

By the time Qiao Qingyu realized what had happened, the blood flowing from Ming Sheng’s hand had already stained the knife’s tip red.