Two days before high school started, Miao Jing quit her job at the internet café, taking her wages and heading home with Chen Yi—he had vouched for her to get this job in the first place. At fifteen, she was too young; the café owner wouldn’t normally hire such young workers, only letting her do odd jobs during the night shift. Chen Yi could earn money playing games there, while Miao Jing stayed up late with him eating instant noodles and breathing secondhand smoke. She felt the internet café was a place of both joy and sorrow—young people’s excitement and happiness, alongside their degradation and pain.

Both had money in their pockets and were in good spirits, walking leisurely. At nine in the morning, there were still housewives returning from grocery shopping. Miao Jing also wanted to stop by the market, with Chen Yi following along. Passing by a small clothing store on the street, he called out to her—they both needed some new clothes for school.

Miao Jing wore only uniforms at school; everything else came from street vendors—five-yuan tank tops, and ten-yuan T-shirts. Yet she still managed to look good in them, with her fair skin, black hair, thick eyelashes, and quiet, ethereal temperament adding greatly to her appearance. Chen Yi’s clothes were also bought casually; he wasn’t particular about this. He’d gone through a non-mainstream phase wearing floral shirts and ripped jeans but lately stuck to unchanging T-shirts and trousers, throwing away each piece as it wore out, owning just those two types of clothes.

They bought complete outfits, simple T-shirts, trousers, and canvas shoes. After shopping, while Chen Yi smoked by a garbage bin, Miao Jing went to the neighboring lingerie store. Being thin, she had always worn small cotton vests under loose T-shirts, binding herself tightly to hide her curves. Her chest always felt constricted, and the small vests became loose after repeated washing. She knew girls her age had started wearing shaping underwear, but had never dared buy any—her mother Mei Mingzhen hadn’t had time to teach her about menstruation and breast development; she had figured everything out on her own.

Miao Jing felt shy and nervous as she bargained with the shop owner. Chen Yi came looking for her with their shopping bags. Usually acting cool like he was above everything, never showing teenage awkwardness, he suddenly froze upon encountering the colorful array of underwear and bras. When their eyes met, he quickly twisted away, pretending to look up at nothing in particular.

The shopkeeper was especially enthusiastic, her voice carrying: “Thirty yuan each, can’t go any cheaper. This bra is perfect for young girls like you—look how pretty the pink is, with lace trim. Great push-up effect, and won’t bounce when running. Let me help you try the size, it’s perfect for you.”

With a familiar face standing outside, Miao Jing felt completely uncomfortable, timidly refusing the shopkeeper’s good intentions, just wanting to pay and leave quickly.

Chen Yi stood with hands in his pockets, slightly frowning while looking elsewhere, thinking thirty-yuan items couldn’t be any good. He’d heard Big Head Yuan bragging about accompanying girls to buy these things, with a tiny bit of fabric costing several hundred yuan. Those women’s magazines and newspapers all said to buy the most expensive and best quality, otherwise there would be sagging and spreading later. Then he thought about Wei Mingzhen—what a terrible person, taking tens of thousands and leaving, abandoning her daughter. He’d become the fall guy and had to help watch someone else’s daughter.

“Miao Jing.” He called her out. “Let’s go.”

“Huh?”

“Come on, hurry.”

His urgency matched her embarrassment, and they quickly escaped the enthusiastic shopkeeper.

After buying other items and some groceries, they walked home. Passing a boutique lingerie store, Chen Yi hesitated once, then twice, his face slightly flushed, vaguely pointing: “Want to look inside?”

“What? Oh…” Miao Jing realized, twisting her wrists, face red as she sheepishly looked at the store.

“We’re not broke.” He drawled with a cigarette dangling, hastily pulling out money and throwing it to her. “Browse by yourself, I’ve got something to do, heading back first.”

An hour later, Miao Jing returned home with two discounted bras, feeling slightly elated. The store clerk had been gentle, teaching her how to wear them and measure sizes, also complimenting her figure. Miao Jing liked pretty things and chose two very soft white bras with lace and pearl decorations—a young girl’s growth shouldn’t only be about darkness and poverty, but should include beauty and purity.

Back home, their morning purchases sat on the table, but Chen Yi wasn’t there, gone off somewhere. Miao Jing cooked and cleaned, washing their new clothes and hanging them on the balcony—the sky was azure blue, unwrung corners of clothes dripping water, gently brushed by the wind. The feeling was special, like dust settling, or like a high-flying kite still connected by string; she finally had a fixed place to rest.

