“I am a coward. Even writing down your name, I fear I’ll give myself away.”

— Sherry Lab, The Ninth Year Through the Dream

After that day, more than two weeks passed without Xia Li running into Yan Sishi anywhere on campus.

She happened to cross paths with Wang Chen and asked him about it. Wang Chen said Yan Sishi had taken leave of absence — he didn’t know when he’d be back, either.

As for the reason for the leave, Wang Chen was even more in the dark. He had zero interest in the personal affairs of his classmates, and besides, Yan Sishi was that sort of distant personality.

It was the most luminous and clear-skied time of April, yet Xia Li couldn’t summon a scrap of spirit.

She was normally the type who rarely broke out in pimples, but during this stretch, two had appeared on her forehead and at the corner of her mouth for no apparent reason — swollen, painful, and itchy.

She knew she had no standing to feel this way, but she couldn’t help worrying.

She thought back to the conversation she had once overheard between Yan Sishi and Tao Shiyue’s mother, and to what Yan Sishi’s grandmother had said on the day of the anniversary. Xia Li made a reasonable guess: perhaps Yan Sishi’s mother was ill.

Beneath a pall of lingering gloom, the April monthly exam came and went.

Scores were released quickly — the rankings were posted the very next day. Competition within the experimental class was fierce, and the differences between ranks were slim. Xia Li placed ninth in her class, which was in line with her recent results.

At midday, after the lunch rest period ended, Xia Li left the student dormitory and set off toward school.

Passing the stationery shop at the school gate, she picked up an issue of Film Monthly: Midnight Edition from the display stand outside and went in to browse for some new notebooks and pens.

She was testing out a new refill from a Chenguang pen when she suddenly heard a voice outside — clear and cool — asking the shop owner if the latest issue of Film Monthly: Midnight Edition was sold out.

Out at the newspaper stand in front, head tilted slightly as he browsed through magazines, was the person she hadn’t seen in over two weeks: Yan Sishi.

He was wearing a black drawstring hoodie, which made him look like he’d lost a little more weight. His expression was as composed as ever, but somehow he seemed colder than before — that air of do not approach about him was even more pronounced than usual.

The shop owner said, “All gone — the last copy was just sold.”

Xia Li was about to call out a greeting when Yan Sishi had already pulled his gaze away and turned, walking off.

Xia Li quickly paid for what she’d picked up and went after him.

Yan Sishi moved at a quick pace — to keep up with him, Xia Li would have had to half-run, but that would inevitably attract his attention.

So she followed at a distance that was neither too close nor too far, through the covered walkway, and at the corner, she watched his figure disappear into the door of Class Twenty.

Passing by Class Twenty, she glanced through the window. Everyone inside seemed to be curiously sizing up Yan Sishi, but not a single person had gone up to him.

Only Wang Chen walked over to his desk — she couldn’t hear what was said, but it was probably about the leave of absence.

Seeing him back made her feel relieved, in a way. But seeing the state he was in made her worry all the more.

Xia Li used her textbook to hide the magazine she’d bought at noon and spent the next two class periods working her way through most of it.

When the final afternoon class let out, Xu Ning called to her to go for dinner together. She said she wasn’t that hungry yet — she’d wait a bit.

She waited until most of the classroom had cleared out, then went out the door, magazine in hand.

Downstairs at the first floor, she first checked on the situation in Class Twenty’s classroom.

Yan Sishi and Wang Chen weren’t there — they were probably at dinner.

The classroom had almost no one left, just two or three students eating something while watching movies on their MP4 players.

Xia Li summoned her nerve and quietly slipped in through the back door.

She made her way to Yan Sishi’s seat and swept a glance over his desk: three books neatly stacked, a black pencil case, a pair of earphones lying casually on top.

She opened the magazine to the first page to confirm the sticky note she’d written was still in place, set the magazine down on his desk, and slipped out the back door as quickly as she had come.

The words on the sticky note had been written with her left hand, worked on for half a class period, crooked and uneven.

