In October, pattering autumn rain fell. When school let out, the rain had stopped.

Hua Ting shouldered her pink Snow White schoolbag and stood in front of Bei Yao’s desk, waiting to walk home together. Bei Yao felt uneasy inside. She waved her hand: “You all go home first. My stomach hurts—I need to use the bathroom.”

Hua Ting acknowledged this and went home with another little girl.

Bei Yao slowly went to the bathroom.

A fourth-grade little girl, wearing her bean-green colored clothing, her hair tied up high in a ponytail. She had no bangs, and her large eyes were bright as crystals.

Pei Chuan held onto the desk for support as he stood up. After everyone had left, he slowly walked out of the school by himself.

He carried a black schoolbag. Unlike his peers’ bags with cartoon battle heroes on them, his was simply plain black. Pei Chuan’s walking posture was a bit strange. He walked very slowly, just like a snail climbing up a green branch—every bit took effort.

Bei Yao quietly peeked out her small head. She shouldered her own schoolbag and jogged to catch up.

When she reached his side, this boy who was almost ten years old keenly turned his head.

She hesitantly stopped in her tracks, looking at him through the cold post-rain air of October.

Pei Chuan’s gaze was indifferent. Bei Yao quickly lowered her head and walked past him.

After she had walked some distance, Pei Chuan continued forward.

This road home still wasn’t repaired. They could only take the small road. The small road was farther—a full thirty minutes’ walk. Pei Chuan needed even longer. He had only recently gotten his prosthetics, and where his residual limbs contacted them would ache faintly after walking for a while. Pei Chuan could only walk for a bit, then rest for a bit.

He didn’t like people he knew seeing him struggling so hard to walk home, so he would often wait until all his classmates had left before getting up and slowly going home.

Pei Chuan watched the silhouette of the girl ahead disappear from view, and imperceptibly, a trace of annoyance grew in his heart.

What did she mean? Did she deliberately stay late to watch him make a fool of himself? Was she that curious about how a cripple walked?

A sparrow hopped onto a branch. Her youthful, adorable silhouette grew more and more distant.

~

Sixth-grader Ding Wenxiang was playing with sand.

The road still wasn’t repaired. The main road was piled with cement and river sand. He, together with three sixth-grade boys, was playing with the sand.

He was the leader of this group, with poor grades. His mom said if he didn’t work harder, she wouldn’t even let him attend middle school.

Ding Wenxiang knew his mother was just trying to scare him, but his life was already ruined anyway, so he didn’t care whether he continued studying or not. He heard Brother Qiang say that working could also earn quite a bit of money.

Sand leaked through his fingers. On his right hand, he had no ring finger or pinky finger.

This was because when he was small, his grandmother in the countryside hadn’t watched him carefully, and they’d been severed by a fodder-cutting guillotine.

Twelve-year-old Ding Wenxiang was much taller than the other three boys. Someone pushed down a sand wall and brought up some fresh gossip: “Ding Wenxiang, do you know there’s a boy with no legs in fourth grade at our school?”

Of course Ding Wenxiang knew. He clapped his hands: “I’ve seen him—in a wheelchair.”

“Right, but I heard a couple days ago that he has legs again and can walk now.”

Ding Wenxiang’s eyes widened.

“Really, I’m not lying. He can walk now. Recently he’s been walking home. Do you think he installed a fake leg? How can a fake leg walk like a real leg?”

“A fake leg?” Ding Wenxiang looked at his own incomplete right hand. “I have to go see this.”

He immediately stopped piling sand. A sixth-grade boy said: “I know—after school he takes that small road. He walks very slowly, like a turtle crawling. I’ll take you guys there.”

Ding Wenxiang’s group bypassed the main road, schoolbags slung over their shoulders, rushing energetically toward the small road.

Pei Chuan walked very slowly but steadily, step by step. His pupils were pitch-black. He paused his steps, looking at the several ill-intentioned big boys before him.

He didn’t recognize them, so he paused briefly, then continued walking forward.

Ding Wenxiang stared at his legs without blinking, reaching out to grab Pei Chuan’s collar: “Kid, don’t walk away. Let me see your fake leg.”

Pei Chuan’s pupils were pitch-black. Without a word, he reached out to pry off that hand.

Ding Wenxiang had originally thought this seemingly weak cripple who was two years younger than him posed no threat. He hadn’t expected that hand to twist his left hand painfully. Ding Wenxiang was forced to let go, but this made him even angrier.

A twelve-year-old child had infinite destructive power and was especially concerned with saving face. Ding Wenxiang said: “Hold him down!”

Several children swarmed forward and pressed Pei Chuan to the ground.

“Get off!” Pei Chuan also became angry, but no matter how strong his arm strength was, he couldn’t withstand a group of young teenagers two or three years older than him.

The small road was full of mud. His prosthetics weren’t very skillful to begin with. After his center of gravity shifted, he was pressed to the ground, his cheek right next to the dirty muddy water. On the road surface that had just been rained on, the rank smell of earth drilled into his nostrils.

They held down his cheek and arms. Pei Chuan knew what they were going to do. The calm on his face disappeared, and he struggled like a small beast gone mad: “Let go of me! You let go of me!”

Ding Wenxiang’s hand still hurt. He kicked Pei Chuan and cursed like his mother did: “Little beast.”

Ding Wenxiang squatted down to untie Pei Chuan’s shoelaces. Pei Chuan’s shoelaces were very long. After winding around several times, they were tied outside his pant leg—he didn’t want to expose the abnormally colored prosthetic limb.

