The weekend after learning about making the New Concept shortlist, the sky was azure blue, the air warm and humid like spring. Qiao Qingyu first told Qiao Lusheng the news, briefly explaining the significance of the New Concept Essay Competition. When asked if winning would add points to her college entrance exam score, she shook her head uncertainly.
“Seems it doesn’t add points anymore these past few years.”
“So it’s just a title,” Qiao Lusheng said. “What’s crucial is writing well on the college entrance exam essay.”
Then he handed his phone to Qiao Qingyu, asking her to report to Li Fanghao. As expected, when Li Fanghao learned it wouldn’t add points, her joyful tone instantly turned cold, saying almost exactly what Qiao Lusheng had said: “What’s crucial is writing well on the college entrance exam essay.”
Qiao Qingyu felt dejected by the lack of enthusiasm: “I know, Mom.”
“What did you write about in your winning article?”
Qiao Qingyu hesitated for a few seconds: “I wrote about family love.”
“Did you write about our family matters?”
“Mom,” Qiao Qingyu lowered her voice, “I wrote about missing Sister.”
Li Fanghao was silent for a few seconds, and when she spoke again, her voice sounded aged: “I see.”
Hanging up the phone, Qiao Qingyu sighed. Outside, the sunshine was brilliant. Qiao Huan, while clearing tables, suggested she take a walk by the river for some fresh air. Qiao Qingyu shook her head at the mention of “riverside”—the old camphor tree would trigger a storm of memories, she needed to stay far from there.
“Then just sit in the shop for a while, relax,” Qiao Huan smiled. “Look how thin you’ve gotten from all that studying.”
Qiao Qingyu accepted her suggestion. Qiao Lusheng had become much more lenient with her, saying nothing when he saw her sitting idly watching the street. After a while, finding it boring, she stood up on her own.
“Dad,” Qiao Qingyu called to Qiao Lusheng in the back kitchen, “I want to go see Clear Lake, is that okay?”
“Go ahead,” Qiao Lusheng reclined in the kitchen’s only chair, eyes half-closed for rest. “Haven’t been to see it since coming to Huanzhou, right? Come back early.”
He didn’t even ask if she was going alone. This trust made Qiao Qingyu feel deeply moved.
“I’m leaving then, Dad.”
“Mm… oh wait,” Qiao Lusheng opened his eyes and stood up from the chair, taking out his phone to hand to Qiao Qingyu. “Take this, in case anything happens, call your Sister Qiao Huan, she’s always here at the shop with me anyway.”
“Okay.”
Walking into the early winter sunshine, Qiao Qingyu thought, so this is how legitimate freedom feels—fulfilling, warm, and peaceful. She gripped the phone, tucked her loose hair behind her ears, and walked briskly past the newsstand at the intersection, not stopping when Mrs. Feng called out to her.
“Where are you going, Qingqing?”
“Clear Lake,” Qiao Qingyu frankly tossed back the two words, not even turning her head.
She was very satisfied with her current hair length, the layered ends just touching her shoulders, looking proper when tied up but not awkward when left down. She preferred wearing it down—partly to feel the warmth gathering at the nape of her neck, and partly because, vaguely, she understood this was her short-lived freedom unique to this special period. When Li Fanghao returned, everything would return to its place, and by then, with only a hundred days left until the college entrance exam, she would certainly be taken to get her hair cut again.
Whether from lack of self-confidence or submission to her mother’s intuition, Qiao Qingyu felt Li Fanghao would detect traces of her “unsettled heart” as soon as she returned.
No—as the bus passed the Huanzhou Gymnasium, Qiao Qingyu thought desperately—it was her overindulgence.
She was grateful for not having close friends; otherwise, anyone could see how distracted she was. After getting off at Clear Lake, she sat numbly on a lakeside bench, only realizing after a long while that her mind contained nothing but Ming Sheng, just as earlier while sitting in the shop watching the street, all she saw was Ming Sheng.
His silhouette blocked others away to monopolize her article on the wall—she had replayed it countless times, mixed with snowflake-like fragments of memories falling one after another. She imagined his inner voice when he saw the article’s title, “I Love You Too,” solemn, profound, with slight surprise and speculation, as if the article was written not for Qiao Baiyu but for him.
Ah, impossible, his mind was clear as a mirror, everything between them had been spelled out clearly, so he wouldn’t have such misunderstandings.
A strange disappointment occupied Qiao Qingyu’s heart. She drooped her powerless shoulders, exhausted by her own alternately rising and falling, constantly fluctuating tangled emotions.
But it was completely impossible not to think of him, especially now, with the high school basketball finals blazing in the city gymnasium, where he was fighting on the court.
The city gymnasium was only one stop from Clear Lake. Thinking this, Qiao Qingyu stood up, leaving the bench.
During the dozen minutes slowly walking toward the city gymnasium, she found ample, rich reasons for this action: Sun Yinglong had encouraged everyone to come to cheer for Second High and Ming Sheng, saying there would be a group photo after winning the championship; Guan Lan had urged her repeatedly to come, sincerely and without ulterior motives, she had no reason to appear so inflexible and unable to adapt; she liked the passionate atmosphere of the court after the finals she would no longer have the chance to experience it up close as someone involved; Li Fanghao wasn’t home, Qiao Lusheng didn’t ask many questions, so going to the gymnasium was safe.