When high school started, Miao Jing paid the tuition entirely with her earnings. The high school campus was more upscale and beautiful than the middle school. Students who could attend were either elite talents or from wealthy families. Being somewhat far from home, it required transportation or taking the bus to school. With long evening self-study sessions and buses not running late, Miao Jing chose to board at school—though she slightly regretted it after paying the dormitory fees. The school cafeteria was expensive, with various miscellaneous expenses adding up. Living costs might increase; staying at home would save more money. Miao Jing didn’t want to become Chen Yi’s burden; he was only slightly older and still studying himself.

High school studies were busy, with six people sharing a dorm room. At this brilliant age of youth, Miao Jing remained solitary and quiet—avoiding revealing her circumstances while preventing impulsive spending, reducing troubles and gossip, and spending more time on her studies.

Many boys in the class liked teasing her and showed interest, but all invitations to go out or attend gatherings were rejected. Miao Jing was the cold, proud, veiled ice beauty.

Her phone never rang; Chen Yi didn’t contact her without reason, and she didn’t contact him. His number was the only one listed under family contacts, a relationship marked as elder brother. When the homeroom teacher asked about her parents, Miao Jing said they worked out of town and she lived with her brother. The teacher assumed she was a left-behind child and that her brother was an adult.

Only on weekends did she return home, where Chen Yi would be. She cooked, did laundry, and cleaned while he played games, slept, and ate. They spent two days together at home, with Chen Yi occasionally giving her rides to school on his motorcycle, looking cool and eye-catching at the school gate, drawing onlookers’ attention.

Asking Chen Yi for living expenses was difficult to bring up, so Miao Jing found ways to earn money herself. She no longer collected and sold recyclables; high school students could find other jobs, like doing homework or taking tests for Chen Yi’s classmates, working night markets, or setting up street stalls. But mainly it came from Chen Yi, who never seemed short of money, always having some amount. Miao Jing didn’t ask for much, being very frugal, basically spending nothing at school except for food. She needed to cover tutorial fees or supplementary teaching materials.

When Chen Yi had money, he could give her five or six hundred at once; when broke, he could still produce dozens of yuan. If not spent on Miao Jing, it would go to entertainment anyway, so he’d force more on her than she wanted.

“If you don’t spend it, I’ll blow it all with friends tomorrow anyway. Better you keep it—when I’m broke later, I’ll have to ask you for it back.”

Miao Jing thought about it, then quietly accepted.

–

Chen Yi’s friends came from all walks of life, always surrounded by a group of pleasure-seeking companions. There were too many places to play and things to experience, having encountered both the dirty and exciting sides of life. At seventeen or eighteen, everything was vigorous, even the blood pulsing through their veins.

This age was most prone to going astray, yet Chen Yi was devilishly clever. Wild as an eel since childhood, impossible to catch, he’d done his share of mischief but never anything too outrageous. When these delinquent youths gathered, beyond gaming, gambling, and fighting, there was lewdness. They’d seen countless adult videos and magazines. His buddies all had girlfriends or other improper thoughts, and plenty of girls admired or actively pursued Chen Yi, but he wasn’t fully aware at first. Pool, racing, gaming, or other activities could attract enough interest, and much more fun than getting intimate with girls. When he gradually became aware, with flirtatious glances landing right before him, he became somewhat evasive and unwilling—he had no money for dating.

His situation was different from others. Without parents or income source, his earned money went to tuition, supporting himself, hanging out with his brothers, modifying his bike, upgrading equipment, and recently adding a burden studying at a provincial key school. Nothing remained for eating out, shopping, buying clothes, or getting rooms with girls. Chen Yi had too much pride to live off women, and seeing Big Head Yuan’s relationship with that little punk girl, being single was much more comfortable.

Life passed hazily for over half a year, generally happy. During the National Day holiday, Miao Jing worked with him at the internet café. For the Mid-Autumn Festival, Chen Yi would bring home two big crabs. During winter and Spring Festival breaks, they’d do some small business to earn money. When school started again, Miao Jing wanted to move back home, but Chen Yi found it troublesome—the commute was too far, and he still needed to regularly check on her. Just meeting on weekends for home-cooked meals was fine enough.

Two months into the semester, Miao Jing unexpectedly received a phone call—Chen Yi was in the hospital.

He’d been in a motorcycle accident racing on the mountain at night. Several groups had arranged a showdown. Chen Yi, usually arrogant and prominent, had ongoing friction with others. That night, someone deliberately created trouble, blocking the race track. After a chain collision of motorcycles, Chen Yi was thrown to the front. Lucky to be alive, he’d braked in time, avoiding falling down the mountain but crashing into rocks, covered in blood with a broken leg, lying bloodied in the hospital.

