As Qiao Qingyu hung up the phone, she imagined that Ming Sheng must feel the same way she did—his heart filled with passion, surging like irresistible waves. Then she thought of destruction—after the waves receded, her soul would be left with nothing.
Why was she so pessimistic? Perhaps Ming Sheng was truly loyal and devoted.
She felt like she was burning up, like a fish thrown into hot oil, every second in this house was torment. When reason prevailed, she began to hate her indecisiveness—why couldn’t she bring herself to leave? This escape was meant to be her solo journey, and she had rejected Ming Sheng last night. Why did the fleeting sadness on his face cut her heart so sharply?
Maybe she was just too easily tempted. Yes, that must be it. “Ming Sheng’s affection” was like a crystal slipper, alluring to any girl. Accepting him would be like stepping into a palace. But she didn’t know him well enough yet. What made her dizzy might just be his striking appearance and the aura surrounding him. So, what was holding her back must be her vanity—as Wang Mumu said, who would refuse to be Ming Sheng’s first girlfriend? This was Ming Sheng, after all.
On the last page of her notebook, Qiao Qingyu carefully wrote down the bus routes to leave Huanzhou. After closing the webpage, she carefully moved the keyboard and mouse back to their original positions. The clock in the living room pointed to 1 PM, exactly 24 hours since she had first entered this place.
She looked around, her gaze filled with resolute sorrow. Go, she told herself, embrace pure freedom with an unclouded heart.
Just then, the lock on the iron door turned again, and Wang Mumu slipped in through the narrow opening.
“Oh,” she smiled upon seeing Qiao Qingyu standing in the middle of the living room with her turtleneck sweater covering half her face. “Good thing I made it in time. You haven’t left yet.”
Qiao Qingyu suppressed an inexplicable annoyance—this was Sister Mumu’s second home, so of course she wouldn’t knock.
“I guessed you’d leave. You’re so decisive and rational,” Wang Mumu said, handing over a bulging backpack. “A-sheng said you didn’t bring anything, so I went home and got some things. Here, you’ll need these on the road—hot water, an umbrella, towels, toothbrush, socks, change of clothes, and such…”
“Sister Mumu,” Qiao Qingyu waved her hands, touched but embarrassed, “You didn’t have to.”
“Come on, just take it,” Wang Mumu pushed the bag into her arms. “How can I not worry about you being all alone? As your friend, I must help you.”
The word “friend” warmed Qiao Qingyu’s heart.
“Sister Mumu…”
“Be very careful out there. The world is complicated,” Wang Mumu said like a caring older sister while helping Qiao Qingyu put on the backpack. “Don’t casually engage with boys, okay? Not every boy is as kind as A-sheng.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Did you tell A-sheng you’re leaving?”
“No.”
“It’s right not to tell him,” Wang Mumu smiled. “If you told him, you wouldn’t be able to leave.”
“Sister Mumu.”
Qiao Qingyu suddenly burst into tears. Wang Mumu embraced her.
“I know you’re hurting,” she patted Qiao Qingyu’s back. “Once you’ve settled somewhere, remember to send a message home, and to me too. Otherwise, we’ll all worry.”
Qiao Qingyu bit her lip: “You’ll be my friend for life, right?”
She seemed to have an epiphany, realizing what she had truly been yearning for all along. It was friendship, a friend she could confide in completely. Wang Mumu’s mention of “friend” was like sweet rain falling on her parched heart, tinged with the bitterness of tears—it meant she had to let go of Ming Sheng forever.
Qiao Qingyu didn’t want to disappoint Wang Mumu. In the face of such weighty friendship, love seemed as fleeting as a bubble, dispensable. Besides, this was also to protect herself. Ming Sheng’s love could very likely be another earth-shattering adventure, and she, already in a precarious state, could not endure it.
“They say high school friends are friends for life because you spend the craziest three years together,” Wang Mumu said sincerely. “Of course, we’ll be lifelong friends.”
“Thank you, Sister Mumu,” Qiao Qingyu adjusted the backpack, pressing it close to her back. “I’m going now.”
Reaching the end of Building 38, Qiao Qingyu suddenly quickened her pace, running towards the winding path by the canal—she feared her feet might disobey her and turn, just to cast a farewell glance at the balcony of her home in Building 39.
She chose the canal path to avoid Mrs. Feng at the newsstand by the community’s main gate. Yesterday noon, though dizzy while curled up in the taxi, she had still caught the meaningful tone in Mrs. Feng’s greeting to Ming Sheng.
“Out with a friend, huh.”
Those five ordinary words had startled her.
Her down jacket was navy blue, and at the time, her entire face had been hidden by her sweater collar and jacket hood, but Qiao Qingyu believed Mrs. Feng had already discerned that the friend Ming Sheng brought was a girl. She might have memorized the style of her clothes with just a glance. Fortunately, the sweater, down jacket, and pants she wore were all new clothes from the New Year. Otherwise, with Mrs. Feng’s detective-like eyesight and memory, she wouldn’t have been able to spend 24 hours safely in Ming Sheng’s grandfather’s house.
