After Ban Sheng fixed her clothing, he walked straight out.
Lin Weixia waited a moment, then walked toward the terrace. Among the group of roughhousing, self-satisfied boys, she bent down and helped the girl who had fallen on the floor back to her feet.
As Lin Weixia helped the girl downstairs, the main hall of the villa blazed as bright as daylight. The A-students turned a blind eye, their expressions indifferent, still laughing and chatting as they clustered together playing games.
“What’s your name?” Lin Weixia asked in a gentle voice.
The girl lowered her head further, her fringe falling forward. She shook her head. There was nothing worth saying — and even if she said it, no one would remember.
Lin Weixia didn’t push her. She only heard the girl quietly blow her nose. By the time Lin Weixia helped her to the entrance, she was already worried about how to get her back down the mountain.
Li Shengran came running down, slightly out of breath: “I’ve asked the driver to take you home.”
The thick-fringed girl was after all Li Shengran’s deskmate — it was Li Shengran who had called her over to help, so she had to take responsibility.
Lin Weixia helped the thick-fringed girl into the car. The driver carried them all the way down the mountain. The night sea breeze was cold. The thick-fringed girl shrank in the back seat and involuntarily let out a sneeze. Without drawing any attention to it, Lin Weixia pressed a button and the car window slid up.
She hadn’t seen Liu Sijia at the banquet just now, so she sent a message saying she was leaving first.
When they reached the city center, Lin Weixia had the driver stop. She got out briefly to buy two cans of drinks. Back in the car, she took one from the white plastic bag and held it out to her.
The thick-fringed girl shook her head and refused.
The driver dropped the thick-fringed girl off first. Because the alley between the buildings was too narrow, the car stopped at the roadside. This part of the neighborhood was rather run-down. Downstairs, middle-aged men stripped to the waist were playing cards after getting off work, the card table occasionally erupting in boisterous laughter.
At the far edge, a phone repair shop glowed under a high white fluorescent light, its glow spilling outward and stretching two girls’ shadows long against the ground. Lin Weixia asked her: “Would you like me to walk you in?”
The thick-fringed girl shook her head, turned to go. Lin Weixia called after her, and from the white plastic bag drew out a small pouch of medicine to give to her, her long lashes lowered: “Your elbows and knees might have scrapes — put this on when you get home.”
“Thank you.”
Nanjiang’s October hadn’t truly entered autumn yet — only the early mornings and evenings were a little cooler; the daytime still blazed with fierce sunlight. Gao Hang was ready to stick his head in the refrigerator. On the television, fittingly, an old Hong Kong film was playing — All About Love.
Lin Weixia had been eating too many heated foods and her throat was getting irritated. Her aunt had brewed herbal cooling tea and was making her bring it to school every day. Whenever Lin Weixia sat there grimacing through her herbal tea, Liu Sijia would lean over and laugh at her.
Nanjiang’s herbal tea had certainly earned its notorious reputation — it was bitter enough to make the tip of your tongue curl.
But in truth, Liu Sijia only came over to look at Ban Sheng.
As long as that tall, straight figure was there, Liu Sijia’s voice would soften by three degrees — making herself seem not quite so aloof and imperious as outsiders claimed.
Lin Weixia never exposed her. She chose to quietly finish her herbal tea.
Shengao’s school garden festival arrived in October as well. Lin Weixia had only been passing through the teaching block opposite to fetch test papers when senior students shoved a thick stack of club recruitment flyers into her hands.
Lin Weixia set them casually on her desk and never looked at them again. After the between-class exercises period, Liu Sijia came over and sat on the edge of her desk.
Liu Sijia tilted her head and pulled out one flyer, asking: “Weixia, have you decided which club to join?”
The one in her hand was the basketball club’s recruitment flyer. Spread across the desk in a fan shape, the stack of flyers Lin Weixia had put there showed one partially under Liu Sijia’s weight — its text reading “Cello Club Recruiting.”
Lin Weixia’s eyelashes stirred.
Liu Sijia held that flyer up and read the recruitment requirements aloud. As far as she knew, Ning Chao was in this club too — someone like him, playing basketball was obviously just to look impressive.
“Weixia, come sign up for the basketball club with me, all right?” Liu Sijia urged.
Lin Weixia’s eyes still hadn’t left that cello club flyer. Her lips moved: “I—”
“Then it’s settled! I can see you don’t really have any hobbies aside from reading mystery novels,” Liu Sijia leaned forward, her beautiful eyes carrying a plea, “you promised before to help me pursue Ban Sheng — and he’s in the basketball club.”