When Miao Jing rushed to the hospital, she saw Bo Zi, Dai Mao, and others surrounding the bed, then looked at Chen Yi. She stared with clear big eyes, her face pale, wooden, and speechless.

Chen Yi’s face was colorful with bruises, but still breathing, lying in bed joking with others. Some who didn’t know Miao Jing, seeing her in high school uniform, asked if Brother Yi was keeping a secret lover or corrupting an innocent schoolgirl. Chen Yi just grinned and laughed.

“Get lost, she’s my sister.”

“Which dear sister? Brother Yi, just how many dear sisters do you have?”

“A family relative!”

He shooed away the flies around him, lounging casually, teasing: “I’m not dead yet, why the funeral face?”

“If you died…” Miao Jing’s lips quivered, eyes reddening, “what… what would I do?”

“Whatever you’d do—go find your mom, if you can’t find your mom, find your dad, if you can’t find your dad, find those relatives of yours, worst case there’s still the orphanage.” His tone was casual. “It’s not like we have any real connection.”

Besides, he wouldn’t die; the injuries weren’t serious. The blood was all from surface wounds, only the broken bone was troublesome, requiring several months of rest.

“If you don’t die, then what if you’re paralyzed? Or need amputation? Or your face is disfigured? What then?”

Her clear pupils stared at him.

“Hey, why do you have to say such nasty things? Are you cursing me or what?” Chen Yi thought for a moment. “If that happened, then I might as well die—I’d kill myself.”

Who else would care whether he lived or died?

Miao Jing took a few days off school, rushing between the hospital and home. Chen Yi’s hospitalization required treatment, X-rays, hospital fees, medicine, and nutritional supplements, basically emptying both their pockets. Bo Zi and the others pooled some money for Miao Jing, barely enough for them to eat.

“Go to class, aren’t you busy?” Chen Yi shooed her away from his hospital bed. “Why keep running to the hospital every day? Bo Zi and they bring food, you don’t need to worry about it.”

Miao Jing had made chicken soup, scooping it from a thermos for him: “I’m at school during the day, got permission to skip evening self-study. I’m staying at home for now, and the bus route works out for bringing you meals—doesn’t interfere with my classes.”

“Don’t come at night, it’s not safe.” He held the bowl, lowering his head to sip the fragrant chicken soup.

Miao Jing sat by the hospital bed, lost in thought for a long while, finally turning to look at him: “I met Dai Mao. He said your motorcycle’s been fixed, it’s at the repair shop… why don’t we… sell the motorcycle?”

Chen Yi frowned; that motorcycle was his treasure, he’d spent so much on modifications.

“We’re out of money.” Miao Jing’s hand reached into her pocket. “Just paid more hospital fees downstairs, in a few days we’ll be going hungry.”

His arrogant expression drooped, Chen Yi’s face tightened, lips pursing: “Fine, we’ll sell it.”

Adding reluctantly: “Damn it.”

Calmly and peacefully, Chen Yi sold off this cool, eye-catching motorcycle that had drawn countless screams of excitement, at a cheap price.

After staying in the hospital for half a month, Chen Yi returned home to recover with a cast and crutches. Unable to move freely, he couldn’t go anywhere, only stay at home. Even after removing the cast, his leg hadn’t recovered, he couldn’t walk normally, and didn’t want to go out and lose face—the most depressing part wasn’t the injury, but the blow to his spirit. Chen Yi had always been proud and aggressive since childhood, charging straight ahead. When had he ever been so pathetic, covered in injuries, limping while walking?

Miao Jing needed to care for him, so she moved back home from school, having Dai Mao help her buy a second-hand bicycle to ride to school every day.

One needed to attend school, one restricted in movement—this meant months of depleting their resources, without even basic living guarantees.

By the time they were down to eating boiled noodles at home, Chen Yi was irritable without cigarettes to smoke. Miao Jing watched him lying depressed on the couch, T-shirt wrinkled like dried vegetables, chin covered in stubble, looking disheveled and lazy.

“Does being a beer girl pay well?” She sat on the couch folding clothes. “How much can you earn in a day? Is it just selling beer?”

Chen Yi lazily opened his eyes: “Professional drinking companions, drink one bottle, customers buy ten, men groping your thighs—you want that?”

