Perhaps because time accelerates memory, looking back now, it did seem “sudden” as the neighbors in Shunyun and people from their hometown village said—Qiao Baiyu’s passing. Yet at the time, Qiao Qingyu didn’t agree with this word. Qiao Baiyu was hospitalized on the winter solstice before Christmas, and when her parents brought back the urn with her ashes, it was already past the Lantern Festival—nearly two months had passed.
During the first month, Qiao Qingyu not only had to deal with final exams but also took care of Qiao Jinyu in place of their parents, cooking and doing laundry daily. The second month was spent enduring an unusually torturous winter break at their grandparents’ village home. As the family most praised in the village for their strict discipline, harmony, and propriety, every family member had to wear their grief visibly at all times; otherwise, outsiders would consider them heartless. Like all the glum adults, Qiao Qingyu didn’t dare show a single smile throughout the entire winter break, feeling guilty at the slightest hint of relaxation. So, for the 14-year-old Qiao Qingyu in her second year of middle school, those days without her parents felt extremely long.
To this day, Qiao Qingyu still doesn’t know the exact day her sister took her last breath. Her parents never mentioned it, and she dared not ask. After Qiao Baiyu’s death, her name became an unspoken taboo in the family. But for outsiders, it was different—Qiao Baiyu became the Qiao family’s label.
“Yes, the photo taken down from the photo studio was their eldest daughter. She was very beautiful, but soon after going to Huanzhou…” Qiao Qingyu overheard people saying.
“Poor thing. If it weren’t for trying to have a son, old Qiao would still have his iron rice bowl, and his wife could’ve found a job. The three of them would’ve lived much more comfortably than now!” Others commented.
“What man doesn’t like beauty? Even if the eldest daughter didn’t turn out well, with her looks, it would’ve been easy for her to marry a rich man and help support her younger siblings…” Such judgments were not uncommon.
Sometimes adults would stop Qiao Qingyu on her way to or from school, inquiring whether Qiao Lusheng had gone to Huanzhou again to file lawsuits. Apart from brief nods or shakes of her head, Qiao Qingyu didn’t know how to respond to their prying eyes. Occasionally, as she turned away, she would hear whispers like, “That’s the second daughter. She’s pretty too, but standing next to her sister, she’s not as… The second daughter doesn’t need looking after, she’s well-behaved…”
In others’ mouths, she seemed like a dim moon, only existing in the reflected light of her sister’s radiant sun. Qiao Qingyu couldn’t pinpoint when she started minding this, but she had always known the driving force behind her diligent studies: to do what her sister couldn’t.
So she was self-disciplined, sensible, and low-maintenance. In other words, she was boringly well-behaved at school, lacking any personality.
Thinking about Qiao Baiyu’s sudden departure, Qiao Qingyu felt an inappropriate envy. In her memory, Qiao Baiyu had never given their parents peace of mind, and even in death, she went out with a bang, leaving a lasting impact. Though Qiao Qingyu didn’t approve of her sister’s outrageous behavior, she secretly envied Qiao Baiyu’s carefree courage.
Qiao Qingyu was tired of being well-behaved.
She longed to be a person with a distinct personality. Of course, this had to be without angering her parents or affecting her studies.
Tomorrow was the first day of school at an enviable super middle school. It was time to embrace a new life—
Finally, the school began.
Class 5 of the second year was originally Class 6 of the first year, but the humanities students had left, replaced by science students from Classes 3, 7, and 9—the three classes Mingsheng had been in during his first year, which were now dissolved and turned into humanities classes.
Compared to the completely unfamiliar faces, Mingsheng’s arrival excited Class 5 more. Qiao Qingyu felt this was heaven’s favor—she didn’t want to repeat the experience at Shunyun No. 1 Middle School, becoming a topic of classmates’ gossip.
The all-knowing Mrs. Feng calling her “eldest daughter” meant people here knew nothing about Qiao Baiyu. Though Qiao Qingyu felt guilty inside, her desire for a clean slate overshadowed everything. “It was Mom and Dad who actively erased Sister from our lives,” she consoled herself. “Everyone wants to live simply and easily. Dwelling on the past is meaningless, isn’t it?”
So when she made her first friend at school, Jiang Nian, Qiao Qingyu felt justified in following her parents’ example, erasing Qiao Baiyu’s existence in front of Jiang Nian.
“Don’t your parents favor boys over girls?” Jiang Nian was straightforward, asking while chewing her food. “Otherwise, why have your younger brother?”
Qiao Qingyu instinctively defended her parents: “My parents had no choice, but they’re good to both me and my brother.”
“Wasn’t there the one-child policy? How could they have two?” Jiang Nian wondered.