Liu Sijia was like a red exclamation mark — fiery and direct. She never hid her intentions, and she knew people well enough to know that someone as proud as herself, the moment she showed any softness, no one could resist.
Lin Weixia was like a white comma — quietly understated, unable to refuse friends, often letting a reason circle around on the tip of her tongue several times without saying it aloud, her silence carrying with it a kind of soft-heartedness.
“All right.” Lin Weixia met Liu Sijia’s eyes and surrendered.
Before class started, Lin Weixia threw all the flyers into the bin. She hesitated over the cello club one, then in the end tucked it into her desk drawer.
One day, when she was taking out a book, the flyer fell to the floor. Ning Chao raised an eyebrow and asked: “You like the cello?”
“Not really.”
Liking required the subject “I” before it — but could “I” change everything?
After the banquet, Liu Sijia religiously woke up half an hour earlier each morning and placed a bottle of milk on Ban Sheng’s desk. Lin Weixia, puzzled, asked why she didn’t just give it to him directly after morning reading.
“You really have never liked anyone — how wonderful, to not have to feel the gain-and-loss anxiety I feel,” Liu Sijia said, her tone envious, then honest: “I’m afraid of being rejected.”
Not giving it to him directly — out of fear of being rejected.
Besides, she was too proud.
“Once I’ve been sending it for long enough, I’ll confess. At that point I’ll tell him all the milk was from me,” Liu Sijia said.
Liu Sijia stood in the corridor, spraying sunscreen mist over her face and neck in a full circle. Looking at Lin Weixia’s skin — the kind that never tanned no matter the sun, porcelain-white as milk — she pulled her inside, her voice full of envy:
“How are you so pale? I’m dying of jealousy — I’m on my third layer of SPF.”
Lin Weixia glanced at her own arm, unperturbed: “Seems about average to me.”
Lin Weixia entered through the back door and happened to see Ban Sheng entering at the same moment. He walked faster than her — the fabric of his black T-shirt barely grazed her shoulder, and a cool tobacco scent drifted past her nose.
He had been in the bathroom smoking.
Ban Sheng walked to the back row, lifted the chair in front of him, flipped it around, and lazily sat down. A head leaned close, grabbed his collar and sniffed — and in doing so exposed two prominent collarbones.
Qiu Minghua lowered his voice: “Boss, you were smoking in the bathroom — why didn’t you call me? Deputy Director Zhao didn’t catch you, right?”
Ban Sheng pulled his collar back with one hand and glanced up at him: “Back up when you talk.”
He had just washed his hands, pulled out a tissue, wiped them dry, and crumpled it into a ball which he tossed into the bin. He picked up the carton of milk on his desk and was opening the white straw.
Qiu Minghua said enviously: “Being handsome really does help. I want some too.”
“Go ahead, it’s yours if you want it.” Ban Sheng said carelessly, gesturing to another carton still on the desk.
“Actually, forget it — I’m afraid the girl delivering the milk would kill me.”
Lin Weixia was distributing test papers and heard this exchange in its entirety. From that banquet onward, the two of them had gone an entire week without exchanging a single word.
On Monday, Liu Sijia and Lin Weixia officially joined the basketball club. After joining, they had approximately two sessions per week — both on weekday afternoons after school — and the greatest perk of being a club member was being excused from the first period of evening self-study.
From then on, every time they went to basketball club, Lin Weixia and Liu Sijia would show up together — dribbling, practicing shots, then walking hand in hand to have dinner together at school.
Though Liu Sijia’s dinner was often just a piece of whole-grain bread, despite already being very slender.
Liu Sijia had joined the basketball club to pursue Ban Sheng — but a week passed and she hadn’t caught a glimpse of him.
On Wednesday afternoon after practice ended, Ning Chao was still out there doing flying layups non-stop, sweat dripping from both sides of his cropped head, drawing repeated glances from passing girls.
Liu Sijia silently rolled her eyes at his habit of using basketball to show off, crossed her arms, and asked: “Hey — do you know why Ban Sheng doesn’t come to basketball club?”
“Probably because he heard you were joining — decided he didn’t want to come,” Ning Chao replied, catching the ball and jumping up to shoot. The basketball dropped cleanly through the hoop and hit the floor with a loud thud.
“You brainless idiot.” Liu Sijia was furious enough to switch to her local dialect.
“Ning Chao, stop teasing her,” the boy beside him patted him on the shoulder and turned to explain: “Ban Sheng never comes to basketball club. He shows up maybe a few times per semester and doesn’t participate in group activities.”
