Zhu Xingyan’s return to school became a piece of news that was neither too big nor too small.
The happiest people were, without a doubt, the students of Class 1.
The restless and unsettled atmosphere from the previous period had vanished. During breaks, the girls no longer gathered in loud groups to gossip. Xiao Simin no longer pounded the desk and scolded anyone. Everyone began acting like model students — the classic “three-good” students who excel in morals, studies, and physical fitness.
Zhu Xingyan seemed to have been treated like a long-lost treasure that had finally been recovered. One after another, people came up to him to ask how he was doing, show concern, and offer care. His seat was completely surrounded by a crowd until the class bell rang and the group slowly dispersed.
Next month would be the twentieth anniversary celebration of Fanhua No. 2 High School’s founding.
Zhang Feng had announced early on in class that everyone should work together seriously to prepare a program.
After discussions among the literature and arts committee member Zhou Zhi and several other classmates, they settled on a stage play. Zhou Zhi herself adapted and wrote the script. After a period of polishing and rehearsal study, they finally entered the casting stage.
The original source material chosen for the play was the foreign fairy tale Cinderella. However, after Zhou Zhi’s bold and sweeping revisions, she inserted many original plot elements. The romance was toned down significantly, replaced with more absurd, romantic comedic expressions.
Most importantly, their stage play was planned to be performed entirely in English.
Because of this, the selection of actors became even more cautious. In addition to basic requirements, candidates needed an excellent foundation in spoken English.
Zhou Zhi had been troubled by this matter for the past few days. As soon as class ended, she went around mobilizing other classmates. After much persuasion, she finally gathered a full cast. After school, they tried rehearsing twice.
In the school auditorium, light slanted down from the high ceiling. The recently dismissed group scattered across the stage and below it. Zhou Zhi was still on stage holding the script and discussing with the lead actors. Song Shiyue had been given a small supporting role with only a few scenes, but one of them featured a very long monologue — that task had been assigned to her.
Dali had just finished watching their rehearsal and was giving commentary from the side.
“Overall it’s pretty good and very creative, but compared to our class’s dance performance, it seems to lack a bit of passion.”
“Passion?” Zhou Zhi heard this from the stage, immediately jumped down while clutching the script, and asked in confusion, “Then where do you think we can make up for it?”
Dali had nothing to do after school and was waiting for Song Shiyue to go home together. She had stopped by the auditorium to watch Class 1’s rehearsal and conveniently offer some suggestions.
“Well…” She rested her chin seriously on her hand, rubbing it thoughtfully as if deep in contemplation. Then she looked at Zhou Zhi, who was earnestly seeking advice, and her eyes twinkled mischievously.
“Isn’t that easy? Your class has such a unique advantage. Just pull Zhu Xingyan in — do you still need to worry about the audience lacking passion?”
“This…” Zhou Zhi hesitated. A moment later, she looked guilty. “Wouldn’t that count as cheating…”
“No, no.” Dali wagged her finger at her mysteriously. “How is that cheating? This is clearly doing a favor for the entire school. As long as you can convince Zhu Xingyan to join the performance, every student will thank you.”
The words were rough but the reasoning was sound. Zhou Zhi was almost convinced, visibly lost in a daze of imagination. Even the other classmates who heard it became eager and excited, itching to take action immediately.
Song Shiyue brought them back to reality: “He probably doesn’t like doing such high-profile things.”
“The last school incident only just settled down.”
Hearing this, the group felt as though cold water had been poured over them. They snapped awake instantly.
“Yeah, it would be too much exposure. His fans would probably get excited again if they saw it.”
“Someone would definitely post it online without thinking.”
“Then the school entrance would be surrounded by crowds again.”
“Besides… Zhu Xingyan probably wouldn’t agree anyway.” At the end, someone added weakly.
The brief beautiful dream shattered. Everyone accepted reality and gave up the idea.
The school anniversary atmosphere grew increasingly lively. The school began a thorough deep clean, maintenance of plants and flowers, and even replaced the decades-old banner at the school gate with a brand-new one.
The drama rehearsal in their class also became the focus of attention for the entire class. During breaks, snippets of dialogue scenes would pop up here and there. The deliberately exaggerated English accents triggered bursts of laughter from those around, and the best parts often earned applause and cheers.
