During class time, the campus of Experimental High School was mostly deserted. A female student walked to a tree, glancing around furtively before pulling a piece of paper from her uniform pocket. She quickly unfolded it, attached tape to the corners, and swiftly stuck it to the bulletin board.
In Class 18 of the second-year students, Chinese literature was in session. Cai Fangyuan passed a note forward to Lin Qile.
“Are you a girl? You’re so shameless about reading hentai manga.”
Lin Qile, hunched over her desk with stomach pain, wrote back: “What’s wrong with me reading it? If you can write it, I can read it!”
Cai Fangyuan replied: “Even Huang Zhanjie feels embarrassed about it.”
Lin Qile, despite her discomfort, scribbled: “He’s him, and I’m me! If I don’t mind, tell him not to worry!”
After a while, Huang Zhanjie, his face flushed, whispered timidly: “Lin… Lin Qile…” He couldn’t even look at her, his ears burning red.
Lin Qile heard him and initially wanted to roll her eyes, but soon found herself suppressing a laugh. Cai Fangyuan was also shaking with laughter in front of them.
When class ended, Lin Qile skipped the between-class exercises, still feeling unwell at her desk.
Students lined up on the playground. Qin Yeyun ran from Class 3 to join Class 18’s line, approaching from behind. She noticed Yu Qiao, the class sports representative, at the front, along with Cai Fangyuan.
Teachers patrolled nearby.
“Jiang Qiaoxi,” Qin Yeyun called out, stretching her neck from behind. “Jiang Qiaoxi!”
Jiang Qiaoxi turned to see Qin Yeyun with her newly permed hair.
Qin Yeyun and Jiang Qiaoxi rarely interacted, only becoming somewhat acquainted after their recent bookstore visit.
Qin Yeyun found this situation thrilling, especially when she called out “Jiang Qiaoxi.” She noticed several girls from nearby classes watching her, including Cen Xiaoman, who glanced back from the front.
“Do you have any change?” Qin Yeyun asked, her confidence soaring. She felt justified in talking to Jiang Qiaoxi, having a legitimate reason.
Lowering her voice, she added: “Lin Yingtao asked me to buy something for her!”
Jiang Qiaoxi reached into his pocket, asking: “What do you need to buy?”
A teacher called out from behind: “Which class are you from? Go back to your line!”
Qin Yeyun hurriedly said: “Why don’t you go buy it for her?” She leaned in and whispered a few words to Jiang Qiaoxi before dashing off.
Jiang Qiaoxi stood there, watching her leave.
After the exercises, students flooded back to their classrooms. Jiang Qiaoxi, tall and recognizable from his frequent appearances on the school’s honor board, entered the school store. He always carried change for buying cigarettes from seniors.
He circled the store, aware of others watching his hands as he perused the shelves. The store buzzed with student chatter.
Jiang Qiaoxi bought a pack of feminine hygiene products, some chocolate bars, and two bags of shrimp chips, placing them in a bag. At checkout, he lowered his head to count change as other students whispered around him.
On his way back to the sophomore building, Jiang Qiaoxi passed through the front plaza. Head down, he didn’t notice the cold December wind. His mind was preoccupied with how to subtly suggest Lin Yingtao study for TOEFL.
“Jiang Qiaoxi!” someone called out. “There’s another love letter for you on the bulletin board!”
Jiang Qiaoxi looked up.
He heard whispers behind him: “Jiang Chunlu?”
More students gathered near the bulletin board under the camphor trees on the east side of the plaza. They pointed at the paper, laughing and taking photos with their phones.
Jiang Qiaoxi approached.
“Jiang Qiaoxi,
I am Lin Qile.
The little rabbit died. Do you remember it? It was four years old…”
Though the handwriting was unfamiliar, the words were not. Jiang Qiaoxi tore the paper down.
Back in Class 18, Lin Yingtao sat glumly at her desk, sipping the hot water Huang Zhanjie had brought her. Only a dozen students had returned, most chatting. Yu Qiao asked her, “Still in pain?”
Lin Yingtao, her face pale, nodded, seemingly dazed by the pain.
She found it strange; this wasn’t her first period, so why was it so uncomfortable?
Suddenly, Jiang Qiaoxi entered the classroom. Lin Yingtao instinctively looked up as he approached, stopping beside Huang Zhanjie’s desk. He tossed a white bag into Lin Yingtao’s lap.
Lin Qile looked up at him.
Jiang Qiaoxi looked down at her.
As more classmates returned, bringing new rumors, Lin Qile, confused, opened the bag. Seeing the sanitary pads inside, her cheeks flushed. Jiang Qiaoxi stood silently beside Huang Zhanjie, his height making Huang Zhanjie visibly uncomfortable.
“I’ll, uh, go get some more water,” Huang Zhanjie said, standing with his water card. “Jiang Qiaoxi, do you want me to—”
Class monitor Feng Letian entered, announcing: “Lin Qile, Jiang Qiaoxi, Mr. Chen wants to see you in his office!”
Lin Qile and Jiang Qiaoxi stood beside their homeroom teacher Mr. Chen’s desk.
They made an odd pair: tall and short, male and female. Lin Qile’s small face was downcast, looking unwell. Jiang Qiaoxi stood with his hands behind his back, head held high, gazing out the office window, seemingly distracted.
Mr. Chen looked at them both, finding the situation increasingly difficult.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
Lin Qile looked bewildered: “I don’t know either.”
Mr. Chen turned to Jiang Qiaoxi. He had recently exhausted himself trying to persuade Jiang Qiaoxi not to give up on the training camp, to little effect.
“What’s wrong with you?” Mr. Chen asked Lin Qile, noticing her dejected state. “Not feeling well?”
