Now it was Chun Chang’s turn to handle this hot potato, and she was particularly excited, hurriedly raising the phone high.

Afraid she would answer it, Cen Jin warned coldly: “Don’t answer! Don’t commit acts of organizational betrayal!”

“I know, I know, can’t I just look?” Chun Chang resigned herself, bouncing up from the sofa, examining carefully: “Isn’t this your old number? You gave it to Little Brother Li Wu?”

“Mm,” Cen Jin leaned back: “The phone is also my old one from last year.”

The phone still bounced in Chun Chang’s fingers: “How does he know my number?”

Cen Jin said: “I gave him four contact numbers before, yours was the last one.”

“Hey, why am I the last one?” Chun Chang was displeased.

Cen Jin tilted her head: “2 and 3 are my parents, sister.”

“Oh…” Chun Chang finally smiled with satisfaction: “This kid is quite smart, knowing to call your friend when he can’t reach you.”

Cen Jin’s heart skipped, belatedly realizing: “He wouldn’t have called my parents too, would he?”

Chun Chang laughed heartily: “Very possible!”

“This is ridiculous,” Cen Jin put her hand to her head: “Thankfully my parents have already turned off their phones and gone to bed at this hour.”

Chun Chang kept laughing: “Isn’t you running away from home more ridiculous?”

As they chatted, Li Wu’s second call to Chun Chang’s phone came through.

Chun Chang was also at a loss, sitting back on the sofa, holding the buzzing phone: “What should we do? The little brother must be worried sick.”

“Let him worry,” Cen Jin curved her lips, continuing to munch on cereal, “It’s good for him to experience what it feels like when someone doesn’t come home at night.”

Chun Chang shook her head and sighed: “You’re so childish, Cen Jin, are you a high school student too?”

Cen Jin was unconcerned: “This is called giving someone a taste of their own medicine.”

Chun Chang nodded at the still-vibrating phone: “But I don’t want to leave a bad impression on Little Brother Li Wu.”

Cen Jin raised a fine eyebrow: “Then answer it, just don’t tell him I’m here.”

“What if he comes out looking for you?”

Cen Jin drew in a breath, speaking with certainty: “He won’t. He doesn’t know who I know or where I work. How could he find me? Even if he went out, he’d come back empty-handed.”

―

Li Wu indeed didn’t go out to look for her.

In the moment after continuously failing to contact the woman, there was indeed an impulse driving Li Wu toward the entrance. But quickly, he came to his senses, realizing that in this vast and cold city, he knew nothing about Cen Jin’s surroundings.

And Cen Jin was his only connection to Yi City.

He had to re-examine his true self – that small, lonely insect in the deep sea, maintaining life with just a thread of oxygen. And now, even the life-sustaining pipeline had been pulled and removed from his body.

Despite being in an elegant greenhouse, Li Wu felt utterly suffocated.

He paced anxiously around the house, unable to focus on reading a book or writing a single word.

He felt regretful, worried, restless, helpless. Cen Jin was like an addiction – in these hours since their unhappy parting, his body was filled with devastating, unbearable pain. Her kindness and gentleness had made him too complacent, unable to see himself anymore.

Li Wu felt tormented and began searching through the contacts list for others. Not daring to disturb Cen Jin’s parents, he dialed the last number, hoping to learn of her whereabouts from her friend.

Twice in a row, still no answer.

At one o’clock, Li Wu sat back on the sofa, utterly desperate.

He knew Cen Jin would return, return here, but their relationship might never return to what it was before.

After sitting numbly for who knows how long, his phone suddenly vibrated, and Li Wu came back to life as he opened it.

It was a text from Cen Jin’s friend:

“She’s at my place, don’t worry, telling you this while she’s in the shower, don’t reply! Remember to delete this message!”

Finally able to breathe a little easier, Li Wu deleted the message, closed his eyes, and sat in place reflecting for a long while, before getting up and returning to the study to complete his remaining homework.

Li Wu didn’t sleep all night. At five in the morning, he packed his schoolbag and left Cen Jin’s house.

The winter morning was still deeply shrouded in night air.

