Lin Yingtao won first place in the women’s 1500-meter event at the school sports meet and came in second in the 800-meter race, losing by just half a second.
The excitement of victory was short-lived. Soon, a faint sense of disappointment crept into Lin Yingtao’s heart.
Growing up reading romance novels and watching romantic movies, Lin Yingtao sometimes couldn’t help but fantasize. If one day she encountered some natural disaster or human calamity – a fire, tsunami, or armed robbery – in these moments that tested true love, a handsome male protagonist would see the weak and helpless Lin Yingtao and descend from the heavens to rescue her.
In reality, Lin Yingtao could probably outrun all the male protagonists. Perhaps she should find a boyfriend on the track and field team.
After a week of cheerleader training, the coach led the group of girls to the principal’s office, saying they needed to take some photos with the school leaders to be published in the school newspaper after the basketball tournament.
The principal’s office was divided into two rooms. Lin Qile and the others entered and stood in the outer room, chatting excitedly as they waited.
“Who’s inside?” a girl whispered. Through the door to the inner room, they could hear faint voices talking.
“Some students are taking the math competition next month,” the coach said. “There’s a teacher from Tsinghua University inside.”
“Wow!” a girl exclaimed softly. “Tsinghua!”
Someone came out – it was the principal’s secretary. The secretary smiled and spoke quietly with the female coach, asking the girls to wait a bit longer as they weren’t finished inside yet.
Lin Qile, wearing a mini skirt, peered through the half-open door behind the secretary.
Several students in school uniforms were sitting on the sofa in the inner room, looking at some papers in their hands.
Jiang Qiaoxi was among them.
Suddenly, Jiang Qiaoxi turned his head and glanced at them outside the door.
“Qile!” a girl beside her leaned in and said, “Jiang Qiaoxi is looking at you!”
The Tsinghua teacher was speaking inside, occasionally pacing back and forth. Perhaps they were very impressed with some of the students before them. Jiang Qiaoxi would lower his head to listen from time to time, and when the teacher walked away, he would raise his eyes again. He saw Lin Qile’s face, her clothes, and the little boots on her feet.
“Jiang Qiaoxi just like you. Look at how he’s staring at you!” her teammates said beside her.
“What are you talking about? Don’t say such things!” Lin Qile lowered her voice, afraid to speak up.
“What’s wrong with that? That’s how boys look at girls. Even top students are still guys!”
Jiang Qiaoxi stood up from the sofa. A teacher opened the door and led the students out; it seemed they had finally finished talking.
Lin Qile lowered her head and quickly followed her group into the principal’s office, brushing past them.
After the photo session was over, Lin Qile finally felt relieved. As she and her teammates left the principal’s office, they found the Tsinghua teacher still in the corridor: “Jiang Qiaoxi, after the winter camp is over, you can come and visit Tsinghua if you’d like.”
Jiang Qiaoxi said, “Thank you, teacher.”
The fabric of the tank top clung tightly to Lin Qile’s body, outlining the young girl’s rounded yet slender figure. A few strands of hair were tucked behind her crescent-shaped ears. There was a faint brown mole on her right shoulder blade, very small and rarely exposed.
Suddenly, that mole flashed before Jiang Qiaoxi’s eyes, followed by Lin Qile’s large eyes as she turned around.
“Why are you looking at me?” she said.
Jiang Qiaoxi raised his eyes to meet her gaze.
“Why are you following me?” Lin Qile asked him.
Jiang Qiaoxi stood behind her, maintaining a distance of over a meter.
“We’re in the same class,” Jiang Qiaoxi said.
Lin Qile said, “I’m going to the tennis court.”
Jiang Qiaoxi looked up, glancing at the path ahead: “I’m going to study in the small white building.”
Lin Qile didn’t ask anymore. She turned her head, spun around, and walked along the long corridor covered in trumpet creeper flowers.
“Lin Qile,” Jiang Qiaoxi called from behind.
“I thought you’d never talk to me again!” Jiang Qiaoxi suddenly said.
It was near the end of the school day, and even though they were still in self-study, students were moving about the campus who might see them.
Hearing these words, Lin Qile put both hands in her skirt pockets.
Jiang Qiaoxi walked back in front of her.
Lin Qile looked up at him.
“Why do you smell like smoke?” she couldn’t help but ask.
Jiang Qiaoxi had just walked over. He frowned slightly and sniffed the collar of his school uniform.
“I don’t,” he said.
Lin Qile said, “I can smell it.”
Jiang Qiaoxi said, “Then maybe I picked it up in the principal’s office.”
Lin Yingtao said, “You never tell the truth.”
Jiang Qiaoxi looked at her.
Lin Yingtao took a step back: “I’m not talking to you anymore.”
“Then what should I say?” Jiang Qiaoxi quickly responded.
Lin Yingtao remained silent.
Jiang Qiaoxi looked at her: “You look really good in that skirt.”
He said, “That’s the truth, isn’t it?”
Lin Yingtao ran into the tennis court, changed back into her loose, baggy sportswear, and returned to the classroom to continue self-study. She lowered her head to write chemical equations, looking very focused. As she was balancing the equations, she suddenly pursed her lips, covered the lower half of her face with her hand, and then lowered her head to continue solving problems.
Her deskmate, Huang Zhanjie, slightly furrowed his brows and glanced at her.
With ten minutes left in the self-study period, Cai Fangyuan suddenly changed seats, sitting in front of Huang Zhanjie.
Huang Zhanjie secretly told him that Lin Qile had been smiling at herself during self-study, which looked creepy.
Cai Fangyuan said, “Don’t mind her. Who knows what mischief she’s up to now.”