Qiao Qingyu felt uneasy under the questioning—her parents’ preference for sons was undeniable; otherwise, her father wouldn’t have traded his iron rice bowl at a state-owned enterprise for a son.
“I don’t know, but my parents value me more. My brother’s grades are poor,” she answered quickly.
Fortunately, Jiang Nian didn’t dwell on this. She lightly kicked Qiao Qingyu and hunched her shoulders, lowering her excited voice: “Hey, Asheng just glanced back at you.”
Qiao Qingyu knew Mingsheng sat not far behind her to the right. While chatting with Jiang Nian, the group of boys’ lively conversation from that direction had been a fluctuating background noise. She tried to catch Mingsheng’s voice but failed; he seemed to have been silent the whole time. Just as Jiang Nian mentioned Mingsheng looking at her, the background noise suddenly muted, making Qiao Qingyu’s heart leap.
“He’s coming,” Jiang Nian quickly whispered.
A tall figure suddenly plopped down in the empty chair beside Qiao Qingyu, startling her.
It was Mingsheng’s close friend in the class, Ye Zilin, a spoiled rich kid who had been inseparable from Mingsheng these past two days, appearing and disappearing together like conjoined twins.
“New classmate, Qiao-Qing-yu,” Ye Zilin grinned, the flesh on both sides of his round face squishing together, “Would you mind standing up for a moment?”
Qiao Qingyu looked at him, her eyes full of confusion and wariness.
“It’s like this,” Ye Zilin cleared his throat formally, “You see, over there, we seven boys are voting for the class beauty. Right now, it’s three to three, you’re tied with Deng Meixi! Guess who hasn’t voted yet?”
Qiao Qingyu remained silent, feeling inexplicably ashamed.
“Hey, I’ll let you in on a secret,” Ye Zilin leaned in, speaking in a frivolous low voice, “I voted for you.”
Qiao Qingyu unconsciously leaned away.
“Asheng’s the only one left to vote,” Ye Zilin said, throwing a knowing look at Jiang Nian before turning back to Qiao Qingyu, suddenly raising his voice, “Asheng doesn’t know you well yet. Stand up and turn around, let him see you. Smile at him—he likes girls with pretty smiles the most…”
The group of boys behind them burst into uneven laughter. Qiao Qingyu’s ears flushed red as she stiffly turned her head to the other side, showing her displeasure at the insult.
Ye Zilin jumped up, circled to the other side, and plopped down again. Qiao Qingyu quickly turned back, resolutely facing away from him.
“Come on~ New classmate, don’t be like that. I’m here on a mission, give me some face—”
The boys laughed again, with some whistling. The commotion grew, drawing attention from others in the cafeteria.
“You’re crazy!” Jiang Nian cursed angrily. “How bored are you guys!”
Ye Zilin ignored her, continuing to plead with Qiao Qingyu. A boy speaking nicely beside her while she stubbornly turned her head away—the scene looked awkward from any angle. With a buzzing in her ears, the immense sense of humiliation left Qiao Qingyu paralyzed.
“…Think about it, if Asheng votes for you, you’ll be his chosen class beauty. This honor…”
“I don’t want it.”
Ye Zilin was stunned, then changed his expression: “Playing hard to get, huh…”
“I don’t like flowers,” Qiao Qingyu tried to sound calm, “It has nothing to do with Mingsheng, and I don’t need your judgment.”
“Damn! I’ve seen it all now!” Ye Zilin shouted sarcastically. “Who do you think you are!”
At that moment, Qiao Qingyu felt she had taken a wrong turn. Although standing firm in one’s beliefs showed personality, she had been too forward. What was her small self in the face of Mingsheng’s formidable group? Asserting individuality shouldn’t mean antagonizing these people.
Ye Zilin returned to his seat, cursing. Qiao Qingyu continued eating, listening to Jiang Nian’s low words of comfort.
“Ye Zilin is always like this, relying on his family’s money to disrespect others…”
Qiao Qingyu looked up with a weak smile.
“You don’t like flowers? Is that true?” Jiang Nian asked.
Qiao Qingyu let out a deep “Mm” from her throat.
“Why?”
“It’s just,” Qiao Qingyu paused, “I find it superficial, so I can’t bring myself to like it.”
Having hidden Qiao Baiyu’s existence, Qiao Qingyu couldn’t possibly tell Jiang Nian about the flower-related injustice she had experienced. It happened when she had just started her first year of middle school. One day, she returned home to find a beautifully wrapped bouquet of pink roses on her bed. Surely, it was from a boy for Qiao Baiyu, who was bedridden with a severe cold. Seeing Qiao Baiyu sleeping soundly, Qiao Qingyu quietly cradled the roses, lowering her head to inhale their fragrance intently. This scene was witnessed by Li Fanghao, who suddenly burst into the room.