On the streets were only a few wandering vehicles, sanitation workers with their brooms, vendors just setting up their breakfast stalls, and occasional passing night-shift workers, their faces covered with numbness and fatigue.

The city’s gears had not yet begun spinning rapidly; in the vast silence, these trivial details seemed especially precious.

Li Wu walked unhurriedly toward school, taking nearly a full hour.

This was his first time experiencing the city without anyone leading him, not sitting in a car viewing it from afar. He experienced it personally, measuring it with his steps, tracing it with his gaze, sensing it with his mind.

He discovered it wasn’t as frightening as he had imagined, not as distant, not as arrogant, not as unfathomable.

The sky was still the sky, the ground still the ground, and he was still himself.

With his heart immersed in his surroundings, Li Wu gradually became grounded and peaceful.

―

It wasn’t until noon that Cen Jin awoke from her friend’s bed with a splitting headache.

Chun Chang, being an old drinking hand, had prepared a bowl of stomach-soothing rice porridge and placed it on the table.

After brushing her teeth, Cen Jin felt somewhat better. She drank half the bowl of porridge, and as her strength returned, she remembered to check her phone.

In WeChat, there were only company group chats, no other messages.

Everything under control, Cen Jin gave a dry laugh: “See, not so persistent after all, in the end, he still doesn’t care whether I live or die.”

Chun Chang was wiping her camera: “Who, Little Brother Li Wu?”

Cen Jin took a sip of water: “Who else but him.”

Chun Chang curved her lips, indirectly showing her guest out: “Get out after you’re done eating. I have to go to the studio this afternoon, and who knows, maybe your brother is still waiting for you at home, sleepless all night.”

“That ungrateful wolf,” Cen Jin sneered: “How could that be possible.”

Despite her words, after finishing this simple lunch, Cen Jin didn’t linger at her friend’s place, chatting on and off until one o’clock before getting up to say goodbye.

Arriving home, Cen Jin paused briefly outside the door, took a deep breath, then unlocked it. She stopped at the entrance, looking around.

The living room was exceptionally quiet, items still neatly arranged, plants standing silently, only the slowly flowing light and shadow were the sole restless elements.

Cen Jin changed into slippers, walked a few steps further in, and peered through the corridor – except for her bedroom door being tightly closed, other rooms were open; the balcony was clean and empty. The entire house had no one but her anymore.

She noticed something on the coffee table.

Cen Jin walked closer, discovering it was the phone Li Wu had been using, with a torn notebook page underneath.

Cen Jin furrowed her brows and quickly pulled out the paper. There was one sentence written on it, in elegant handwriting:

“I will study hard and won’t make you worry anymore”

A surge of emotion shot straight to her chest, then stayed there for a long time, difficult to resolve.

Cen Jin’s chest heaved heavily once, she put the paper back on the coffee table, stood there running her fingers through her long hair twice, then urgently took out her phone, photographing this scene that nearly gave her a heart attack, and sent it to Chun Chang.

She vented: What does he mean, not even wanting the phone anymore, is he trying to show defiance? Threatening me? Wanting to break ties? If he’s really capable, he shouldn’t even go to school.

Chun Chang replied with a rolling-on-the-floor laughing emoji: Isn’t this exactly what you wanted, what an obedient child.

Cen Jin’s head was killing her: I’m really about to faint from anger, truly, this is the first time in my life I’ve met someone so difficult to deal with, what trial am I going through this year? Why does Heaven keep throwing these things at me?

Chun Chang advised: Come on, maybe he just wants to focus on studying.

Cen Jin forced herself to calm down: Fine, it’s almost finals anyway, let’s see how well he can study.

―

In the new week, Li Wu completely returned to his former self.

No socializing, coming and going alone, focusing intently in class, buried in studies during free time.

Last Friday, the incident of not returning to the dorm was resolved with each party calling their parents and receiving warnings and criticism.

Ran Feichi and Gu Yan hadn’t gotten a hotel room, they were just celebrating the girl’s birthday, setting off fireworks at midnight which made them miss curfew, afterward, they stayed at an internet cafe.

