When passing by Class 3 of the second year, a male student rushed up to Qiao Qingyu, shouting, “Er Hua!”
His tall frame loomed close, forcing Qiao Qingyu to stop in her tracks. “Er Hua~” he chuckled flirtatiously, leaning in even closer. His unfamiliar breath hit Qiao Qingyu’s nose, startling her into backing away.
“Her ears turned red!” the boy yelled over Qiao Qingyu’s head. Laughter erupted behind her, filling her with hatred. She slowly raised her gaze, fixating on the boy’s exaggeratedly laughing face.
Sensing her icy stare, the boy’s laughter ceased. He adopted a mock-fearful expression, saying, “Oh, I’m so scared! Don’t touch me, I’m still a virgin. I don’t want to get AIDS…”
“Chen Yuqian.” Ming Sheng’s voice drifted into Qiao Qingyu’s ears like a cold wind, instantly silencing Chen Yuqian.
Ming Sheng then emerged from behind Chen Yuqian, saying, “Come with me.” He strode past Qiao Qingyu without a glance.
Ever since someone had posted Qiao Baiyu’s photo online, Qiao Qingyu had been dubbed “Er Hua” – the second-rate village beauty, inferior to Qiao Baiyu. Occasionally, boys would crudely call her “Number Two,” making her stomach churn. Over time, she began to feel dizzy whenever she entered crowded student areas.
She had seen the post on BaBa Forum titled “The Most Beautiful AIDS Patient,” featuring an artistic photo of Qiao Baiyu. The image was as pure and transparent as a diamond, more captivating than the cover girls of romance novels. The poster claimed to be Qiao Baiyu’s longtime classmate, witnessing her descent into depravity from elementary school through high school. The post concluded: “High ambitions, fragile life.”
Qiao Qingyu realized that many things in the world were a mix of truth and falsehood, like this online post. The true part listed Qiao Baiyu’s improper behaviors, such as stealing others’ boyfriends since middle school. The false part was the poster’s identity.
Qiao Baiyu had no long-term classmates from elementary through high school. She initially attended Lifang Township Central School, then transferred to Shunyun No. 3 Middle School before ninth grade, repeating eighth grade. In high school, when the newly established Huajun Art School in Shunyun was recruiting students, Qiao Baiyu’s parents sent her there. The art school was expensive, with only two classes in its first year, attracting students from Shunyun who couldn’t enter regular high schools but had decent family backgrounds. Qiao Baiyu was the only one who had studied in the countryside for eight years.
The post’s content revealed that the poster had merely collected hearsay. Combined with Qiao Baiyu’s striking appearance, they easily concluded, “High ambitions, fragile life.” In Qiao Qingyu’s view, only the latter half of this phrase was accurate. Although Qiao Baiyu had stolen money and lived recklessly since childhood, Qiao Qingyu knew her sister wasn’t an ambitious person.
She simply craved attention.
Qiao Qingyu found it difficult to explain to others that Qiao Baiyu’s actions were purely impulsive, unlike herself, who had the patience to reflect. Qiao Baiyu’s criteria for selecting men was simple: gentleness.
That alone was enough.
Older men with tender affection held a fatal attraction for Qiao Baiyu, regardless of whether they already had partners. In this respect, Qiao Baiyu was indeed “cheap,” as people online had called her.
As Qiao Qingyu entered the auditorium, several chattering first-year girls in the front row cast disdainful glances at her. She passed them without changing her expression, but the girl on the end unconsciously moved inward.
The event in the auditorium was an English recitation competition for second-year students. Qiao Qingyu arrived late, finding the audience seats already packed with people. Someone called out “Er Hua” again. She pulled her thoughts away from Qiao Baiyu, feeling dizzy from the sea of stares.
Where was Jiang Nian? Oh right, Jiang Nian was in the front row, preparing to compete.
The seats for Class 5 of the second year were in the center section, mostly filled. Qiao Qingyu glanced at the few empty chairs in the crowd, rubbed her forehead, and headed toward the back of the auditorium.
The rear half of the audience area was empty. She chose the darkest corner and sat down.
Ye Zilin and Chen Yuqian appeared silently after the competition had started, sitting to her left and front, encircling her.
“Hey, Er Hua,” Ye Zilin turned his head and lowered his voice, “Tomorrow morning, I’ll take you to see the Minjiang Tidal Bore.”
“We’ll introduce you to some friends outside school,” Chen Yuqian leaned in from the side, “So you won’t be lonely in Huanzhou. If you ever need help, you won’t end up helpless like your sister…”
Qiao Qingyu interrupted him expressionlessly, “It’s Ming Sheng’s turn.”
