During the two days Qiao Huan was away from the shop, Li Fanghao had no choice but to let Qingyu take the bus to and from school by herself, unable to be in two places at once. This sudden “freedom,” however, made Qingyu uneasy.
On the bus, she always felt someone was secretly watching her. To avoid the groups of students, she would push towards the back after boarding, climbing the two steps to the rear section and blending in with the expressionless commuters. To escape unwanted whispers, she habitually plugged in her earphones. Once or twice, as if trying to catch someone in the act, she abruptly swept her gaze across the student groups, only to see young backs that had nothing to do with her. Ming Sheng was among them—which surprised her.
She thought perhaps she was too sensitive to colorful hair. The boys talking around Ming Sheng looked like they were involved in gangs, one of them with bright yellow hair.
There had also been a yellow-haired guy among the group that surrounded her at the bubble tea shop near the school gate last time—Qingyu tried to remember, angry at herself for being too panicked then to memorize all their faces—but it probably wasn’t the same one as on the bus today.
Then she angrily thought, even if it was the same person, wasn’t it only natural that Ming Sheng would be with them?
After getting off the bus, she went to the shop for dinner. Li Fanghao’s constant urging forced her to gulp down the steaming noodles in one go. Qingyu thus deduced that calling the police hadn’t had the intended effect, and those guys were still coming uninvited. She wanted to ask Li Fanghao but didn’t dare. For two consecutive days, she found several bright red marks of varying sizes on the steps at the shop entrance—at first, she was terrified, thinking it was blood, but upon closer inspection, she sighed with relief; it was painted.
But why would there be red paint?
Why had they thrown away all of Qiao Baiyu’s things?
The day Qiao Huan returned was a Saturday, and the shop closed half an hour earlier than usual. Li Fanghao was doing laundry, Qiao Lusheng was watching TV, and Qiao Jinyu was lying in the inner room texting friends. Qiao Huan, having finished her shower, returned to the room and yawned as she prepared for bed. Qingyu, already sitting in bed against the wall, closed “The Brothers Karamazov” she had borrowed from the library.
“Sister Qiao Huan,” she asked directly, “did those guys scribble all over the shop door?”
“Nothing like that,” Qiao Huan winked exaggeratedly, “What are you imagining? Don’t worry about it.”
Qiao Huan wasn’t skilled at lying. Qingyu smiled but didn’t pursue the matter further.
That day, everyone except Qiao Jinyu went to bed unusually early. In the middle of the night, or perhaps early morning, Qingyu vaguely sensed the space beside her suddenly empty. Opening her eyes, she saw dim yellow light seeping through the gap under the wooden door—the living room light was on.
Soon after, she heard footsteps leaving the house, seemingly all three adults. The light went out, and the front door made a slow but crisp click.
Qingyu was instantly awake. Without thinking, she jumped out of bed, hastily put on pants and a jacket, and ran out as well.
She quickly caught sight of their hurrying figures. At the entrance of Chaoyang New Village, the three adults turned towards the noodle shop. Half a minute later, Qingyu crossed the road. Like last time, she hid behind the plane trees on the opposite side, furtively peering across.
Under the pale streetlights, the silver-gray metal shutters of the Qiao Family Handmade Noodle Shop were covered with chaotic bright red characters:
AIDS family! Dirty! Sons of bitches!
Extremely ugly and vicious. There was also a crudely drawn girl in an obscene pose. It was shocking. Qingyu closed her eyes, feeling almost suffocated by the distress.
From across the street came the harsh sound of the shutters being raised, then lowered again. Qiao Lusheng brought out several buckets of paint from inside the shop, set up some chairs, and together with Li Fanghao and Qiao Huan, immediately began painting over the door with brown paint.
Qingyu quickly left.
She ran to the canal’s edge. The water was still, the air silent; not a single car passed on the road at this hour. In the silence, Qingyu turned her head and saw the immovable, gnarled old camphor tree not far away. She walked towards it.
This time, the official protection sign was clean and new, no longer bearing Ming Sheng’s warning.
The scene of Ke Kai being threatened by Ming Sheng under this tree months ago flashed through her mind. These dark months since entering Huan No. 2 Middle School were as suffocating as the black river water.
It all started with Ming Sheng.
Looking up, the disorderly crisscrossing branches were covered with countless pale green leaves, like a huge net heavily pressing down on the sky. The trunk was covered in countless wrinkles and dry and lifeless bark.
Qingyu stepped over the low railing.
