◎Waiting for the Wind to Rise◎

On the same evening during the study hall break, Chun Zao did not see Yuan Ye anywhere on campus.

She walked as slowly as possible, searching in the corridors and by the windows for that familiar bright figure, but found no trace of him.

The comforting words “see you at school” from that morning had become an unfulfillable fantasy by nightfall, like a carrot dangling before her eyes as reality set in.

She went to the restroom, turned the faucet to maximum, cupped water in her hands, and splashed her face repeatedly, silently washing away the burning sensation around her eyes.

Tong Yue noticed her unusual state and rarely seen puffy eyes, rushing to her side as soon as school ended: “What’s wrong, Zao?”

Chun Zao shook her head: “Nothing.”

Tong Yue guessed: “Did that Yuan Ye kid anger you?”

Chun Zao’s pronunciation became heavier: “How could that be! He hasn’t done anything wrong.”

The boy’s name was like a tear duct switch—her nose instantly felt blocked by bitter olives, squeezing out sourness.

Just before parting ways with Tong Yue, she realized she couldn’t bear it alone and softly asked her friend: “Could you walk with me a little longer?”

Tong Yue nodded vigorously.

Walking to a dark, nearly deserted area, Chun Zao could no longer restrain herself. She pulled tissues from her pants pocket and roughly wiped her eyes: “Yuan Ye is moving away. My mom found out about us.”

“Ah?” Tong Yue’s eyebrows drooped in disbelief: “How could this happen?”

Chun Zao pressed her wet, red nose and spoke intermittently: “I feel terrible, Yueyue. But I don’t know who else I can tell. My phone was confiscated too, I can only talk to you…”

“It’s okay. Just tell me, say whatever you want.” Tong Yue also showed sadness, choking up as she hugged her and patted her back: “Things aren’t that bad; you still have me.”

“Yueyue…”

“Zaozao…”

Hearing the sobbing beside her ear getting worse, Chun Zao froze for a second, then held Tong Yue’s shoulders and pushed her away slightly.

As a result, the girl in front of her was crying like she was the tragic victim herself, crying even harder and more painfully than Chun Zao, her features scrunched together, tears and snot flowing.

Chun Zao sniffled, hesitating: “Um…”

“What?” Tong Yue blew out a snot bubble, looking down at the tissue in her hand: “Lend me the tissue.”

Chun Zao pulled out a clean tissue and handed it over: “Wipe yourself.”

Tong Yue took it and asked with concern: “What are you two planning to do next?”

Chun Zao took a deep breath and exhaled: “Just separate, study hard, and prepare for the college entrance exam.”

Tong Yue pressed her chest and swore: “Alright, we can only take a step back. But with me here, don’t worry—good sisters share happiness and hardship. If your love is dead, I absolutely won’t survive alone. I’ll break up with Lu Jingheng tonight.”

Chun Zao twitched the corner of her mouth: “That’s not necessary.”

Tong Yue declared earnestly, “To be honest, I want to focus on studying too. Otherwise, what if I can’t get into Beijing? Then we’d only see each other during winter and summer breaks.”

Hearing this, Chun Zao felt teary again.

So did Tong Yue. Looking at each other speechlessly for two seconds, the two emotionally rich girls hugged and cried together again.

Seeing Yuan Ye during morning exercises the next day, Chun Zao’s heart settled somewhat. The boy wore the same unchanging short-sleeved school uniform, and from a distance looked much the same, but Chun Zao just felt he was different. He no longer joked with classmates, acted casual and carefree, and rarely appeared in the hallways during breaks. He had changed from a wavy line or exclamation mark with ups and downs and emotions to a dash or ellipsis, appearing too calm and too silent.

Chun Zao was the same.

Except for getting water, submitting homework, or going to the restroom, Chun Zao hardly left the classroom, studying every minute and second.

Occasionally, when they encountered each other, even if just a side profile or back view, her heart felt corroded by weak sulfuric acid.

Making choices and bearing the consequences of those choices.

This was also their required course, though it came too early.

Chun Chuzhen somehow got an old second-hand electric scooter and began “tirelessly” picking her up and dropping her off at school, using saving time as an excuse. Chun Zao knew her intentions and was too lazy to resist. She didn’t want to suffocate or have stress reactions, but she wasn’t numbing herself either.

Chun Zao felt it was more like not caring, being indifferent, wondering how much worse things could get.

Even if the universe were endlessly dark, a spaceship with a set destination could always land on the planet it wanted to reach.

This process didn’t last long.

After about half a month, Chun Chuzhen again allowed her to go to and from school alone, using “the scooter broke down, and sitting all the time isn’t good for your spine” as an excuse.

At the same time, she learned from Tong Yue that Yuan Ye had moved back to the school dormitory. The teacher had specially arranged a male dormitory full of honor students who didn’t cause trouble.

Another sigh of relief.

Life and study continued at a moderate pace, just like the weather after entering October. The summer heat was completely gone, and after sunset, thick clouds condensed behind the window frames, gathering from all directions, making the entire campus seem wrapped in orange jelly.

