No wonder the classroom was so quiet. As people noticed Qiao Qingyu’s return, many turned to look at her and Li Fanghao with complex expressions. Qiao Qingyu recognized those looks—they were viewing her mother as if she were a madwoman. She couldn’t blame them; her mother indeed was one.
Staring at the back of Li Fanghao’s head, Qiao Qingyu took a deep breath and moved forward, but something stopped her. Looking down, she saw Ming Sheng’s arm. He had turned towards her, his face unusually serious as he shook his head as if saying, “Don’t go.”
Qiao Qingyu lowered her raised foot, gazing at Ming Sheng nervously, trying to glean more information from his eyes. Just then—
“Qingqing!”
Ming Sheng’s hand retracted as if shocked. Simultaneously, Qiao Qingyu saw Li Fanghao spring up and charge towards them.
“What were you just doing?!”
As she approached, Li Fanghao pointed at Ming Sheng with a red booklet. Upon closer inspection, Qiao Qingyu realized it was her New Concept English first prize certificate.
“What were you doing to my daughter?!”
Her voice thundered, causing everyone in the classroom to hold their breath.
“Nothing,” Ming Sheng replied calmly, straightening up and opening a book.
“Don’t think I’m afraid just because your family has money and connections,” Li Fanghao reached the last row, leaning over Chen Shen to rap Ming Sheng’s desk with the red certificate. “You still have designs on my daughter, don’t you?!”
The air grew frighteningly still.
“Yes.”
“I’ve warned you before if you bully her—”
“I have no intention of bullying her.”
“Then what did you mean by touching her just now?! You—”
“Mom!” Qiao Qingyu rushed over to grab Li Fanghao’s flailing hand. “Mom! You’ve misunderstood!”
“Didn’t you hear him admit he has bad intentions? Are you stupid?!”
“I—”
“Are all my daughter’s fools?! Huh?! So easily deceived?! Do you know what happened to your sister—”
“Mom!” Qiao Qingyu desperately shouted, interrupting Li Fanghao. “This is the classroom! If you want to scold me, let’s go home!”
“HAh classroom,” Li Fanghao stumbled back two steps, surveying her surroundings. Suddenly, she hurled the certificate at Qiao Qingyu, hitting her painfully in the chest. “Afraid of embarrassment? Weren’t you afraid when you spread our family business? Secretly going to Shanghai for a competition, conspiring with your father, teachers, and classmates to deceive me!”
So this was about that, Qiao Qingyu realized. She must have found the “contraband” at Qiao Huan’s house.
“The whole world is against me! My most trusted daughter is the best at deceiving me! All of you, lying to me!” Li Fanghao continued to rage, her hands trembling as she pulled a transparent trophy from her bag. She stepped forward, about to smash it down on Qiao Qingyu.
But there was no pain—Ming Sheng had stood up to shield her.
Over Ming Sheng’s shoulder, Qiao Qingyu saw Li Fanghao step back in surprise, then adopt an even more vicious expression as she lunged for a second strike. Qiao Qingyu used all her strength to push Ming Sheng away, falling to the ground herself. She scrambled to her mother’s feet, tightly hugging her legs. “Mom! If you hit me again, I’ll jump from the corridor! You’ll lose your only daughter!”
Li Fanghao’s hand froze mid-air. At that moment, Teacher Sun Yinglong appeared at the classroom’s back door.
Suddenly, Li Fanghao burst into loud sobs.
“Mom,” Qiao Qingyu stood up and embraced her trembling mother. “Mom, don’t worry, I won’t…”
She supported the unsteady Li Fanghao, struggling to lead her out of the classroom under Sun Yinglong’s concerned gaze. Seeing classmates constantly looking back, Sun Yinglong gestured for Qiao Qingyu to take Li Fanghao to the stairwell corner, away from prying eyes. As she tightly gripped her mother’s limp arm and headed towards the stairs, she heard Ming Sheng’s voice from the back door.
“If I find out anyone is spreading or joking about this incident,” his tone was calm yet authoritative, like a menacing lion, “I’ll make sure they regret it.”
The coldness and threat in his last words were frightening, reminiscent of the ominous “horrifying consequences” once posted beneath the ancient camphor tree.
