Qiao Qingyu spun around quickly. In the too-quiet classroom, every tiny sound was magnified. The sharp noise of tearing open the envelope and ripping paper pierced the air—Qiao Qingyu’s scalp tingled, knowing Ming Sheng was staring at her every move from behind.
To prevent making any more noise, she pulled out the snow-white letter paper with painstaking slowness and extreme care.
“Hey,” Ming Sheng suddenly spoke, making no effort to hide his displeasure, “aren’t you going to explain?”
Qiao Qingyu stopped unfolding the letter. Images flashed through her mind like a fast-forwarding film: the fire at the old house in Nanqiao Village, Qiao Baiyu’s diary burning in the flames, scalding hot water in the darkness, the heavy tears on Li Fanghao’s face… How could she possibly explain any of this?
“Did you hear me,” Ming Sheng’s voice carried a note of anger, “Qiao Qingyu?”
“I heard you,” Qiao Qingyu turned her head slightly, “I can’t explain, and besides, it’s none of your business.”
She added: “My hand is injured, so I can’t help you with homework anymore.”
The sound of a chair moving—Ming Sheng had stood up. Qiao Qingyu wanted to look back but didn’t dare. Before she could react, Ming Sheng had appeared in front of her, striding over to sit in the chair directly ahead.
“Looks serious.”
Qiao Qingyu hurriedly lowered her left hand, immediately regretting this panicked movement.
“A burn?”
“I told you it’s none of your business,” Qiao Qingyu said, her right thumb unconsciously rubbing He Kai’s envelope. “As you can see, I really can’t help you with homework anymore.”
Ming Sheng suddenly leaned closer, his gaze fixed directly on Qiao Qingyu’s face: “Why won’t you look at me? Are you afraid of me?”
Qiao Qingyu frowned and lifted her eyes: “No.”
She was certainly familiar with Ming Sheng’s appearance, but facing this handsome face without warning, and at such close range—barely half a meter away—she couldn’t help but be startled. Describing him as breathtakingly beautiful wouldn’t be an exaggeration. His noble nose bridge commanded presence, and beneath long lashes, his clear black-and-white eyes were both pure and profound. His thick eyebrows appeared delicate at first glance but slightly messy upon closer inspection, perfectly expressing an untameable quality. His short, slightly disheveled hair looked as if it had never received proper attention, with several rebellious strands breaking ranks, melting into the slanting sunlight. He was glowing, platinum-like.
“Your injury is on your left wrist,” Ming Sheng said casually, “which means you can still help me with homework.”
Qiao Qingyu paused slightly, then responded with another “No.”
“I’ve met all your conditions,” Ming Sheng said, placing the black N95 mask on the desk, “I gave back your letter, and you can keep using the phone.”
“I don’t have enough time or money to help you with homework,” Qiao Qingyu said directly. “If my mom discovered the phone once, she’ll discover it again. I really can’t do this anymore.”
“If your mom is so omniscient,” Ming Sheng glanced at the envelope on the desk, his tone dismissive, “then how dare you exchange letters with that coward He Kai? You definitely won’t throw away his letters and you’ll write back to him, right?”
Qiao Qingyu found herself unable to refute.
“Instead of spending time on that, you might as well help me with homework,” Ming Sheng said lightly. “Just use your phone, I’ll help you with the phone bills.”
Qiao Qingyu didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Not only were these two things completely incomparable, but her own phone wasn’t much better than a basic model—you couldn’t even see faces clearly in photos, making it impossible to communicate about homework through picture messages. However, Ming Sheng probably hadn’t anticipated her phone being so poor.
“As for whatever bad things you did with my phone over the weekend that made your mom chase you to school,” Ming Sheng continued, “I won’t pursue that matter.”
Without realizing it, Qiao Qingyu had regained her composure and was thinking.
“Well?”
“You hate doing homework, don’t you?”
“Who likes doing homework,” Ming Sheng slightly furrowed his brows, “but I don’t have time.”
“Busy playing basketball?”
Ming Sheng’s expression changed, showing surprise and what seemed like suppressed laughter: “You think I can’t prioritize?”
“Then why don’t you have time?”
“Exams,” Ming Sheng stared at Qiao Qingyu, “SAT.”
Qiao Qingyu clearly didn’t understand, but Ming Sheng didn’t give her a chance to ask more.