These past few days, she had been carrying that bronze utility knife with her. It wasn’t heavy but lay solidly in her pocket, slightly deforming her pants but giving her a sense of security. Even in her haste to leave just now, she still had the knife.
Approaching the trunk, Qingyu tightly pursed her lips and revealed the cold blade—
Early Monday morning, the strange threatening note Ming Sheng found in his desk sparked heated discussion in the class: just two characters meaning “Stop it” written on the back of a piece of tree bark about half the size of a palm. Why was it threatening? Because—as Ming Sheng himself explained—one corner of the bark was charred, indicating that the person was threatening him with fire.
“Damn, didn’t you endure everything for the basketball game? How come someone’s still messing with you?” Chen Yuqian, who had come specially to join the excitement, was thrilled. “Why use tree bark? What kind of psycho is this?”
“I’d like to know too,” Ming Sheng’s voice wasn’t loud but penetrating, reaching Qingyu’s ears without fail, “Who’s deliberately picking a fight with me, not even sparing an old tree.”
“It says ‘Stop it,’ did you bully some girl and push her too far?” Ye Zilin joked absent-mindedly.
“That’s you,” Chen Yuqian retorted on Ming Sheng’s behalf, “Look at your lovesick face. You didn’t even come to Sheng’s game yesterday, where were you hanging out? Finally got that girl from Jiangbin?”
Ye Zilin laughed lewdly: “Yesterday was my big day, not suitable for broadcasting. I’ll tell you the details later~”
After the seat change, Ming Sheng had left his “throne” by the back door and was now on the central axis of the classroom, but on the other side in the last row of the fifth small group, right next to the fourth group, less than two meters from Qingyu. As they talked, many people rushed to the back rows to see the threatening note, and Ming Sheng let them pass it around. Qingyu mumbled into her English textbook, her mind floating around the classroom with that piece of bark. Finally, Guan Lan, in front and to the right, stood up and handed the bark to Gao Chi, who was sitting behind Qingyu and had reached his right arm over her head.
“Who’s so bored,” Guan Lan stood facing the back, left hand on hip, right hand unconsciously tapping Qingyu’s desk in indignation, “Sheng, it must be those guys from Yu Cai deliberately causing trouble, trying to provoke you and affect our school team’s game!”
“Ah then we can’t fall into their trap. Didn’t they deliberately challenge Sheng to a fight before last year’s game?” Deng Meixi suddenly appeared, linking arms with Guan Lan. “It got Sheng disciplined and affected his performance in the game, so mean…”
Though she was speaking to Guan Lan, her words fell into everyone’s ears, including Qingyu’s. How come she had never noticed before how affected Deng Meixi was?
“That fat guy from Yu Cai last year was expelled,” Ye Zilin shouted, “I don’t believe they’d dare try a second time.”
Gao Chi turned the bark over in his hands: “Why write on tree bark? This must have been put on Sheng’s desk by someone from our school, right? Who came to the classroom first this morning? Did anyone see people from other classes come in?”
“I opened the door~” Jiang Nian in the front row raised her hand like an elementary school student, “But I sit in the first row, so I didn’t notice~”
“I was the second to arrive, and didn’t see anyone from other classes~” Yang Wenxi, now sitting by the back door, spoke up, “Maybe it wasn’t put in Sheng’s desk this morning?”
“You can tell from the knife marks that it wasn’t cut long ago, definitely within the last day or two,” Gao Chi mused, rubbing the bark. “It looks a bit like camphor tree bark…”
Amidst the teasing cries of “Detective Gao Chi,” Qingyu quietly took a breath. For the first time, she realized how united her Class 5 of the second year of high school was, and deeply understood Ming Sheng’s frightening influence: he seemed able to mobilize the entire class without doing anything.
Even more terrifying was his silence. Using the old tree he cared about to threaten him, Qingyu didn’t believe she was as invisible to him as she was to others.
The ringing of the class bell interrupted the crime scene investigation that had taken over the entire classroom, but Qingyu knew this wouldn’t end there. Soon, she would become the target of a school-wide manhunt. As Teacher Xiao Wu explained vocabulary on the blackboard, Qingyu absent-mindedly twirled her pen, dropping it several times. The third time she bent to pick it up, Teacher Xiao Wu called on her.
“Read these example sentences aloud.”
Feeling guilty, Qingyu read haltingly. While English had been one of her strong subjects at Shunyun No. 1 High School, here at Huan No. 2 Middle School, like all other subjects, her English was unremarkable, and her spoken English seemed a bit rustic due to its stiffness. At this moment, she had lost all confidence. She finished reading softly, facing the blackboard, so nervous that all her pores seemed to open up.