In the past, she might have tried to hand it to Yan Sishi in person. But the distant, cold attitude she’d glimpsed through the stationery shop doorway earlier today had pushed her tentatively extended snail’s antennae firmly back in.

If she was turned down face-to-face, she didn’t know if she’d still have the courage next time to go out of her way to get near him.

Better to do it anonymously — more room to maneuver.

Student Yan:

I happened to hear your conversation with the shop owner at the school gate just now. I was the one who bought the last copy of the magazine.

I’ve already finished reading it — lending it to you.

This is simply a matter of sharing between people with the same interest. I hope it doesn’t cause any misunderstanding on your part. If you don’t need it, please drop it off at the school’s lost-and-found, and I’ll collect it at some point.

P.S.

Film is the antidote to life.

The weather is nice. Hope your mood is good.

The signature was a single “S” — for “Sherry.”

That day, Xia Li’s mind wandered all through evening study hall, worrying about whether the magazine had been sent to the lost-and-found, or whether Yan Sishi had simply, not bothered, and tossed it in the trash.

Beyond that, another matter was weighing on her: the May Day holiday was almost here, and she needed to go to the electronics market to set up a computer for her parents.

She’d already asked around among the girls she was closer with, but none of them knew much — they could only recommend brands their own families used. She also had Lin Qingxiao ask Nie Chuhang on her behalf, but Nie Chuhang’s knowledge in that area was limited and he didn’t feel confident giving advice.

During the break in evening self-study, Xia Li went to ask Xiao Yulong — one of the boys she knew better.

“Computer specs?” Xiao Yulong scratched his head. “My family just bought a whole Lenovo set — if you’re a beginner trying to build one yourself, you’ll easily get taken advantage of. How about I go ask one of my friends in the science track?”

“It’s… I was just asking casually for now, no need to trouble anyone.”

Xiao Yulong smiled. “Well, let me know if you need anything.”

Xia Li nodded.

Noticing there was still time left in the break, Xia Li ran downstairs once more.

She had just reached the doorway of Class Twenty when — exactly — she ran into Wang Chen coming from the direction of the bathroom.

“Wang Chen!”

Wang Chen was the type who often got absorbed in his own world while walking. He only stopped and turned at the sound of his name being called.

“Could I ask you a favor?”

Wang Chen nodded.

After their several interactions by now, Wang Chen had finally come to remember who she was.

“Do you know anything about computer specs? I want to put together a desktop and was hoping you could recommend some components — processor, memory, graphics card, that kind of thing.”

Wang Chen said, “Not really.”

“Oh…” Xia Li felt deflated. “I thought you’d be more knowledgeable about this.”

“Why? Did I say that?”

“…No, I didn’t mean — ” Xia Li didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

She hadn’t said it, but she’d thought: you just look like someone who would know this stuff inside and out.

Wang Chen pushed his glasses up. “Why are you asking me? Yan Sishi is the one who knows this — you should be asking him…”

Before Xia Li could stop him, Wang Chen had already called out Yan Sishi’s name into the classroom.

Xia Li watched as Yan Sishi — sitting by the window — took off his earphones and glanced toward the door. He then stood up and casually closed the magazine in his hand — Xia Li had excellent eyesight and recognized in an instant that it had to be the copy she had “lent” him.

Yan Sishi walked toward the door.

Something in Xia Li’s chest leaped with quiet delight.

Yan Sishi stopped in the doorway, looked at her, then looked at Wang Chen. “What is it?”

“Xia Li wants to put together a computer — you know this stuff. Give her a hand.”

Honestly, it would be a lie to say Xia Li hadn’t thought about asking Yan Sishi for help.

He regularly read Digital Home, wrote code himself, and had a whole pile of professional books on computer programming. The odds that he knew about this were high.

But when you like someone, you instinctively avoid making your intentions too obvious. You always take a wide detour first, as if that way you can convince yourself — and them — that you don’t have an ulterior motive.

Yan Sishi tilted his head slightly and asked Xia Li, “Any particular requirements?”

“Mainly for everyday use — watching dramas, playing casual games, things like that.”

