Everything in the world stood still—from the rustling of leaves beaten by the cold wind to her breathing and heartbeat. The streetlight’s rays slanted across, perfectly illuminating Qiao Qingyu’s entire face. With no path behind her and the cold, dark canal hanging below her feet, she lost the courage to move.
“Just thinking about you makes me uncomfortable,” Ming Sheng adjusted his posture, his voice calm and steady. “This feeling isn’t just painful; it makes me slow to react. Without it, when you stabbed Ye Zilin, I wouldn’t have hesitated to grab your hand. Grabbing the blade directly—damn, that was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”
These words restored Qiao Qingyu’s ability to think. So, Ming Sheng was still bothered by it. Missing the last few important basketball games would probably be a lifelong regret for him. Li Fang was right—once the harm is done, it stays there forever.
“To be honest, I think dating you would be asking for trouble,” Ming Sheng continued. “Being with you means being associated with your sister’s permanent stain, your mother is a terrifying control freak, and your brother is a fawning coward with sticky fingers.” He paused, seeming to gauge her reaction. “And you—aside from being stubborn, you just read books all day, rarely smile, and are quite boring. I can’t even understand why I fell for you.”
Qiao Qingyu had completely regained her composure.
“But I’ve figured it out. Taking this step would be liberation for both of us,” Ming Sheng’s voice was sincere and confident. “With me protecting you, no one would dare bully you.”
Silence spread through the air. After a while, Ming Sheng spoke again: “I don’t have experience with girlfriends, but I’ll treat you well, because…” He exhaled, then continued, “Because I’ve fallen for you.”
Qiao Qingyu heard the struggle in his voice and wanted to counter with “don’t force yourself,” but swallowed the words back. The initial shock had subsided, and now a peculiar dissatisfaction was bouncing around in her chest. She needed to organize her thoughts carefully.
“Qiao Qingyu, I’ve said so much,” Ming Sheng looked at her with resignation. “Can’t you be a bit more responsive?”
“You’ve made it clear that making me your girlfriend is to resolve your painful feelings—a favor to me,” Qiao Qingyu said slowly. “Well, let me be equally clear: I refuse.”
Ming Sheng’s eyes widened in disbelief: “You’re rejecting me?”
“I think when someone can analyze pros and cons so thoroughly during what’s supposed to be a ‘confession,’ it’s not real affection,” Qiao Qingyu said. “My family and I are worthless in your eyes. You even said you don’t understand why you like me. I think it’s simple—though you act domineering, you still have a conscience. That painful feeling you have is just humanitarian sympathy.”
Ming Sheng let out a scoffing laugh, as if amused by anger: “Humanitarian… you make it sound so reasonable.”
Qiao Qingyu felt somewhat sheepish at his laughter but continued anyway: “Another thing is that, unlike other girls, I don’t fawn over you or praise you, so you…”
“I think about you every damn moment,” Ming Sheng’s tone carried undisguised anger. “Just tell me straight—are you rejecting me because of He Kai?”
Qiao Qingyu was taken aback.
“It’s simple for me. If you’re already dating him, forget I said anything,” Ming Sheng waved dismissively. “But if you’re not, what reason do you have to reject me? Do you know how many girls would envy you as my girlfriend?”
“I’m not dating Senior He Kai, and as for you, I’ve already said I don’t want to,” Qiao Qingyu felt her anger rising. “Don’t you understand? Your feelings for me are like those for a pitiful little animal. I don’t think I’m pitiful, and I don’t need your reluctant charity.”
“I’m just telling you my honest thoughts,” Ming Sheng frowned. “My heart has been aching for so long—is that fake?”
“You’ll forget this feeling after winter break,” Qiao Qingyu said bluntly, inexplicably feeling close to angry tears. “After all, in your eyes, I’m boring and worthless except for bringing you pain.”
Ming Sheng sounded helpless: “Stubborn—you don’t even know how rigid you are.”
“Anyway, I refuse,” Qiao Qingyu’s anger hadn’t subsided. “Besides, with my control freak mother, how dare I date at this age?”
Ming Sheng clicked his tongue dismissively: “That’s a lie. I’ve never met anyone braver than you.”
They both fell silent. Qiao Qingyu turned to look at the river—the black waters had already swallowed any trace of that letter. Though melancholic, her breathing gradually steadied. She felt the wind again, cool against her face. Her ponytail had come loose, and wisps of hair by her temples tickled her nose.
Qiao Qingyu straightened her back and raised a hand to tuck her hair behind her ear, suddenly realizing she was sitting suspended on a tree branch. Startled, she quickly withdrew her hand and pressed both hands firmly against the branch to maintain balance, just as before.
After the shock passed, she glanced toward the shadowy part of the tree fork, inadvertently falling into a pair of brilliant, gentle eyes.
