As the bell rang for the third Chinese class, Qiao Qingyu found herself still sitting in the classroom, unsure why. She felt she could easily run away from home and never look back.
Li Fanghao appeared on campus after the flag-raising ceremony. Qingyu spotted her mother registering at the security office before quickly entering the school grounds from her position at the base of the flagpole on the podium. As Principal Huang delivered his weekly summary, Qingyu gazed at the sea of heads below, suddenly feeling the urge to leap into the crowd.
She imagined growing wings before hitting the ground, soaring higher amidst gasps of astonishment, before dissolving into the dazzling sunlight and vanishing completely.
The gentle autumn breeze caressed her cheeks, bringing Qingyu back to reality. She tilted her face slightly upward, focusing intently on her breathing.
No one knew about the burn on her left wrist. Nobody cared, and she had concealed it well. Removing the white gloves used for flag-raising, she hooked her thumb into her uniform sleeve, effectively hiding the reddened, injured skin. She realized she was adept at concealment—hiding wounds, ignoring the pain they caused as if nothing had happened.
Just like how her parents deliberately forgot her sister’s existence.
When Sun Yinglong entered the classroom, he gave Qingyu a meaningful look, confirming that Li Fanghao was still present. Anxiously enduring until class ended, Sun Yinglong set down his lecture notes and strode to Qingyu’s desk, asking with concern about her hand.
“Oh,” Qingyu instinctively hid her left hand under the desk, avoiding curious glances from those who had turned around, “It’s much better, Teacher Sun.”
“Your mother told me everything,” Sun Yinglong nodded meaningfully. “After the next chemistry class, don’t go to lunch. Come to my office; your mother is waiting for you.”
“Understood.”
As soon as he left, Jiang Nian leaned over to ask what had happened.
“It’s nothing serious,” Qingyu replied cautiously. “By the way, I need to see Teacher Sun at lunch so that I won’t be eating then. You should eat with the others.”
Jiang Nian slumped onto the desk, clearly confused and dissatisfied. “Are you upset because I haven’t been eating with you lately? I’ve been busy.”
Caught off guard by Jiang Nian’s directness, Qingyu felt touched and a bit embarrassed. She lowered her head with a smile, gently reassuring her friend, “No, it’s not about you. I know you’ve been busy.”
Jiang Nian’s eyes filled with sympathy. “I’m not ignoring you… If you want to talk, you can always call me, okay?”
A long-absent warmth welled up from deep within Qingyu’s heart, catching in her throat. To prevent this overwhelming emotion from turning into tears, she laughed heartily, “I know. Don’t worry, I’m fine.”
“Wow,” Jiang Nian’s mouth fell open in surprise. “I wish I could give you a mirror. Look at how beautiful your smile is!”
The compliment made Qingyu lower her head shyly, and when she looked up again, the smile had vanished.
“You should smile more often, really,” Jiang Nian’s eyes brimmed with sincerity and encouragement. “Whatever it is, just laugh it off!”
Qingyu wished she could face everything with a smile, but it had always been just a wish. After class, as she approached Sun Yinglong’s office door and saw Li Fanghao’s icy profile on the sofa, all her hopes and expectations vanished like soap bubbles in the air.
“Come in, Qiao Qingyu,” Sun Yinglong beckoned to her, his tone gentle. “Enter.”
Stepping inside, Qingyu noticed the brand-new N95 mask sitting on Sun Yinglong’s desk.
“I know everything,” Sun Yinglong said, glancing around. “I don’t like beating around the bush. The office is empty now, Qingyu. Come, explain to me where this phone came from… I’ve discussed this with your mother. You only need to tell the truth. Once you do, we’ll consider the matter closed, regardless of how you obtained it, through proper or improper means. There will be no consequences.”
Silence fell as he finished speaking. Li Fanghao looked up, her gaze fixed intently on Qingyu’s face.