“Anyway, I’m much busier than you think,” he leaned back against the desk behind him, crossing his hands behind his head and lifting his chin, looking down at her, “especially these six months. If you can help me, this phone is yours, and I’ll pay for the bills.”
“I don’t want the phone,” Qiao Qingyu shook her head, speaking clearly and meeting Ming Sheng’s eyes without fear, “Homework takes more time than writing letters, but if you promise me one thing, I can help you long-term.”
Ming Sheng maintained his lordly posture: “Say it.”
“I know your father is the director of Provincial First Hospital,” Qiao Qingyu unconsciously sat up straighter, “and my sister Qiao Baiyu passed away there three years ago. If you can help me find out exactly how she died, I’ll help you with homework forever, without any complaints.”
After speaking, she carefully studied Ming Sheng’s expression. He remained unmoved at first, then after a few seconds, as if suddenly processing what she’d said, he let out a contemptuous “heh.”
“I don’t talk to my father,” his tone was cold as he stood up, his tall, lean figure perfectly blocking the slanting sunlight from the window, casting a shadow across Qiao Qingyu’s desk, “Let’s just stay out of each other’s business, Qiao Qingyu.”
After learning from Sun Yinglong that the phone had been claimed by a third-year student named Wang Mumu, Li Fanghao accepted that Qiao Qingyu hadn’t lied and stopped mentioning the matter. Both the phone and gold bracelet incidents were considered settled, and along with them, Qiao Baiyu’s incomplete diary was confiscated. Several days later, while helping at the noodle shop after school, Qiao Qingyu glanced back at Li Fanghao’s busy figure moving in and out of the kitchen, suddenly feeling as if everything had been a dream.
If not for the injury on her wrist, everything that had happened would have vanished like the steam from the large aluminum pot of white porridge at the shop’s entrance.
Qiao Qingyu was extremely dissatisfied with her parents’ self-deceptive way of forgetting all “bad” things. However, when Qiao Jinyu returned home for the weekend, Qiao Qingyu realized she wasn’t much better than her parents.
“Sis, just tell me honestly,” Qiao Jinyu pestered Qiao Qingyu, “who lent you the phone? I definitely won’t tell anyone.”
“Thanks for keeping the phone secret with your tight lips, but you don’t need to know more,” Qiao Qingyu said firmly, “knowing won’t mean anything.”
These words seemed to have been prepared in her mind, flowing out without thought. After speaking, Qiao Qingyu couldn’t help but think that perhaps her parents’ concealment of Qiao Baiyu’s cause of death was also because they felt revealing the truth would be meaningless.
After all, Qiao Baiyu would never come back.
Qiao Qingyu had almost believed her parents would eventually truly forget about Qiao Baiyu that weekend when the Qiao Family Handmade Noodle Shop closed for the second time in a week, this time formally posting the reason as “family matters” on the rolling door.
It wasn’t until they were about to leave that Qiao Qingyu learned their destination was Anling Garden.
It was Qiao Baiyu’s twenty-third death anniversary, on this clear autumn day.
After getting off the bus and climbing up the hillside steps, even the usually lively and casual Qiao Jinyu became quiet and composed. Anling Garden was Huan City’s most scenic cemetery, backed by North Mountain and facing Clear Lake, with higher tombstones offering a complete view of Huan City across the lake. After entering the cemetery, the family followed Qiao Lusheng’s lead up the stone steps in the middle of the burial ground. Near the top, Qiao Lusheng turned left and stopped at a white tombstone close to the steps.
Qiao Qingyu followed closely behind Qiao Lusheng, her eyes drawn to the photo in the center of the tombstone before her feet even stopped moving.
It was a black and white photograph she had never seen before, slightly faded, showing Qiao Baiyu with a bare face, bright eyes, and white teeth, radiantly beautiful. All four of them lit incense and bowed, and finally, Qiao Qingyu bent down, leaned close, and carefully wiped away the dust on the photo with her sleeve.
Standing up, she discovered Li Fanghao silently watching her dust-wiping motion from behind. As if afraid to meet Qiao Qingyu’s eyes, when Qiao Qingyu turned around, Li Fanghao quickly instructed Qiao Jinyu to take out their things.
Meanwhile, Qiao Lusheng had already lit a stack of red and green joss paper. Qiao Jinyu put down his bag on the ground, bent over to take out the items inside, and handed them one by one to Qiao Lusheng.
Several well-made pleated paper dresses, a cardboard pasted luxury house, and—Qiao Qingyu’s eyes widened in surprise—the pages torn from the light green notebook containing the incomplete diary.
