They didn’t return to the counseling room. Instead, Qiao Qingyu sat with Wang Mumu in the small garden behind the administration building. After saying she “couldn’t stand the sunlight,” Wang Mumu fell silent. She pulled down her sleeves, tidied herself up, carefully wiped away her tears, and then linked arms with Qiao Qingyu, resting her head on her shoulder. They looked like two close friends.
Qiao Qingyu wanted to comfort her but didn’t know where to begin. Time passed quietly until the plump disciplinary teacher suddenly appeared before them.
“Why aren’t you two in class?” he questioned. Seemingly moved by the girls’ somber expressions, his tone softened. “It’s normal to feel down sometimes, but skipping class isn’t right. Head back to your classroom.”
As they walked towards the teaching building, Wang Mumu still clung to Qiao Qingyu’s left arm with her unscarred right arm. Just before parting, Qiao Qingyu awkwardly mumbled something about everything passing, then felt her arm suddenly free as Wang Mumu stopped.
Turning, Wang Mumu smiled brightly. “I’m fine now. Don’t take what happened earlier seriously,” she said lightly as if comforting Qiao Qingyu. “I’m not usually this gloomy!”
“Then why did you…” Qiao Qingyu looked at her skeptically, hesitating to finish her question.
Before she could say “hurt yourself,” Wang Mumu interrupted: “I didn’t do well on the return-to-school exam, and with mock exams coming up, I felt overwhelmed. It’s no big deal; I’ve adjusted now.”
She transformed back into the warm, spring-like Wang Mumu that Qiao Qingyu knew, without a trace of melancholy.
“Teacher Le Fan is very trustworthy,” Wang Mumu said as if remembering her mission. “Talking to the counselor isn’t shameful. Anyone can go; think of her as a diary. You can tell her anything. I can’t spare the time now, but after the college entrance exam, I’ll chat with her too.”
“Then I’ll wait until after your exam, and we’ll go together.”
A flicker of surprise and gratitude crossed Wang Mumu’s eyes. “Okay.”
They smiled at each other as if sealing a secret pact.
Every noon, Qiao Qingyu would spend the long stretch before the first afternoon class in the reading room. The classroom was filled with all things Ming Sheng—either others mentioning him, looking for him, or him joking loudly with the boys in the back. It was overwhelming. Had he always been this lively? Had she not noticed last year because she didn’t pay enough attention? Uncertain and troubled, Qiao Qingyu decided to avoid it altogether.
The library became her sanctuary, with the window seat in the reading room as her paradise. Winter jasmine bloomed on the low wall behind the library. From the second-floor reading room, the overlapping clusters of golden flowers looked like countless soft suns. When no one was around, Qiao Qingyu would dash down from the reading room, books in arms, pacing in front of the flower wall, basking in the brightness and warmth of this small world. Sometimes, she’d embrace the delicate yet resilient branches, burying her face among the blooming flowers, greedily yet carefully breathing in the scent of spring.
Both the books in her hands and the brilliance outside the window helped her temporarily forget Ming Sheng’s voice and eyes. The reading room’s tranquility made it sacred. Day after day, Qiao Qingyu devoutly came here, choosing a magazine and settling by the window, letting her soul be washed by words and spring. Gradually, she found peace and stability. Everything about Ming Sheng became like a smooth stone worn by sea waves—still in her heart but without weight or sharp edges, no longer causing restless pain.
By late March, though the winter jasmine had mostly disappeared, Qiao Qingyu still frequented the library. It became her habit, feeling as if not reading there after lunch was a waste of time. This was despite Sun Yinglong’s opinion that missing out on the school’s vibrant club activities, reading festivals, and choral competitions was the real loss.
Qiao Qingyu appreciated Sun Yinglong’s attempts to help her integrate, but that’s where her feelings ended. She had no interest in group activities, and others showed no interest in her. After several fruitless efforts, Sun Yinglong stopped trying and instead offered sincere advice about her love for solitary library visits.
“Besides reading, you could try writing,” he said with an encouraging smile. “Honestly, your essay ‘The Sorrow We Shouldn’t Forget’ that stirred up your family was impressive. Write whatever you want, freely, like in the New Concept Composition Competition. You have the potential.”
This sparked something in Qiao Qingyu, igniting a hidden fire within her. Because Li Fanghao would always check her belongings, she had never considered writing “casually.” Yet she had always loved writing, dedicating herself to penmanship and copying favorite passages into her notebooks. She suddenly understood why—she had been storing energy and determination for this moment of free writing. Now, with a computer in her room—disconnected from the internet and covered with a tablecloth by Li Fanghao—Qiao Qingyu excitedly realized it could serve as her secret base.
However, she didn’t act immediately. An inexplicable melancholy suppressed her enthusiasm. Back in the confining space at home, she could only mechanically study, study, and study more, unable to muster energy for anything else. Her impulses and aspirations belonged only to the library, that sacred space of free browsing without pressure. Soon, Qiao Qingyu grew to despise her lack of initiative.
Even when her monthly exam scores improved again, ranking tenth in the class, it didn’t alleviate her disappointment in herself.
Her hair had grown a bit, the ends prickling her neck uncomfortably. She couldn’t understand why Sun Yinglong, who had praised her talent, gave the city writing competition spots to Gao Chi, Jiang Nian, and Deng Meixi without even considering her. She disliked how everyone but her seemed happy. The winter jasmine had all withered, her sanctuary lost its color, and a cloud of gloom hung over her.
In contrast, Ming Sheng was in high spirits. Since shaking off the noisy Ye Zilin at the start of the semester, he seemed to have become his spokesperson, making sure everyone noticed him by creating a stir in class with everything he did. Qiao Qingyu observed with detachment that he participated in every school activity possible and didn’t miss out on external events either, flourishing both inside and outside school.
