Qiao Qingyu nodded in agreement once more. “Mm-hmm.”
“Are you angry?” Wang Mumu lowered her eyes. “It’s like I stole your…”
“No,” Qiao Qingyu interrupted, “I’m not angry.”
“Really?” Wang Mumu looked up.
Her cautious expression and the redness she was struggling to hold back in her eyes made Qiao Qingyu’s heartache. “Really,” Qiao Qingyu leaned forward, embracing her tightly again. “I’m not angry at all. What you did was very wise.”
Tears began to flow down Wang Mumu’s cheeks.
“He loves you,” she choked out, stroking the back of Qiao Qingyu’s head like an older sister. “Truly and deeply.”
Qiao Qingyu pulled her closer, hugging Wang Mumu even tighter. “Let’s both forget about him, okay?”
“I feel awful,” Wang Mumu sobbed. “It seems like whatever I do is wrong… I urged you to reject him, hurting him so deeply, but if I help him, I’ll end up hurting you…”
“Everything you did before was right,” Qiao Qingyu gently patted her back. “From now on, let’s not worry about him anymore, okay?”
Wang Mumu choked out a faint “okay” through her tears.
After calming down a bit, Qiao Qingyu led Wang Mumu to sit in front of the computer. She turned on the machine and reinserted the DVD of “Migrating Birds.” Her actions were unhesitating and silent, stubbornly believing that what gave her strength would surely give Wang Mumu strength too. However, as soon as the image appeared, Wang Mumu paused it.
“I’ve seen this before,” she smiled apologetically at Qiao Qingyu. “And I don’t have time to watch it now.”
Without a word, Qiao Qingyu obediently removed the disc. She then opened a document from a folder and softly asked Wang Mumu to take a look.
“It’s for you,” she said, slightly embarrassed.
“Like the anonymous one published in the school paper last time?” Wang Mumu asked, a smile spreading across her face.
“You knew that was mine?”
“Of course. Even Ah Sheng could tell,” Wang Mumu quickly stuck out her tongue. “You were writing about me. How could I not recognize it?”
“Today’s isn’t about you, but,” Qiao Qingyu hastily and awkwardly added, “it’s written for you.”
They sat side by side as they read. Wang Mumu linked her arm with Qiao Qingyu’s and rested her head on her shoulder.
“You should submit this for publication,” she said softly after finishing. “Don’t let your talent be buried in this dark, suffocating cage.”
“It’s enough that you’ve seen it,” Qiao Qingyu replied.
“I have,” Wang Mumu suddenly smiled and gently tapped Qiao Qingyu’s nose. “Thank you.”
As an exam venue, No. 2 High School needed to be cleared before the college entrance exams. The last self-study period on Friday afternoon was reserved for students to tidy their desks and clean the classroom. The school had opened two large lecture halls as temporary storage for first and second-year students’ books. Qiao Qingyu blended into the surging crowd, making two trips between the lecture hall and the teaching building. After she sat down following her second return, Sun Yinglong called out to her.
“Help the duty students take down the posters on the back wall.”
Guan Lan was already at work, standing on tiptoe to remove the course schedules from the top of the bulletin board. Qiao Qingyu went over to assist her.
“Thanks,” Guan Lan smiled politely at her, then pointed to the class motto at the very top. “Why don’t you take that down too? I’m too lazy to get a chair… Be careful not to tear it. If you don’t damage the four corners, you can peel it off in one go.”
Qiao Qingyu nodded. The class motto was a light blue strip of paper that read “Unite and Strive, Forge Glory” in Ming Sheng’s handwriting. Unlike other notices that required frequent updates, this one was affixed with double-sided tape instead of clear tape. Qiao Qingyu stood on her toes, testing each corner of the paper until she found a starting point. Just as she relaxed, there was a ripping sound – the paper had torn.
“Oh no, I forgot! They added double-sided tape in the middle too,” Guan Lan exclaimed, hitting her forehead in frustration. “You didn’t notice the tape in the center?”
Qiao Qingyu shook her head, suddenly feeling uneasy as she recalled how Ming Sheng had confronted He Kai for tearing the paper.
“Well, it’s done now. Let’s just continue,” Guan Lan sighed. “As long as it comes off in one piece, it’s fine.”
But it wasn’t easy. The small section of double-sided tape in the middle seemed determined to keep the character “forge” stuck to the bulletin board. Even with Guan Lan standing on a chair to help, they made no progress.
Ming Sheng slipped in through the back door, quickly glancing at them before pulling out a chair less than two meters away and sitting down with his back to them.
Guan Lan, holding the tattered class motto, muttered a soft “damn” that Qiao Qingyu barely caught.
“I’m sorry,” Qiao Qingyu said instinctively.
“Hey, why are you apologizing to me?” Guan Lan laughed. “I don’t mind.”
“I’ll go explain,” Qiao Qingyu gestured helplessly towards Ming Sheng’s back. “I tore it. It’s not your fault.”
Guan Lan’s eyes widened. “Why do you need to explain?”
“Won’t he be very angry?”
Guan Lan’s eyes grew even wider, looking at Qiao Qingyu as if she were some strange creature. Then she giggled softly and said, “It’s Deng Meixi who wants it. Why are you being so funny?”
“Oh.”
Guan Lan then looked at her sympathetically, leaning in close to mouth silently but kindly, “He’s not actually that scary. Relax a bit.”
