When the bell rang for the third literature class, Qiao Qingyu didn’t know why she was still sitting in the classroom. She felt she could simply run away from home and never look back.
Li Fanghao appeared on campus after the flag-raising ceremony. Standing beneath the flagpole on the platform, Qiao Qingyu saw Li Fanghao’s distant figure checking in at the security office before quickly walking through the school gates. As Principal Huang took the stage for his weekly summary, she gazed at the neat sea of blackheads below, suddenly feeling the urge to leap forward into the crowd.
She imagined growing wings before hitting the ground, soaring higher amidst the crowd’s upturned faces and gasps, before dissolving into the dazzling sunlight, disappearing completely.
The autumn breeze caressed her cheeks like ribbons of silk. Qiao Qingyu came back to herself, tilted her face slightly upward, and focused intently on each breath she took.
No one knew her left wrist was burned. Nobody cared, and she kept it well hidden. After removing the white gloves from flag-raising, she used her thumb to hook the sleeve of her uniform, just enough to cover the reddened, injured skin. She discovered she was quite skilled at concealment—hiding wounds, ignoring the pain they brought as if nothing had ever happened.
Just like how her parents deliberately forgot her sister had ever existed.
When Sun Yinglong entered the classroom, he gave Qiao Qingyu a meaningful look, letting her know Li Fanghao hadn’t left. Anxiously enduring until class ended, Sun Yinglong set down his lecture notes and strode to her desk, asking with concern how her hand was.
“Oh,” Qiao Qingyu instinctively hid her left hand under the desk, avoiding curious glances from those who turned around, “much better, Teacher Sun.”
“Your mother told me everything,” Sun Yinglong nodded meaningfully. “After next period’s chemistry class, don’t go to lunch yet. Come to my office, your mother is waiting.”
“I understand.”
As soon as he left, Jiang Nian from nearby leaned over to ask what was wrong.
“Nothing serious,” Qiao Qingyu replied cautiously. “By the way, I need to see Teacher Sun at lunch, so I won’t be eating then. You should eat with the others.”
Jiang Nian flopped onto the desk, clearly confused and dissatisfied: “You’re upset because I’ve been too busy to eat with you lately?”
Qiao Qingyu hadn’t expected such directness from Jiang Nian. Touched and somewhat embarrassed, she lowered her head with a smile, gently reassuring Jiang Nian: “No, it has nothing to do with you. I know you’ve been busy.”
Jiang Nian’s eyes were full of concern: “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, catching in her throat. To prevent this powerful emotion from turning into hot tears, Qiao Qingyu let out a hearty laugh: “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, look how beautiful you are when you smile!”
The comment made Qiao Qingyu lower her head shyly, and when she raised it again, the smile had vanished.
“You should smile more, really,” Jiang Nian’s eyes were full of sincerity and encouragement. “Whatever it is, just laugh it off!”
Qiao Qingyu wished she could face everything with a smile, but that had always been just a wish. When she reached Teacher Sun’s office door after class and saw Li Fanghao’s ice-cold profile on the sofa, all hope and expectation vanished like soap bubbles floating in the air—gone in the blink of an eye.
“Come in, Qiao Qingyu,” Sun Yinglong beckoned to her standing in the doorway, his tone gentle. “Come in.”
Entering, Qiao Qingyu saw the brand new N95 sitting on Sun Yinglong’s desk right in front of him.
“I know everything,” Sun Yinglong said while glancing around. “I don’t like beating around the bush. There’s no one else in the office now, Qiao Qingyu. Come, explain to me properly where this phone came from… I’ve already discussed it with your mother—you just need to tell the truth. Once you explain, this matter will be over. Whether it came through proper or improper channels, there won’t be any consequences.”
After he finished speaking, silence fell. Li Fanghao held her head up, her gaze fixed intently on Qiao Qingyu’s face.
“There’s no one else here,” Sun Yinglong gave a dry laugh and repeated. “Your teacher and mother would never harm you. If it comes through proper channels, speaking up clears your name; if through improper channels, speaking up gives you a way out, a chance. Keeping it hidden, letting others guess, does you no good.”