Someone in class secretly took out their phone to photograph and record the rare autumn splendor in the twilight of their youth.

Chun Zao also raised her face from behind thick, tall books, gazing at the sky at this moment. She held her pen, gradually watching it darken, covered by the night curtain.

A single bright color remained at the edge of the sky, like the crimson afterglow in an overturned coal brazier.

Waiting for the wind to rise.

Flames would surely leap up again.

In mid-October, Yuan Ye was called to the office by his new homeroom teacher, Qi Sixian, to discuss how he was adapting to the dormitory this month.

The boy stood with his hands behind his back, nodding silently.

Qi Sixian continued: “I’ve only been teaching your class for less than two months, so I’m not very familiar with your personalities. But the other subject teachers who came up with your class told me you’re not as active as before. Are you feeling pressured now that you’re in senior year?”

Yuan Ye didn’t answer this question, only saying calmly: “Teacher, my grades won’t drop.”

“That’s not the point,” Qi Sixian said, completely choked up. Indeed, he was worried about Yuan Ye falling behind, but more worried that the child was hiding troubles and would eventually hurt himself internally, which wouldn’t be worth it: “If you have any troubles or difficulties, you can tell me. The teacher will try his best to help you solve them.”

“I don’t.” Yuan Ye said, “I need to go back to class to study. Thank you, teacher.”

Qi Sixian opened his mouth wordlessly, finally sighing almost inaudibly: “Alright, go back.”

Watching him leave the office, Qi Sixian showed his helpless confusion, meeting eyes with the English teacher across from him, who had been eavesdropping.

Yuan Ye’s changes had been reported by her.

The middle-aged man sipped his tea: “Has he always been like this?”

The English teacher replied: “Yes, but also no. Before, he wasn’t exactly respectful to us, but he wasn’t this cold. Anyway, starting in September, he became like a different person.”

Qi Sixian put down his cup: “Why?”

The English teacher paused: “I heard he had a breakup.”

“Ah?” Qi Sixian frowned: “He was dating before?”

“Mm.”

Qi Sixian clicked his tongue, opening the spreadsheet on his computer to find Yuan Ye at the top: “But he didn’t drop in the last monthly exam.”

He admired himself: “Look at this math score, how could you deduct points? Grading his papers was so comfortable, I can only say… found a treasure.”

The English teacher spread her hands: “Then why did you give him such a boring gourd as a deskmate? Tu Wenwei was fine before—a sunny, cheerful big boy. Maybe Yuan Ye’s mood would be better.”

Hearing this, Qi Sixian was displeased: “Let me tell you, his current deskmate is very good. This kid was brought in by me, and I’ve watched his progress step by step. He has tenacity and drive. Having a grade number one next to him to motivate and stimulate him will make him better and better. Besides, studying attitudes can influence each other. I think Yuan Ye being steady and solid now is pretty good.”

“Don’t be too biased.”

Qi Sixian glared: “I’m not, don’t falsely accuse me. I treat everyone equally.”

Physical education classes in senior year were virtually non-existent. Although the schedule still showed two classes per week, they were occupied by other subjects. Having even one class free per week was considered a blessing.

Class Three had a rare PE class today.

Students rushed out of the classroom like a flock of doves that hadn’t been released for ages.

Chun Zao accompanied Tong Yue to the equipment room to get volleyballs. While standing with her back to the door, dropping volleyballs one by one into the wire basket, two chatting girls came in behind them. They were underclassmen—their faces still bright and vigorous, unlike these senior students who had been made lifeless by lack of sleep and coursework.

The four made eye contact, and Chun Zao and Tong Yue made room for them to get ping-pong paddles.

Those two girls continued talking: “Did you hear? That senior in senior year, the one who always gets first place and is handsome, he got dumped.”

“Ah? No way,” the other girl’s tone was like hearing about a waste of natural resources: “Even such a handsome guy can get dumped. His girlfriend is so cruel.”

Tong Yue’s mechanical ball-picking motion suddenly stopped.

Chun Zao’s bent back gradually stiffened.

“I heard it was a female honor student from Class Three in senior year.”

“Is she pretty?”

“I don’t know, but I think she’s amazing because that senior is handsome.”

The two became more animated:

“Why did they break up?”

“Senior year, I guess. Or maybe… the guy has some unknown flaws?”

“Probably not?”

“Didn’t they say they were living together? Maybe the guy doesn’t keep clean, so his girlfriend couldn’t stand it?”

“He doesn’t look like that type.”

“You don’t even know him personally, how would you know? Some people look proper on the outside but are so sloppy at home. There are way too many guys who pee on the toilet seat…”

The underclassmen’s wild imagination left Chun Zao speechless. Moving as if in fast-forward, she filled the basket and picked up one handle, using eye signals to suggest that Tong Yue, whose expression was hard to maintain and whose lips were pressed tight, could leave early.