“You seem completely out of it,” Ms. Wu said disapprovingly. “Stand up and listen.”
Qiao Qingyu lowered her head, her face flushing to the roots of her ears. Never before had she been treated like a problem student in class, and she felt utterly humiliated.
“Teacher,” Ming Sheng drawled lazily, “she’s blocking our view back here.”
Ms. Wu’s eyes widened, and her helpless gaze passed over Qiao Qingyu. With a barely perceptible hint of dejection mixed with gentle reproach, she asked, “So what do you suggest we do?”
“Have her stand in the back.”
Before Ms. Wu could nod, Qiao Qingyu had already grabbed her book and squeezed out of her seat. She kept her eyes straight ahead until she reached the blackboard at the back of the classroom. Only then did she notice Ming Sheng’s smug expression as he leaned back with his hands clasped behind his head? His chair was further back than the others, with his right knee against the edge of the desk. In any other teacher’s class at Shunyun No. 1 High School, such a relaxed posture would have earned him a punishment.
As Ms. Wu continued explaining vocabulary, Qiao Qingyu focused on the blackboard. Ming Sheng’s back was just a meter away, slightly to her left. From the corner of her eye, she saw him lower his hands to the desk, then raise them behind his head again.
This time, however, he held a note between his fingers. Three words were scrawled on it: “It was you.”
Qiao Qingyu’s heart raced at this gesture. When Ms. Wu turned around, she quickly shifted her gaze back to the blackboard. “Yes, it was me,” she thought angrily. “Why did you let that tree bark circulate the class if you knew it was me?”
Seconds later, Ming Sheng withdrew his hand and scribbled a few more words. Then, just as before, he interlocked his fingers behind his head, casually presenting the note to Qiao Qingyu:
“I told you, we don’t interfere with each other.”
After a moment’s reflection, Qiao Qingyu remembered. The last time in the classroom, when she had asked Ming Sheng to help inquire about the true cause of Qiao Baiyu’s death, he had indeed uttered these four words.
At the time, she hadn’t paid much attention, subconsciously interpreting them as Ming Sheng’s refusal to help. Now, as he brought it up again, she realized he was seriously drawing a line between them.
Suddenly, she became aware that she had crossed that line.
The answer was clear: Ming Sheng wasn’t the “accomplice” hidden behind Hei Ge. He actively refused any association with her. Besides, hadn’t Hei Ge mentioned that Ming Sheng would run away? How could she have forgotten?
Whether he knew about Hei Ge’s actions at the noodle shop was irrelevant. Even if he did know and took pleasure in it, Qiao Qingyu couldn’t say anything—after all, Hei Ge’s actions weren’t his responsibility. The instigator of this mess was Ye Zilin.
It was she who had let anger cloud her judgment, making Ming Sheng an unwarranted target.
An unprecedented sense of shame washed over her. Though standing behind Ming Sheng, Qiao Qingyu felt as if she were facing him, forcing him to watch her awkward, flailing movements. An inexplicable embarrassment prevented her from lifting her head.
She wished she could turn back time, put away the utility knife, and retract her ridiculous determination in the night. She longed to let that ancient camphor tree continue its silent, unscathed vigil.
Ming Sheng wrote nothing more. Instead, he picked up an English novel and immediately immersed himself in it. After writing a few key terms on the blackboard, Ms. Wu sat down at her desk and instructed everyone to write a short essay. The classroom suddenly fell into dead silence. At the very back, a whirlwind of complex emotions engulfed Qiao Qingyu, the only student standing. No one noticed her slip her hand into her school uniform pocket, gripping the utility knife pressed against her thigh.
She believed this time it was the reason guiding her decision.
Arranging to meet Ye Zilin was simple, but seeing him proved more challenging. After half an hour of enduring the cold wind on the rooftop, Qiao Qingyu received a text from Ye Zilin directing her to the backstage area of the auditorium.
The small door behind the auditorium was unlocked but unexpectedly heavy and thick, shutting out the light from outside. Qiao Qingyu groped her way into the unfamiliar territory she had never before entered. Rounding a corner, she saw only the faint green glow of an “Emergency Exit” sign at the end of the pitch-black corridor. She stopped and called out, “Ye Zilin.”
Receiving no response and not daring to proceed, she turned back. As she reached the corner she had just rounded, a deafening “Ah!” suddenly echoed in her ears.
Qiao Qingyu jumped, startled. Ye Zilin burst into laughter.