The next day, Qiao Qingyu returned to school, relieved to find everything in the classroom seemingly back to normal, as if everyone had collectively lost their memory. During lunch, Guan Lan told countless jokes, and no matter how poor they were, Deng Meixi laughed appreciatively, making Qiao Qingyu feel grateful and moved. After the meal, Guan Lan suggested visiting the forsythia again, saying she had brought a camera, but Qiao Qingyu shook her head.
“I want to talk to Teacher Le Fan,” she said honestly, looking at her two concerned friends. “I want to ask about my mother’s condition and see what I can do.”
Just like last time, Le Fan opened the door with a warm smile. She poured Qiao Qingyu a glass of warm water and sat in the armchair diagonally across from her. She reminisced about Qiao Qingyu’s previous visit with Wang Mumu, creating a casual atmosphere.
“I’ve read all your writings—your New Concept essays, anonymous school newspaper submissions, and last year’s plea for your sister,” Le Fan said with admiration and encouragement. “You’re an insightful child.”
“My mother doesn’t like me writing these things,” Qiao Qingyu responded wistfully, opening up the conversation.
She shared a great deal. South Qiao Village, Shun Yun, Chaoyang New Village; Qiao Baiyu, Aunt Qin, Li Fanghao; AIDS, sleeping pills. She recalled Li Fanghao’s gentleness when she was young, the extreme control after Qiao Baiyu’s death, and the changes after her six-month absence. She also mentioned her unspoken thoughts about Qiao Jinyu and how mentioning suicide would always bring Li Fanghao back to her senses, no matter how frantic she was. Finally, she asked Le Fan if she should take Li Fanghao to see a psychologist.
Le Fan nodded, “Yes. Your mother likely has severe depression and has shown suicidal tendencies. The earlier she receives treatment, the better. Counseling alone might not be enough; medication may be necessary.”
Qiao Qingyu covered her eyes, tears seeping through her fingers. “Why didn’t I realize this sooner…”
“You’ve done exceptionally well,” Le Fan sat beside her, placing a warm hand on her shoulder. “Child, you’ve managed so much pressure, not only taking care of yourself but also helping your family. That’s truly remarkable.”
Qiao Qingyu sobbed. After a while, she composed herself and hesitantly asked if seemingly carefree people could also suffer from depression.
“Of course. Everyone hides their true emotions,” Le Fan nodded. “Not showing negative emotions doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”
Qiao Qingyu stared at a sunlit potted plant nearby. After a moment, she softly broke the silence: “Teacher Le Fan, I feel my sister died by suicide.”
Le Fan responded with an unsurprised “Oh.”
“In my memory, she became very reckless in middle school, completely different from her elementary school self,” Qiao Qingyu said. “How could someone change so suddenly? Now I think she was self-destructing, giving up on herself.”
“Your sister was just entering puberty when she experienced such trauma,” Le Fan sighed gently. “She was still a child. In a child’s world, adults are everything. If adults say she’s wrong or dirty, she’ll believe she’s fallen, tainted. This can lead to self-doubt, fundamentally negating her sense of self-worth.”
“Last year, when you exposed your family’s situation, it caused quite a stir. I feel the public’s reaction must have been hard on you,” Le Fan continued. “But you should believe that family trauma is like a physical wound. Exposing it brings pain, but it’s the first step towards healing. Ignoring it won’t help.”
Thinking of Li Fanghao, Qiao Qingyu felt a wave of gloom: “My sister can never come back, and I feel my mother will never return to her old self either.”
“Often, the goal of treatment isn’t to forget pain, but to learn how to live with it,” Le Fan spoke softly. “Don’t become a slave to the pain.”
“Before, thinking of my sister made me angry. Now it makes me sad,” Qiao Qingyu lowered her eyes dejectedly. “I feel this sadness will follow me for life.”
“Do you want to get rid of this sadness?”
“No,” Qiao Qingyu shook her head firmly. “I’d have to forget her to do that, and I don’t want to forget her.”
Le Fan smiled gently, her loving gaze full of encouragement and comfort: “Life is long. You only need to follow your heart. The rest, leave it to time.”
After leaving the counseling room, Qiao Qingyu didn’t return directly to the teaching building. Instead, she turned into the wisteria corridor beside the administration building. Only a few clusters of wisteria flowers had bloomed overhead, embedded in the river of green leaves, presenting a lonely, scattered beauty. Early blooming meant early withering—Qiao Qingyu looked up at them, allowing a faint melancholy to wash over her. In her peripheral vision, she noticed a tall, thin figure slowly approaching.
