·

The seating arrangement in the class was adjusted after the monthly exam. Jiang Jianbin continued to uphold his “autocratic” style, giving students no freedom of choice — he simply projected the new seating chart onto the blackboard, and everyone found their name and moved accordingly.

The classroom layout also shifted from a “haphazard arrangement” to six rows and five columns. Li Kuiyi’s seat was placed in the third row, third column — neither too far left nor right, neither too far front nor back. Her classmates joked that this was absolutely intentional on the class head’s part, reserving the prime spot for the top student.

Li Kuiyi wasn’t particularly fond of this seat, though. She still preferred sitting by the window. She felt that seats away from the window were suffocating — whenever she tired of studying and lifted her head to look around, all she could see were the equally exhausted faces of her classmates, giving her the feeling that her mind had nowhere to escape. A window was different; she could stare outside and let her thoughts drift for a while, breathing freely for a moment.

She kept these thoughts to herself, however. Since everyone believed this was the homeroom teacher’s way of favoring her, if she were to speak up and say she actually didn’t like the seat, it would make her seem pretentious.

He Youyuan’s seat was in the first column, last row, near the back door of the classroom. As luck would have it, Meng Ran sat in front of him — the newly appointed class president of Class 17 — so everyone jokingly called He Youyuan “the permanent occupant behind the class president.”

Zhang Yun sat in front of Meng Ran. However, Zhang Yun didn’t seem particularly pleased with her own seat. When she moved her books over, she wore a stiff expression and slammed a thick stack of books onto the desk with a loud thud. Word later got around that she felt the seating arrangement was unfair — she was, after all, second in the grade, so why should she be stuck in such a side seat? The top student was treated like a treasure, and second place was treated like nothing, was that it?

Zhang Yun had apparently bottled up a lot of frustration, and threw herself into her studies with even greater intensity. Not only did she make full use of the ten-minute breaks between classes, she even cut down on her lunch and dinner time, gnawing on two bread rolls each day before burying her head in her books again. Jiang Jianbin called her in for a talk, telling her that hard work was admirable, but she also needed to take care of her body.

The conversation had little effect. Zhang Yun continued to study relentlessly all day. Everyone could more or less sense that Zhang Yun’s frenzied drive was directed at Li Kuiyi — she no longer wanted to be the “eternal runner-up” everyone talked about.

Then… who was He Youyuan channeling his own academic drive toward? He was an arts student, and yet he carried himself with the attitude of “being in the arts is no excuse to slack off on getting into Peking University.” Meng Ran, sitting between these two, was in quite an awkward position — it felt like even lifting his head to relax his neck during evening self-study had become a kind of offense.

When someone in the class was working excessively hard, it naturally put pressure on everyone else. Wang Jianbo, that sharp-tongued one, always liked to wander over to Meng Ran’s seat for a chat, then casually glance back at He Youyuan working through problems, and say coolly: “Arts students have so little pressure — why are you pushing yourself so hard? As long as you pass the academic line, it’s fine. No matter how high you score, those extra points have nowhere to go.”

He Youyuan found him genuinely tiresome, and didn’t even look up: “Since arts students have so little pressure, why didn’t you choose arts? Is it that you didn’t want to?”

Wang Jianbo sulked. But even after being shot down, he still came around frequently for no particular reason, hovering like a ghost, silently watching He Youyuan study.

The weather that year was truly bizarre. In the blink of an eye it was late October, yet temperatures still hadn’t dropped, hovering around thirty degrees Celsius. Everyone was still dressed lightly, fanning themselves with test papers during class. The geography teacher explained that this was because an El Niño event had already formed in the eastern and central equatorial Pacific — an important piece of knowledge, so let’s review the effects of the El Niño phenomenon on China’s climate.

“He Youyuan, you answer this one.” The teacher called on him.

He Youyuan stood up and answered fluently: “First, when the El Niño phenomenon occurs, there is a higher probability of a warm winter in China. Second, during an El Niño year’s summer, China’s main rain belt appears in regions south of the Yangtze River, while the north experiences sustained high temperatures with little rainfall…”

The first autumn rain in Liuyuan City didn’t fall until early November.

That day was a Saturday. After the weekly exam, Li Kuiyi stayed in the classroom doing problems while waiting for Fang Zhixiao. She wanted to ask if she’d be going to the book rental shop that evening, and perhaps rent a few novels to read together at home. Ever since Fang Zhixiao had started dating, they hadn’t shared a meal or walked home together in quite some time.

When Fang Zhixiao and Zhou Ce had first gotten together, they weren’t yet accustomed to being around each other as boyfriend and girlfriend, and were too shy to spend every moment clinging to each other. Back then, Li Kuiyi had even teased Fang Zhixiao, asking why she wasn’t off with her boyfriend — but only two weeks later, the two had become inseparable. Almost with the speed of lightning, Zhou Ce had colonized every inch of space around Fang Zhixiao, leaving barely any room for Li Kuiyi.

Love really is a terrible thing, Li Kuiyi thought, irritated.

She finished a math problem and stabbed a period at the end of the last digit with particular venom, nearly tearing through the worksheet. Just then, she heard Fang Zhixiao calling from outside: “Li Ku—”

Her annoyance vanished instantly, and she sprang to her feet out of sheer reflex, calling back “coming!” as she began packing up her things and turned to look out the classroom window. Fang Zhixiao poked her head in through the window with a grin: “I’m going to see a movie tonight, so I won’t be walking home with you.”

Li Kuiyi paused, staring blankly out the window. Zhou Ce also appeared beside Fang Zhixiao, flashing a flirtatious wave and saying “hi.”

“Hi” yourself!

Seriously, what was this?