She knew that for the reading festival’s recitation event, Ming Sheng chose to partner with Deng Meixi. During the aerobics competition, he arrived late and left early but didn’t miss Su Tian’s perfect performance. She also knew that during basketball team practice, Ming Sheng no longer angrily stopped girls from taking photos of him with their phones or cameras, so his pictures suddenly proliferated online. Of course, she was aware that on Lei Feng Day, dissatisfied with Mr. Huang, Ming Sheng led many male students in jeering during his assembly speech. In short, he lived freely and happily, in stark contrast to herself.
And he did it all effortlessly. Unlike Qiao Qingyu, who struggled yet remained frustrated.
On the first day of April, the gloom in her heart seemed to drift into the sky. As she went downstairs, a sudden downpour trapped Qiao Qingyu in the stairwell. She ran back to change her shoes, then dashed into the rain with an umbrella. As she sprinted towards the community gate, she heard someone calling her name.
As they approached the school, a voice called out, “Studying hard lately?”
Qiao Qingyu felt a wave of disgust as Mrs. Feng’s face appeared from beneath a large red checkered umbrella.
“Why don’t you come to the shop after school anymore?” Mrs. Feng’s umbrella pressed against Qiao Qingyu’s, her face etched with curiosity. “My, how pale you look! Have you lost weight? Why worry so much at your age? A pretty face won’t stay pretty if you’re always frowning at sixteen or seventeen!”
In the past, Qiao Qingyu would have endured this, but now she retorted, “It’s none of your business.”
“What?”
“Let me tell you,” Qiao Qingyu said, feeling a hint of satisfaction at Mrs. Feng’s shocked expression, “The person you saw that day wasn’t me. I’ve never been to Ming Sheng’s house. You must have been seeing things.”
“When did I ever say you went to Ah Sheng’s house? Which ear of yours heard me say that?”
Qiao Qingyu felt a lump in her throat, barely able to speak. “I’m saying you saw the wrong person. The one in the taxi with Ming Sheng wasn’t me!”
“If it wasn’t, then it wasn’t. Your mother already cleared things up,” Mrs. Feng said dismissively. “If it were true, wouldn’t everyone be gossiping about you by now? I was just confused that one time. Ah Sheng isn’t the type to bring girls home casually. Girls need to protect their reputation, but don’t boys too? Doesn’t Ah Sheng? Don’t his parents? After thinking it through, I realized I must have been mistaken…”
At the intersection, Qiao Qingyu suddenly quickened her pace, leaving the chattering Mrs. Feng behind. The rain pattered heavily on her umbrella as she lowered it, fighting back tears of inexplicable hurt. In the eyes of these worldly people, was she so unworthy of Ming Sheng?
What pained her more was the feeling that this was karmic retribution. Hadn’t she said that memories could be denied and forgotten with a simple turn? Now, as if granting her wish, the heavens made everyone willingly deny that she had spent a night at Ming Sheng’s house, leaving her no choice but to forget. This meant that any connection between her and Ming Sheng was completely severed. She didn’t want it, others wouldn’t allow it, and even fate seemed to affirm her decision.
Another voice called out to her – this time, it was Wang Mumu. Qiao Qingyu rarely encountered her before school, and it felt awkward to meet when her mood suddenly plummeted.
“I wanted to call out earlier, but I saw you with Mrs. Feng and hesitated,” Wang Mumu said playfully, lifting Qiao Qingyu’s umbrella. “What’s wrong? Did Mrs. Feng say something?”
“No,” Qiao Qingyu shook her head, but tears betrayed her, rolling down her cheeks.
“What’s the matter?” Wang Mumu panicked. “Whatever Mrs. Feng said, don’t take it to heart. She likes to dig into others’ troubles. Please don’t believe her…”
Qiao Qingyu tried to stop her sobs, but Wang Mumu’s gentle words only made her cry more. She crouched down, still holding her umbrella. Wang Mumu joined her, gently stroking the back of her head.
In the gloomy weather, a familiar pair of shoes appeared – Li Fanghao had come looking for them.
“I was wondering why you hadn’t come for breakfast,” Li Fanghao said, helping Qiao Qingyu up along with Wang Mumu. “Why are you crying in the street? What happened?”
Unable to speak, Qiao Qingyu heard Wang Mumu politely greet Li Fanghao as “Auntie.” After a brief exchange, Li Fanghao concluded that Mrs. Feng must have upset Qiao Qingyu with her words. After comforting Qiao Qingyu, Li Fanghao invited Wang Mumu to join them for breakfast at the shop. Despite her initial reluctance, Wang Mumu agreed, partly due to Qiao Qingyu’s pleading look.
“Last time, you helped Qingqing and gave her a backpack full of things to ease her suffering. We never properly thanked you,” Li Fanghao said.
“Those things…” Wang Mumu began awkwardly, “You returned them all to me.”
“Returned or not, thanks are still due. It’s rare for Qingqing to make a sincere friend.”
The word “friend” from Li Fanghao’s mouth was a full endorsement of Wang Mumu. The pain of losing Ming Sheng forever lessened instantly, and Qiao Qingyu felt that life wasn’t entirely bleak after all.
“You two girls, both facing difficulties at home, both having to find your way forward,” Li Fanghao said earnestly, “You must help and encourage each other, always moving in a positive direction.”
Qiao Qingyu felt slightly embarrassed that Li Fanghao had included Wang Mumu in her lecture. She didn’t respond, but glanced sideways at Wang Mumu, only to see her smiling brightly and easily.
“Auntie is right,” Wang Mumu said. “We rely on ourselves, so we must keep pushing forward.”