As soon as she spoke, thunderous applause erupted in the auditorium, with piercing screams from both boys and girls. Although Qiao Qingyu’s anxious thoughts were far from the stage, she couldn’t help but be captivated by Ming Sheng in his white dress shirt.
He usually wore loose sports T-shirts, but for the competition, he had changed into a crisp shirt and trousers, cutting a striking figure. She couldn’t see his face clearly, nor did she need to. Before speaking, he adjusted the microphone’s height and then surveyed the audience while holding it with one hand. This simple, fluid motion held Qiao Qingyu’s gaze. The spotlight had a magical effect, transforming the arrogant, difficult rebel into a poised, modest gentleman.
Like everyone else in the auditorium, Qiao Qingyu held her breath.
“Good afternoon.”
Ming Sheng’s polite, restrained voice through the microphone crashed into Qiao Qingyu’s chest like a shockwave. Her suspended heart swayed unsteadily, like a swing in the wind.
Almost simultaneously, a shrill scream came from the center of the audience. “Ah–!”
“Tiantian came too?” Ye Zilin turned back in surprise, grinning crookedly, “She’s too wild, with teachers sitting right there~”
Chen Yuqian grimaced, “Miss Su doesn’t care about the teachers… Er Hua, are you coming to see the Minjiang Tidal Bore tomorrow?”
“No.”
Hearing her cold response, Ye Zilin and Chen Yuqian exchanged a look.
“Ahem,” Chen Yuqian coughed twice, “We’ll introduce you to your sister’s ex-boyfriend, he’s a rich second-generation…”
His meaningful gaze made Qiao Qingyu’s hair stand on end.
“No.”
Qiao Qingyu left them, rising to exit the auditorium.
The day was clear and bright, with a gentle, quiet breeze. Without thinking, she walked towards the garden beside the auditorium. Finding a bench, she sat down, looked up at the sky, closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and slowly exhaled, trying to expel the lingering sound of Ming Sheng’s voice from her mind.
The microphone had added a touch of depth and magnetism to his voice, which, combined with his unique languidness, was fatally alluring.
She suddenly opened her eyes to find the sky a pristine blue, vast and desolate.
Qiao Qingyu remembered Qiao Baiyu telling her how beautiful Huanzhou was. Three years ago, on the Mid-Autumn Festival Sunday, less than a month after arriving in Huanzhou, Qiao Baiyu had called home, brimming with excitement.
“Qingqing,” Qiao Baiyu exclaimed happily upon hearing Qiao Qingyu answer, “I’m on North Mountain. Wow, the view of Huanzhou from here is so dreamy! I didn’t know Qinghu Lake was blue, just like the sky!”
Qiao Qingyu had forgotten how she responded, only remembering her indifferent attitude. Before answering, she had seen the caller ID – the phone number wasn’t Qiao Baiyu’s. Who knew if there was a man with her? She hadn’t asked, partly because she had been taught from a young age that as a younger sister, she had no right to question her older sister’s affairs, and partly because she truly wasn’t interested.
Now, she couldn’t help but wonder if the “ex-boyfriend” Chen Yuqian mentioned was the same person who had accompanied Qiao Baiyu up North Mountain years ago.
But whether it was or wasn’t, what did it matter to her? The further she stayed from the people Qiao Baiyu associated with, the better.
After a while, Qiao Qingyu got up and walked back to the teaching building. With all the second-year students gathered in the auditorium, the second and third floors were deserted. She slowly climbed the stairs along the wall, about to turn and enter Class 5 of the second year through the back door when she heard voices near the door.
“She’s still Er Hua,” came Ye Zilin’s voice, “So what if Qiao Qingyu didn’t grow up in the village? Look at her country bumpkin appearance! How can she compare to her sister in any way?”
Qiao Qingyu looked down at her magenta striped short-sleeve polo shirt – a style from five or six years ago, Qiao Baiyu’s clothes.
“Alright, Ye, we know you have high standards. Only beauties like Qiao Baiyu can catch your eye,” Chen Yuqian spoke up, “But this Qiao Baiyu is something. If Black Bro hadn’t told us, who would have known she grew up in the countryside? Both stylish and innocent, truly rare…”
Because almost all the photos circulating online were taken after she came to Huanzhou, Qiao Qingyu thought to herself.