The intermittent rain since last night had dispersed the elderly who liked to take walks, and now the damp riverside path was deserted. The old camphor tree was not far ahead on the left, and as she approached, Qiao Qingyu felt a tightness in her nose.
She thought herself too sentimental.
The sign within the fence had been washed clean by the rain. It was an elegant silver-gray, with deep blue characters that appeared calm yet melancholic. Camphor Tree, 500 years old, Level 1 Protected. Five hundred years, Qiao Qingyu murmured, through all the changes of time.
Just like how she felt about Ming Sheng at this moment.
Strange, though nothing had even begun, she felt in her heart as if they had already reached the end.
It started raining again. Qiao Qingyu took out the umbrella from her bag and opened it. With one hand, she rolled down the sweater collar that had been covering her nose and mouth, now damp from her breath. With the other, she lowered the umbrella to cover her upper body, then lifted her legs to continue forward.
As Qiao Qingyu reached the end of the path where narrow steps led to a rusty iron gate that was always open, leading to a busy street, she noticed a woman hurriedly approaching from the gate’s direction, talking on her phone while jogging.
Qiao Qingyu stepped aside to let the woman pass.
“Boss, send a cameraman here quickly!” The woman sounded excited. “Qiao Qingyu’s mother agreed to an interview. I just got off at Chaoyang New Village! I’ll be at her house in two minutes! I need a cameraman! … Her mother said she’d do anything to get Qiao Qingyu home! It won’t be a wasted trip, don’t worry! Hurry!”
As she passed Qiao Qingyu, the woman nodded in thanks, her gaze briefly sweeping over Qiao Qingyu’s pale face.
“Qiao Qingyu isn’t that innocent,” the woman continued as she strode away. “They say she stabbed a classmate at No. 2 High School. She’s just a rebellious girl, using justice as a cover…”
Suddenly, the woman stopped talking and turned back.
Qiao Qingyu tried to leave, but it was too late.
“Qiao Qingyu?” The woman shouted, rushing over to grab her. “It is Qiao Qingyu, right? I thought you looked familiar! Navy blue down jacket, off-white turtleneck sweater, light brown corduroy pants—yes, you are Qiao Qingyu!”
Qiao Qingyu tried to shake her off, but the woman’s grip was too strong.
“You’ve been in Chaoyang New Village all along?” The woman was excited. “I was on the phone with your mother just five minutes ago. She’s been crying for days, worried you might do something drastic… It’s good you’re alright!”
“Let go of me!” Qiao Qingyu shouted, finally turning to face her.
“Don’t be angry,” the woman smiled ingratiatingly. “I’m a reporter from Huanzhou TV’s public affairs channel. We’ve been following your story for days. It’s great to see you safe and sound! Hey, boss,” she put the phone back to her ear—Qiao Qingyu realized she had never hung up—and said jubilantly, “Boss, speak of the devil! I found Qiao Qingyu, she’s right here! YeAh I’ll keep her here. Gotta go!”
After hanging up, she openly studied Qiao Qingyu’s expression. Qiao Qingyu turned away in disgust and embarrassment.
“Little sister,” the reporter smiled understandingly, “Don’t worry, I won’t harm you. Everyone’s been so concerned. Have you seen the news in papers, on TV, and online? Your family has tried everything to find you. Your mother, who chased me away with a broom two days ago, called me today wanting to be on TV. She wants you to know she won’t blame you. If you don’t show up soon, she’ll cry herself blind…”
Her words became increasingly emotional, making Qiao Qingyu uncomfortable.
“Have you been in Chaoyang New Village this whole time? At a friend’s place? You haven’t been home, right? I see you haven’t changed clothes,” seeing her words having an effect, the reporter released Qiao Qingyu’s sleeve. “Where do you plan to go next?”
Qiao Qingyu remained silent, lips pressed together.
“You’ve been gone for days. Shouldn’t you at least let your family know you’re safe?”
These words cut like a scalpel, precise and sharp. Qiao Qingyu lowered her head in shame.
“Whatever the case, it’s good that you’re safe and sound.”
Qiao Qingyu felt the walls of defense in her heart crumbling unnoticed. The rain intensified, and the gray world seeped into her eyes. She saw no way out.
“Go home,” the reporter said, picking up her phone again. “The outside world is more complicated than you imagine. Finish your studies, grow your wings, and then you can truly be independent. I believe you understand this.”
She began dialing.
“Don’t call my mom,” Qiao Qingyu finally spoke, her trembling voice full of pleading. “Please.”
“I’ve seen many rebellious high school students. I know what’s best for you,” the reporter said in an official tone, putting the phone to her ear.
Qiao Qingyu watched the reporter’s mouth move, feeling as if she had gone deaf. Seconds later, Li Fanghao’s enormous wail burst through from the other end of the phone, shaking tears from Qiao Qingyu’s eyes.
“Here,” the reporter held the phone to Qiao Qingyu’s right ear. “Let your mother know you’re safe.”