Lin Qile nodded, saying, “I asked for leave.”
“Oh right,” Mr. Chen remembered. “Good of you to still come to class.”
Class 18 often appeared on the honor board thanks to Jiang Qiaoxi’s genius. Lin Qile, a top student who had transferred from the south campus, was always well-behaved and maintained excellent grades.
“Lin Qile, did you write a letter to Jiang Qiaoxi?” Mr. Chen asked directly.
Lin Qile’s large eyes widened.
“I did…” she answered honestly.
Jiang Qiaoxi suddenly looked down at her.
“When did you write it?” Mr. Chen asked, frowning.
“In middle school,” Lin Qile said.
“Oh, middle school?” Mr. Chen leaned back, sounding relieved.
“Mr. Chen, Jiang Qiaoxi, and I were neighbors in elementary school,” Lin Qile suddenly explained. “We lived next door to each other.”
“And then?”
“He moved away in middle school, and I missed him. I had no one to play with,” Lin Qile said. “So I wrote him a letter.”
She spoke candidly. After all, Lin Qile’s letter from that time contained nothing inappropriate. She was only thirteen then.
It was the boldness, the sincerity, the fantasies of youth, and Lin Qile’s daring act of venturing into Experimental High School that led to exaggerated rumors and subsequent events.
“Is that so?” Mr. Chen asked.
Jiang Qiaoxi interjected: “Mr. Chen, my parents, and her parents work at the same place. They all know about this. You can call them to confirm.”
He seemed eager for Mr. Chen to make the call.
Mr. Chen started to feel a headache at the mention of Jiang Qiaoxi’s parents, particularly dreading the thought of speaking with his mother.
“Alright, alright, I understand. You two go back to class,” Mr. Chen said, adding, “Lin Qile if you’re still not feeling well, go to the school infirmary. You look very pale.”
Lin Qile hurried towards the door, but turned back at these words, saying politely: “Thank you, teacher.”
Outside the office stood four unfamiliar girls and more onlookers. A teacher called from inside: “You girls, come in!”
Lin Qile walked down the hallway, careful not to get too close to Jiang Qiaoxi. She heard questioning from inside: “Don’t you know there are security cameras on campus?”
During the third period, Jiang Qiaoxi texted Lin Qile: “Isn’t it important to study well?”
Lin Qile asked: “Why did you buy chocolate?”
Jiang Qiaoxi replied: “Don’t girls eat chocolate when they have stomach pain?”
Lin Qile said: “I heard chocolate makes it worse.”
Jiang Qiaoxi responded: “Then eat it when you feel better.”
Lin Qile asked: “What happened? Why bring up that old letter?”
Jiang Qiaoxi said: “Don’t worry about it.”
It had been a long time since anyone mentioned that old story—the mountains, the countryside, the love letter… Jiang Qiaoxi always seemed unapproachable, apparently only interested in mathematics. Half of Experimental High School’s students had come directly from the middle school division, and they had never seen Jiang Qiaoxi live and study like a normal person.
So the Fee Lingers found it hard to understand what Jiang Qiaoxi was discussing with Lin Qile, Yu Qiao, and others when he sat in Huang Zhanjie’s seat during breaks, chatting and smiling.
Jiang Qiaoxi said on the phone: “Since they’re saying we’re in a relationship anyway, why should I stay away from you?”
Lin Qile, fresh from her shower with her wet hair tied up, crouched in the corner of her bed, petting her cat.
The cat purred, softly pressing against her foot.
Lin Qile grumbled into the phone: “You boys are all pigs…”
Jiang Qiaoxi was puzzled by this sudden evaluation.
When she was younger, Lin Qile was always uninhibited. She would call out to him at the top of her lungs, as if afraid he couldn’t hear: “Jiang Qiaoxi!”
Jiang Qiaoxi hated this name so much. More than once, he had thought about changing it to something more meaningful when he grew up and left this place.
But he could never forget the laughter in Lin Qile’s voice when she said his name. Why was she always so happy to see him?
As Lin Qile grew older, she no longer called “Jiang Qiaoxi” with such boldness. Instead, she said it softly, always with hesitation, as if afraid others might hear or that she might disturb him.
Especially at night, when they talked on the phone, Lin Qile would say quietly, “Jiang Qiaoxi, Jiang Qiaoxi… Jiang Qiaoxi?”
The “xi” was no longer accompanied by laughter, but by a delicate, trembling tone, rising at the end, filled with an inexplicable confusion, unpredictable nervousness, and perhaps expectation, joy, worry, and disappointment.
Jiang Qiaoxi realized that the cherry was ripening, though not yet fully ripe. But he could already see her blush.
After the final exams, Jiang Qiaoxi was set to spend the New Year in Hong Kong, a rare occurrence. He ultimately didn’t participate in the national training team’s assessment, telling Lin Qile he would take the TOEFL exam while in Hong Kong.
“Do you want to take it too?” he asked.
Lin Qile complained that the exam fee was too expensive; she couldn’t afford it.
Jiang Qiaoxi said: “My cousin will pay for you.”
Lin Qile retorted: “I won’t pass anyway!”
“I told you to study, but you didn’t listen,” Jiang Qiaoxi scolded.
“Isn’t there a Disneyland in Hong Kong?” Lin Qile changed the subject.
“Yes, there is,” Jiang Qiaoxi confirmed.
“Hong Kong must be so much fun,” she said enviously.
“Is there anything you want?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she replied.
Jiang Qiaoxi said: “Then I’ll just buy whatever.”
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Our Generation – Chapter Notes:
Hong Kong Disneyland: Located on Lantau Island in Hong Kong’s New Territories, it officially opened on September 12, 2005. It is the 5th Disneyland globally, the 2nd in Asia, and the 1st in China.