When it came to buying clothes, her parents had always neglected her. Qiao Baiyu loved chasing trends and choosing bright colors, and even though Qiao Qingyu despised it, she could only let these outdated, exaggerated clothes package her as an oddity among her classmates.
“And she’s so alluring, those eyes just scream ‘experienced,'” Ye Zilin drooled, “I love that kind of sophisticated beauty… The girls at our school are all too proper. Many girls in the Jiangbin New District have Qiao Baiyu’s style, but they’re not as pretty. Qiao Baiyu was so easy, how come I never ran into her…”
“Tsk tsk tsk, don’t be disgusting. She’s dead already,” Chen Yuqian said, “Don’t you think about how she died?”
“AIDS, right?” Ye Zilin blurted out, suddenly horrified, “If Black Bro used to be her boyfriend, could he have…”
“He was one of her boyfriends, but they broke up quickly,” Chen Yuqian said seriously, “Don’t worry, I asked privately. Black Bro is fine. He broke up with her when he discovered her improper behavior. She contracted the disease after they split up…”
“Ah beautiful women have always been ill-fated,” Ye Zilin sighed. “I guess I should be more careful and avoid girls who are too open… Such a stunning beauty, what a pity she brought this on herself. Why didn’t heaven give her a bit more brains, right, Sheng?”
Only then did Qiao Qingyu realize Ming Sheng was among them. She unconsciously held her breath, listening intently.
“Stop gossiping behind people’s backs,” Ming Sheng sounded cold, his voice lacking the captivating radiance it had in the auditorium, reverting to his usual nonchalance. “You’re too chatty.”
“Qiao Baiyu is dead, can’t we even talk about her?” Ye Zilin sounded unconvinced. “Everyone’s talking about it, and I wasn’t the one who brought it up first, Chen Yuqian did…”
“I just said Qiao Qingyu’s nose and eyes look quite similar to Qiao Baiyu’s…”
“You also said Qiao Qingyu is prettier than Deng Meixi. Don’t tell me you’ve fallen for Er Hua?”
“Fuck off, as if I’d like her! Just look at her! Sheng doesn’t bother with her, and she still acts all high and mighty. How could I possibly like her?”
“Weren’t you the one who said she looked pitiful when people mocked her…”
“I was just agreeing with what Sheng said, she…”
“Enough,” Ming Sheng suddenly cut in, sounding sharp. “Aren’t you tired of this?”
The air grew still. Ming Sheng continued in a softer tone: “Don’t fucking mention Qiao Baiyu again. It’s upsetting.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” Ye Zilin laughed ingratiatingly. “That woman was too dirty.”
“She was too unfortunate,” Ming Sheng said, exhaling quickly. “Abandoned by her parents in the countryside since childhood. Damn, even more of a miserable world than Qiao Qingyu’s.”
His words sent a shock through Qiao Qingyu.
She recalled feeling guilty towards Qiao Baiyu when she was very young. At four or five, she had heard adults in Nan Qiao Village joking about her and Qiao Baiyu more than once, laughing about sending Qiao Baiyu back to their parents in Shunyun and letting her stay in the village with their grandparents. These jokes often terrified her, making her cry and cling tightly to Li Fanghao’s leg, saying she didn’t want to switch with her sister.
“No switching, no switching,” Li Fanghao would stroke her head. “In a couple of years, when we get a bigger house, we’ll bring your sister back. Then the whole family can be together.”
Busybodies would continue to prod Qiao Baiyu, listing all the fun places in Shunyun, pressing her about whether she missed her parents. Qiao Baiyu usually responded with silence. Once, cornered, she had to speak: “Qingqing is my little sister. She’s still young, so I have to let her have the better situation.”
Her words won applause from the adults, ending the tasteless joke. Qiao Qingyu sighed in relief but couldn’t feel elated. Qiao Baiyu’s watery eyes, filled with suppressed sorrow, had turned towards her, weighing heavily on her conscience.
That was probably the first time she had felt deep remorse towards her sister-
During the National Day holiday, the noodle shop closed for three days, and Qiao Qingyu and Qiao Jinyu accompanied their parents back to Shunyun. A recent typhoon had caused the creek to swell, flooding their grandparents’ old house and rendering it uninhabitable. Upon arriving in Shunyun, the family rushed to Nan Qiao Village.
Grandfather Qiao Lilong and Uncle Qiao Haisheng were waiting at the village entrance to welcome them. After exchanging greetings, Qiao Haisheng took Qiao Jinyu’s hand and led everyone to the new house not far from the village entrance.