The two left and right into the daylight. Tong Yue speed-walked several steps away, and once she confirmed they were out of sight and hearing range, she instantly burst into thunderous laughter, even making a series of monkey-like, donkey-like, strange sounds.

Chun Zao glanced at her: “…Is it that funny?”

Tong Yue held her stomach with one hand, coughing: “Don’t you want to laugh after hearing that?”

Chun Zao: “No.”

She also felt indignant about the wrongly rumored Yuan Ye, complaining about her friend: “Didn’t you use to stand up for people? Why didn’t you say anything today?”

Tong Yue’s mouth opened wide enough to swallow a whole tea egg: “They weren’t talking about you, why should I stand up? Besides, they were praising you, didn’t you hear?”

Then she shook her head smugly: “As for Yuan Ye—whatever, he’s not my ex anyway. Whoever cares can defend him. I didn’t see you speak up either.”

After speaking, she hummed dismissively, pretending to glance at Chun Zao with disdain.

Chun Zao was at a loss for words. After enduring for a moment, she pulled Tong Yue to a stop: “Help me with something.”

At the end of the month, one noon, Yuan Ye’s dormitory door was knocked. The boy’s desk and chair were by the door, and with his long frame, thinking it was another roommate returning from lunch, he didn’t ask carefully. He put down his pen and casually opened the door from inside.

Then he picked up his pen again to continue solving problems.

But there was no movement beside him. He turned his head and saw his deskmate Li Wu standing outside the door frame.

This new deskmate lived in the dormitory next door. Though they saw each other daily in class, because the other kept to himself and was taciturn, the two boys had shared the same space for over two months but barely knew each other.

So his arrival was inevitably surprising and puzzling.

Yuan Ye’s thick eyebrows furrowed slightly: “Is there something?”

Li Wu held out a white paper bag: “Deskmate, I met a girl downstairs who asked me to bring this up to you.”

Yuan Ye put down his pen and stood up: “Actually, you can call me Yuan Ye.”

The other: “Oh, Yuan Ye.”

“…”

Yuan Ye hesitated about whether to accept the item. Quite a few people had heard about his “breakup rumors.” Several close male friends had shown concern and comfort during breaks, and of course, many girls had given gifts in person or stuffed them in his desk, but he had refused or returned them all.

This was the first time something was brought to his dormitory.

While he was thinking, the person outside urged coldly: “Can you take it quickly?”

Yuan Ye thanked him and took it. Just as he wanted to ask what the girl looked like, Li Wu had already turned and left.

Yuan Ye placed the completely opaque paper bag on his desk and sat down with his legs apart.

Today was October 31st, a day that was both special and ordinary for him.

After his mother’s divorce, he never again publicly stated his real birth date and had lost all interest in celebrating birthdays.

All his social media profiles were filled with fake birthdays. When friends asked, he always went along with the default.

But when celebrating Chun Zao’s birthday at the beginning of the year, when the girl was curious, he had told her honestly without hiding anything.

That day, she had expressed regret while declaring emphatically: Ah, I missed it, but next year when your birthday comes, I’ll give you a gift.

He sat there, smelling the faint fragrance wafting from the bag, like some kind of floral scent. Yuan Ye stopped speculating and opened it. The lightweight paper bag contained only a thin hardcover picture book.

Yuan Ye’s expression froze.

He immediately pulled it out, and when his eyes touched the familiar colorful cover and title, the scene from their library date flashed in his mind. The boy’s chest sank deeply. Noticing the picture book’s pages weren’t completely flat, with something tucked inside, he opened it and discovered a sprig of osmanthus flowers, seemingly just picked from a branch. Small golden clusters nestled among the leaves, emitting a gentle, clear fragrance.

Yuan Ye checked the paper bag again—it was empty with no other items. He picked up the osmanthus sprig, stared at it for a long time until his surging emotions calmed slightly, then tucked it back between the pages and began rereading this childlike story.

The moment he opened the page after the title page, his fingers stopped. There were several lines written on it.

Familiar handwriting.

Familiar words.

Familiar phrases.

The familiar azure sky, points of light, plants and trees, the pounding heart, and wind rushing past his ears were completely unlocked in this moment, finally freezing into the girl’s bright, encouraging smile in the crowd:

“The youth who chases wind and pursues the sun never stops,

Fly forth, Yuan Ye,

Rush freely toward your finish line and distant horizons.”

This time, the gift’s owner no longer went to great lengths with secret schemes.

She left a signature that belonged only to herself: The little bird that never loses contact.

Author’s Note:

Many people said the “losing contact” in Chapter 27 was a flag.

It was a flag,

But it was a “never losing contact” flag.

“Zhe Gui (Plucking Osmanthus):

A Chinese term that referred to passing the imperial examinations in ancient times, now often borrowed to mean winning first place in competitions or exams.

In ancient China, winning the championship and passing the exams was compared to plucking osmanthus. The imperial examinations in ancient times were held in autumn, exactly when osmanthus flowers bloomed, so it became a metaphor for achieving the highest degree.”

——This is the little bird’s romance.