Fang Zhuo hadn’t had dinner yet. She had no appetite, so she just grabbed a piece of bread from the convenience store and went back to the classroom.
The students, who’d been making a racket, all quieted down at the sight of her.
Shen Musi turned around and asked, “Are you okay?”
Fang Zhuo shook her head.
Shen Musi hesitated for a long while, then, holding a bottle of eight-treasure congee, carefully set it down at the corner of Fang Zhuo’s desk. Seeing her bent over her homework, he used a finger to nudge it inch by inch, pushing it forward until it entered Fang Zhuo’s line of sight.
But when Fang Zhuo’s gaze swept over toward him, he still lost his nerve, mumbling, “Th-this is for you. It’s about to expire.”
Even his excuse was so similar to before.
Fang Zhuo’s expression turned, deadpan, toward her desk-mate.
Yan Lie, looking like an entirely innocent bystander, shrugged. “No need to consult me on this. He’s grown up now — I allow him to dispose of his own property as he sees fit.”
Shen Musi exploded, “Pah! All you know how to do is take advantage of me!”
Fang Zhuo reached out and pushed the bottle back. “Thanks, but the reason I fainted wasn’t because I couldn’t afford food.”
Shen Musi didn’t dare argue, just gave a sheepish “oh.”
Fang Zhuo glanced down at her problem set, then looked up again to add, “My eating habits may genuinely be a bit irregular, but I think the bigger reason was lack of sleep and a tired brain.” There were simply too many things weighing on that small head of hers.
Fang Zhuo: “I’m fine now, though. Thanks for your concern.”
Shen Musi’s expression was a vivid illustration of “whatever you say.” After hearing Fang Zhuo’s string of made-up reasoning, he instinctively glanced over at Yan Lie’s face for a cue. Yan Lie just gave a faint smile, and Shen Musi, taking the hint, obediently took the congee back.
Not long after, a private message from a friend showed up on Yan Lie’s social media.
Mousse Cake: Why won’t she take it? She’s starving and everything.
Lielie: Good kids don’t like accepting things from people for nothing. If you give her something, she’ll just feel obligated to pay you back. Don’t give her anything from now on.
Mousse Cake: Why not? It’s not like I was being condescending about it!
Mousse Cake: I’m not happy hearing you say that. Is there anyone in our class friendlier than me?
Mousse Cake: Well?! Why aren’t you saying anything?!
Yan Lie laughed a little, put his phone away, and gave Shen Musi’s stool a light kick with his foot, signaling him to get back to studying instead of fooling around all day.
A bit later, the homeroom teacher called Fang Zhuo to her office to ask about her health.
Since the infirmary’s equipment was too basic to find anything definite, the homeroom teacher, combining that with what classmates had told her, concluded it was likely a case of too much stress plus poor nutrition. She gave a few words of advice and some comforting reassurances, and seeing Fang Zhuo’s calm, docile response, soon let her go back to class.
·
Registration for sports day had begun these past couple of days; the PE committee member and a few other class officers were rallying their classmates to sign up enthusiastically.
Fang Zhuo’s fainting from the chore work had left too strong an impression on them, and combined with her thin frame, which already looked underfed, none of them dared to bother her about it — they figured they’d just slot her into the cheerleading squad when the time came, so she could take the chance to rest.
Fang Zhuo herself wasn’t particularly enthusiastic, either — she’d never had much interest in this kind of group activity.
At noon, on her way back from the cafeteria, just as she was about to find a quiet spot to study vocabulary, the homeroom teacher called out to her.
The teacher was at the doorway, waving her over. “Fang Zhuo, I’ve been looking for you forever. The gate guard says someone from your family is here looking for you — go check it out quickly.”
Fang Zhuo’s first thought was that her homeroom teacher had summoned a parent, and that the person waiting was Fang Yiming. But the thought was dismissed the moment it surfaced.
Fang Yiming would never bother with something so time-consuming. He almost certainly wouldn’t come; and even if he did, he’d go straight in through the school gates and leave the instant he couldn’t find her.
But she had no other family, either.
Fang Zhuo went to the back of the classroom and poured herself a cup of water, drinking it slowly before finally getting up to go see.
These past two days had been sunny without exception; the temperature, which had begun to drop, had shot back up, as though early autumn had been swept back into the height of summer.