Qiao Jinyu was also stunned but still handed the papers to Qiao Lusheng.
Before her eyes, Qiao Qingyu watched as those pages were wrapped in a burning light pink dress hem, transformed into brilliantly dancing sparks, and quickly turned to ashes. Qiao Lusheng began tidying up the paper ashes on the ground, and Qiao Qingyu stared blankly at his movements, suddenly finding it hard to breathe.
Beside her, Li Fanghao began to sob: “Baiyu, you foolish child, why won’t you visit mom in her dreams, why do you still refuse to tell mom anything…”
A suffocating gloom pressed down heavily. Qiao Qingyu turned around, facing away from the tombstone, taking deep breaths.
The sky was a pure, transparent blue, Clear Lake seemed sprinkled with crushed silver, and the rows of glass skyscrapers on the opposite shore gleamed clearly—this must be the dreamlike Huan City that Qiao Baiyu had spoken of.
Before descending the mountain, Qiao Lusheng pulled the siblings aside and said seriously: “Your sister liked grand places, scenic places, but your grandparents believe fallen leaves must return to their roots… Mom and Dad made our own decision to buy your sister a place she would like, but as for your grandparents’ side, let Mom and Dad handle it in the future, you must not say anything out of turn.”
It seemed more like a reminder than an explanation.
“Then is sister’s…” Qiao Qingyu boldly asked, “body buried in our hometown or here?”
“Hometown,” Li Fanghao suddenly interjected from behind, sounding as if she had recovered from her grief, “this place is just a spot we bought for your sister, to give your father and me peace of mind.”
She answered too quickly, making Qiao Qingyu doubt her words.
“Mom, Dad,” Qiao Qingyu’s gaze returned to Qiao Baiyu’s photo, “thank you, sister must really love it here.”
After the memorial, the family collected themselves and their belongings. As they slowly walked out of the cemetery, they passed a young man carrying a backpack and holding a large bunch of white roses. As if deliberately avoiding them, he quickened his pace and lowered his head while passing Qiao Qingyu’s family.
Li Fanghao suddenly stopped in her tracks, and after a few seconds, she slapped her forehead and turned to shout: “He Feihai!”
The young man stopped too, turned around, and revealed a shy smile.
“I knew that face looked familiar,” Li Fanghao smiled, “You were in Class 1, Grade 2 at Lifang Central School, wasn’t I right?”
Unable to resist Qiao Lusheng and Li Fanghao’s enthusiastic invitation, He Feihai, after returning from Qiao Baiyu’s grave, squeezed into their taxi and came to Chaoyang New Village. The house had never been used for entertaining, but now they treated him like an honored guest. Shortly after arriving home, Li Fanghao assigned tasks to everyone: Qiao Lusheng would buy vegetables, Qiao Jinyu would buy fruit, and Qiao Qingyu was to get utensils and seasonings from the shop.
Carrying a backpack full of white porcelain bowls and plates, when Qiao Qingyu returned to the second floor of Building 39, she deliberately lightened her steps and silently moved to the door on the third floor.
“So you used to play with Jinrui too,” Li Fanghao sighed inside, “Baiyu never told me about this. This child didn’t treat me like a mother, she’d tell others all sorts of things but never tell me.”
“She wasn’t good at expressing herself,” He Feihai sounded a bit embarrassed, “Unlike how she appeared, she had very high emotional walls…”
“Anyway, I was useless in her eyes as a mother,” Li Fanghao let out a long sigh, “How did you find this place? Did Jinrui tell you?”
“Oh,” He Feihai seemed to suddenly come to his senses, “Yes, Brother Jinrui told me.”
“Here, have some water,” Li Fanghao forced a few laughs, “You’re truly loyal. Coming especially to see Baiyu, ‘s blessing, but unfortunately, her fate was thin, she couldn’t enjoy this blessing…”
Heavy footsteps came from downstairs, probably Qiao Lusheng returning. Qiao Qingyu immediately stood straight and knocked on the door.
She entered first, with Qiao Lusheng following right behind. Li Fanghao put on an apron and went to the kitchen, shooing Qiao Qingyu to her room to do homework, while Qiao Lusheng sat on the sofa, the conversation turning to casual small talk. In her room, Qiao Qingyu listened intently for a while until the sudden television news interrupted, and she gave up eavesdropping.
At least she now knew that Qiao Jinrui also knew about Anling Garden.