In the second week, the program lists from each class were released one by one. Many students from their class went out to scout the “enemy situation.” During lunch break, Zhou Zhi went with a few classmates to watch rehearsals from other classes. When she returned, her face was ashen and she looked completely dejected.
“You have no idea how terrifying the art classes are. Their stage, their singing and dancing — at first glance you’d think it was a Korean girl group.”
“The vocal music class is no joke either. Their big choir could probably perform at the National Centre for the Performing Arts.”
“Compared to them, we’re basically an amateur troupe.”
The classmates who came back from watching the rehearsals all looked hopeless. The passion from a few days earlier had vanished. They slumped in their chairs, clearly in a state of self-abandonment and despair.
The atmosphere in the room was low and silent. Light footsteps approached slowly. A boy’s figure appeared at the doorway, holding sheet music in his hand, earphones on his head. He quietly passed through the rows of seats, pulled out his chair, and sat down.
Almost in unison, several pairs of eyes slowly brightened. Their gazes gathered in one direction and held there for several seconds. This chapter was copied from novelping.com without permission.
After a moment, it was Zhou Zhi who swallowed hard and mustered the courage first.
“Zhu… Zhu Xingyan, are you interested in joining our drama performance?”
Warrior.
War god.
Idol!
Her words echoed in the air. Several classmates around her could not help but stand up and applaud silently in their hearts. While suppressing their excitement, they did not dare breathe loudly on the surface. They held their breath, waiting for the reply from the person at the center of everyone’s gaze.
At his seat not far away, Zhu Xingyan’s eyes remained fixed on the sheet music in his hand. He did not look up, as if he had not heard anything, still focused and looking down.
A few seconds of dead silence passed. Someone reacted first and pointed at his ears to remind the others.
“He seems to be… wearing earphones.”
“………………”
The courage they had barely mustered dissolved into bubbles. Zhou Zhi’s face turned ashen. Her shoulders slumped. She turned to the group and forced a smile that looked worse than crying.
“I… did my best.”
She did not have the courage to ask a second time.
In the end, the task still fell to Song Shiyue.
As class monitor, she seemed naturally able to inspire confidence in others, making people place their hopes on her.
Facing so many pleading gazes, Song Shiyue neither agreed nor refused. She only said she would try.
It was just a very simple question.
Song Shiyue had planned to ask him directly after class. However, the moment the bell rang, Zhang Feng called her to the office. By the time she returned, Zhu Xingyan’s seat was already empty — he had left early.
The next day there was a surprise in-class English quiz. She was busy reviewing and spent the entire tense morning successfully finishing the paper. By then it was already the lunch break.
She looked around. No one was left in the classroom.
Zhu Xingyan actually did not spend much time staying in the classroom.
The big clean-up for the school anniversary was assigned to Class 1: the corridors of the teaching building and the rooftop terrace.
Today Song Shiyue needed to return the keys.
She glanced out the window. It was a bright sunny day, the sun brilliant and the sky a clear, pure blue.
When she went to Zhang Feng’s office that morning, he had mentioned the clean-up again and reminded her that their class’s assigned areas must be flawless.
While the keys were still in her possession, she had to make sure there were no issues.
Song Shiyue decided to go up to the rooftop terrace one last time before returning the keys.
During the lunch break, there were not many people in the stairwell. The higher she climbed, the quieter it became. By the time she reached the rooftop area, only the sound of the wind remained.
The iron door, which usually had a large lock hanging on it, was now ajar. Through the gap she could see the deep blue sky outside and the tall surrounding fence.
Song Shiyue stepped inside. Her gaze instinctively went to the left. In the corner against the wall were piles of discarded desks and chairs. In the middle, several chairs had been pushed together to form a makeshift bed. Someone was lying there, head tilted back against the chair back, eyes closed in sleep. The vast blue sky and sunlight danced across his fair face.
Her breathing stilled for a moment. Song Shiyue did nothing. She turned very lightly on her feet and prepared to leave.
A sudden cool breeze blew in, hitting the rooftop door. With a loud bang, the iron door slammed against the wall and bounced back to its original position. The abrupt noise shattered the quiet.
By the time Song Shiyue had steadied herself, the person sleeping in the corner had already opened his eyes and was looking toward her.
She returned the keys to the office.
