◎Little Flower◎

Wednesday afternoon’s second period was PE class. After the whole class finished warm-ups and jogged two laps around the track, the teacher announced free activities.

The autumn tiger was rampant, the scorching sun still baking the rubber track until it was scalding hot. The girls were exhausted and panting, hands on their hips, gathering in groups of three or five to find shady spots to rest.

Chun Zao followed several classmates to sit by the flower bed, smoothing away the sweat-dampened hair strands at her temples.

Tong Yue sat beside her, gulping down half a bottle of mineral water, then using the rest to wash her face.

“You’re being way too wasteful,” Ding Ruowei dodged the water droplets that nearly splashed onto her shoes.

Tong Yue pulled out a tissue and waved it at her: “Did I spend your money?”

The two girls began bickering.

Chun Zao smiled faintly and pulled out the vocabulary book from her pants pocket to flip through it.

Tong Yue and Ding Ruowei both noticed simultaneously and cried “help” in unison.

Chun Zao looked at them both, puzzledly, and continued silently reciting vocabulary, maximizing her use of fragmented time.

After all, she was used to it. Tong Yue made no judgment, just cast her gaze far toward the basketball court by the playground. Inside the mesh fence, the boys were fearlessly sweating under the heat, tirelessly squandering their energy, with occasional cheers or ape-like, primitive roars.

Tong Yue swayed her empty bottle: “Boys aren’t afraid of getting tanned.”

Ding Ruowei looked over as well.

After gazing for a while, she suddenly pointed somewhere and asked: “Look, isn’t that Tan Xiao from our class?”

Tong Yue squinted and confirmed: “It is. Is he that close with the science class boys? Playing ball together.”

As fellow social warriors, Tong Yue inexplicably felt competitive and couldn’t help but snort: “I haven’t even gotten tight with the science class boys.”

Ding Ruowei laughed twice: “If you went in there, you’d only get used as the ball.”

Tong Yue looked down at her small frame: “Can’t I stand by the court as a cheerleader? Besides, that class isn’t quality material. If it were Class 1, I’d already have set up a water-selling stall by the basketball court—no money required, just WeChat QR codes.”

“How ambitious.”

Catching the key phrase “Class 1,” Chun Zao emerged from her sea of vocabulary and quietly began paying attention.

Ding Ruowei focused on the jumping figures inside the fence: “But Tan Xiao does seem much more pleasing to the eye than before.”

“I always used to think he was sloppy. When didn’t he get scolded by the homeroom teacher before going to get a haircut?”

“Now with that buzz cut, he looks so much more refreshing.”

“He’s been chasing the class beauty from Class 4 recently,” Tong Yue said casually, “so he’s started peacocking and paying attention to his image.”

“He likes Lin Xinrui?” Ding Ruowei had the expression of someone choking on big gossip.

“You just found out?”

“I don’t pay attention to this stuff.”

“The loser boys in our class aren’t worth paying attention to anyway. It’s just that my information network is too powerful—it’s hard not to know even if I wanted to.”

Ding Ruowei collapsed laughing.

“Ah, the power of love,” Tong Yue sighed while pulling out a small round mirror to fix her hair: “When will I meet someone I like?”

Ding Ruowei demolished her: “Don’t you meet them every day? Falling for everyone you see.”

“What do you know!”

Chun Zao listened as if sitting on pins and needles, completely projecting herself into the situation.

Peacocking… Did her current state count?—Recently, her frequency of looking in mirrors had indeed doubled compared to before. Every morning before leaving her room, she would first carefully comb her hair. The hair conditioner and face wash she occasionally skipped out of laziness were now never missed…

The scrunchie currently holding her ponytail, unprecedented in size, was the most naked evidence of her crime.

Chun Zao lowered her head, her cheeks slightly warming.

So this was what liking someone felt like?

She liked… Yuan Ye?

No way.

After PE class, using the bathroom as an excuse, Chun Zao skipped the fixed small group’s convenience store date and went to the restroom.

Standing in the stall, she carefully removed the scrunchie from her head, finally sighing with relief as if lifting a heavy burden.

Just as she was about to push the door open, Chun Zao stepped back again.

Wouldn’t this be too… trying to cover up?

She tied it back up. Going back and forth like this, the heat rising from her back rivaled just having finished running 800 meters in class, and so did her heartbeat.

She walked out of the bathroom with feigned composure.

Perhaps it proved some “Murphy’s Law”—the more you try to avoid someone or something, the more unavoidable they become. For the first time since school started, she encountered Yuan Ye alone in the hallway.

Rather than saying she encountered him, it was more accurate to say she saw him first.

She could always spot him at first glance.

The boy was walking out with a classmate, him in front, another male student behind. Perhaps they had just finished talking, as he turned his head back with a smile not yet completely faded. He was truly conspicuous, even dazzling—the school uniform fabric seemed three shades whiter on him than on others.

Chun Zao’s steps faltered slightly.

He seemed to have seen her…

Chun Zao immediately cast her gaze elsewhere, to the low shrubs in the empty flower bed.