The shoelaces were untied. If they pulled up Pei Chuan’s pant leg again, inside would be the fake leg without the slightest warmth.

This was exactly during the after-school rush hour.

Third-graders and first and second-graders were playing and walking on the small road. Many people saw this scene, and then someone whispered: “That’s sixth-grader Ding Wenxiang.”

Ding Wenxiang, who was already very rough at school.

The children in twos and threes opened their eyes wide and watched. Not one person dared step forward.

Pei Chuan’s fingers dug into the muddy water. For the first time, he had the thought of wanting everyone to die. If they died, if they all died, how wonderful that would be!

The shoelace on Pei Chuan’s right leg was untied. Ding Wenxiang whistled tunelessly. He went to pull up the boy’s pant leg.

His back hurt fiercely. Ding Wenxiang screamed. He turned his head viciously.

A little girl in a green jacket, holding a branch as thick as three fingers, hit his back again.

Bei Yao was terrified. In her limited memory, in two lifetimes, she had never been in a fight.

Ding Wenxiang glared at her. Her hands were shaking, yet she still gripped the branch tightly and stood in front of Pei Chuan.

“You let him go.” She went to hit each of those hands holding Pei Chuan down.

The sixth-grade children cried out in pain. Someone kicked Bei Yao.

She cried too.

It hurt so much. Bei Yao bit her lip but still wouldn’t let go of that branch.

Half of Pei Chuan’s refined face was in the muddy water. He lifted his head and looked at all this with indifference.

This was the first time he’d seen Bei Yao cry. While crying, she wielded the thick branch, hitting those people. She said: “I’m going to tell our Teacher Cai, and I’m going to tell my uncle. My uncle is a police officer—he’ll arrest you all!”

Ding Wenxiang cursed loudly, then said: “If it weren’t for you being a girl, I’d kill you today!” He turned his head to look at his classmates who had been frightened by the word ‘police.’ “Let’s go! What are you still standing there for!”

They all left.

Those lower-grade children who hadn’t dared come over also went home, looking back every three steps.

Only after there was no one left on the small road did Bei Yao sob and cry out loud.

She remembered this scene.

An identical memory, except in her previous life she had been one of those lower-grade children. Pei Chuan’s pant leg had ultimately been pulled up, and she had seen the prosthetic limb that wasn’t quite the same as a normal leg and was cold.

All the children had shown timidity and curiosity. She had been pulled back a step by her good friend, who said: “That fake leg is so scary.”

He had been in the mud, his pitch-black eyes looking at her, slowly sinking into silence.

After that, Bei Yao never saw Pei Chuan wear prosthetics again. He returned to the wheelchair.

In this lifetime, she had run back.

Bei Yao, holding a very heavy branch, stepped across several years of time. She squatted beside him, tears streaming down her fair, soft cheeks.

“Wuwuwu…”

Pei Chuan’s lifeless pupils moved, turning to look at her.

She dropped the branch, her body trembling. She seemed even more afraid than he was. Pei Chuan frowned and supported his body with his arms to sit up.

His clothes were soaked with muddy water. His original decency and cleanliness were completely gone.

Pei Chuan showed no expression. Gritting his teeth, he stood up from the ground.

The wild grass by the roadside had cut the skin of his palm.

He lowered his head. Bei Yao’s almond eyes brimmed with tears. She sobbed, at a loss. A little girl like this might only fight like this once in her entire life.

Pei Chuan slowly walked forward.

After walking many steps, he couldn’t help but turn his head. She was still squatting there.

“Bei Yao.” He called her name for the first time, saying calmly, “Go home.”

Bei Yao turned her head. Her large eyes were red, like a little rabbit. She sobbed: “Oh.”

Then she tried hard to stand up shakily and followed behind him.

The long-delayed setting sun showed half its face. He didn’t comfort her, nor did he wipe her tears. He listened to her cry the entire way.

“Pei Chuan, I’m a little scared.”

“Mm.”

“Will I be publicly criticized?”

“…No.”

“I’m hurting a bit.”

“Mm.”

Her soft little hand wiped her eyes: “Tomorrow, let’s walk home together, okay?”

He was silent for a long time: “Okay.”

This year, Bei Yao still didn’t know that this indifferent boy beside her would, in the future, return her childhood tolerance and warmth as a lifetime of doting and obsession, repaying it many times over.

Autumn leaves spiraled down and fell.

Bei Yao’s soft, long hair gradually grew longer, from shoulder-length at first to slowly past her shoulder blades. The ends of her hair were slightly yellow with a faint curl, hanging in front of her chest. Because her hair was finer than other little girls’, it was especially soft.

Children’s voices don’t distinguish between male and female. Bei Yao’s childish voice, however, hadn’t truly faded yet.

From fourth grade to sixth grade, Pei Chuan used prosthetics for school. At first, he moved slowly, but by the end, he could walk as fast as a normal teenager. During winter and summer vacations, he no longer stayed at home. He put on boxing gloves and started learning boxing.

In the first month of sixth grade, they heard that Ding Wenxiang, who had advanced to eighth grade, had been beaten into the hospital by a group of street thugs.

This matter didn’t cause the slightest ripple. As gossip over tea and meals, it was talked about for two days, then forgotten in the teenagers’ memories.

In April of the second semester of sixth grade, Teacher Cai suddenly announced: “The pear blossoms and peach blossoms have all bloomed. Our class is going on a spring outing tomorrow.”

This year, activities like spring outings hadn’t been banned yet.

The classroom was stunned for a moment, then suddenly burst into continuous cheers.