Song Shiyue came out, returned to the classroom, and along the way told the others that Zhu Xingyan had agreed to join the drama.
Zhou Zhi and the rest were beyond excited. When they learned that Zhu Xingyan would attend rehearsals after school, they jumped up in pure joy.
“I just asked him directly.” Song Shiyue fell into a brief recollection. After a moment, she answered uncertainly, “He probably… didn’t want to refuse.”
She had already woken him up. On the vast, empty rooftop, only the two of them remained.
Song Shiyue felt like a child who had done something wrong. She unconsciously lowered her voice to explain: “I came up to check on the clean-up hygiene.”
“Oh.” A neutral, light response.
Zhu Xingyan rubbed his eyes, slowly lowered his legs from the chairs, sat up straight, and seemed to try to shake off the sleepiness.
She lifted her gaze to him and seized the opportunity to ask directly: “The class has been rehearsing a program for the school anniversary — it’s a stage play. Are you interested in joining?”
The calm air fell silent once more for a long time. Zhu Xingyan seemed to be thinking. His gaze settled on some unknown spot, his dark eyes slightly dazed and distant.
After a while, he raised his eyelashes and looked quietly at her.
“Okay.” The boy sat there and gave a gentle nod.
That evening’s rehearsal was predictably high-energy. The performance exceeded expectations.
Zhu Xingyan was given a small role, similar to Song Shiyue’s — just a minor figure mixed into the background of the male and female leads’ evening dance scene.
Their responsibility was to step forward at key moments, deliver lines, and advance the plot.
The rehearsal went unusually smoothly. Zhu Xingyan had only a few lines. After a couple of run-throughs, he had already memorized them completely and could perform without the script.
His delivery sounded very pleasant — a standard British accent.
At the end of the final rehearsal, Zhou Zhi could not hold back and blurted out: “Zhu Xingyan, you’re too amazing! Next rehearsal you don’t even need to come.”
The words landed. The surrounding classmates immediately shot her resentful glares. Zhou Zhi choked, about to frantically backtrack and salvage her careless remark, when she saw Zhu Xingyan’s lips curve into a smile.
“It’s fine. I’ll come when I have time.”
“Okay, okay!” She nodded hurriedly.
As he said, whenever Zhu Xingyan had free time, he would join their rehearsals.
Not often — perhaps two or three days a week.
The progress was very smooth. The actors’ performances grew increasingly natural and fluent. Zhou Zhi even began refining and polishing the script further.
On the day of the school anniversary performance, the program was a huge success.
A refreshing and innovative script, carefully designed plot and dialogue, plus the costumes Zhou Zhi had painstakingly sponsored and custom-made.
Dense with humor, the audience response was enthusiastic.
Zhu Xingyan’s appearance pushed the atmosphere below to a small climax.
The full-English dialogue received appreciative praise from the school leaders.
In the end, their program scored an unprecedented high for the evening and won first place in an upset victory.
After the gala ended, Zhou Zhi and the others carried back the gleaming trophy and placed it at the back of the classroom. Next to it was a group photo with every participant’s name written on it.
In Song Shiyue’s memory, the rehearsal period was the closest they ever came to Zhu Xingyan.
After school they would discuss the plot together in the auditorium. After rehearsals they would walk home along the way. Zhou Zhi loved the school convenience store’s milk ice cream and would generously treat everyone on the walk back. The outgoing classmates would eat ice cream, joke, and play around the whole way before parting at the school gate.
Song Shiyue was always quiet and rarely spoke. Zhu Xingyan mostly walked silently among the group, though others would always take the initiative to draw him into conversation.
Several times, when Zhu Xingyan’s driver was unavailable, their home directions overlapped for a short stretch.
They walked a few steps apart, one in front and one behind, passing under the lush camphor trees. Occasionally they stepped on fallen leaves. The air was always filled with that distinctive fresh fragrance.
Sometimes they talked. Most of the time they walked in quiet. The short few minutes of shared road ended at the next intersection, where they parted and went their separate ways.
By then it was already May. Among the thick green branches along the roadside, clusters of small white flowers had bloomed, releasing a faint fragrance in the evening twilight.
Later on,
The camphor trees, the twilight, the unknown fragrance in the air —
All of it froze into her memory of that summer.