“I’m willing.” Miao Jing replied calmly.

A lighter suddenly flew through the air, hitting her head, making Miao Jing grimace in pain.

He got up, fiercely dragging his leg back to his room to change his T-shirt, then went out.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m not paralyzed, can’t I go out?” He threw back one sentence: “You stay put at home.”

Chen Yi didn’t have the face to go mooch off those fair-weather friends, nor to borrow money or try shady ways to make some cash. He went straight to a construction site looking for odd jobs, gave the foreman a pack of cigarettes with some flattery, and joined the renovation team as a construction worker. He was quick-witted, learned fast, tall and strong with good strength, and excellent at demolition, bricklaying, and painting work.

Wages were paid daily, 200 yuan a day, enough to keep food on the table.

Late at night when Chen Yi quietly returned, Miao Jing saw the dust in his hair and eyebrows, dirty clothes, and work gloves thrown by the door, too shocked to react for a long while.

“Buy some meat, I want meat.” He gritted his teeth putting down the money, turning to enter the bathroom for a shower.

He kept this job until his leg fully healed. The income was stable, life wasn’t worrying, and he could stay at the construction site. Chen Yi sent his dirty clothes home for washing, requiring Miao Jing to scrub hard to get them clean. When summer vacation came, she went every day to bring him meals and help.

The summer weather was especially hot. Chen Yi followed the renovation team working on new houses. The house had no electricity yet, and small spaces were stuffy and dirty. Miao Jing brought lunch boxes, ice water, and half a watermelon, and saw Chen Yi shirtless, leaning against the wall resting on the ground. The floor was covered with newspapers and book pages, his T-shirt thrown aside. He sprawled with legs spread, one hand holding a cigarette, the other holding a book.

The books came from somewhere unknown, perhaps used for flooring, wall pasting, or discarded by others. The pages were old and yellowed, all novels: Water Margin, The Count of Monte Cristo, How the Steel Was Tempered, The Red and the Black, and even Lei Feng’s Diary.

He read quite seriously and intently. His crew cut was dusty, deep honey-colored muscles gleaming with sweat, chest, and shoulders dusted with grey, muscle lines marked with red scratches and grey traces from his fingers. Miao Jing saw his thick eyelashes move, fingers holding the cigarette turn a page, unconsciously taking a drag, eyelashes gently flickering again, slowly exhaling smoke—like a still life, also like a静beautiful male sculpture.

Chen Yi hadn’t noticed her standing there for so long, until Miao Jing walked in, sitting cross-legged beside him, softly telling him to eat, then asking what he was reading.

“The Hunchback of Notre Dame.” His eyes hadn’t looked up yet, voice carrying a smile. “It’s really good. Never realized before there were so many good books, much more interesting than playing games.”

Miao Jing’s eyes seemed to catch some dust; she blinked hard suddenly.

He put down the book and began wolfing down the food, eating roughly and quickly, sweeping clean all the food Miao Jing had brought like a whirlwind. Then he told her to buy some things on her way back and take his dirty clothes home to wash.

Miao Jing sat for a while. He wanted to take a nap, lying down on the newspapers again with the book covering his face, telling her to go home early. Miao Jing packed up to return home, looking back at him one more time before leaving.

Back home, washing his clothes, soaking them in a basin with lots of detergent, but they never seemed to get clean. She scrubbed until her fingers were red, but could never get the paint out. Miao Jing threw the clothes back in the basin, dirty water splashing on her. She couldn’t help but bury her head in her knees and sob violently. After crying, she took out her phone to call Wei Mingzhen, then ran out to find the home of the man who had run away with her mother, asking if there was any news of the two.

By the time Chen Yi’s leg fully healed, these peaceful days had passed.

After graduating from vocational high school, Chen Yi wasn’t yet eighteen. He didn’t race motorcycles anymore—things that gambled with life weren’t so interesting. He had the chance to truly enter society, going with friends to play pool at clubs. He was very good at pool, winning against many people and meeting all sorts of characters. The nightclub manager took notice of him, and his first formal job was as internal security at the nightclub.

These days, young toughs didn’t learn from Young and Dangerous movies, fighting with knives in the streets. Robbery and protection money rackets became old forms, all getting new packaging—demolition teams, high-interest debt collection, entertainment venues, and exclusive product supply, all transforming into businessmen.

Chen Yi never worried about money again after that. The first time he walked through the door in a suit, even an ordinary suit on him carried an air of vigor and wildness. He seemed to have never gone through awkwardness, always steady, wild, and bold.