On the day the temporary seat switch ended, Cheng Ye was more enthusiastic than anyone else.
Before morning self-study even began, he shoved the basketball, exercise books, and half-pack of biscuits stacked on the edge of the desk back into Lin Po’s arms. He then pulled out a tissue and wiped the desk surface from left to right twice.
Holding the bundle of stuff in the aisle, Lin Po looked at him with complete confusion.
“Do you usually love being this clean?”
“No.”
“Then what are you wiping it for?”
“To welcome my new deskmate.”
Lin Po looked down at the books in his arms.
“Isn’t he your old deskmate?”
“Leaving temporarily and coming back that can count as new, too.”
“What nonsense.”
Cheng Ye ignored him and bent down to check under the desk.
Shen Zhiyao’s black long-handled umbrella was still resting by the wall where he had left it, except its position had been nudged askew by the basketball. Cheng Ye straightened the umbrella, then pushed the messy test papers in his own drawer to the side to clear enough space for the other half.
Only after finishing all this did he look toward the third group.
Shen Zhiyao was still sitting next to Xu Zhi, pulling the last book out of his drawer.
Xu Zhi handed him a bulletin board materials checklist.
“I selected six photos, and I’ll send them to you later for confirmation. The two by the window in the old teaching building are both quite good, but we can only use one.”
Shen Zhiyao nodded.
“Use the second one.”
“The one with Cheng Ye’s side profile?”
“Mm.”
Xu Zhi flipped through the sample prints in her hand.
“I think this one is better, too. Although the first one has a complete composition, the mood is too heavy. It doesn’t quite fit a spring theme.”
Hearing his name from the back row, Cheng Ye immediately stood up.
“Which one?”
Xu Zhi looked up.
“How can you hear everything?”
“It’s about me, so of course I have to hear it.”
He walked over and looked down at the printed proof in Xu Zhi’s hand.
By the window of the old teaching building, the boy stood sideways in the light, a corner of his school uniform jacket lifted by the wind, with the light blue curtain fluttering behind his shoulder.
With the photo scaled down, Cheng Ye’s face wasn’t very clear, leaving only a vague, quiet silhouette.
“Use this one?” Cheng Ye asked.
“Provisionally,” Xu Zhi said. “Got any objections?”
“No.”
Cheng Ye looked at Shen Zhiyao.
“You chose it?”
“Mm.”
“Why choose the second one?”
“It fits the bulletin board better.”
“Just because it fits?”
Shen Zhiyao packed his books into his bag.
“What else?”
Cheng Ye wanted to ask more, but Xu Zhi stashed the photos away first.
“Discuss it when you get back to your seats. We have a dictation test in the first class, and I haven’t finished memorizing yet.”
Shen Zhiyao put on his backpack and returned to his original seat.
Cheng Ye had already pulled out the chair by the window for him.
“Welcome back.”
Shen Zhiyao glanced at the desk, which was unnaturally clean.
“You wiped it?”
“Mm.”
“Why?”
“To celebrate.”
“It was only a week.”
“A week is a long time, too.”
Shen Zhiyao put down his backpack.
At the corner of the desk, there used to be a small ink stain that couldn’t be wiped off, but now it was covered by a blue sticky note. Drawn on it was a lopsided little umbrella, with two words written underneath.
Reserved.
Shen Zhiyao looked at it for a few seconds.
“What is this?”
Cheng Ye followed his gaze.
“Afraid someone else would take your seat.”
“There’s a seating chart in class.”
“Just in case.”
“Who would take my seat before morning self-study?”
Cheng Ye thought about it.
“Lin Po.”
Someone in the front row immediately turned around.
“Is my own seat not big enough for me?”
“You have a prior record.”
“What record?”
“Putting your basketball here last week.”
“A basketball isn’t a person.”
Cheng Ye patted his shoulder, telling him to turn back around.
Shen Zhiyao peeled off the sticky note. He originally intended to throw it into the trash bag, but his fingers paused at the edge for a moment.
The umbrella on the paper was drawn very poorly—one side big, one side small, and the handle was bent in an unreasonable direction.
In the end, he didn’t throw it away.