Those caught-off-guard eyes were filled with youthful tenderness, almost overflowing. The embarrassment that flashed in his pupils suggested that he hadn’t been simply looking at her, but rather carefully, tenderly stealing a kiss with his gaze.
Her heart suddenly went wild, chaotically pounding against her ribcage, her head spinning as if struck—Qiao Qingyu felt she might fall into the river at any moment.
She couldn’t understand why darkness could never hide the light in Ming Sheng’s eyes. Looking at him again, he turned away, reaching into his shoulder bag with one hand to pull out his phone.
“I…”
“I…”
Neither looking at the other, they spoke and stopped simultaneously. Just as Qiao Qingyu was thinking of letting Ming Sheng speak first, he took the initiative: “I hope you keep your word, Qiao Qingyu.”
It was his usual lazy tone, tinged with weariness, but the inherent superiority gave Qiao Qingyu no small amount of pressure.
“What?”
“No. Dating. At. This. Age.” Ming Sheng enunciated each word while lighting up his phone screen.
Qiao Qingyu had originally wanted to sincerely apologize face-to-face for stabbing him last time. But his arrogant, controlling tone made her abandon that thought.
“I’m going back,” she said coldly.
Ming Sheng stared at his phone: “Goodbye.”
“Move aside.”
“No.”
The tree branch grew upward, and her current position was not only right against the riverbank but also nearly two people’s height from the ground—jumping down was impossible. Ming Sheng’s perch was the only way down from the tree. As if having anticipated this, after saying no, Ming Sheng looked up with a half-smile: “Come on over then.”
Qiao Qingyu didn’t play his game. Right in front of Ming Sheng, she took off her cotton jacket, put her phone in the pocket, threw it under the tree, and then moved outward a few more steps before leaping into the bone-chilling canal.
Finally, after changing all her dripping wet clothes and drying her hair, Qiao Qingyu sat at her desk with a cup of hot ginger water. Ming Sheng’s words echoed in her mind: “I’ve never met anyone braver than you.” Though it was probably mockery, thinking about it now brought a strange pleasure.
Regardless, Ming Sheng had confessed to her. For any girl, this would be a glory worth bragging about. Those thirty minutes in the tree felt like a tumultuous dream, and those honey-sweet eyes she’d accidentally caught made the dream even more ethereal. But it wouldn’t do. At her desk, Qiao Qingyu opened her newly borrowed “Crime and Punishment,” attempting to use Dostoevsky’s sublimity and profundity to pull her fevered heart away from meaningless vanity.
“In early July, during an extremely hot spell, towards evening, a young man left his little room in S— Lane, stepped out onto the street, and slowly as if indecisively, headed towards K— Bridge.”
Though just a brief opening passage, Qiao Qingyu stared at it for a long time. The heat, the cramped room, stepping onto the street. One semester ago, on that stuffy afternoon when she left this confining space with adventurous dreams, how could she have known that waiting ahead was a beast with bloody jaws?
If she had obediently stayed home then, wouldn’t the past half year have been completely different?
And herself, sitting here now, would probably be in a different state of mind—monotonous, boring, and numb, just like before.
That soul-stirring glance when she first met Ming Sheng still made her heart flutter when she recalled it. If life were just like first meetings, then between us, that single inadvertent glance would have been enough—Qiao Qingyu suddenly felt incredibly dejected—you with your brilliant radiance and me with my mess of a life, we were never meant to walk the same path.
She picked up her pen, pulled out her notebook from her schoolbag, and began earnestly copying the brief opening.
“Just treat it as a dream,” Qiao Qingyu told herself, “pretend I was like the young man in the book, leaving my room and walking towards the bridge, instead of passing by Madam Feng’s newsstand. Pretend I never ran into Senior He Kai. Pretend,” her pen paused, and she closed her eyes slightly painfully, “pretend I have amnesia, forgetting everything that happened this semester, including tonight.”
Next semester would begin a truly new life.
The sound of a key entering the lock came, followed by Qiao Lusheng, Li Fanghao, and Qiao Huan entering the house in succession. Qiao Qingyu’s door wasn’t locked, and moments later, Qiao Huan, wearing a puffy down jacket, pushed open the door: “Qingqing, here!”
A string of grilled sausages appeared under Qiao Qingyu’s nose, the tempting aroma instantly arousing her taste buds. She smiled at Qiao Huan, put down her pen, and accepted them.
“Take a break,” Qiao Huan moved closer, “you’re studying too hard, doing homework even during vacation!”
“It’s not homework,” Qiao Qingyu smiled and shook her head, “just reading an extracurricular book.”
Qiao Huan leaned in closer, frowning as she slowly read the two lines at the top of the page:
Most importantly, we must first be kind, then honest, and finally, never forget each other.
“Did you write this?”
