At the bus stop, quiet, hardly any pedestrians passing. Occasionally a car sped by, splashing up a puddle of water. Rainy day, night sky, streetlights — one of them sitting, one crouching, neither moving. It really did look like a scene out of a movie.
Jiang Wen sat there, a cartoon bandage above his brow — pink and blue, a naive little elephant balancing a white daisy on its head, bought and applied by Feng Ning’s own hand. Paired with his utterly devastated expression, he looked as if he’d suffered some great betrayal.
Feng Ning felt a small twinge of guilt, reflecting on what she’d done to him.
On second thought, it really did seem she’d been the shameless one first. She hesitated, and in the end, guilt won out — what almost slipped out as an apology turned instead into, “Well then, I’m flattered by your misplaced affection.”
“Misplaced affection…” Jiang Wen repeated slowly, his tone low, forcing down his anger. “Weren’t you the one who liked me first?”
“…Huh?” Feng Ning paused, her expression complicated. “Well, that. I’ve come to my senses now.”
But Jiang Wen had not come to his.
Books painted love with too rosy a filter. In reality, love left people faintly afraid, distressed, and joyful all at once.
The unfamiliar confusion and pain welled up into something like resentment in Jiang Wen’s chest. Pride, restraint, indifference — all of it thrown to the wind.
He couldn’t bear it any longer, and couldn’t make sense of it either. “So you don’t like me — then why did you keep joking with me like that? Love at first sight in the rain, the sticky note — was all of that a lie?”
“…?”
The barrage of questions left Feng Ning speechless.
She was at a loss, and couldn’t help but be puzzled — puzzled by how utterly at odds Jiang Wen’s innocence was with his looks.
Feng Ning wouldn’t deny that Jiang Wen’s affectations at the start had stirred up a bullying urge in her, and that teasing him had eventually gone to her head a little.
She knew she was in the wrong, but didn’t want to admit that all of this had started with her own prank.
Feng Ning sighed inwardly, spent two seconds in sincere repentance, then shamelessly shifted the goalposts. “If you suddenly find yourself liking someone, you need to be patient. Wait until you can tell whether it’s love or just hormones before making any decisions. If you’ve never had a puppy love before, you’ll get used to it after a few more rounds.”
The words sounded plausible but weren’t quite right — impossible to tell whether she was mocking herself or lecturing him. Still, one thing Jiang Wen was sure of: he’d been played.
When emotion reaches its breaking point, it can, paradoxically, turn to calm.
Under the moonlight, the water dripping from the pavilion eaves fell in silence. His features were handsome and cold, the last bit of light in his eyes like the most bone-chilling spring water in a mountain ravine, shrouded in a thin mist.
Jiang Wen stood up, his face returning to its expressionless state. Passing by her, he paused, then said slowly, “You’re really pathetic.”
Feng Ning took a piece of chocolate from her pocket, tore open the wrapper, broke off a small piece, and put it in her mouth to let it melt.
The unbroken curtain of rain seemed to split them into two separate worlds. She watched quietly as Jiang Wen walked further and further away.
The heavy rain fell on the road; his clothes were soaked through. He didn’t look back. His lonely silhouette stretched out into the distance, drawn out by the dim yellow streetlight.
The next day, they ran into each other in the hallway. Feng Ning greeted him first.
Jiang Wen, in his clean white school uniform shirt, didn’t so much as glance at her — treated her like a total stranger and walked past.
Sitting in the cafeteria eating, Shuang Yao, having heard about it, was rather amazed. “So he really did fall for you? What sin did the Ice Prince commit in a past life.”
“What Ice Prince.” Feng Ning frowned. “Could you read fewer romance novels.”
“Jiang Wen’s what, fifteen, sixteen? He’s been alive over a decade — was he raised in a vacuum? A cold, aloof, gorgeous guy like that turning out to be such an innocent little rabbit — totally doesn’t fit! Talk about a plot twist!”
Feng Ning slapped the table, exasperated. “Exactly! Damn it, if I’d known he was this pure, this thin-skinned, I never would’ve messed with him! And besides, I didn’t even do anything — I just teased him a couple times, I didn’t assault him — does he really need to act like some virtuous woman pushed to her limit by a bully?”
She fumed, shoveling a mouthful of teppanyaki and stir-fried noodles into her mouth, chewing as if to vent her anger.
“You vulgar hussy, could you lower your voice a little, do you want everyone to hear you?” Shuang Yao vaguely sensed something was off about the whole thing but couldn’t quite pin down what. She thought it over. “Anyway, you were the one being shameless first. Why don’t you just sincerely apologize to him.”
The “vulgar hussy” Feng Ning put down her chopsticks. “Apologize my ass, idiot. What am I supposed to say — ‘you’re great, I don’t deserve you, forget me, next in line’?”
“……”
Shuang Yao rolled her eyes. “You shouldn’t be here — you should be doing crosstalk at a comedy club.”
Feng Ning tilted her mouth into a smile.
Who could’ve known — barely two days after enduring Shuang Yao’s scolding, Feng Ning found herself free of the whole mess.
It was an ordinary Wednesday, the golden crow sinking in the west, dangling precariously at the edge of the sky. Feng Ning finished her run and was heading back from the field to the dorm building, cutting through a quiet little garden. The garden used to be a biology park, full of winding little paths.
Passing by the rockery, she suddenly slowed her steps. A small pebble got kicked loose, rolling a good distance with a clatter.
It was unusually quiet here, only the occasional student passing by now and then, making any voice sound especially out of place.
A shy, timid girl’s voice: “I… have something to tell you.”
Feng Ning froze for a second, wondering what scene was about to play out in front of her. Just as she was about to turn and head back, her steps stopped.
What a coincidence.
The boy turned out to be Jiang Wen.
The girl stood with her back to Feng Ning, standing on the grass, wearing a pale, ankle-length dress, her slightly curled hair loose.
A handsome boy and a pretty girl, set against just the right dusk light, looked as beautifully sentimental as an illustration from a fairy tale.
The girl raised her arm and held something out, her face flushing slightly. “This is for you. Will you read it now?”
Feng Ning caught on immediately. She shifted her stance, both waiting and watching.
In a good mood, she pinched the apple in her hand and took another couple of crunchy bites. Her hand was a bit sticky with juice.
With a bit of mischief in mind — eavesdropping on purpose — she didn’t dare make much noise, afraid of ruining their moment.
Jiang Wen’s face had clean, smooth lines; he wore a loose Nike windbreaker, unzipped, with a black-and-orange color-blocked short sleeve underneath.
He looked over the girl in front of him blankly for a few seconds, then, with a touch of indifference and perfunctory manner, took the love letter from her hands and opened it.
Cheng Jiajia lowered her head, relieved, not saying a word.
Out of nowhere, he said, “You like me?”
Jiang Wen’s expression was calm, his voice not loud, without much emotional fluctuation.
Cheng Jiajia, unable to gauge his attitude for a moment, froze for two seconds, a little uneasy. She raised her face, unconsciously showing a hint of longing and pleading. “Yeah, Jiang Wen — can I… be your girlfriend? Please don’t reject me.”
Jiang Wen seemed to be somewhere else entirely. He was staring toward the rockery, his eyes cold and out of focus.
Within his line of sight, there was a faint, slightly swaying shadow.
The owner of the shadow thought she’d hidden herself well, but had carelessly let half a shoulder show, holding a half-eaten apple, a red string tied plainly visible around her wrist.
His gaze drifted, then returned to Cheng Jiajia’s face. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly on one side.
“Oh, sure.”