“There’s no one else here,” Sun Yinglong repeated with a forced laugh. “Your teacher and mother would never harm you. If you obtained it legitimately, speaking up will clear your name. If not, confessing gives you a way out, a chance. Keeping it to yourself and letting others speculate won’t benefit you at all.”
Li Fanghao nodded briefly.
“I’ve also told your mother that you’ve never fully integrated into the collective at school. You’re often alone, isolated, and helpless,” Sun Yinglong said softly. “Your mother was crying earlier, worried that you’re shutting yourself off and might be heading down the wrong path…”
“Qingqing,” Li Fanghao suddenly spoke up, “Your father went to the sports school this morning to find Xiaobai and got the gold bracelet back. I was too angry the other day when I hit you. I was wrong. Your face hurts, but my heart aches even more!” She clutched her chest, her voice breaking with emotion.
Seeing her mother’s agitation, Qingyu grew calmer. She would never forget that unwarranted, resounding slap. Truthfully, she preferred Li Fanghao to remain stern rather than join forces with the teacher to appear vulnerable. Slapping her daughter and then claiming to be the victim—in her mother’s eyes, Qingyu was always at fault.
“I’ve discussed this with your mother,” Sun Yinglong continued. “The phone and the bracelet are separate issues that happened to coincide. Your brother has admitted to taking the bracelet in a moment of confusion, but he’s returned it so that matter is settled. Only you can clarify the phone situation.”
“I found the phone,” Qingyu said. “In the school library.”
Sun Yinglong smiled skeptically. “Well…”
“Who took the photo?” Li Fanghao suddenly reverted to her usual severity. “You said you had no friends. Who helped you take it, and where?”
“Xiaobai took it for me, at home,” Qingyu replied calmly. “You can check the photo’s timestamp. It was Saturday night.”
“I asked earlier, and Xiaobai said he never saw any phone!” Li Fanghao’s voice rose.
Qingyu inwardly laughed bitterly—Qiao Jinyu had indeed heeded her instructions. But she wanted to challenge her mother: Why do you believe my brother and not me?
“What’s going on?!” Li Fanghao abruptly stood up. “Teacher Sun, look at this child. She’s been lying constantly lately, as if possessed. She used to be so sensible…”
“Qiao Qingyu,” Sun Yinglong’s expression grew serious, “If you don’t explain clearly, you’ll only make your mother more anxious. This isn’t a big deal. You can clarify it in just a few sentences, right?”
Qingyu nodded. “Yes.”
“Then speak.”
Taking a deep breath, Qingyu began: “I asked Qiao Jinyu to take the photo on the phone and coerced him not to reveal that I had it. I found the phone in the school library last Tuesday.”
Hearing this, the familiar anger flared in Li Fanghao’s eyes. She was about to erupt when Sun Yinglong interjected: “So, you were planning to keep the phone for yourself instead of returning it?”
Qingyu remained silent for a moment. Li Fanghao shouted, “The teacher asked you a question! Answer!”
“I’m not that kind of person,” Qingyu looked up, meeting their scrutinizing gazes, her voice slightly trembling. “Whether you believe me or not, I was going to return the phone.”
After a hurried lunch in the cafeteria, Qingyu took Li Fanghao on a tour of the campus. As they reached the garden by the auditorium, Li Fanghao pulled her to sit down.
Jiang Nian’s voice came over the school broadcast, announcing a lost and found item. Li Fanghao listened intently, verifying that the phone’s brand, model, and pristine condition matched exactly. She turned to Qingyu, grasping her injured left hand, and sighed deeply.
“Qingqing, your father and I only run a small noodle shop. We work ourselves to the bone just to earn that little money. We can’t afford to give you the best of everything… Huanzhou is much bigger than Shunyun. There must be many wealthy students at this school. We shouldn’t envy others for having nice things or try to compete with them. What’s most important is to focus on being your best self, to work hard, and stay grounded…”
Qiao Qingyu tilted her head, her gaze losing focus on a lush green holly bush. Groups of students occasionally passed by on the path in front of the bench, while Li Fanghao’s rambling made Qingyu want to disappear.