“No,” Qiao Qingyu smiled, “it’s from a famous book. I copy down parts I like.”
Qiao Huan’s brow smoothed out, full of approval: “That makes sense, this is exactly how people should live…”
Her voice trailed off, seeming lost in thought. Qiao Qingyu raised the sausage to her mouth, then stopped mid-air and gently tugged at Qiao Huan’s sleeve: “Sister Huan?”
“Ah, haha, I spaced out,” Qiao Huan laughed, leaning in closer. “Hey, did you know Jinrui is getting married during New Year?”
“Brother Jinrui is getting married during New Year?”
“They got their marriage license in Huanzhou a few months ago. They’re having two ceremonies—one in the village on the sixth day of the New Year, and a formal one at the Huanzhou Hotel in March. Your uncle’s new house was built for his son’s marriage.”
Qiao Qingyu responded with a cold “Oh.”
“Your Brother Jinrui will be thirty in a couple of years, it’s a happy occasion. I didn’t think much of it at first,” Qiao Huan continued, “but seeing these words in your notebook, something just bothered me. Let me tell you, don’t laugh at me for being superstitious! Baiyu has been gone for over two years, it’ll be three years after New Year, and according to tradition, no celebrations should be held within three years of a death. So Jinrui hasn’t done anything wrong! Maybe I’m overthinking, but they moved into the new house months ago, and that’s also a celebration—shouldn’t they have waited three years for that too? And getting the marriage license before three years… But if your grandparents can be open-minded about it, why am I being so old-fashioned…”
“You feel they’re disrespecting our deceased sister by rushing things,” Qiao Qingyu interjected, looking seriously at Qiao Huan. “Because our whole family has always been known for strictly following filial piety and traditions, right?”
“Well, yes,” Qiao Huan looked at Qiao Qingyu reproachfully, “it’s not about appearances. Your grandparents—who in the village would say anything bad about them? They were moral role models in the township. If it weren’t for good family values, how could all the descendants like Jinrui, you, and Jinyu turn out so well? Only Baiyu strayed accidentally, but everyone knows that each person has their fate. Baiyu’s fate was what it was, no matter how well your grandparents treated her… Besides, your uncle and aunt were incredibly good to Baiyu, and still are to your family. When Baiyu first came to the village, Jinrui wouldn’t let her step in a speck of mud, everyone saw him carrying her around everywhere, treating her like a princess. Ah, talking about it now, I understand better—what was I uncomfortable about? Jinrui is of age, marriage is a joyous thing, who am I to overthink… I’m just uneducated and superstitious… If Baiyu knew her Brother Jinrui was getting married, she’d be even happier than him, don’t you think?”
Qiao Qingyu lowered her eyes without responding.
“Oh, you haven’t eaten your sausage, it’s getting cold,” Qiao Huan pushed Qiao Qingyu’s hand, “Quick, take a bite, I brought it, especially for you.”
“Sister Huan must feel disappointed,” Qiao Qingyu said, “After all, waiting six more months to move into the new house and get married wouldn’t have hurt the uncle’s family, and it would have shown proper respect for the sister. Their rushing makes all their previous kindness to sister seem somewhat discounted now.”
“What?” Qiao Huan looked confused, “How could they wait with the old house flooded like that? Besides, Jinrui’s girlfriend is from the city of Huanzhou, I heard her parents are both senior officials, they’re getting old and hoping their only daughter marries soon. Jinrui might be able to wait, but the girl can’t.”
Perhaps seeing Qiao Qingyu’s unconcealed dissatisfaction, Qiao Huan suddenly became nervous: “Qingqing, your parents told me not to mention Jinrui’s marriage to you earlier, saying you’re rebellious now and might throw a tantrum… I mentioned it because I thought you were young and educated, you wouldn’t be superstitious like me about the three-year thing, right? You’ve always been sensible, how could you make trouble? I just don’t understand, right? Besides, you’ll find out about Jinrui’s wedding on the sixth when you return to Nanqiao Village anyway… we’re going back tomorrow…”
The latter part sounded like Qiao Huan justifying it to herself. Qiao Qingyu gently patted her shoulder, smiling reassuringly: “Sister Huan, my parents don’t understand me. Brother Jinrui’s marriage is a good thing. As long as he’s sincere and honest about marriage, I’m happy for him and wish him well.”
“That’s what I’m saying, what’s the point of having issues with Jinrui for no reason, right? Brother Jinrui has been good to you too, giving you red envelopes every New Year, right?” Qiao Huan brightened up.
“The red envelopes are all with my mom.”
“You’ll get more this year at his wedding,” Qiao Huan winked, “Jinrui is generous. If you help out at the wedding, he’ll surely give you an even bigger red envelope.”
Ten days until the wedding. Qiao Qingyu could hardly wait.