He took out a book titled “Longmen Special Physics” and quietly slipped it onto Huang Zhanjie’s desk.
“Over fifty pages. Can you finish it tonight?” Cai Fangyuan looked at him.
Huang Zhanjie suddenly picked up his pen and started focusing on his work.
Cai Fangyuan reached out and took his pen away.
“Oh, I really can’t,” Huang Zhanjie said in a low voice. “I’m not lying to you guys. I only know two or three Japanese phrases from watching cartoons as a kid. Look, I’ll be honest, all those lines before were made up by me!”
Cai Fangyuan was stunned, staring at Huang Zhanjie’s face.
“You made them up?”
“Yes, I don’t know Japanese!” Huang Zhanjie was almost crying. “I can’t translate those—”
“Well, you made them up pretty well!” Cai Fangyuan said in surprise. “Quick, hurry up and make up some for this book too!”
Huang Zhanjie had a pained expression on his face. There was still a girl sitting next to him: although Lin Qile had been immersed in her world, Huang Zhanjie felt that if a girl overheard this, he would lose face forever.
“Let me tell you, it’s a rare 1993 collector’s edition of ‘East Week,'” Cai Fangyuan tempted him from the front, his shrewd little eyes fixed on Huang Zhanjie’s face. “Japanese and Hong Kong selected feature films, the kind that even Yu Qiao’er said was good. Just say if you want to see it or not!”
Huang Zhanjie found himself in a dilemma between reason and desire.
He felt like he had already fallen into a den of iniquity, that he was no longer pure. Steeling himself, he said: “Alright, alright! Give it to me, give it to me!”
Feng Letian, the class monitor of Class 18, stood at the classroom door, feeling that some illegal activities were taking place in the class. On one side, a small group of people were gossiping, while on the other, two boys were huddled together studying “Longmen Special Topics.”
Only Lin Qile sat quietly in the corner by the window, studying alone.
Someone came in from behind, and Feng Letian turned to see Jiang Qiaoxi. He quickly made way for him.
He turned back and saw that Lin Qile had looked up, their eyes meeting.
Feng Letian immediately grinned, waving at her in a friendly manner.
Lin Qile was startled but returned a friendly smile.
Back when they were at the south campus, for some reason, Feng Letian always felt that Lin was “unconventional” and looked cool. To be specific, Lin hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary. But when he looked into her eyes, he always felt that she had her own set of ideas.
Perhaps it was because her eyes were so large that when she had no expression, she appeared serious and aloof.
But when she smiled, it immediately gave a feeling of spring blossoming. She should smile more often.
The next morning during reading time, Yu Qiao sat behind Lin Qile. He looked at the “Longmen Special Topics” that Cai Fangyuan had given him for a while, then yawned. Just as Lin Qile came back after filling her water bottle, Yu Qiao took out a handful of tea bags from his drawer and stuffed them into Lin Qile’s hand.
Lin Qile opened the cups one by one, arranged them on the table, and put a tea bag in each. After she finished, she realized that she had accidentally put a tea bag in Jiang Qiaoxi’s cup as well.
The next morning, when Lin Qile came to school, she picked up Jiang Qiaoxi’s cup from the table and suddenly found a note stuck to the bottom of the cup.
It was Jiang Qiaoxi’s fountain pen handwriting: A bit bitter.
Lin Qile stuffed four tea bags into it at once.
Yu Qiao said from behind, “Mooching off your water card doesn’t warrant murder.”
Jiang Qiaoxi came to class. He looked a bit tired, after all, no matter how early Lin Qile came in the morning, that black cup was always already on her desk: it was a mystery what time Jiang Qiaoxi came to school.
Jiang Qiaoxi sat down and took out his textbook to open it. He opened the cup and took a sip of water, not having swallowed it all yet, with half still in his mouth.
Jiang Qiaoxi looked down at the cup, just as the teacher came in. Jiang Qiaoxi raised his head to look at Lin Qile’s back.
He managed to swallow it, then took another sip.
During the afternoon activity time, girls from the neighboring class came to call Lin Qile to join the cheerleader training. They changed clothes on the tennis court, warmed up, and then ran together to the auditorium.
Jiang Qiaoxi would always be standing in the second-floor corridor of the small white building. Every time Lin Qile passed by this path, she could see him if she turned her head.
Sometimes he was reading alone, sometimes he was explaining problems to the junior high school students in the competition class.
A girl walking with her put her hand to her mouth and called out, “Jiang Qiaoxi!”
Jiang Qiaoxi raised his head, only to see the door of the auditorium hurriedly closing in front of him.
Lin Qile picked up the black cup on the table and found another sticky note attached to the bottom.
“I won’t be coming to school for a while. Keep the cup at your place for a couple of days.”
Lin Qile was taken aback. She peeled off this note and found another one stuck underneath.
“Cherry, are you still mad at me?”
Huang Zhanjie sat in his seat, watching Lin Qile standing there dumbfounded, her backpack strap almost slipping to her elbow, the bag hanging behind her bottom.
“Lin Qile, why haven’t you gone to fill the water yet?” he asked.
Lin Qile said plaintively, “Why do I always have to go fill it? Why can’t you do it yourself?”
Huang Zhanjie was bewildered: “I-I-I-I’ll do it myself! Do you want me to fill it for you?”
Huang Zhanjie left.
Lin Qile plopped down into her seat. She looked at the characters for “Cherry” written by Jiang Qiaoxi several more times.
She pursed her lips and peeled off this note.
Then she discovered there was another line written on the back.
“If you’re not angry anymore, can I call you at 10 PM tonight?”