I know he’s not scary, Qiao Qingyu answered in her heart. To others, it seemed Ming Sheng disdained her, and reason told her to disdain Ming Sheng. It was fine this way.
Qiao Qingyu returned to her seat, working on homework while waiting for Li Fanghao to pick her up after class. Many students had already left after moving their belongings, and the classroom gradually quieted. As the end of class approached, Qiao Qingyu looked up from her physics problems and surveyed the empty classroom, suddenly feeling inexplicably dejected.
She hated keeping herself isolated. Before coming to No. 2 High School, she had longed to integrate into the collective. Now, with the second year of high school ending, her world felt increasingly hollow. Lately, she felt completely disconnected from her surroundings. Wang Mumu was busy preparing for exams and hadn’t been around, school activities had ceased due to the upcoming college entrance exams, and Mingsheng… Qiao Qingyu realized Mingsheng had been quiet for a long time.
It seemed as if his solo performance at the last arts festival had drained all his energy. Since then, he had become silent and aloof, spending most of his time in the classroom except when playing basketball, rarely making a sound amidst the laughter of the boys in the back row.
Initially, he told others he felt pressured due to declining grades. However, even after jumping back to second in the class and tenth in the grade during monthly exams, he still showed no signs of relaxing. Chen Shen joked that he was also preparing for the college entrance exams, while Sun Yinglong approved, encouraging everyone to follow Mingsheng’s example and enter exam preparation mode early.
Even though he wouldn’t be taking the college entrance exams.
Thinking about Mingsheng flying across the ocean in a year left Qiao Qingyu feeling hollow as if her heart had been physically torn out. His song from the stage echoed in her mind: “It was just a game, just a dream.” Strangely, although she hadn’t wanted to remember that scene, now every detail of Mingsheng’s slightly stiff movements and awkward gestures on stage played back in slow motion. His voice, mature for his age, sang with a uniquely youthful depth that captivated the soul. Qiao Qingyu remembered every word.
“Don’t say whether you’re willing or not, I won’t care about it anymore. It was just a game last night. Even without you now, I’m still myself. Even without you still, I remain who I am.”
He’s let go, Qiao Qingyu told herself. It wasn’t sung for me, but a farewell to his feelings.
She felt a strange resentment and dissatisfaction with herself—how could she only realize this now?
But soon, she calmed down. It’s fine, she thought. He can take it and leave it. From now on, we’ll be strangers, each living our own lives.
As the bell rang, few people remained in the classroom. Qiao Qingyu stuffed her remaining books into her backpack, which felt heavier than ever. She mechanically dragged her feet towards the school gate, her mind in a daze, feeling light and empty, as if floating in a vacuum. Only the struggling sound of her heart filled her chest, suffocating and uncomfortable. Outside the gate, at the flower bed where Li Fanghao usually waited, she didn’t see her mother but an unexpected figure: Qiao Dayong.
Her heart jolted, her first thought being that something might have happened to Li Fanghao.
“Qingqing!” Qiao Dayong shouted in the Shunyu dialect, charging towards her like a bull. “I almost didn’t recognize you with your haircut!”
Qiao Qingyu nodded awkwardly in response. Qiao Dayong was a genuine farmer, the least refined person in Nan Qiao Village. His stocky build and soil-dark skin, coupled with clothes that looked like he’d just come from the fields, made him stand out at the No. 2 High School gate, drawing sideways glances from departing students.
“Qingqing!” His voice was loud and coarse, attracting even more attention. “You little brat! Did I use your money to buy a wife? Taking advantage of my illiteracy! Talk about your own family’s disgusting affairs if you want, but why bring up my wife? I only found out later that people were insulting me online, calling me a wife-buyer! I didn’t steal or rob anyone, I spent my own money!”
He berated her in dialect, pointing at her nose, spittle flying.
“I’m here just to scold you,” Qiao Dayong stepped forward as Qiao Qingyu retreated until her backpack pressed against the electric gate. “Let me tell you, don’t overstep your bounds. A little girl like you has no business meddling in my affairs! You messed with your brother’s wedding invitations, deliberately insulting me in writing, so I’m here to insult you! Let you taste some humiliation too! If I lived nearby, I’d have come to scold you earlier, I’d come to your school every day to scold you…”
People had started to gather, keeping their distance as curiosity and excitement spread among the students. They made Qiao Qingyu feel like a monster. She remembered Aunt Qin’s eyes, enveloped in flames, transparent yet crazed, gleaming brightly. She wished she could turn into a fireball and perish with Qiao Dayong. But she just stood there, bewildered, desperate, helpless, not daring to breathe, as more and more students gathered to watch.
The security guard and Li Fanghao appeared simultaneously. The guard dispersed the crowd while Li Fanghao immediately began arguing with Qiao Dayong.
“Make way!” the guard shouted. “Don’t block the school gate! Student, move aside, a car is coming!”
Qiao Qingyu snapped back to reality, straightening up from the electric gate. She let Li Fanghao pull her aside, and their argument with Qiao Dayong escalated in volume. Though the crowd had dispersed, the stares only intensified.
Qiao Qingyu turned her head to the side, towards the area the guard had cleared.
She saw the electric gate open, and a black Mercedes slowly drove out. As the long car passed by her, the open rear window gradually rose, hiding Mingsheng’s motionless profile.
He was noble and cold, his gaze fixed straight ahead.