Up close, Xia Li noticed that he did look a bit thinner than before. From looking after a sick person, perhaps? He had faint shadows under his eyes, as though he hadn’t been sleeping enough.

“Budget?”

Xia Li answered, “Th… three thousand or so. No more than three thousand five hundred.”

The words felt hollow even as she said them.

It wasn’t a high budget. If she used it to buy a brand-name desktop set, she’d only be able to afford the low-end lineup.

But Yan Sishi nodded. “When are you planning to buy it?”

“May Day. The electronics market will probably have promotions for the holiday…”

“I’ll put together a list and — tomorrow —”

Wang Chen cut in: “The day after tomorrow is the start of the holiday. Let’s just go to the electronics market and look together. I need to get a new mouse anyway — you can help me vet it.”

Yan Sishi said, “Sure.”

Xia Li was momentarily struck dumb — like she’d just been blindsided by a falling pie from the sky. “…That would be too much trouble.”

But Wang Chen had already launched into the logistics of timing.

“Morning or afternoon, either works for me. Whatever time suits you two.” Xia Li put on a calm front, though she hadn’t yet absorbed the magnitude of this unexpected gift.

Yan Sishi said, “Morning?”

Wang Chen said, “Morning works for me.”

Xia Li said, “Nine o’clock in the morning, meet at the entrance to the electronics market?”

“Sure.” Yan Sishi said.

The whole walk back, Xia Li floated on clouds. She drifted up the stairs and made it to her classroom with only seconds to spare.

The math teacher resumed going over the exam paper and put up a similar problem for the class to solve.

Xia Li picked up her pen and copied down the problem on her scratch paper, writing out the character for “Solution.”

When she came back to herself, the trigonometric functions that had been there a moment ago had somehow become several rows of the words “Yan Sishi.”

She hurriedly scribbled over them.

On the morning of May Day, Xia Li woke up very early.

She had gone to bed late the night before as well. She’d known worrying about staying up too late would give her dark circles, but no matter how she lay there, she couldn’t fall asleep.

She finally drifted off, only to wake up again at four in the morning.

She had checked her phone alarm countless times, yet she still worried it would fail to go off when it was supposed to.

The whole night was stretched out, unbearably long with anticipation and nerves.

Seven o’clock — get up, wash up, change clothes… Out the door exactly at seven-thirty. She had breakfast and caught a bus.

She arrived at the entrance to the electronics market before even half past eight.

The half-hour she spent waiting felt like it flew by in the blink of an eye.

Before long — around eight-fifty, by her guess — a black Mercedes pulled up at the curb.

Xia Li stepped down a couple of stairs and watched as Yan Sishi got out.

“Morning!” Xia Li called out.

Yan Sishi looked up. “Morning.”

He walked toward her while checking his phone for the time, as if confirming he wasn’t late.

When he reached her, Xia Li held out the drink she’d just bought. “Have you eaten breakfast?”

“Yeah.” Yan Sishi accepted the bottle, and with his other hand drew a sheet of folded paper from the pocket of his trousers and handed it to Xia Li.

Xia Li took it, stealing a glance at him.

In the clear amber light of morning, his features had a kind of brisk freshness — like thin snow just beginning to clear.

In her hands was a sheet of A4 paper, neatly folded into quarters.

When she unfolded it, she found a component list Yan Sishi had drawn up — two options in total. One came in just over three thousand, the other close to three thousand five hundred. Each option was so detailed it even included the price of a mouse.

Yan Sishi twisted off the bottle cap and took a sip. “Some parts might not be in stock, and the actual prices could fluctuate. Take this as a reference.”

“…Thank you. You must have put in quite a bit of effort.”

“Not really.”

Xia Li snuck another glance at him.

Something inside her whispered: what did I do to deserve this.

“Let me treat you and Wang Chen to lunch,” Xia Li said. She was clutching that A4 paper, her palm damp with light sweat beneath it, though her expression gave nothing away.

Yan Sishi was about to reply when Xia Li pressed on: “If you’re not busy — please don’t say no. I’d really feel awful about it.”

Yan Sishi paused, then said, “Alright.”