Zhou Ce leaned halfway through the window of Class 17, scanned the back of the classroom, and puckered his lips, making a “tsk tsk” sound — like calling over a small dog. Li Kuiyi turned her head to look, and only then noticed that He Youyuan hadn’t left yet — nor had Zhang Yun — both were bent over their books studying.

But He Youyuan lazily lifted his eyelids, reached across the desk for an eraser, and with a flick of his wrist, launched it directly at Zhou Ce’s head.

Zhou Ce cursed, but Fang Zhixiao glanced back at the curtain of rain outside the school building and asked Li Kuiyi: “Li Kui, did you bring an umbrella? Zhou Ce and I both brought ours — if you didn’t, I can lend you one.”

Lend me one umbrella so the two of you can share one, right?

Li Kuiyi lowered her eyes, her voice small but her tone pointed: “I brought my own.”

“Alright, we’re heading off then — the movie’s about to start.” Fang Zhixiao waved goodbye, Zhou Ce told He Youyuan “we’ll settle this next time,” and then the two of them left together. The space outside the window fell quiet at once; all that could be heard was the pattering of rain.

Li Kuiyi sat at her desk in a gloomy silence for a while.

She had genuinely been happy for Fang Zhixiao when she’d told her she was in a relationship. But she hadn’t imagined that a boyfriend would end up crowding out her own place. She could accept being pushed aside a little — she understood, and was willing to make room — but she didn’t want Zhou Ce’s place in Fang Zhixiao’s heart to surpass her own.

It was the same as when she’d been jealous of Chen Luyī before — not because she wouldn’t allow Fang Zhixiao to have other close friends, but because she was afraid of no longer being her best friend.

The rain had brought a slight chill. As Li Kuiyi sat there, a gust of wind laced with dampness swept in through the doors and windows. She was still wearing her short-sleeved school uniform and couldn’t help but shiver, snapping back to herself.

She stood up, slowly packed her bag, and fished her umbrella from the side pocket. Time to go home. Zhang Yun didn’t seem to have any plans to leave yet, so Li Kuiyi simply gave her a brief goodbye: “I’m heading out.”

“Okay.” Zhang Yun looked up and smiled at her.

Out of the corner of her eye, Li Kuiyi noticed that He Youyuan’s seat was empty — she had no idea when he’d left.

To her surprise, as she stepped out of the classroom, she found He Youyuan standing under the corridor of the school building, his head tilted slightly upward, as if watching the rain drift through the sky.

Her first thought was: he’s waiting for her.

No — Li Kuiyi shook her head, dismissing the idea. He probably just forgot to bring an umbrella.

She walked past him, and before stepping into the rain, opened her umbrella. A few steps in, her body stiffened inexplicably — maybe because she was a little cold, or maybe because she had the feeling he was watching her walk away.

Li Kuiyi gripped the umbrella handle tightly, her knuckles going faintly white from the pressure. A war raged in her heart for a good while. In the end, it was almost with a clench of her teeth that she stopped, turned around, and looked back at him, keeping her voice free of any emotion: “You didn’t bring an umbrella?”

He had definitely been watching her — because the moment she turned around, she met his eyes.

He Youyuan shook his head.

“Then… I’ll walk you home, it’s on the way anyway.” Li Kuiyi’s voice grew quieter as she spoke. She was truly in a bind: if she didn’t help him, she’d feel sorry leaving him to walk home in the rain; but if she did help, she was afraid he’d read too much into it — what if he thought she liked him?

Why didn’t he just borrow an umbrella from Zhou Ce? She turned the blame on him instead.

“I’m not going home. I’m going to the studio,” He Youyuan said.

“Oh.” Li Kuiyi nodded.

Well, nothing she could do then. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to help — she was simply powerless to do so.

She was just about to say “I’ll be going then” when she heard him add: “But the studio is pretty close — just next to the school.”

Li Kuiyi: “…”

Fine. She raised the umbrella in her hand toward him.

He Youyuan squeezed under her small flower-patterned umbrella. When two people share one, the taller one naturally takes the handle — the warmth of her palm lingered on it as it passed into his hand.

The umbrella was small. His arm and her arm brushed against each other now and then — a strange sensation, body warmth mingling with the cool, damp air.

In the rain, the scent of him became even more crisp and clean. Surrounded by his presence, Li Kuiyi began to regret — she thought walking him to the studio had been a mistake.

Neither of them spoke. Only the rain drummed against the umbrella surface with a lively patter. The sky darkened; the dim amber glow of the streetlamps was veiled in a thin layer of gauze from the water mist, soft and hazy, reflected in the small puddles on the ground. When raindrops struck, it was like crushed gold foil scattering, like fireworks blooming.

Well — she supposed it was a beautiful mistake, at least.

Once they left the school gates and turned onto the path leading to the studio, he suddenly stopped and handed her the umbrella, saying: “Hold this a moment.”

Li Kuiyi didn’t understand, but she took it and raised her arm to hold it up. He Youyuan set down the backpack from his shoulders, took off his school uniform jacket, and held it out to her: “Your arms are cold.”

“I’m not cold,” Li Kuiyi shook her head.

She was genuinely a little cold, but she didn’t want him to get the wrong idea. She wished she could also find a way to explain away the fact that she’d walked him here.

He Youyuan looked into her eyes, paused, and gave a soft, gentle smile. He said quietly: “I won’t read anything into it just because you accept my school jacket — just like I know, even though you walked me here, it was only out of kindness.”

He was smiling, but Li Kuiyi saw something dim flicker in his eyes.

How did he know what she was thinking?

While Li Kuiyi stood there slightly dazed, He Youyuan leaned down a little and draped the school jacket over her shoulders: “The mid-term exams are coming up. Don’t get sick.” With that, he hoisted his backpack over his head and ran off through the rain.