When Liu Sijia told Lin Weixia this, Lin Weixia was writing homework. Liu Sijia leaned on her chin, her voice complainy: “I thought I could use this opportunity to get closer to him — but I can’t even catch sight of him.”
“I’ve decided — this Friday, I’ll ask him out directly. Weixia, can you deliver a note for me?”
Lin Weixia’s pen paused. She looked up: “He and I aren’t close.”
“I know — when you’re handing out homework, slip it to him,” Liu Sijia tugged at her sleeve, “I don’t want anyone else to know about this.”
Except you.
Liu Sijia was proud and radiant. Lin Weixia understood what she meant by those words — everyone fawned over her, so she had to act carefully, advance in secret, and even if she lost in the end, it wouldn’t be too humiliating.
“All right,” Lin Weixia agreed.
“Here — I’ve got everything ready,” Liu Sijia fished a light green envelope from her pocket, her red lips vivid as ever, “you’re the best. This weekend I’ll treat you to shaved ice.”
The next afternoon, everyone else had gone to physical education and hadn’t returned yet. Lin Weixia had come back ten minutes early and was just beginning to distribute the Chinese language homework. She discovered several love letters had again appeared inside her desk drawer. Without even looking at them, Lin Weixia stuffed them all into a white plastic bag.
When Lin Weixia reached the last position in the fourth row, she stopped. The desk before her was a little untidy — a map, a few pens, and a basketball under the desk. The wind blew in and the pages of a book flapped noisily.
Lin Weixia reached into her pocket and pulled out the green envelope, tucking it into the drawer. But the drawer was too full, and the envelope slid along the smooth spine of a book and fell out — landing on the floor with a soft slap.
Lin Weixia bent to pick it up, but just then a hot gust of wind rushed in through the window and lifted the envelope off the floor, spinning it in a small spiral to the other side.
She bent at the waist and chased after the envelope, trying to catch it. In an instant, a pair of white sports shoes appeared before her — smooth leg muscles, gaze traveling further upward — black athletic pants. Ban Sheng stood with both hands in his pockets, eyelashes casting a ring of shadow below his eyes as he glanced down at her.
He picked up the envelope first and opened it to read.
Lin Weixia looked away and moved past him, brushing his shoulder. Without warning, Ban Sheng caught her arm with his left hand and asked: “You’re asking me out?”
“Fine — I’ll be there,” Ban Sheng said, looking down at her.
The air conditioning in the classroom had been shut off long ago. Ban Sheng’s hands were cool; he himself radiated warmth. He leaned over her, his gaze pressing down. Lin Weixia felt an inexplicable heat rise in her, her back breaking out in a faint sweat. She raised her eyes to meet his and was about to speak: “It’s Si—”
With a bang, someone kicked open the door. Light flooded in. Lin Weixia immediately pulled free of his grip and walked forward. The two of them carried on as if nothing had happened as more students poured in, all complaining about the heat.
No matter — the process didn’t matter; what mattered was the result, and he would be there.
On Friday, fiery sunset clouds burned across every patch of sky. At the school gate, students streamed out in a steady flow, shoulders jostling shoulders — car horns, buses pulling up, bicycle bells all blending together into the backdrop of the end of the school week.
Lin Weixia walked out of the gate in her school uniform, her bag on her back, being pushed forward constantly by the crowd. She was pulling out her bus card to go catch the bus when she looked up and saw Liu Sijia standing at the stop sign near the school gate.
Ban Sheng was standing beside her.
He wore his school uniform neatly, tall and slender — perhaps because they were now outside the school, the buttons at his collar were loosened by a few, exposing a stretch of smooth throat. His fingers held a cigarette as he glanced at his phone with casual disinterest.
Beside him, Liu Sijia was saying something to him. Ban Sheng nodded, and a brilliant smile broke out across Liu Sijia’s face.
Liu Sijia spotted Lin Weixia in the crowd and waved at her excitedly. Lin Weixia smiled back. Then she saw Liu Sijia tug at Ban Sheng’s sleeve, pointing in her direction. Ban Sheng deigned to lift his gaze and look over — in a perfunctory, indifferent way.
It lasted only two seconds. His expression was blank.
Lin Weixia’s heart tightened. She gripped her backpack strap.
Before long, a driver arrived in a black car to pick up Ban Sheng. Ban Sheng pressed out his cigarette butt on the lid of a stainless-steel trash bin, turned and stepped into the car. Then Lin Weixia watched as Liu Sijia pressed close to Ban Sheng and slid in beside him.