Li Fanghao gave a short nod beside him.
“I’ve told your mother that at school, you’ve never really integrated into the group. You’re always alone, isolated, helpless. Your mother was crying earlier, she’s worried about you,” Sun Yinglong said softly. “She’s afraid you’re closing yourself off, heading down the wrong path…”
“Qingqing,” Li Fanghao suddenly spoke up, “your father went to the sports school this morning to find Xiaoyu and got the gold bracelet back. The other day when I was angry, I hit you—that was wrong of me. Your face hurts, but Mother’s heart hurts here!”
Seeing her clutch her chest emotionally, voice breaking with tears, Qiao Qingyu grew even calmer. That harsh slap, delivered without distinguishing right from wrong—she would never forget it. Honestly, she would prefer if Li Fanghao remained harsh rather than joining forces with the teacher to show weakness. To slap someone and then claim to be the injured party—in her mother’s eyes, she was always in the wrong.
“I just discussed this with your mother. The phone and the bracelet are two separate matters that happened to occur at the same time,” Sun Yinglong said. “Regarding the bracelet, your brother has admitted it was a moment of poor judgment on his part, but he’s returned it so that matter is settled. As for the phone, only you can explain that clearly.”
“I found the phone,” Qiao Qingyu spoke up. “I found it in the school library.”
Sun Yinglong smiled disbelievingly: “This…”
“Who took the photo?” Li Fanghao suddenly resumed her usual severity. “Weren’t you supposed to have no friends? Who helped you take it, and where?”
“Xiaoyu took it for me, at home,” Qiao Qingyu remained composed. “You can check the photo’s timestamp—it was Saturday night.”
“I asked earlier, and Xiaoyu said he never saw any phone!” Li Fanghao’s voice rose.
Qiao Qingyu laughed bitterly inside—that Qiao Jinyu had kept her instructions in mind. But—she wanted to demand of Li Fanghao—but Mom, why do you believe my brother and not me?
“What exactly is going on?!” Li Fanghao suddenly stood up. “Teacher Sun, you see? This child has been telling nothing but lies lately as if possessed by something. She used to be so sensible…”
“Qiao Qingyu,” Sun Yinglong’s expression grew more serious, “not explaining clearly will only make your mother more anxious. This isn’t such a big matter—it can be cleared up in just a few sentences, right?”
Qiao Qingyu nodded: “Right.”
“Then speak.”
Before speaking, Qiao Qingyu took a slow breath: “I asked Qiao Jinyu to take the photo in the phone, and forced him not to tell anyone I had a phone. I found the phone last Tuesday in the school library.”
Hearing this, the familiar fire blazed in Li Fanghao’s eyes. She was about to explode, but Sun Yinglong beat her to it: “So you were planning to keep the phone for yourself, not return it?”
There was no response from Qiao Qingyu for a long while. Li Fanghao shouted: “The teacher asked you a question, answer!”
“I’m not that kind of person,” Qiao Qingyu raised her eyes to look at the scrutinizing faces before her, her voice trembling slightly. “Whether you believe me or not, I was definitely going to return the phone.”
After hurriedly finishing lunch in the cafeteria, Qiao Qingyu took Li Fanghao on a tour of the campus. When they reached the garden beside the auditorium, Li Fanghao pulled her to sit down.
Jiang Nian’s voice came over the school broadcast system—a lost and found announcement. Li Fanghao perked up her ears, and after verifying that the brand, model, and pristine condition of the phone matched exactly, she turned her head, grabbed Qiao Qingyu’s injured left hand, and let out a long sigh.
“Qingqing, your father and I just run a small noodle shop. No matter how hard we work every day, we only earn so much. We can’t afford to give you all the nice things… Huanzhou is much bigger than Shunyun, there must be many wealthy students at the school. When others have nice things, we shouldn’t be envious, and shouldn’t try to compete with others. Being true to yourself, staying grounded and honest—that’s what’s most important…”
Qiao Qingyu turned her head away, her gaze losing focus on a bright green holly bush. Students passed by in twos and threes along the path in front of the bench, while Li Fanghao’s endless chatter made her want to sink into the ground.