She began criticizing her deliberateness.

But she suddenly couldn’t face him directly, couldn’t greet him as naturally and casually as before, and was even ashamed to look into his distinct black and white eyes.

Fortunately, Tong Yue and Ding Ruowei appeared in her field of vision, each holding an ice cream cone.

Like grabbing a floating log, she ran over urgently yet nonchalantly, linking arms with Tong Yue: “Hey, you two ate ice cream without bringing me along.”

“You said you were going to the bathroom yourself…”

“Exactly… Fine, let me have a lick.”

“Ahh—”

Thank heavens.

She could “naturally” turn a blind eye, “naturally” brush past him, “naturally” conceal all the feelings that were about to burst forth.

Only after returning to her seat could she catch her breath. Chun Zao pulled out her notebook to fan herself, but the cooling effect wasn’t obvious, so she grabbed her deskmate’s small flower-shaped handheld fan, turned it to maximum, and blew air fiercely at her face.

But the boy’s momentary glance still felt like a drop of caramel on hot coals, seeping onto her ear tips.

Then, threading through her blood vessels, permeating her entire body bit by bit.

The temperature simply wouldn’t drop, and it had the momentum of a prairie fire.

Chun Zao desperately buried her face in her arms.

An unprecedented tidal effect surged within her body, the warm seawater swaying and swaying endlessly.

—

This semester’s National Day is connected with the Mid-Autumn Festival. Except for the seniors, the lower grades at Yi Middle School strictly followed national legal holiday regulations and had eight days off.

Chun Zao’s holiday arrangements were the same as previous years—going home with her mother, then diving into the boundless sea of learning, plus taking one day to go shopping with Tong Yue for a change of air.

After packing two sets of clean clothes and thoroughly watering the flowers and plants on the windowsill, Chun Zao carried her luggage bag out of her room.

Chun Chuzhen was still checking if anything had been forgotten, so she went to change shoes first.

After tying her canvas shoe laces tight, Chun Zao straightened up and glanced at Yuan Ye’s tightly closed door.

He wasn’t home.

It was also fortunate he wasn’t home, sparing her the goodbye process. After all, even “facing him” had become ten thousand times more difficult for her current state.

“Has Little Yuan already gone home?” Chun Chuzhen was also somewhat curious before leaving.

Chun Zao lowered her eyelashes: “How would I know?”

Since she realized she “harbored ill intentions” toward Yuan Ye, she had stopped actively greeting him, wouldn’t take detours through the hallway, and during exercises would deliberately avoid angles where he was present. She only then realized this wasn’t a natural observation but voyeurism. She was a thief who achieved spiritual satisfaction by stealing glimpses of his back—shameful enough.

Speaking alone…

Of course, there was none of that anymore.

Lying on her bed at home, Chun Zao stared blankly at their chat records. With the living room wifi protecting her, playing on her phone no longer required sneaking around. As long as she didn’t act up in front of Chun Chuzhen, everything was negotiable.

On National Day, Chun Chuzhen prepared a table full of good food.

Sister Chun Chang rarely returned home for the holidays. The glamorous, polished urban woman took a shower upon arriving home and transformed back into an unkempt homebody.

Still sucking on a lollipop with hands in pockets, swaggering around everywhere.

When patrolling to Chun Zao’s bedroom, she silently hid by the door, secretly watching her sister’s gloomy face for a while, until the other party noticed her presence and stiffened all over.

Chun Zao decisively turned to face away from her.

Chun Chang felt playful: “Mom—Chun Zao is playing—”

Chun Zao sat up abruptly: “What are you doing?”

Chun Chang leaned against the door frame: “You’ve got some nerve. Not welcoming me home is one thing, but ignoring me when you see me.”

Chun Zao turned off her phone: “Preventing you from making small talk again.”

“What’s wrong with caring about my little sister?” Chun Chang sat on her bed: “Why are you lying there half-dead?”

Chun Zao said, “Tired from studying.”

Chun Chang scoffed: “If you’re tired, close your eyes and rest. What’s the point of staring at your phone?”

Chun Zao glared at her: “Are you possessed by Chun Chuzhen?”

Chun Chang laughed heartily.

After having her fun, she mysteriously pulled something from her left pajama pocket and handed it to Chun Zao.

A small box with pure white curved edges, simple and compact.

Chun Zao dubiously accepted it. When she saw the logo on top, her eyes lit up. Opening the lid, it was indeed the wireless noise-canceling earphones she’d been dreaming of.

Suppressing the urge to scream, Chun Zao looked at her sister with delight.

Chun Chang’s smile widened at her reaction: “The packaging box was a bit big, and I was afraid Mom would see it and nag, so I removed it in advance. But I swear it’s not second-hand. I only tried it once to see how it worked, still 9.9999% new.”

She then pulled out the instruction manual from her left pocket and tossed it to her: “Figure it out yourself.”

“How long have you been using that twenty-yuan broken earphone of yours?” Chun Chang patted her head then let go, as if finally removing some troublesome matter from her mind: “I really couldn’t stand watching it anymore.”

