After learning about her shortlisting for the New Concept Writing Competition that weekend, the sky was a deep blue, and the air felt warm and humid like spring. Qiao Qingyu first shared the news with Qiao Lusheng, briefly explaining the significance of the competition. When asked if winning could add points to her college entrance exam score, she shook her head uncertainly.
“It seems they stopped awarding extra points a few years ago,” she said.
“Then it’s just a title,” Qiao Lusheng remarked. “What matters is writing well on the college entrance exam.”
He then handed his phone to Qiao Qingyu, asking her to report the news to Li Fanghao. As expected, upon learning that no extra points would be awarded, Li Fanghao’s initially joyful tone turned cold. She echoed Qiao Lusheng’s words almost verbatim: “What’s crucial is performing well on the college entrance exam essay.”
Feeling deflated, Qiao Qingyu responded dejectedly, “I understand, Mom.”
“What did you write about in your award-winning piece?” Li Fanghao inquired.
Qiao Qingyu hesitated for a few seconds before answering, “I wrote about family love.”
“Did you write about our family?”
“Mom,” Qiao Qingyu lowered her voice, “I wrote about missing my sister.”
Li Fanghao fell silent for a moment. When she spoke again, her voice sounded older: “I see.”
Hanging up the phone, Qiao Qingyu let out a sigh. Outside, the sun shone brightly. Qiao Huan, while tidying up the table, suggested she take a walk by the river to get some fresh air. Qiao Qingyu shook her head at the mention of “riverside” – the old camphor tree would trigger a storm of memories, and she needed to stay away from there.
“Then just sit in the shop for a while and relax,” Qiao Huan said with a smile. “Look at how thin you’ve become from all that studying.”
Qiao Qingyu accepted her suggestion. Qiao Lusheng was more lenient with her now, saying nothing as she sat idly watching the street. After a while, feeling bored, she stood up on her own.
“Dad,” Qiao Qingyu called out to Qiao Lusheng in the kitchen, “I’d like to go see Qinghu Lake. Is that okay?”
“Go ahead,” Qiao Lusheng replied, resting his eyes while leaning on the kitchen’s only chair. “You haven’t been there since coming to Huanzhou, right? Just come back early.”
He didn’t even ask if she was going alone. This trust surprised and delighted Qiao Qingyu.
“I’m off then, Dad.”
“Hmm… oh, wait a second,” Qiao Lusheng opened his eyes and stood up, taking out his phone to hand to Qiao Qingyu. “Take this with you. In case anything happens, call your sister Qiao Huan. She’s always here in the shop with me anyway.”
“Okay.”
Stepping into the early winter sunshine, Qiao Qingyu realized that this was how legitimate freedom felt – fulfilling, warm, and peaceful. She gripped the phone tightly, tucked her loose hair behind her ear, and walked briskly past the newsstand at the intersection, not stopping when Old Feng’s wife called out to her.
“Where are you headed, Qingqing?”
“Qinghu Lake,” Qiao Qingyu replied frankly, not even turning her head.
She was satisfied with her current hair length, the layered ends just touching her shoulders. It looked neat when tied up and not out of place when let down. She preferred wearing it down – both to feel the warmth at the nape of her neck and, subtly, because she understood this was her fleeting taste of freedom during this special period. Once Li Fanghao returned, everything would fall back into place, and with just over a hundred days left until the college entrance exam, she would surely be taken for another haircut.
Whether due to a lack of self-confidence or submission to her mother’s intuition, Qiao Qingyu felt that as soon as Li Fanghao returned, she would detect traces of her “unsettled mind.”
No – as the bus passed the Huanzhou Sports Stadium, Qiao Qingyu thought despairingly – it was her indulgence that was the problem.
She was grateful for not having close friends; otherwise, anyone could have noticed her distraction. After getting off at Qinghu Lake, she sat motionless on a bench by the lake, only realizing after a long while that her mind was filled with thoughts of Mingsheng, just as earlier in the shop when she had been staring at the street but seeing only him.
She repeatedly savored the image of his silhouette as he stood alone by the wall, reading her article, while fragments of memories swirled around her like snowflakes. She imagined him silently mouthing the title, “I love you too,” with a solemn, profound tone tinged with slight surprise and speculation, as if the article were written for him rather than Qiao Baiyu.
But no, that was impossible. He was clear-minded, and they had already spoken frankly about their relationship. He wouldn’t misunderstand.
A strange sense of loss overcame Qiao Qingyu. She slumped her shoulders, exhausted by her own fluctuating emotions and constant inner turmoil.
Yet she couldn’t stop thinking about him, especially now, with the high school basketball finals in full swing at the city stadium where he was competing.
The stadium was just one stop away from Qinghu Lake. With that thought, Qiao Qingyu stood up and left the bench.
During the leisurely fifteen-minute walk to the stadium, she rationalized her decision: Sun Yinglong had encouraged everyone to cheer for Second High and Mingsheng, promising a group photo if they won; Guan Lan had repeatedly urged her to come, sincerely and without ulterior motives; she enjoyed the vibrant atmosphere of the court, and this would be her last chance to experience it up close as an insider; with Li Fanghao away and Qiao Lusheng not asking questions, going to the stadium was perfectly safe.