“Good afternoon, students. We have a lost and found announcement. Last Tuesday, a student found a black Nokia N95 phone in the library reading room. The phone number is…”
As the broadcast played for the second time, Qiao Qingyu realized she and Li Fanghao had been sitting on the bench for ten minutes. There was still half an hour until afternoon classes, and in ten minutes the lost and found announcement would play for the third time. Glancing back at Li Fanghao, she saw her mother’s mouth still moving, with clearly no intention of leaving.
“…Mom being strict with you isn’t mistreating you, it’s a genuine concern. At your age, if there’s even a slight…”
The same few sentences over and over.
“Don’t you agree?”
“Mm.” Qiao Qingyu nodded, stealing another glance at Li Fanghao when her heart suddenly stopped.
Mingsheng, Ye Zilin, and Chen Yuqian were standing motionless not far behind Li Fanghao.
When she had firmly declared to Teacher Sun that she had “found” the phone, Qiao Qingyu had imagined the consequences. It was already fortunate that Li Fanghao had chosen to use the school broadcast system rather than searching for the phone’s owner during assembly. She didn’t think Mingsheng would come forward to claim it—the memory of Li Fanghao’s harsh “lecture” over the phone at the start of the term must have left a deep impression on him. Surely someone as clever and proud as him would keep his distance from “that kind of mother” waiting to ambush him, avoiding even a speck of dust that might tarnish his pristine reputation.
Yet in her peripheral vision, the three were approaching them.
Her left hand’s fingers curled slightly with tension as Qiao Qingyu returned her gaze to the silent holly bush ahead.
“Ah, this hand will take some time to heal,” Li Fanghao lowered her head to stroke the back of Qiao Qingyu’s left hand. “Fortunately it’s not too cold now. Don’t cover it with your sleeve, leaving it exposed will help it heal faster, understand?”
Qiao Qingyu nodded. Why hadn’t they passed by yet?
“If it leaves a scar it won’t look good… Girls shouldn’t be vain, but taking care of yourself is still important, after all, you have a long life ahead…”
While Li Fanghao was looking down and sighing, Qiao Qingyu gathered her courage to turn her head slightly, only to have her furtive glance unexpectedly meet Mingsheng’s bright eyes looking at her. Her mind exploded with noise, and she quickly withdrew her gaze back to the steadfast holly bush.
No wonder they were walking slowly—Mingsheng’s twisted foot hadn’t healed yet.
Seconds later, Qiao Qingyu realized she’d been trying to calm her earthquake-like heartbeat. She tried to think, but her thoughts kept drifting to Mingsheng’s limping gait. Because of his foot injury, he’d been staying in the classroom most of the time lately, usually napping on his desk during lunch—why had he come out today?
Recalling how they had stood there looking down at her and Li Fanghao with such interest, Qiao Qingyu couldn’t help but think they had come deliberately, 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 sat half-turned toward Qiao Qingyu, still with head lowered, completely unaware that behind her, barely two meters away on the path, Mingsheng and the others had reached her shadow. Qiao Qingyu’s gaze shifted over, just in time to witness Mingsheng raise his injured foot and slowly, forcefully, precisely step on the head of Li Fanghao’s shadow.
Suddenly Qiao Qingyu understood: 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—as if he would ever be interested in her annoying, boring daughter. As if he would want any connection with their pathetic family. What did it matter if Li Fanghao was a parent? Being intimidated by her was out of the question.
Defeating Li Fanghao would be simple, not even requiring confrontation—just mentioning Qiao Baiyu as they passed by would do it. First, have Ye Zilin praise Qiao Baiyu’s appearance with endless wonderful words, then have Chen Yuqian condemn her behavior in extremely vulgar terms, and finally, he would conclude with false sympathy: it was all because her parents didn’t want her. Yes, a few sentences would be enough to destroy Li Fanghao.