Suddenly, she wanted to flee, but her feet felt like lead, unable to move.
Ming Sheng walked up to her and sat down on a bench at the side of the corridor.
Qiao Qingyu glanced at him quickly: “Why are you here?”
“I’ve been waiting for you downstairs.”
Being alone with Ming Sheng already made Qiao Qingyu uncomfortable. Add to that the vivid memory of Li Fanghao berating him in class yesterday, and she felt even more out of place.
“When my mom hit you with the trophy, did it hurt?”
“Are you going to apologize again?” Ming Sheng smiled. “That trophy of yours is quite hard.”
Qiao Qingyu felt deeply apologetic: “It hurt, didn’t it?”
“It didn’t.”
“You’re lying.”
“It didn’t hurt.”
“Where did it hit you?”
As soon as she asked, Qiao Qingyu tensed up. She watched as Ming Sheng stood up, took a step closer, and gently tapped his left chest with two fingers: “Here.”
Qiao Qingyu’s ears turned slightly red: “I’m sorry.”
“I told you not to say that.”
For a moment, both were silent. In the uncomfortable quiet, Qiao Qingyu started walking towards the teaching building, with Ming Sheng following closely behind, maintaining a one-step distance—it was the first time they had walked together like this on campus. After passing the assembly square, unable to bear the curious or excited glances cast their way, Qiao Qingyu broke into a run as they passed between the first and second-year buildings.
Fortunately, Ming Sheng didn’t follow.
But upon entering the third-year building, Qiao Qingyu stopped at the staircase landing.
Half a minute later, Ming Sheng appeared. As if to get back at her, he calmly walked past her without stopping.
“Hey!” Qiao Qingyu had to call out.
“What is it?” Ming Sheng drawled from above, turning to look down at her with a suppressed smile.
“Can I have Dr. Lin’s phone number?”
The playful smile vanished, replaced by a serious expression.
“I want to persuade my mom to see her.”
Ming Sheng didn’t nod immediately. Instead, he walked down with a grave expression, making Qiao Qingyu inexplicably nervous. Stopping in front of her, he said, “Of course you can.”
“But I think you should go first. Would you be willing?” he asked, somewhat cautiously.
“Do you think I need to see a psychologist too?”
“No,” Ming Sheng shook his head, his voice unusually gentle. “It’s because your sister once visited Dr. Lin.”
Qiao Qingyu looked up in surprise.
“I asked,” Ming Sheng gazed at her, his eyes full of sympathy. “There’s a recording of her session.”
The day they went to Dr. Lin’s studio was a Sunday, the day before Qingming Festival. Qiao Lilong had insisted on returning to South Qiao Village for tomb-sweeping the next day, so Qiao Jinyu had to accompany him. Qiao Huan was also returning to her hometown for two days, leaving only Qiao Lusheng and Li Fanghao at the shop. Before leaving, Qiao Qingyu made an excuse about going to the library. Li Fanghao’s gaze was penetrating, as if she saw through the lie, but said nothing.
“Go ahead,” Qiao Lusheng decided. “Come back early.”
Dr. Lin’s studio, called the Heart Whisper Cottage, was located in a low-rise office building by Clear Lake. Qiao Qingyu had researched online beforehand, learning that Dr. Lin was a high school classmate and longtime friend of Ming Sheng’s father, Wen Qiuxin. She had not only founded Heart Whisper Cottage but had also written several books, earning a reputation in her field. Qiao Qingyu felt nervous on the way, but seeing Ming Sheng’s smiling face at the building entrance suddenly calmed her.
“How did you know my sister had been here?” she asked Ming Sheng as they entered.
“I know more than you imagine.”
In the elevator, he added, “How could I stand by and do nothing about something you care so much about?”
“You’re willing to talk to your dad now?”
“I’ve been talking to him for a while.”
Ming Sheng gave Qiao Qingyu a reproachful look, with an expression that said “What else could I do?”: “Last year, I called Sister Mumu, wanting you to come see Dr. Lin yourself.”