“They’re not my flowers,” Qiao Qingyu dropped the bouquet as if electrocuted. “They’re not mine.”
“They’re not mine either,” Qiao Baiyu’s weak voice came from the upper bunk, surprising Qiao Qingyu.
“I’ve been in bed all day and haven’t gone out,” Qiao Baiyu struggled to sit up. “I wouldn’t dare accept anything from anyone right now.”
“Whose are they then?” Li Fanghao was on the verge of exploding, her sharp gaze darting between the two sisters.
Qiao Qingyu tried to explain, but Qiao Baiyu beat her to it: “They’re not mine. Qingqing, you’re in middle school now, entering puberty. If a boy shows interest in you, you must not soften your heart, understand?”
Qiao Qingyu still vividly remembers her shock at that moment. “I didn’t,” she repeated, biting her lip as tears welled up in her eyes.
She could see Li Fanghao’s dilemma: believing the younger daughter would hurt the older one’s pride, but believing the older one might wrongly accuse the younger. Qiao Baiyu lay back down after speaking, while Qiao Qingyu, full of grievance and anger, pitifully held onto Li Fanghao’s hand, tears streaming down her face.
After a while, Li Fanghao stroked Qiao Qingyu’s head: “Qingqing is sensible. In the future, don’t accept flowers from others. You must be careful about this. For a girl, the most important thing is to maintain your integrity…”
Though the words were sincerely directed at Qiao Qingyu, Li Fanghao’s eyes kept glancing at the upper bunk of the bunk bed. Qiao Qingyu understood that her mother was using this opportunity to educate Qiao Baiyu while pretending to teach her, not wanting to hurt her sister’s self-esteem. Through her tear-blurred vision, Li Fanghao’s opening and closing mouth seemed to exhale cold air, making Qiao Qingyu feel increasingly chilled, from the outside to her very core.
“You’re so unique,” Jiang Nian’s words brought Qiao Qingyu back to reality. “But the way you said that earlier, others might think you’re just sour grapes, doing it on purpose… because Ye Zilin was talking about being the class beauty, not actual flowers.”
Surprised by being called “unique” for the first time, Qiao Qingyu continued candidly: “I don’t like the term ‘class beauty’ or ‘school beauty’ either. It sounds like it’s all about appearance, with no substance.”
Jiang Nian frowned, retorting unhappily: “That’s not true. Our school’s beauty, senior Wang Mumu, isn’t shallow at all. Her grades are excellent. You probably can’t compare to her.”
Qiao Qingyu realized she had been too extreme. She shook her head, trying to shake out the lingering image of Qiao Baiyu’s pretty figure in her mind. “Don’t affect my life,” she warned her sister in her head.
As they walked towards the tray return area, Qiao Qingyu and Jiang Nian happened to be right behind Ye Zilin and his group. The boys walked extremely slowly, loudly discussing a pretty first-year girl named “Tiantian.” When throwing their dirty plates into the plastic bins, they suddenly rushed, creating a cacophony as if trying to drown out all other sounds. Qiao Qingyu frowned in disgust, her gaze wandering to the cafeteria’s glass doors. She spotted Mingsheng already standing there, his lean body in a loose sports shirt casually leaning against the doorframe, head slightly bowed, absorbed in his phone, oblivious to everything around him.
After staring for two seconds, Qiao Qingyu looked away. The sun was directly overhead, bathing him in brightness, yet he seemed cold and aloof, perhaps because other students entering and exiting the cafeteria chose the other glass door. “A sense of distance,” Qiao Qingyu thought, affirming her observation.
This was the second term; the first had been “a sense of superiority.”
After observing Mingsheng for two days, he indeed behaved as his father had described: “lawless.”
He showed up late on the first day of school, in the afternoon, and immediately refused the “class monitor” title assigned by their homeroom teacher, Mr. Sun Yinglong. His demeanor was lazy and unrestrained, making Qiao Qingyu inwardly marvel at Mr. Sun’s patience. He also left early. He slept during English class, disappeared during PE and computer classes, and reportedly played basketball with the school athletes in the gym. He didn’t do homework.
However, after learning about Mingsheng’s grades, Qiao Qingyu felt that “lawless” might be a bit of a misunderstanding. Maintaining a ranking in the top 50 of the grade at Huan No. 2 while not being a bookworm, excelling in calligraphy, painting, basketball, and piano, having impeccable looks that made him universally adored, commanding respect among male students, and coming from a privileged background—what reason was there not to be “arrogant”? Someone outstanding in every aspect had every right to be rebellious.
He not only had everything but could also do as he pleased. Qiao Qingyu envied him from the bottom of her heart.
However, her conclusions of “a sense of superiority” and “a sense of distance” didn’t help Qiao Qingyu capture the essence of Mingsheng’s handwriting.