Li Wu refused the head teacher’s suggestion to change rooms, still living in the original dormitory, becoming a completely transparent existence.

The other three ignored him, chatting among themselves, playing among themselves, though at certain moments, their inexplicable gazes would inadvertently slide across his figure, then transform into deeper contempt.

But this week, this subtle dormitory atmosphere underwent a qualitative change, beginning to transform into concrete actions.

Monday noon, Li Wu got his food at the cafeteria, and as soon as he sat down, Ran and Lin came to sit at his table, sandwiching him between them.

They ate silently for a while, exchanged a look, then began picking out all the fatty meat from their bowls, throwing it into Li Wu’s tray, speaking with sarcastic undertones: “Eat more, you must eat it all, it’s not easy to get meat usually, definitely don’t waste it.”

Li Wu stared at the pile of fatty meat for a moment, picked up a piece, and put it in his mouth, chewing calmly.

Ran Feichi immediately applauded: “So accommodating, good brother.”

On Tuesday night, Li Wu finished his shower and was washing clothes on the balcony as usual.

Suddenly, Lin Honglang sauntered carelessly to his side, dumping several pairs of worn socks into his basin, smiling lazily: “Wash these together, yeah?”

Li Wu’s hands paused briefly, lowered his eyelids, and buried those pairs of socks back into the deep soap suds.

Later, the deliberate alienation and exclusion from his peers expanded in scope, gradually extending from the dormitory to the entire class.

This discovery came from Wednesday afternoon’s PE class.

The PE teacher directed several tall boys to go get volleyballs, Li Wu among them.

They walked arm in arm, moving as one group with natural rapport, laughing and talking, automatically keeping several meters’ distance from Li Wu.

When they reached the equipment room by the field, they went in successively, then came out two by two carrying ball baskets.

Li Wu was last. Entering the equipment room, he scanned the rather large ball basket, planning to try lifting it alone, just as he was about to bend down to grip the handles―

Bang!

A volleyball struck his back, the impact making Li Wu stumble, nearly falling forward. He stabilized himself just in time, frowning as he turned to look for the culprit.

“Ah, sorry, my hand slipped.” A crew-cut boy from his class flashed him a brilliant smile.

Li Wu looked at him expressionlessly once, then turned back to lift the ball basket.

“Your aim is too bad,” another voice lazily joined in, “watch mine.”

A powerful strike hit his neck, the volleyball bouncing off Li Wu’s shoulder and back to the ground.

“This is volleyball, right? Your form isn’t correct, shouldn’t you be using your forearms?”

Another hit, striking Li Wu’s left rear shoulder.

They giggled and laughed.

He remained silent.

They were pleased with themselves.

He stood unmoved.

“First time discovering volleyball could be so fun.”

“Yeah, there are so many ways to play.”

“Let’s try basketball next time.”

“No way, basketballs are too hard, that’s not friendly.”

“…”

Li Wu took a long breath and bent down for the fourth time to lift the ball basket.

A ball struck squarely at the back of his head.

After a brief dizziness, Li Wu directly dropped the basket, grabbed a ball with one hand, and turned around, violently smashing it against the cement ground in front of them.

The ball bounced very high.

Several boys jumped back startled, their expressions terrified, faces flushed red with fear.

“What are you doing?”

“Idiot!”

“Who do you think you are!”

They became furious with embarrassment, cursing loudly, while simultaneously throwing more nearby balls at Li Wu.

Finally, it was Cheng Rui who rushed over shouting: “Teacher’s asking why you haven’t brought the balls yet―”, and only then did the boys stop and quiet down.

Li Wu looked straight ahead, brushed off his front, picked up the scattered balls, and then alone carried an entire basket of volleyballs down the steps.

Seeing them return, the PE teacher reorganized the lines.

Everyone stood at attention, called out their numbers, faces young, voices loud.

Cheng Rui joined the line, secretly glancing toward Li Wu who was placing the ball basket not far away. Under the bright sun, the boy’s figure was thin, and the white parts of his uniform back were covered in messy gray marks. As if stung, a hint of burning remorse floated in Cheng Rui’s eyes, before he turned his gaze away.