Qiao Qingyu followed the adults, touring the new house and automatically uttering words of praise. “Fortunately, we brought Mom and Dad over before the typhoon hit,” Qiao Haisheng said proudly. “It was Jinrui’s idea. That boy is thoughtful, checking the weather forecast daily, always concerned about home.”
Grandmother Fang Zhaodi’s face creased with smiles as she took Qiao Jinyu’s hand. “Xiaorui is capable, and Xiaoyu is also very capable. These two grandsons are truly blessings. You two brothers are lucky!”
“Can we still live in the old house?” Qiao Qingyu asked. Standing by the window in the third-floor corridor, her gaze swept over the undulating rooftops outside, just able to see the yellowing white back wall of the old house by the creek.
“It’s uninhabitable now,” Aunt Liu Yanfen smiled. “Mom and Dad will live with us from now on. Lusheng, you all can come here for New Year’s in the future. Just treat this place as your own home. Don’t worry about Mom and Dad day-to-day, we’ll take good care of them…”
Li Fanghao followed Liu Yanfen’s lead, exchanging pleasantries. Finding it uninteresting, Qiao Qingyu pushed open the door to the room on the right—where she and Qiao Jinyu would sleep that night.
The spacious room contained only a bed, exuding a brand-new scent. In the corner stood a deep red, low-quality leather sofa, old and brought over from Qiao Baiyu’s room in the old house.
“Sis,” Qiao Jinyu approached, “It’s time to go down for dinner.”
“How are we supposed to sleep?” Qiao Qingyu nodded towards the bed. “Are you sleeping on the sofa, or am I?”
“I knew you’d worry about that,” Qiao Jinyu smiled helplessly. “Don’t worry, I’ll sleep downstairs with Dad, and you’ll sleep upstairs with Mom.”-
Qiao Qingyu hadn’t shared a bed with Li Fanghao for many years; in fact, she had no memory of sleeping with her mother. When Qiao Jinyu was born, she was a year and a half old. According to Li Fanghao, by then she was already sleeping independently in another room.
The early autumn night was slightly cool. After showering, as she walked up to the third floor in her slippers, Qiao Qingyu secretly hoped Li Fanghao had already gone to sleep.
She didn’t like being alone with her mother at all.
Only a dim yellow bedside lamp was left on in the room. The bedding was neat, and Li Fanghao, barefoot, was curled up on the red sofa, her head nodding drowsily. It seemed she had been waiting for her.
“Mom?”
Hearing her voice, Li Fanghao looked at her blearily, let out a long yawn, and stood up, walking towards the bed. “You took so long to shower? Let’s go to sleep.”
Qiao Qingyu wondered why Li Fanghao hadn’t waited on the bed. Perhaps, once again, the sight of the sofa had reminded her of Qiao Baiyu.
Recalling her uncle’s explanation that the flood-damaged old house was now uninhabitable and they probably wouldn’t go there anymore, Qiao Qingyu glanced at the dark red sofa under the dim yellow light and couldn’t help but think—did that mean all of her sister’s things were being discarded?
The old house was a traditional brick and tile building with two floors. Qiao Baiyu had lived for eight years in a room on the second floor, which had no ceiling—looking up, one could see the fish-scale-like black tiles and dark-toned round wooden beams. It was a long, narrow room with a wooden window facing southeast. The desk, bed, wardrobe, and sofa could only be arranged in a single line. Closing the window made it feel like being in an endless tunnel. Qiao Qingyu remembered that the red sofa had been moved in later, apparently because Qiao Baiyu had seen it in a store and liked it, and their parents, to please her, had bought it.
A modern-style red sofa placed in a room full of old wooden furniture looked extremely out of place.
“Your grandparents just hate waste and can’t bear to throw things away,” Li Fanghao said, noticing Qiao Qingyu looking at the red sofa. “I don’t know why they brought this sofa over.”
Qiao Qingyu boldly and tentatively asked, “Mom, are we getting rid of everything from my sister’s old room?”
“That house is unlucky,” Li Fanghao responded unexpectedly quickly, her breath rapid. “It’s been flooded more than once or twice. The feng shui of that area is bad. Otherwise, how could the Qiao family, once a prominent household before liberation, have fallen so quickly? Look, in the village, besides your grandparents, only the useless Qiao Dayong and his crazy wife live in that pit. Who else would want to live there? Your grandparents should have moved out long ago.”
Qiao Qingyu nodded in agreement. It seemed the adults had no intention of keeping anything from Qiao Baiyu’s room.