He simply tucked the sticky note into his English textbook.
Cheng Ye noticed, but said nothing, though the corners of his lips still curled up slowly.
After the morning self-study bell rang, the classroom gradually quieted down.
The two shared the window seat once again, and everything seemed to return to how it was before the temporary seat switch.
When Cheng Ye forgot his textbook, he would pull Shen Zhiyao’s book toward the middle. When the teacher turned to write on the blackboard, he would slide over a draft paper with a line of irrelevant words written on it.
Shen Zhiyao still rarely responded.
However, when those slips of paper were pushed back, they were no longer always blank.
Sometimes it was two words.
Sometimes a circle.
Occasionally, even a blunt rebuttal.
Cheng Ye seemed to enjoy this back-and-forth, always managing to find new draft paper in his drawer.
Halfway through the first English class, he wrote another line.
What are we eating for lunch?
Shen Zhiyao glanced at it and wrote:
Cafeteria.
The note was quickly pushed back.
You’re finally willing to go to the cafeteria?
Mm.
Why?
The tip of Shen Zhiyao’s pen paused.
He actually didn’t have a special reason.
It was just that over the past few days, Cheng Ye would always ask him once when the lunch bell rang. At first, he brought food back; later, he stood by the desk waiting, and if he didn’t get an answer, he would start introducing the dishes at every window that day.
The sweet and sour pork on the first floor isn’t good, the noodles at the innermost section of the second floor are decent, and the seaweed soup on the right side of the window is free, but if you go late, there won’t be any left.
Cheng Ye talked so much that even though Shen Zhiyao had only been there once, he was already very familiar with the cafeteria’s layout.
He lowered his head and wrote:
Don’t want to eat bread.
After reading it, Cheng Ye nodded and wrote again:
Then I’ll lead the way.
Shen Zhiyao replied:
I know the way.
I know.
Then why are you leading?
Cheng Ye held his pen and thought for a moment, then wrote a line on the paper.
Eating alone is very boring.
Shen Zhiyao looked at that sentence.
On the podium, the English teacher was analyzing reading comprehension, his voice falling steadily across the classroom. The sunlight outside the window was bright, and the wind blew in through the half-open crack, lightly lifting the corner of the draft paper.
Shen Zhiyao didn’t reply right away.
Cheng Ye waited for a while, then tilted his head to look at him.
“You haven’t written yet.”
The English teacher suddenly stopped.
“Cheng Ye.”
Cheng Ye immediately sat up straight.
“Here.”
“Which sentence is the topic sentence of this paragraph?”
Cheng Ye glanced down at his textbook.
His page was still stuck on the previous paragraph.
Shen Zhiyao reached out and tapped lightly on his own book.
Following the spot, Cheng Ye quickly found the answer.
The English teacher let him sit down and continued the lesson.
Cheng Ye let out a sigh of relief and added a line on the draft paper.
You saved me again.
Shen Zhiyao wrote:
Don’t talk in class.
Cheng Ye replied:
Then eat lunch together?
Shen Zhiyao didn’t write anything further.
He folded the note and pressed it into his textbook pages.
Cheng Ye thought this was another rejection and sighed softly.
When the bell rang for the end of class, just as he was about to get up, Shen Zhiyao closed his textbook first.
“Innermost section on the second floor?”
Cheng Ye froze for a moment.
“What?”
“Eating noodles.”
Cheng Ye reacted quickly.
“Let’s go.”
“Didn’t you say the seaweed soup runs out if we’re late?”
“Then we leave right after class.”
Shen Zhiyao nodded.
Looking at him, Cheng Ye couldn’t help but smile.
“Why didn’t you just agree earlier?”
“Don’t talk in class.”
“Writing notes doesn’t count as talking.”
“You still get called on by the teacher.”
“That’s because my voice was too loud.”
“At least you know.”
In a very good mood, Cheng Ye put the draft paper into his drawer.
He didn’t see that next to the last line on the paper—“Eating alone is very boring”—Shen Zhiyao had drawn a very small circle with his pen.
During lunch break, the two went to the cafeteria together with Lin Po.