Most importantly, she could blend into the crowd and freely express her passion for Mingsheng without hiding, retreating, or fearing anyone’s scrutiny.
Moreover, if Mingsheng hadn’t approached her during the group photo, it would definitively ended her belated longing for him.
Like fireworks – a brilliant display, followed by extinction.
And so –
The second half had just begun when she entered the stadium. The place was packed, with waves of cheers rising higher and higher. Qiao Qingyu circled the back rows, finding no empty seats and no sign of Guan Lan or Jiang Nian. She settled on the steps of the last row. Peering through the sea of waving banners and people in front of her, she scanned the court twice but couldn’t spot Mingsheng.
Puzzled and anxious, she asked the nearest unfamiliar girl about Mingsheng’s whereabouts.
“You came specially to see Second High’s Mingsheng too, right?” the girl responded with a dejected face, looking both sympathetic and indignant. “So did we, but after less than ten minutes, their coach subbed him out!”
“Why?”
“He wasn’t in good form,” another girl chimed in, leaning over. “He got knocked around a bit too. Probably injured.”
“He went to the locker room. A lot of his classmates followed,” the first girl added.
“He’ll come back out, won’t he?” the second girl asked.
“I’m sure he will once he’s adjusted,” the first girl said as if reassuring Qiao Qingyu. “This is the finals, after all! We just need to wait!”
They turned away, chatting among themselves. Qiao Qingyu stood up uneasily, debating whether to check on Mingsheng in the locker room. Was he injured? How serious was it? Was he disappointed and frustrated about not being able to play?
But how could she get to the locker room?
Just as she bent down to ask the girl from earlier, a sudden scream erupted: “Ah! Mingsheng!! He’s back!!”
“Where, where?” the other girl asked eagerly, craning her neck.
Qiao Qingyu had already spotted him. He appeared at the entrance directly opposite her, followed by Sun Yinglong, Guan Lan, Chen Shen, Su Tian, and others. Like before, he wore a loose red basketball jersey over a black T-shirt, but this time with the addition of black knee pads.
Mingsheng’s reappearance caused a stir in the stadium, but he seemed oblivious. After entering, he turned back to wave his friends away before jogging to the court’s rest area.
Standing there, he tilted his head up, slowly scanning the audience as if acknowledging them, but more like searching for someone. Qiao Qingyu stood in the rightmost aisle of the farthest row and saw his gaze settle in her direction.
She couldn’t make out his expression. Despite the distance and the noisy crowd between them, she felt as if he were drawing her in.
Qiao Qingyu sat down awkwardly. Mingsheng straightened his head, then turned it again, his gaze cutting directly to her area without wavering.
This time, his glance was brief. Qiao Qingyu wondered if she had imagined the hint of a smile in his eyes.
Her gaze followed him as he approached the coach, exchanged a few words, and then ran to the sidelines to stretch and warm up, all while intently watching the fierce game before him. He seemed to have forgotten her existence in an instant. About two minutes later, the referee called a timeout. The coach patted Mingsheng’s back, subbed out another player, and sent him onto the court.
The two girls beside her jumped up screaming, doubling the noise in the stadium. Qiao Qingyu remained seated, watching him run, dribble, dodge opponents, and shoot. It reminded her of watching him practice alone behind the camphor tree through the window glass not long ago – the world around her silent, her chest echoing with the rhythmic thud of the basketball: thump, thump-thump, thump-thump.
As the final whistle blew, Second High defeated Qinghu Middle School by eighteen points, claiming another championship and upgrading from last year’s four consecutive titles to five. People from the sidelines flooded onto the court, and Mingsheng was instantly engulfed by the crowd. Beside Qiao Qingyu, the two girls who had been screaming for half the game stood up, satisfied.
“See? I said he’d come back once he adjusted!”
“Good thing we didn’t leave. He was like a different person in the second half, absolutely brilliant!”
“Haha, it wasn’t a wasted trip~ Excuse me, could you let us through?”
Qiao Qingyu stood to let them pass, then retreated to the wall by the exit to make way for more people. Logic told her to follow the crowd out of the stadium – it was time to go home – but her feet wouldn’t move. As she struggled with indecision, a hurried-looking Guan Lan suddenly appeared in the crowd. Upon seeing Qiao Qingyu, Guan Lan’s face lit up as if she’d discovered a treasure. Fearing Qiao Qingyu might escape, she grabbed her sleeve tightly.
“I’m so glad you’re still here,” she said, pulling Qiao Qingyu against the flow of people. “Everyone’s waiting for you!”
“Why-“
“Ah Sheng said you were over here and told me to get you,” Guan Lan interrupted, winking at her. “We need to hurry!”
Reaching the court, Qiao Qingyu realized it wasn’t just Class 5, but all the Second High seniors present – over a hundred people – lined up in formation. The seven senior members of the school team were surrounded in the center, with Mingsheng in the very middle. When 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. Guan Lan pushed her into that space before quickly crouching down in the front row.
Click, click, click went the cameras.
Qiao Qingyu hoped her smile wasn’t too stiff or unattractive. At the very least, she wanted to look worthy of the golden championship trophy behind her and the triumphant Mingsheng holding it.