Fang Zhuo walked slowly to the guardhouse and peered in through the window — there was no one inside but the security guard.
She explained to the duty guard why she’d come, and he pulled out a red bag from under the table, calling out loudly, “There you are, finally! Your stuff’s about to get cold!”
Fang Zhuo froze for a moment, then untied the knot on the plastic bag and found two lunchboxes inside.
Baffled, she’d thought someone might have ordered her takeout. Just as she pulled out the lunchboxes, the guard added regretfully, “He waited here a long while, but he just left a moment ago. He left a number for you.”
He handed over a piece of white paper, torn off unevenly, with the words “Happy Birthday, Zhuozhuo” written in black ink right in the center.
Below that was a line with a phone number.
Fang Zhuo had seen this handwriting not long before, so she still recognized it. But it was precisely because she recognized it that she was struck with such bewilderment.
Her head buzzed; she suddenly found herself unable to think straight, images of Ye Yuncheng’s labored, struggling figure flashing through her mind, growing clearer and clearer. Distracted, she asked, “Who delivered this? Is he… is he having trouble walking?”
The guard rambled on, “Yeah! I told him to go in and find you, but he was worried it’d cause some kind of trouble if your classmates saw him, so he sat by the road and waited instead. It’s hot out, and he waited half an hour with no sign of you, so he finally left.”
Suddenly the lunchboxes in her hands felt unbearably heavy, and her chest tightened so she could hardly breathe. She gripped the piece of white paper tightly in her fist. “Can I go out and take a look?”
“He really has already gone…” The guard, watching her expression, couldn’t bring himself to refuse outright, and softened his tone. “Well, you can take a look right at the school gate, but don’t go far.”
Fang Zhuo stepped outside the school gate and looked both ways along the empty street, but found no trace of anyone having waited there.
The sun beat down from ahead, casting shadows behind the high wall; there was no building outside the school gate that could offer shade. She could easily imagine Ye Yuncheng waiting there by the roadside just like this, sweating in the heat, only to leave disappointed in the end.
Fang Zhuo walked back with a tangle of mixed feelings, distractedly thanking the guard, and carried the lunchboxes back to the classroom.
Lunch break was almost over; Yan Lie, having finished the morning’s test paper, was resting with his head down on the desk. Sensing Fang Zhuo’s return, he opened one eye to look her over, and seeing she looked troubled, sat himself up.
He observed her quietly for a moment, then pointed at the pink-and-white lunchboxes on her desk. “Where’d you order this from? You haven’t had lunch yet?”
Fang Zhuo seemed to only just snap out of it; she raised her hand, pulling out the paper, now nearly soaked through with sweat, and turned to ask him, “Can I borrow your phone?”
“Sure.” Yan Lie readily pulled out his phone and handed it to her. “Password’s my mom’s birthday.”
A small twitch crossed Fang Zhuo’s brow as she, oddly enough, found herself somehow connecting with his train of thought. She tried entering “1001.”
It unlocked successfully.
Well, would you look at that.
What a patriotic young man.
She took the phone to the storage room beside the restrooms, made sure no teachers were nearby, and dialed the number on the paper, checking it carefully.
The line rang and rang, but no one picked up.
Fang Zhuo guessed Ye Yuncheng was probably on his way home now. Taking the bus wasn’t easy for him to begin with — the transfer alone required walking over twenty minutes, and the distance from the village entrance back home wasn’t short, either. She didn’t know if he’d run into any trouble.
A jumble of worries scattered through her thoughts. After the call automatically disconnected, Fang Zhuo dialed again, almost mechanically.
This time the call was answered quickly.
“Hello.”
The moment the clear, bright voice came through, Fang Zhuo felt as if her whole body had been given a jolt — the tangled mess of worries that had been knotted together like thread instantly cleared away, and along with it went whatever she’d meant to say.
The person on the other end waited patiently for a while without speaking, which let Fang Zhuo pick up on the noisy advertisement playing in the background — confirming he was on a bus right now.
Out of the long silence, Ye Yuncheng guessed who it was, covering the phone as he asked, “Fang Zhuo?”
“It’s me.” Fang Zhuo explained stiffly, “I just got back to the classroom. By the time I went to the school gate, you’d already left.”