“Oh,” Qiao Qingyu realized. “I thought you believed I had psychological issues, so that’s why…”
Ming Sheng smiled slightly: “That was just an excuse I gave Sister Mumu. If you had called Dr. Lin then, you could have learned the truth about your sister earlier… but you didn’t.”
“Mm,” Qiao Qingyu felt deeply touched and explained softly, “I don’t need psychological counseling.”
“You’re an unyielding warrior, and I greatly admire that,” Ming Sheng’s clear eyes gazed at her. “But seeking psychological help isn’t something to be ashamed of. Of course, I also think you don’t need it. Sister Mumu probably needs it more…”
The elevator doors opened. He stood sideways, holding the door with his arm to let Qiao Qingyu exit first, then followed.
“Um,” he suddenly seemed flustered, “There’s nothing between Sister Mumu and me, please don’t misunderstand… Her father was hospitalized last year, I visited three times, but that’s it. Yes, our family did help them, but…”
Ming Sheng’s nervous, somewhat incoherent explanation made Qiao Qingyu smile: “It’s okay, I don’t misunderstand.”
“Then why did you write ‘I Heard a Hundred Times’ last year to tease me?”
Perhaps because Qiao Qingyu was too quick to agree, Ming Sheng sounded a bit dissatisfied.
“You could tell I wrote that?”
“Of course. I’ve read your writing countless times,” Ming Sheng’s tone was both proud and aggrieved. “Did you think anonymity would be enough?”
“That article was just a product of my emotions at the time,” Qiao Qingyu stopped walking to explain seriously. “I’m a very rational person.”
“What emotions?”
For some reason, Qiao Qingyu’s face suddenly flushed. She didn’t want to answer this question, so she pretended not to hear and continued walking.
“What emotions?” Ming Sheng persisted.
“I forgot.”
“Jealousy?”
This was unbearable. Even worse, hearing these two embarrassing words, she didn’t dare to glare at him. Fortunately, a few seconds later, they were standing outside the glass door of “Heart Whisper Cottage.”
Ming Sheng stepped forward, his chest brushing Qiao Qingyu’s shoulder as he pushed open the heavy glass door.
“Ah Sheng,” Qiao Qingyu turned to look at him, “Thank you for bringing me here.”
“Don’t always say such formal things,” he responded gently. “Just remember to find me when you need to cry.”
Dr. Lin was amiable and didn’t say much. After a brief introduction from Ming Sheng, she led Qiao Qingyu to a meeting room, inserted a CD into the computer, pressed play, and left Qiao Qingyu alone.
Qiao Qingyu had expected to cry while listening to the recording, but she hadn’t anticipated that tears would start flowing the moment she heard Qiao Baiyu’s voice.
“Hello, doctor. I’m Qiao Baiyu.”
So polite, so cautious. She felt as if she were sitting across from Qiao Baiyu, transcending time.
“I’ve been very troubled lately, always thinking about death, especially at night. When it gets dark, I become very scared… I’m afraid to sleep because I have dreams, dreams about my childhood… I’m running on the mountain, so happy, then my brother catches me, says he loves me, hugs and kisses me, lays me on the grass, unties my skirt…”
“I felt torn apart. The pain… I still remember it. I loved him deeply, and I still do. But I knew we could never be together; it was against moral and ethical principles. Perhaps I died after falling in love with him, after terminating our unborn child. Am I right? The person I am now isn’t me anymore. How could this tainted body be mine? No wonder he won’t even look at me now…”
“I’ve always felt I should have died earlier. In recent years, my disobedience has brought shame to my parents and siblings. They’ve been so good to me, never scolding or criticizing. My parents always save the best for me, yet I’m still unsatisfied. Why am I never content? I’m so greedy… I’m a filthy person. It would be better if I died. Then my parents would have less burden, and my sister wouldn’t have to wear my old clothes anymore. I truly deserve to die…”
No, sister. That’s not true.
“I thought living to twenty was enough,” Qiao Baiyu’s voice rasped from the player. “But my mom read my diary and discovered what I’d written. She was worried and said I had psychological issues. So I came to see a doctor to ease her concerns.”
Then, Dr. Lin’s voice came through. Under her guidance, Qiao Baiyu detailed her past experiences. Many times, Qiao Qingyu heard her mention herself, calling her “lovely sister” and “sensible sister.” When discussing the incident where Qiao Qingyu was wrongly accused of receiving roses, Qiao Baiyu’s voice filled with shame: “I hope my sister doesn’t blame me. I just couldn’t bear to see Mom’s worried face. Seeing her concern for me made me inexplicably angry.”