Lin Po was walking ahead and only realized someone extra was beside Cheng Ye when they reached the stairwell.
He turned around to look several times.
“What are you looking at?” Cheng Ye asked.
“Checking if the sun rose from the west today.”
“What does it have to do with the sun?”
Lin Po pointed at Shen Zhiyao.
“He’s actually eating with us.”
Shen Zhiyao’s expression didn’t change.
Cheng Ye, however, frowned.
“Is eating together that strange?”
“In the past, every time you asked him, he wouldn’t go.”
“He went today.”
“That’s why I find it strange.”
Cheng Ye reached out and pushed his shoulder to move him forward.
“Say less and queue up in the back.”
The second floor of the cafeteria was a bit quieter than the first.
After buying their noodles, the three found a table by the window.
Lin Po sat opposite Cheng Ye, and Shen Zhiyao sat beside Cheng Ye.
As soon as the noodles were served, Lin Po stared at Shen Zhiyao for a long time.
“Do you dislike cilantro?”
Shen Zhiyao looked down at his bowl.
A layer of finely chopped green cilantro was scattered across the surface.
“It’s okay.”
Cheng Ye had already fetched an empty bowl from the sanitizing cabinet.
He pushed the empty bowl next to Shen Zhiyao.
“If you don’t eat it, pick it out.”
Shen Zhiyao looked at him.
“How did you know?”
“Last time, the soup at the cafeteria had cilantro in it, and you didn’t drink a single sip.”
Sitting opposite them, Lin Po’s chopsticks stopped in midair.
“When was last time?”
“Just last week.”
“How come I don’t remember?”
Cheng Ye lowered his head to unwrap his chopsticks.
“You only remember eating.”
“You observe whether other people drink soup while you eat?”
“I saw it because he was sitting next to me.”
Lin Po’s gaze circled between the two of them.
“Aren’t you a bit too good to your new deskmate?”
Cheng Ye didn’t raise his head.
“Just convenient.”
“Then why didn’t you conveniently bring me a bowl?”
“You eat cilantro.”
“I can suddenly not eat it, too.”
“Too late.”
Lin Po wanted to complain more, but Shen Zhiyao had already begun picking out the cilantro from his bowl piece by piece.
He moved very slowly.
The empty bowl Cheng Ye had brought was right by his hand, and a small pile of green leaves soon accumulated at the clean white bottom.
In the past, Shen Zhiyao didn’t like eating with others.
When alone, he could finish eating quietly without needing to answer questions or pay attention to whether others were watching.
Yet the dialogue between Cheng Ye and Lin Po hardly ever stopped.
They discussed basketball games, the math test paper handed back by the teacher, and whether to order drinks from outside the school on the day of the cultural festival.
Occasionally, when the topic turned to Shen Zhiyao, Cheng Ye wouldn’t answer for him; he would only look over and wait for Shen Zhiyao to speak himself.
“Do you play basketball?” Lin Po asked.
“No.”
“Not at all?”
“I’ve taken PE class.”
“Then that counts as knowing how.”
“It doesn’t.”
“We’ll teach you next time.”
Before Shen Zhiyao could speak, Cheng Ye chimed in first, “Don’t listen to him. He has no patience when teaching people.”
Lin Po was indignant.
“How do I have no patience?”
“Last time Chen Jiashu missed a shot, you said his hands looked like they were newly installed.”
“That was encouragement.”
“What kind of misunderstanding do you have about encouragement?”
Lin Po turned to Shen Zhiyao.
“Then let Cheng Ye teach you. He’s patient.”
Shen Zhiyao’s hand holding the chopsticks paused slightly.
Cheng Ye also looked at him.
“Do you want to learn?”
“Not for now.”
“Then tell me when you want to later.”
“Mm.”
Lin Po bit his chopsticks, his eyes growing increasingly complex.
After finishing their meal, Cheng Ye was called away by someone from the student council, who said the audio system application was still missing a signature.
He handed his meal card to Lin Po, asking him to pick up a bottle of water for him while he was at it, then turned to Shen Zhiyao and said, “Go back to the classroom first, I’ll be over in a bit.”