“Good afternoon, students. We have a lost and found announcement. Last Tuesday, a student found a black Nokia N95 phone in the school library’s reading room. The phone number is…”
As the broadcast sounded for the second time, Qingyu realized she and Li Fanghao had been sitting on the bench for ten minutes. With half an hour left before afternoon classes and the lost and found announcement set to play again in ten minutes, Qingyu glanced back at Li Fanghao, whose mouth showed no signs of stopping or intention to leave.
“…Mom is strict with you not to mistreat you, but because I truly care about you. At your age, if there’s even a little…”
The same few sentences, over and over.
“Don’t you agree?”
“Mm-hmm.” Qingyu nodded, stealing another glance at Li Fanghao. Her heart suddenly skipped a beat.
Mingsheng, Ye Zilin, and Chen Yuqian stood motionless a short distance behind Li Fanghao.
When Qingyu had firmly told Sun Yinglong that she had “found” the phone, she had considered the potential consequences. She felt fortunate that Li Fanghao had chosen to use the school broadcast system rather than searching for the phone’s owner during the assembly. Qingyu didn’t think Mingsheng would come forward to claim it—Li Fanghao’s stern “lecture” over the phone at the beginning of the semester must have left a deep impression on him. Surely, a smart and arrogant person like him would steer clear of “that kind of mother” waiting to ambush him on campus, avoiding even a speck of dust that might tarnish his pristine reputation.
Yet, in her peripheral vision, the three of them began to approach.
Qingyu’s left-hand fingers curled slightly with tension as she refocused on the silent holly to her right.
“Ah this hand will take some time to heal,” Li Fanghao said, gently stroking the back of Qingyu’s left hand. “Fortunately, the weather isn’t too cold now. Don’t hide it with your sleeve; let it breathe to heal faster, okay?”
Qingyu nodded. Why hadn’t they passed by yet?
“It would be a shame if it leaves a scar… Girls shouldn’t be vain, but taking care of yourself is important. After all, you have a long life ahead…”
As Li Fanghao lowered her head in contemplation, Qingyu dared to glance over, her exploratory gaze unexpectedly meeting Mingsheng’s bright eyes. Her mind went blank, and she quickly looked away, focusing once more on the steadfast holly.
No wonder they were walking slowly; Mingsheng’s previously sprained foot hadn’t fully healed.
Seconds later, Qingyu realized she had been trying to calm her racing heart. She attempted to think, but her thoughts kept drifting to Mingsheng’s limping gait. Why had he come out today when he’d been staying in the classroom most of the time lately due to his foot injury, usually napping at his desk during lunch?
Recalling how they had stood there, looking down at her and Li Fanghao with interest, Qingyu couldn’t help but think they had come prepared, targeting her.
There was no need to guess what would happen; it would surely be some form of humiliation, a joke at her expense.
Li Fanghao, half-turned towards Qingyu with her head still bowed, remained oblivious to Mingsheng and his friends, now close enough for their shadows to touch her own. Qingyu shifted her gaze, just in time to witness Mingsheng lifting his injured foot and deliberately, precisely placing it on the head of Li Fanghao’s shadow.
Suddenly, Qingyu understood: that Mingsheng’s target wasn’t her, but Li Fanghao.
Of course, he wanted revenge. That phone call days ago had been a great humiliation for him. He needed to clear his name, to show he would never be interested in her irritating, boring daughter. He wanted nothing to do with their pathetic family. What did it matter if Li Fanghao was a parent? He wouldn’t be intimidated.
Defeating Li Fanghao would be simple. He didn’t even need to confront her directly. Just mentioning Qiao Baiyu as they passed by would suffice. First, Ye Zilin could praise Baiyu’s appearance with flowery words, then Chen Yuqian could criticize her behavior crudely, and finally, Mingsheng could conclude with a sanctimonious remark: “This is all because her parents abandoned her.” Yes, a few sentences would be enough to crush Li Fanghao.