“What’s wrong with good quality?” Chun Zao mumbled.

After being speechless for quite a while, she asked her sister with tears in her eyes: “Was it expensive?”

Chun Chang held up four fingers, then shrugged indifferently: “Just one-tenth of my monthly salary.”

Chun Zao was still stunned: “If Ms. Chun finds out, she’ll beat you up.”

“You won’t escape either,” Chun Chang raised her fist to scare her: “So be careful. Remember to turn on ambient sound when Chun Chuzhen isn’t sleeping. You think I’m not afraid of getting beaten together?”

“Oh oh oh, I know!” Chun Zao was overjoyed, so happy she lost control and couldn’t help but speak in a cutesy Taiwanese accent.

Chun Chang rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue with a “yue” sound, then fell backward to the foot of her sister’s bed, playing dead. Chun Zao went to tickle her.

The sisters’ frolicking ended with Chun Chuzhen’s booming dinner call.

—

That night, seventeen-year-old Chun Zao finally experienced firsthand the vast difference between thousand-yuan and ten-yuan earphones. She selected all her favorite songs and played them on repeat single-track loop until nearly 1 AM, when she finally couldn’t keep her eyelids open and slipped into sweet dreams filled with musical notes.

Sister Chun Chang didn’t stay home long. After starting university, she began rebelling against authority and officially let herself fly free. Despite attending a prestigious local university, she rarely came home, and even when she did return, it was like a gust of wind. Her rebellious phase seemed to have started late, carrying the violence and madness of long suppression. Naturally, she fell from being Mom’s study role model to a negative example, even listed with three crimes of unfilial behavior: not taking graduate exams, not taking civil service exams, and not dating.

Chun Zao quite understood this and continued to view her sister as “a model for our generation.”

No one liked being controlled and nagged by Chun Chuzhen.

Neither did she.

Like protagonists in movies:

Someday, she too would break through the tedious channels of order.

Someday, she too would go to the sea to embrace lightning and sudden rain.

By the third day of vacation, Chun Zao had efficiently completed all her homework. Before bed, she fondly played with her still-naked compact earphone case, thinking about asking Tong Yue out tomorrow to buy it some accessories—she couldn’t mistreat her precious.

She went on QQ to find her.

The two girls hit it off immediately.

Chun Zao specifically instructed: Around 3 PM, phone messages as the signal—Ms. Chun might go play mahjong around that time.

The prediction was completely accurate. With the child resting, Chun Chuzhen also had time to relax. Sure enough, while washing dishes at noon, she was already calling friends on WeChat voice to organize a game, planning to battle it out at the mahjong parlor by the residential complex entrance.

Dad, who was on vacation at home, was also forced to sacrifice his afternoon nap and was dragged by his wife to make up the numbers.

Chun Zao put on the yellow and white checkered knee-length dress her sister had newly bought for her, packed her key chain and coin purse into her canvas bag, and, of course, most importantly, her beloved new earphones.

After checking the home’s water and electricity, she quietly snuck out.

At the agreed subway entrance, both girls arrived almost simultaneously and saw each other.

Chun Zao’s eyes lit up as she ran over, lavishing praise: “JK girl, you look so pretty today!”

“Your dress looks so pretty, too!” Tong Yue took her hands and spun in circles.

Chun Zao looked at her carefully: “Your makeup is also so pretty, all sparkly.”

“Right? I feel like even my eye boogers are glowing. I also challenged fishtail and fairy lashes today, but I’m a bit clumsy—is the crookedness obvious? Help me check.”

“You’re lying, I can’t tell you’re clumsy at all.”

The two girls in dresses, like two tender little flowers floating on water, walked hand in hand, swaying beneath the gray, cold concrete jungle.

Stopping at the earphone case section of the retail store, Chun Zao fell into choice paralysis, facing the wall full of cute styles. Tong Yue lingered by the trendy blind boxes nearby, grabbing and placing packaging boxes in the shopping basket while rubbing her hands like a fly, wishing for hidden figures.

After struggling for a long time, Chun Zao finally narrowed down and locked onto her targets, holding options A and B in each hand. She turned back to find Tong Yue, planning to ask for her help in choosing, but discovered the girl had vanished without a trace.

Guessing she must have unconsciously wandered to the cosmetics and perfume section, in the vast store, Chun Zao decided to stay put rather than play “you find me, I find you.”

She took out her phone from her pocket, photographed each earphone case, then opened QQ. Just as she was about to send them to Tong Yue for her opinion, she noticed a new message in her friends list.

Chun Zao’s breathing hitched.

It was Yuan Ye.

He had sent a photo of the double-petaled sunflowers she kept on her bedroom windowsill. When she left, they were still just buds, but now, in his picture, they had fully bloomed, their translucent pink petals glistening with dewdrops.

The shooting angle was clearly from his room’s window.

He said: The little flowers you’re growing seem to have all bloomed.

Just ten minutes ago.