Of course, most importantly, she could blend into the crowd, openly expressing her passion for Ming Sheng, without hiding, without shrinking back, without fear of anyone seeing through her.
Moreover, during the group photo, if Ming Sheng hadn’t come to her side, she could completely cut off her belated longing for him.
Like fireworks—first blazing, then extinguishing.
Just like that—
When she entered the gymnasium, the second half had just begun. The venue was packed, with cheers rising in waves. Qiao Qingyu looked around the back rows but found no empty seats and couldn’t locate Guan Lan, Jiang Nian, and the others, so she had to sit on the steps in the very last row. Looking through the constantly rising and falling small banners and waves of people in the front rows, she searched for two rounds but couldn’t find Ming Sheng on the court.
Puzzled, her heart rising with concern, she asked the nearest unfamiliar girl where Ming Sheng was.
“You also came specially to see Second High’s Ming Sheng, right?” The girl’s face fell, looking both sympathetic and indignant. “We did too, but after watching for less than ten minutes, their school coach took him out!”
“Why?”
“He wasn’t in good form,” another girl leaned over. “Got knocked into too, probably slightly injured.”
“Went to the locker room, lots of people from his class went too,” the first girl added.
“He’ll come back out, right?” the second girl asked.
“Should come back after adjusting his condition,” the first girl said as if comforting Qiao Qingyu. “This is the finals after all! We just need to wait!”
They turned back, chatting among themselves. Qiao Qingyu stood up anxiously, hesitating whether to go to the locker room to check. Was Ming Sheng injured? Was it serious? Was he disappointed and frustrated about not being able to play?
But how to get to the locker room?
Just as she bent down to ask the girl from earlier, that girl suddenly let out a shriek, violently slapping the other girl beside her: “Ah! Ming Sheng!! He’s back out!!”
“Where, where?” the other girl hurriedly craned her neck to ask.
Qiao Qingyu had already seen him. He appeared at the entrance directly opposite her, followed by Sun Yinglong, Guan Lan, Chen Shen, Su Tian, and others. Like last time, he wore a black T-shirt under his loose red basketball jersey, unlike others. Different from last time was the black knee brace on his leg.
Ming Sheng’s reappearance caused a small commotion in the venue, but he seemed not to hear, waving his hand after entering to signal Guan Lan and others to go back, while he ran to the sideline rest area.
After stopping in the rest area, he tilted his head back, slowly turning to face the spectator stands, as if acknowledging the audience but more like searching for something. Qiao Qingyu stood in the rightmost aisle of the farthest row, watching his gaze move toward her direction and stop.
She couldn’t make out his expression. Across such distance, across this noisy sea of people, she felt he was drawing her in.
Qiao Qingyu sat down awkwardly, and Ming Sheng straightened his head, then turned it again, his gaze not curving but shooting directly to her area.
This time his gaze stayed only briefly. Whether it was her imagination or not, Qiao Qingyu thought she saw a smile in the corner of his eye.
Her gaze followed him as he went to the coach’s side to say a few words, then ran to one side of the rest area to begin stretching and warming up, while intently watching the fierce battle on the court before him, as if instantly forgetting her existence. About two minutes later, the referee blew for a timeout, the coach patted Ming Sheng’s back, substituted a player, and sent him onto the court.
The two girls beside her stood up screaming, and the volume in the venue doubled. Qiao Qingyu sat watching him run, dribble, breakthrough, lay up, as if returning to those times when she watched him practicing alone behind the camphor tree through the window glass, her ears silent, her chest beating with the sound of the basketball hitting the ground: thump, thump-thump, thump-thump.
When the final whistle blew, Second High had defeated Clear Lake High School by eighteen points, adding another championship cup, upgrading from last year’s four consecutive championships to five. People from the sidelines rushed onto the court, and Ming Sheng was instantly submerged in the crowd. Beside Qiao Qingyu, the two girls who had been screaming for half the game stood up contentedly.
“I said he’d come back after adjusting his condition!”
“Good thing we didn’t leave, he was like a different person in the second half, heroic!”
“Haha, worth coming~ Excuse me, classmate.”
Qiao Qingyu stood to let them pass, then retreated to the wall by the exit to make way for more people. Logic told her she should follow the crowd leaving the gymnasium, it was time to go home, but her feet wouldn’t lift. While struggling with this, a hurried-looking Guan Lan suddenly appeared in the crowd, and upon seeing her, lit up as if discovering treasure, and gripped her sleeve tightly as if afraid she would escape.
“Great, you’re still here,” she said while pulling Qiao Qingyu against the flow of people. “Everyone’s waiting for you!”
“Why—”
“A’Sheng said you were over here, told me to come get you,” Guan Lan interrupted Qiao Qingyu, turning back to wink at her. “We have to hurry!”
Reaching the courtside, Qiao Qingyu discovered it wasn’t just Class Five, but all Second High seniors who had come to the venue were lined up, about a hundred people, with the seven senior members of the school team surrounded in the middle, Ming Sheng at the very center. As soon as their eyes met, he immediately looked away.
It seemed everyone had been waiting for her. There was a gap among the girls standing in the second row, and Guan Lan pushed her into that gap, then quickly crouched down in the front row herself.
Click, click, click went the camera.
Qiao Qingyu hoped her smile wasn’t too stiff or ugly; at least, she should be worthy of the golden championship cup behind her, and the spirited Ming Sheng holding it.