Even through the phone, Ye Yuncheng’s voice sounded very gentle, low and unhurried, like a timely summer breeze. “Oh, right. I figured it might not be convenient for you — third-year students are pretty busy.”
“Actually, it wasn’t really inconvenient,” Fang Zhuo said. “Lunch break is free time.”
Ye Yuncheng said, “Good.”
Fang Zhuo took a breath.
Ye Yuncheng spoke again, with a touch of deliberate cheer, “Happy birthday. You’ve grown up so quickly — I’ve barely gotten to see you at all.”
Fang Zhuo paused, then said, “…Thank you.”
She found, oddly, that she couldn’t quite recall who had last said that to her. Perhaps no one ever had. So when she heard this unfamiliar blessing, she went momentarily blank, not noticing that anything felt off.
She had once looked forward immensely to the moment she’d become an adult, believing adults were simply born with strength and courage, able to reclaim all the brashness and willfulness she’d had to swallow down.
The older she grew, the more she understood that an adult’s armor was built out of nothing but wounds and lessons learned, and that whatever you wanted, you had to get for yourself. Gradually, she’d forgotten about that hope entirely.
When she’d actually crossed the threshold into adulthood, she had to admit there’d been some faint stirring of feeling — but that stirring was no more than a single drop falling onto the surface of a calm lake. Her world hadn’t changed much because of it.
It didn’t even compare to this one sentence from Ye Yuncheng.
Ye Yuncheng went on, “Actually, your birthday isn’t until next week, but isn’t Mid-Autumn Festival next week too? I figured you’d probably go home then. Since I wouldn’t have much chance to get you a cake otherwise, I brought it early.”
Fang Zhuo said, “I’m not going home.”
“Oh…?” Ye Yuncheng asked carefully. “Do you get time off for the Mid-Autumn Festival, then?”
Caught up a little in the sudden eagerness in his voice, Fang Zhuo said, “I think we get three or four days off.”
“Are you staying at school, then? Everyone goes home over the break, won’t it be lonely? Why don’t you leave school too?” Ye Yuncheng said it all in one breath. “Why don’t you come stay at your uncle’s place?”
Having said it, Ye Yuncheng let out a breath as though a weight had lifted off him, the happiness in his voice growing genuine, and he urged warmly, “Come stay at your uncle’s. The house here is a bit old, but it’s big, with lots of empty rooms.”
Fang Zhuo said, “Wouldn’t that be intruding?”
“Not at all, not at all, just come!” Ye Yuncheng said with a laugh. “I cleaned up a room yesterday. You know there’s a big yard behind the house? I cleared out half of it, and now it’s empty — I don’t even know what to do with it. Do you have any ideas?”
Fang Zhuo: “Let me think about it.”
“Take your time, think it over slowly. Good, good.” Ye Yuncheng said, somewhat incoherently, “Oh, right! There’s seafood in the lunchbox — you should eat it soon, it won’t keep long. There’s fruit too.”
Fang Zhuo replied calmly, “All right.”
Ye Yuncheng had just gotten started, with so much more he wanted to say, but before he could even sort it all out, he heard the sound of a bell ringing in the background and immediately sobered.
He asked, “Did the bell just ring? Are classes starting?”
Fang Zhuo: “Lunch break’s over. The class officers will be taking roll.”
Ye Yuncheng said immediately, “Then hurry back.”
“Okay.”
Just before hanging up, Ye Yuncheng still couldn’t resist adding one more thing, “Remember to come when you’re off, okay?”
Back in the classroom, Fang Zhuo handed the phone back to Yan Lie. Feeling overheated, she pulled out a tissue and wiped away some sweat.
Yan Lie stared at her face for a moment, then said, for no apparent reason, “Blooming, are we?”
Fang Zhuo, not understanding, said, “Huh?”
“Nothing.” Yan Lie smiled. “It’s rare to see you this happy.”
Fang Zhuo didn’t think she’d shown any particular happiness; she touched the corner of her mouth and found she wasn’t even smiling. She had no idea where Yan Lie had gotten that idea.
Tapping at his phone, Yan Lie asked, “Who’d you call just now?”
Fang Zhuo said, “My uncle.”
“So it was your uncle!”
Yan Lie saved the number to his contacts. Out of the corner of her eye, Fang Zhuo saw that the name he typed in was simply “Uncle.” She blinked in confusion, thinking — isn’t he my uncle?