For the past two nights, she had specifically set aside time to carefully imitate Mingsheng’s characters. The initial strokes needed to be lofty, the final strokes wild, and the whole writing process flowing. But no matter how hard she tried, switching between soft and hard brushes, she couldn’t express that fierce feeling. “Strange,” Qiao Qingyu thought of Mingsheng’s fresh and dazzling image, “he doesn’t look like a villain.”
In her final attempt, the first few characters were passable, but the words “terrifying” looked forced, making the whole paper reveal traces of clumsy imitation.
Qiao Qingyu hoped Mingsheng was a man of his word; otherwise, her secret observation and imitation would seem like she was flattering herself. On the other hand, she hoped Mingsheng wouldn’t be too particular, as no one, including himself, could write characters that were ” the same.”
Before Friday’s PE class, while everyone else had gone to the gymnasium, Qiao Qingyu secretly slipped her rolled-up final product into Mingsheng’s desk. This was the last day of the “one-week” deadline, fulfilling her obligation as promised. The bell for class had already rung as she ran towards the gym, but Qiao Qingyu felt light-hearted and happy. However, as soon as she entered the basketball court in the gym, her soaring mood was abruptly pulled down.
Everyone who had already gathered was staring at her, including Mingsheng, standing to the side and back. When he looked at Qiao Qingyu, there was a strange smile in the corner of his eye, his thoughtful expression identical to how his father had looked at Qiao Qingyu days ago. An internal alarm went off, and Qiao Qingyu jogged to join the formation, her posture tense as if afraid she might slip at any moment.
She stood on the right side of the front row, two people away from Mingsheng in the back right. After the PE teacher explained the key points of dribbling and passing, he told everyone to split up and practice freely in teams. Qiao Qingyu was holding a basketball, having just met Jiang Nian’s gaze not far away, when a voice came from beside her: “Team up with me, Qiao Qingyu.”
Over there, Jiang Nian reluctantly shrank her head and made a “go ahead” gesture. Stiffly turning around, before Qiao Qingyu could open her mouth, Mingsheng had already snatched the basketball from her hands: “Follow me.”
He dribbled the ball out of the crowd, incidentally clearing a path for Qiao Qingyu that drew many sidelong glances. Qiao Qingyu stood frozen, a sense of foreboding preventing her from taking a step.
Mingsheng stopped on the other side of the basketball court.
“Go on, Qiao Qingyu,” Guan Lan, the closest to her, pushed her playfully. “Asheng wants to teach you basketball!”
Compared to the sense of foreboding, the curious gazes around were harder to endure. So Qiao Qingyu steeled herself and ran towards Mingsheng to meet everyone’s expectations, leaving all the excited onlookers behind.
Her premonition soon proved correct.
“Your handwriting is pretty good,” Mingsheng said, tossing the ball to Qiao Qingyu. “It has a bit of my style.”
Before Qiao Qingyu could speak, he languidly added a second sentence: “So, you can do something for me.”
“What?”
“Do my homework for me.”
Qiao Qingyu looked at his unashamed handsome face in disbelief, finally managing to utter: “Why?”
“Because I don’t like doing homework,” Mingsheng answered plainly.
“No.”
“Many people are eager to do my homework for me,” Mingsheng looked down at her condescendingly. “I just don’t approve of their messy handwriting. I’m very picky.”
“I have no obligation to do your homework. You can’t just because…”
“It’s not an obligation, it’s compensation,” Mingsheng coldly interrupted her. “Your hometown sweetheart, He Kai, tore up the sign I wrote and couldn’t replace it with an identical one. You doing my homework will be compensation on his behalf.”
“I wrote it for him. I just put the compensatory writing in your drawer.”
“The same?”
Qiao Qingyu was stumped, her lips trembling slightly with sudden anger.
Ignoring her furious eyes, Mingsheng casually continued: “You doing my homework will be our secret. Congratulations on being privy to my secret.”
“Even you can’t write two identical characters! It’s an impossible task!” Qiao Qingyu stared directly at Mingsheng. “You’re doing this on purpose. It’s too much!”
“Think what you like,” Mingsheng shrugged indifferently. “I advise you to obediently do my homework, or your fate will be worse than He Kai’s.”
“Senior He Kai, he,” Qiao Qingyu paused nervously, “What did you do to Senior He Kai?”
Mingsheng glanced at her sideways, looking impatient: “You can’t help him, but you can help yourself.”
“I said no.”
“If you’re willing to do my homework, I won’t tell anyone about your sister Qiao Baiyu,” Mingsheng turned his head away from Qiao Qingyu. “After all, you consider yourself above others, so you probably don’t want your classmates to know you have a,” he deliberately dragged out his words, pausing meaningfully, “sister who degraded herself and died young from AIDS, do you?”