“You…” she began.
“Why did little Qiao ask to meet me?” Ye Zilin said in an oily tone. He turned on his phone’s flashlight and, mimicking a horror movie, pointed it up at his chin from below, creating a grotesque and terrifying effect. “Were you scared to death just now?”
Qiao Qingyu turned to leave. “Let’s talk outside.”
“Did Hei Ge and his gang bully you?” Ye Zilin followed, quickly stepping ahead to block the door. His tall frame loomed over Qiao Qingyu. “Why didn’t you come to me earlier? I can help you.”
His breath was close, forcing Qiao Qingyu to step back. “I came to ask why you gave those people my WeChat.”
“Hei Ge is a gentle big brother who can protect you,” Ye Zilin said with a slight chuckle. “Besides, you agreed to it. Hei Ge told me you accepted all those friend requests from his brothers!”
Qiao Qingyu was at a loss for words.
“If you wanted friends, you should have said so,” Ye Zilin’s voice suddenly turned ambiguous as he moved closer. “I understand girls best. The moment I saw you, I knew you needed care. When you offended A-Sheng, I was more worried than anyone… Your skin is so fair, and you always look so cold, like an icicle. But I love icicles—so pure and clean…”
As he spoke, Qiao Qingyu felt something crawling up her arm, like a snake. She quickly realized it was Ye Zilin’s uninvited hand roaming her upper arm.
“Ye Zilin!” Qiao Qingyu shouted angrily, shaking him off. “You’re disgusting!”
She forcefully pushed the figure in front of her and rushed out the door into the garden.
Ye Zilin didn’t follow.
In the garden, Qiao Qingyu gradually regained her composure. Feeling the utility knife in her pocket, she collected her thoughts and headed back towards the auditorium.
But Ye Zilin was gone. She searched and finally spotted his despicable figure in the stands by the basketball court on the playground.
Approaching Ye Zilin from behind, Qiao Qingyu tapped his shoulder. “Come with me.”
Amid the surprise of onlookers, she led Ye Zilin down from the stands to a secluded corner away from prying eyes. As soon as they stopped, she precisely placed the utility knife against the middle of his neck, just below his ear.
“What are you doing…” Ye Zilin’s legs instantly went weak.
“This is a brand-new utility knife,” Qiao Qingyu said, her right hand steady as she forced him against the side wall of the stands. “It can easily cut through your skin. Do you know what lies beneath this thin layer of skin?”
Ye Zilin’s voice quavered. “I’m warning you, Qiao Qingyu, if you dare…”
“The carotid artery,” Qiao Qingyu interrupted, pressing the cold blade flat against Ye Zilin’s neck. “Since you say I’m like an icicle, let me show you just how sharp an icicle can be.”
Ye Zilin’s eyes bulged like a goldfish’s, revealing an expression of unbelievable terror.
“Tell Hei Ge and his gang to stop coming to my family’s shop,” Qiao Qingyu said. “You started this, so you must resolve it.”
“I just gave them your WeChat! I’m not that close to them!” Ye Zilin protested. “I don’t even know what they did to you!”
A few meters away, at the edge of the playground, a group of chattering girls passed by. One of them glanced in their direction several times. Noticing Ye Zilin’s head turn slightly, Qiao Qingyu immediately increased the pressure on her right hand. “Don’t move.”
“I don’t know them well!” Ye Zilin said, his face crumpling. “I just wanted to pursue a girl from No. 22 High School, and Hei Ge helped me add her on WeChat. In exchange, I gave him a female classmate’s WeChat. That’s all!”
“He harasses my family’s shop every day…”
“What does that have to do with me?” Ye Zilin suddenly shouted.
“Don’t think I won’t do it, Ye Zilin,” Qiao Qingyu said, her face dark. “If you don’t agree to resolve this, I’ll cut your neck.”
“The problem is, I can’t do it,” Ye Zilin said, looking miserable. “I told you, I’m not close to Hei Ge.”
“I don’t care.”
“The problem is you…”
Ye Zilin didn’t finish his sentence. A figure descended from above—Ming Sheng had jumped down from the stands.
The moment she saw Ming Sheng, Qiao Qingyu’s right hand seemed to develop a mind of its own, lifting before forcefully slamming down on Ye Zilin’s shoulder. Amidst Ye Zilin’s exaggerated cry of shock, another hand appeared out of nowhere, firmly grasping the blade of the utility knife.
By the time Qiao Qingyu realized what had happened, the blood flowing from Ming Sheng’s hand had already stained the knife’s tip red.