Two seconds later, Mingsheng lifted his other foot. Qiao Qingyu raised her eyes, held her breath, and looked directly into his pitch-black eyes.
“Please don’t,” she screamed internally, “spare my mother.”
His bright black eyes grew deep, like a bottomless pool of clear water.
Qiao 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 look Mingsheng over several times.
“I prefer those who are fair-skinned but mature,” Ye Zilin’s ethereal voice made Qiao Qingyu’s heart leap to her throat, “looking delicate yet pure, like that one in Jiangbin New District…”
“I’m skipping PE this afternoon,” Mingsheng cut off Chen Yuqian without ceremony. “You two come to find me in the art room after school.”
Chen Yuqian shot a glance at Qiao Qingyu, exchanging bewildered looks with Ye Zilin. Before they could react, Mingsheng added, “Ye Zilin, stop bringing Su Tian along, for fuck’s sake.”
“Oh, oh okay,” Ye Zilin hurriedly agreed, keeping pace with Mingsheng who had suddenly quickened his steps. “But, it’s just that she keeps asking me where you are when she can’t find you, isn’t she learning painting from you…”
“She. Is. Noisy,” Mingsheng was irritated. “There’s nowhere in this school where I can just be quiet…”
The three gradually moved away, following the path around a bend before disappearing behind a small snow cedar. The air grew quiet, and Qiao Qingyu remained rigid, slightly dazed by her own pounding heart.
He had spared them.
“The one in the middle was Mingsheng?”
Li Fanghao stared at her, eyes sharp as knife points.
Qiao Qingyu responded sluggishly: “Yes.”
“Stay-away-from-him.”
The command was like a threat. Qiao Qingyu knew she had to respond immediately, without showing any displeasure, and she did exactly that.
“I know,” she avoided Li Fanghao’s gaze. “Don’t worry, Mom.”
The third afternoon period was PE class, and Qiao Qingyu was excused due to her injured hand. Before the bell rang, Jiang Nian approached her desk and mysteriously slipped a flat small box into it.
“Someone came earlier to claim the phone you found,” she deliberately lowered her voice. “She didn’t ask who found it, just asked me to give this to the honest student who found it, said it’s a thank-you gift.”
Qiao Qingyu was surprised and tried to refuse: “No, I don’t want any gift…”
“Oh, just take it,” Jiang Nian leaned in closer, smiling more mysteriously. “I’d like to tell you who claimed the phone, but that perfect owner won’t let me say! How can I not listen to her words?”
Then she rolled her eyes meaningfully and winked playfully: “That’s all I can reveal, but make sure you keep the gift safe. They say the owner rarely gives gifts to others—usually, people are fighting to give gifts to her. You’re really lucky.”
After everyone had gone to the playground, Qiao Qingyu pulled out the box. It was made of kraft paper, light brown, with the opening carefully sealed with transparent tape. It felt extremely light in her hand, as if empty—what game was Mingsheng playing?
After looking around to confirm no one else was in the classroom, Qiao Qingyu carefully began peeling off the tape.
Inside was a tightly folded white envelope pressed against the box. Suddenly Qiao Qingyu became extremely flustered—he hadn’t written a thank-you note, had he?
The silence in the air pressed down on her, and her pulse reached its peak as she carefully used her pinky to work out the envelope. Finally managing to pull up one corner, Qiao Qingyu took a deep breath and yanked out the envelope, spreading it open.
What caught her eye was “Qiao Qingyu” written in large characters in the center, crooked as if written by a child just learning to write; in the bottom right was the familiar light blue circular school emblem, with “Shunyun First Middle School” printed below it in neat regular script.
At the sender’s line, Qiao Qingyu saw the equally clumsy characters spelling “He Kai.”
So he was just returning Senior He Kai’s letter to me. Qiao Qingyu thought, feeling inexplicably disappointed, then deeply ashamed—of her earlier panic.
She picked up He Kai’s letter, about to tear it open when suddenly she heard a scraping sound from the back door of the classroom.
Looking back, she saw Mingsheng enter, pull out his chair, and plop down to face her with casual abandon.