“I don’t blame you,” Qiao Qingyu whispered. Before her eyes, Qiao Baiyu’s face appeared, radiant and flawless, transforming into white wings in her tear-blurred vision, then vanishing with her falling tears.
After the player fell silent, Qiao Qingyu sat for a long while until Dr. Lin led Ming Sheng into the reception room. She conversed briefly with Qiao Qingyu before taking the disc and leaving them alone. Noticing Qiao Qingyu’s unusual demeanor, Ming Sheng opened his mouth to speak but hesitated, afraid of disturbing her. Seeing his awkward stance, Qiao Qingyu smiled gently.
“I’ve already cried.”
“I can tell.”
Qiao Qingyu stood up. “Let’s go.”
On their way out, Ming Sheng followed silently behind her. As they exited the office building, Qiao Qingyu gazed at the setting sun at the end of the road. She turned to ask Ming Sheng if he knew exactly how Qiao Baiyu had passed away.
“Well,” Ming Sheng hesitated, “Haven’t your family members told you?”
“It was suicide, wasn’t it?”
The sunset tinged Ming Sheng’s eyes a deep gold as he slowly nodded.
“How did she do it?”
“Do you need to know the details?”
“Yes.”
Ming Sheng’s chest heaved as he exhaled deeply. “Paraquat.”
“The pesticide?”
“Yes. She brought it from her hometown and kept it with her.”
Paraquat. Such a cruel name. Qiao Qingyu felt a chill run through her.
“First, she had emergency surgery for acute appendicitis at Weiai Hospital. By the time your parents arrived, the surgery was already done. For some reason, your sister insisted on getting an HIV test that day. When it came back positive, she drank the paraquat that night while your parents were away,” Ming Sheng explained, watching Qiao Qingyu’s expression closely. “By the time the hospital staff found her, she was almost gone. They pumped her stomach at Weiai, then transferred her to Provincial Hospital No. 1. She lingered in the ICU for half a month before passing away.”
The word “lingered” struck a chord with Qiao Qingyu.
“Was she in pain when she died?”
Ming Sheng looked at her, his eyes gentle and profound. “According to my father, your sister remained conscious and was determined to go, but your parents wouldn’t agree. They had the hospital do everything possible to save her…”
“Even if they had saved her, there would have been lasting effects, right?”
Ming Sheng gazed deeply into Qiao Qingyu’s eyes. “Half a bottle of paraquat… Even with their best efforts, they couldn’t have saved her.”
“My sister must have suffered terribly in her final moments.”
Ming Sheng remained silent.
“I think your grandfather was very wise and fortunate,” Qiao Qingyu turned to face Ming Sheng. “He wanted to leave this world with dignity, and he succeeded. How many people in this world have no control over their life and death?”
She turned back to the sunset.
“Qiao Qingyu,” Ming Sheng’s voice drew closer, “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine.” Qiao Qingyu faced the setting sun, blinking back tears before turning with a faint smile. “Thank you.”
“You can bring your mother anytime.”
“Mm. I was just thinking,” Qiao Qingyu looked back at the sunset, “These next couple of days, while my grandfather is away, it might be best to admit my mother to a hospital for treatment.”
“Treatment?”
“The Ninth Hospital. I’m not entirely sure, but I can’t think of a more suitable place,” Qiao Qingyu turned back. “Home is too overwhelming for my mother… She needs a quiet environment, away from family conflicts.”
Ming Sheng nodded, both understanding and somewhat incredulous. “You’re saying you want to admit her in the next couple of days?”
“Yes. Tomorrow is the Qingming Festival, and the store will be closed. It’s the perfect opportunity,” Qiao Qingyu took a deep breath. “The day after, my grandfather returns, and things will become more difficult… I hope it works out.”
“Qiao Qingyu,” Ming Sheng’s voice filled with admiration, “I have three words for you.”
Three words? Qiao Qingyu’s ears flushed her heart racing.
“True hero.”
She laughed softly, graciously responding to the golden tenderness in Ming Sheng’s eyes under the sunset. “So are you.”