During dinner, Qiao Qingyu carefully observed He Feihai and discovered that under his fierce eyebrows lay a pair of gentle, kind eyes. Through the adults’ conversation, she learned that He Feihai came from a poor family but had always excelled in school. Three years ago, he had entered Peking University with the highest score in Xunyun City and now had secured a fully-funded overseas education spot to attend a prestigious American university for graduate school next year. He dressed simply and looked plain, basically answering Li Fanghao or Qiao Lusheng’s questions one by one, appearing wooden and somewhat slow, yet emanating a powerful sense of stability and security.
Qiao Qingyu thought her sister must have trusted him deeply, which meant he must know quite a bit about her sister’s affairs.
But she had no chance to talk with He Feihai alone.
After sitting at home for several hours, when He Feihai stood up to leave, Qiao Qingyu voluntarily helped him get his coat from the wall.
“Thank you, little sister.” He Feihai smiled. This was the first time today he had looked directly into Qiao Qingyu’s eyes.
Qiao Qingyu’s heart was racing—while getting his coat, she had slipped a piece of paper with her QQ number into his coat pocket.
On Sunday, the Qiao Family Handmade Noodle Shop operated as usual, with Li Fanghao and Qiao Lusheng spinning like tops again. After helping in the shop for a while in the morning, Qiao Qingyu said she wanted to go to the school library to look up information, but Li Fanghao forbade it.
Qiao Qingyu understood that Li Fanghao’s trust in her was like a paper cut by a knife—it could never return to its original state.
Faced with Li Fanghao’s decisiveness, she didn’t insist further but instead returned to her lightless room. Turning on the desk lamp, she found the light green notebook had somehow returned to her desk, lying quietly next to her English textbook. When she picked it up and opened it, the middle pages had been torn out, leaving it empty, as if its heart had been removed.
Throwing the notebook aside, Qiao Qingyu fell straight back onto her bed.
“It’s okay,” she stared at the ceiling, as if looking at Qiao Baiyu’s flawless face, “I’ll remember forever.”
To avoid missing He Feihai’s friend request, after lunch on Monday, Qiao Qingyu found a computer in the school library and accepted almost all recent QQ friend requests. She counted as she clicked accept: twenty-eight.
It was more than she had imagined, but she didn’t think much of it.
Suddenly the little penguin in the bottom right of the screen kept flashing. Most were bored and lonely boys, opening with frivolous compliments. Qiao Qingyu generally didn’t reply, and when things seemed off, she simply deleted them. After doing this for a while, in a newly popped-up chat window, a strange account with a yellow-haired avatar immediately called out Qiao Qingyu’s name.
“Who are you?” Qiao Qingyu typed her first reply.
“Who cares who I am, who do you think you are, adding then deleting people, acting all pure!” came the response.
How did he know she had deleted people? Qiao Qingyu was a bit confused but didn’t want to investigate further, so she closed the chat window and skillfully deleted this complaining person.
Then she clicked on another flashing penguin, and another chat window popped up, this time with a purple-haired avatar wearing glasses, username “I Only Care About You.”
Looking somewhat proper, could it be He Feihai?
In the chat window, there was just a “hello?”
Qiao Qingyu replied with a “hi.”
“Qiao Qingyu from Huan Second Middle School, Class 5, Grade 2, Group 4, Row 4,” the other side sent, “Are you lonely?”
Not He Feihai. Qiao Qingyu suddenly understood why so many strange, vulgar men had added her—someone had given out her QQ number to them.
A group of good-for-nothing who knew each other.
She was about to repeat her earlier deletion operation, and had just moved the mouse when her eyes widened: three photos appeared rapidly in the chat window, two of her back view, one of her downturned face in profile. All scenes were in the classroom, and though obviously taken secretly, the images were very clear, especially the photo of her lowering her head to take a book—zoomed in, even her eyelashes in the shadows were distinct.
“Lonely heart with nowhere to go,” came another message, “Brother will take care of you, beautiful…”
A chill ran down her spine, and Qiao Qingyu’s entire body went rigid.
“Brother will wait for you at the school gate after class,” the other side continued, “don’t be afraid, just want to have a bowl of signature beef noodles at your place, be good.”
Fear enveloped her from head to toe.
“I used to care for your sister too,” they continued, “now it’s little sister’s turn, cutie.”
Her mind went blank, blindingly white.
After a long while, Qiao Qingyu realized that the silver-white gleam in her mind was the edge of a blade.