Two seconds later, Mingsheng lifted his other foot. Qingyu raised her gaze, holding her breath as she looked directly into his dark eyes.
“Don’t,” she silently pleaded, “Leave my mother alone.”
His bright black eyes deepened, like a bottomless clear pool.
Qingyu wanted to shake her head but quickly suppressed the urge—she didn’t want to appear too pitiful. She lowered her eyes, pretending to ignore them, while Li Fanghao finally noticed their presence and turned to study Mingsheng.
“I prefer mature girls with fair skin,” Ye Zilin’s soft voice made Qingyu’s heart leap to her throat. “They look delicate and pure, like that girl in Jiangbin New District…”
“I’m skipping P.E. this afternoon,” Mingsheng abruptly cut off Chen Yuqian. “You two come to find me in the art room after school.”
Chen Yuqian glanced at Qingyu, then exchanged a puzzled look with Ye Zilin. Before they could react, Mingsheng added, “Ye Zilin, stop bringing Su Tian along.”
“Oh, okay,” Ye Zilin hastily agreed, hurrying to keep up with Mingsheng, who had suddenly quickened his pace. “But she always asks me where you are when she can’t find you. Isn’t she learning to paint from you?”
“She’s. Very. Noisy,” Mingsheng said, clearly irritated. “There’s no place in this school where I can have some peace…”
The three of them gradually moved away, following the path around a bend and disappearing behind a small snow cedar. The air grew quiet. Qingyu remained frozen, dazed by her own wildly beating heart.
He had spared them.
“Was that Mingsheng in the middle?” Li Fanghao’s gaze was sharp as a knife’s edge.
Qingyu responded sluggishly, “Yes.”
“Stay. Away. From. Him.”
The command sounded like a threat. Qingyu knew she had to respond immediately, without a hint of displeasure, and she did just that.
“I understand,” she said, avoiding Li Fanghao’s gaze. “Don’t worry, Mom.”
The third-afternoon class was P.E., but Qingyu was excused due to her injured hand. Just before the bell rang, Jiang Nian approached Qingyu’s desk and discreetly slipped a small, flat box into it.
“Someone came to claim the phone you found,” she whispered. “They didn’t ask who found it but asked me to give this to the honest student who turned it in. It’s a thank-you gift.”
Qingyu was surprised and tried to refuse. “No, I don’t need any gift…”
“Oh, just take it,” Jiang Nian leaned in closer, her smile growing more mysterious. “I’d love to tell you who claimed the phone, but that perfect owner forbade me from saying! How could I disobey her words?”
She winked playfully, adding, “That’s all I can reveal. Make sure you keep the gift safe. I hear the owner rarely gives gifts to others—usually, people are falling over themselves to give her presents. You’re so lucky!”
Once everyone had left for the sports field, Qingyu pulled out the box. It was made of kraft paper, light brown, with the opening securely sealed with clear tape. It felt incredibly light in her hand, as if empty—what game was Mingsheng playing?
After checking that the classroom was empty, Qingyu carefully peeled off the tape.
Inside was a tightly folded white envelope, snug against the box. Suddenly, Qingyu panicked. Surely he hadn’t written a thank-you note?
The silence in the air pressed down on her as she carefully used her pinky to pry out the envelope, her pulse racing. Finally managing to pull out a corner, Qingyu took a deep breath and yanked the envelope out, unfolding it.
Staring back at her were the characters for “Qiao Qingyu” scrawled in the center, looking like they’d been written by a child just learning to write. In the bottom right corner was the familiar light blue circular school emblem, with “Shunyun City No. 1 Middle School” printed below in neat, square characters.
At the end of the sender’s information, Qingyu saw the equally clumsy characters for “He Kai.”
So he was just returning He Kai’s letter to me, Qingyu thought, feeling inexplicably disappointed, then ashamed of her earlier panic.
She picked up He Kai’s letter, about to tear it open when she suddenly heard the back door of the classroom slide open.
Turning around, she saw Mingsheng enter, pull out his chair, and sit down facing her, completely at ease.