Li Fanghao’s mention of Qiao Dayong’s crazy wife reminded Qiao Qingyu of another reason she hadn’t wanted to switch places with Qiao Baiyu when she was young. Who would want to live across from a mad woman who screamed in the middle of the night?
“Let’s sleep,” Li Fanghao ordered.
The village retired early, but Qiao Qingyu felt no trace of sleepiness. After the lights were turned off, she lay with her eyes open, listening as Li Fanghao’s breathing became more even and steady. Turning her head, she saw the autumn wind lifting the thin curtains, rustling against the red sofa, producing a soft, scratching sound.
This sofa had originally been placed under the window in Qiao Baiyu’s room.
In the quiet night, thinking of Qiao Baiyu’s former room, the cluttered desk, walls covered with celebrity posters, the wardrobe messily filled with clothes and dresses, and the light, snow-white curtains under the black tiles, Qiao Qingyu couldn’t help but feel sad.
For those eight years of Qiao Baiyu’s life no one cherished.
Recalling Ming Sheng’s words about Qiao Baiyu being “too unfortunate,” she felt guilty that it took an outsider to remind her, as a sister, of her sister’s predicament.
Come to think of it, although Ming Sheng appeared arrogant on the surface, he saw things clearly and wasn’t without empathy, which surprised her.
The silence amplified the sound of the curtain rubbing against the sofa. Qiao Qingyu quietly got out of bed.
Approaching the window, she shivered. Pushing aside the curtain, she was about to close the window when she suddenly noticed a brightly lit window in the distant old house.
Qiao Qingyu steadied herself and looked carefully, confirming that the lit room was indeed the one Qiao Baiyu had lived in.
A figure slowly appeared at the window. The light from the room flickered between bright yellow and vivid red, and strange black smoke billowed from the window.
It wasn’t a light—it was fire.
Qiao Qingyu screamed-
Of all the people rushing towards the old house, Qiao Qingyu was the first to arrive. A woman engulfed in flames was rolling on the ground. Seeing someone approach, she desperately rushed over.
Qiao Qingyu kept backing away. Suddenly, the woman stopped, dropping a small burning object from her arms before leaping into the creek.
Qiao Lusheng, Qiao Haisheng, and the others arrived shortly after, hurriedly carrying water buckets to the second floor to extinguish the fire. The small burning object lay at Qiao Qingyu’s feet. She stamped on it hard several times, putting out the fire. A few charred, incomplete pieces of paper fluttered in the wind.
Qiao Dayong rushed from across the street into the creek to save his burning, insane wife, cursing, “What a curse, what a curse, I might as well have killed you…”
The wind suddenly grew stronger, and several flames leaped up, intensifying the fire.
Before helping the adults extinguish the fire, Qiao Qingyu quickly picked up the burnt paper scraps from the ground—she had noticed writing on them, Qiao Baiyu’s handwriting. Li Fanghao arrived and, seeing her with a water bucket, sent her to the side. Helplessly, Qiao Qingyu watched as the fire grew fiercer, and soon everyone evacuated the courtyard.
It all happened so fast. Beside her, Li Fanghao, facing the burning old house, was crying inconsolably.
“It’s all gone,” Li Fanghao wailed, her voice hoarse, “Xiaobai, all your things are gone, they’ve followed you…”
Qiao Qingyu still clutched the pieces of paper. In the bright firelight, she slowly opened her palm, carefully deciphering the words on the paper.
Her gaze was immediately drawn to the most intact sentence in the middle. It was clear that this was written by Qiao Baiyu years ago; the handwriting was somewhat childish but clean and neat, as pretty as her face.
“Jinrui took my first time,” Qiao Baiyu had written. “I love him, but I still cried.”
At first, Qiao Qingyu thought this was a letter Qiao Baiyu had once written to someone, but she quickly realized these pages were actually from a diary. In the scorched upper left corner, there was a blurred handwritten year: 1998.
Ten years ago, she was six, and Qiao Baiyu was twelve, just graduated from elementary school. That summer night, the sky above the old house burst with the most brilliant fireworks, celebrating Qiao Jinrui’s admission to Huanzhou University. That year, the red sofa had mysteriously appeared in the tunnel-like room to please Qiao Baiyu. That year, the money in the Shunyun drawer had not yet vanished, and Qiao Qingyu could still freely enter and leave her parents’ room.
Beside her, Li Fanghao was still wailing, her voice as grief-stricken as a roaring flood. Qiao Qingyu felt the world spinning around her, all sound suddenly fading away.
It turned out they had all been wrong.