Shen Zhiyao asked, “Aren’t you going to the student council?”
“I’ll head back right after signing.”
“There’s still twenty minutes before the first afternoon class.”
“So I’ll make it in time.”
After saying that, Cheng Ye hurriedly went downstairs with the student council member.
Lin Po took his meal card to the window to buy water. When he returned, Shen Zhiyao was still sitting in his original spot.
“You’re not going back?” Lin Po asked.
“Waiting for you.”
“Waiting for me?”
“The meal card.”
Lin Po looked down at the card in his hand.
“Oh, right.”
He put the water and meal card on the table together, but didn’t leave immediately.
“You and Cheng Ye have gotten pretty familiar lately.”
Shen Zhiyao packed up his things.
“It’s okay.”
“Does he look for you every day?”
Shen Zhiyao didn’t answer.
Lin Po said on his own, “That’s just how he is—warmhearted to everyone he sees. In primary school, he helped classmates with duty; in middle school, he filled out sports meeting signup forms for others; and now even when the student council borrows audio equipment, they look for him.”
Shen Zhiyao looked at the bottle of water on the table.
A layer of tiny water droplets condensed on the outside of the bottle, slowly sliding down the tabletop.
“Have you known him for a long time?” he asked.
“Since middle school, almost four years now.”
“Has he always been like this?”
“Pretty much,” Lin Po said. “Whoever asks him for help, he rarely refuses. Sometimes he’s clearly exhausted, but he still pretends like nothing’s wrong.”
Shen Zhiyao recalled Cheng Ye in the empty classroom that afternoon.
Standing by the window, motionless, without a smile on his face.
Lin Po pushed the water bottle forward a little.
“Though lately, he’s been meddling in your affairs a lot.”
Shen Zhiyao’s gaze lingered on the bottle cap.
“Because I’m a new student.”
“It’s not like he’s the first transfer student in our class.”
Shen Zhiyao looked up.
Lin Po seemed to suddenly realize he had said too much and scratched his head.
“I didn’t mean anything else. I just feel like he treats you a bit differently.”
Most of the people in the cafeteria had already left.
In the distance, staff members were clearing trays, the sound of clattering chinaware coming intermittently.
Shen Zhiyao didn’t press further about how it was different.
He simply stood up.
“Let’s go back to the classroom.”
After the second afternoon class, Cheng Ye indeed returned with the signed application form.
Once he finished arranging the student council matter, he was called by the class monitor to tally the number of participants for the performances, only sitting down right before the class bell rang.
The water on the desk was no longer cold.
Cheng Ye twisted open the bottle cap and took a sip, asking Shen Zhiyao, “How were the noodles at noon?”
“It was okay.”
“‘Okay’ again.”
“Better than the sweet and sour pork on the first floor.”
“You haven’t even eaten the sweet and sour pork.”
“You’ve mentioned it many times.”
Cheng Ye laughed.
“Next time I’ll take you to eat something else.”
“Mm.”
Shen Zhiyao lowered his head to flip through his book.
Looking at him, Cheng Ye suddenly asked, “Were you a bit unhappy this afternoon?”
“No.”
“You’re talking less than usual.”
“I don’t talk much usually either.”
“Even less today.”
Shen Zhiyao didn’t answer.
He didn’t know how to explain.
Lin Po’s phrase “a bit differently” hadn’t made him feel happy.
On the contrary, that feeling of being treated specially was like a sudden beam of light falling on him, making him subconsciously want to step back.
If Cheng Ye was simply like this toward everyone, then this care held no special meaning.
Without specialness, there would be no expectations.
Nor would he feel caught off guard when losing it.
But what if it really was different?
Shen Zhiyao realized that he seemed to fear the second answer even more.
Before school ended, the PE teacher unexpectedly notified the basketball team to stay behind for practice.
Cheng Ye packed his backpack, then remembered that the hand-drawn draft for the bulletin board was still in the classroom.
He dug out the drawing paper from his drawer and handed it to Shen Zhiyao.
“Help me give this to Xu Zhi.”
Shen Zhiyao took it.
“You finished drawing it?”
“Drew it last night.”
The old teaching building on the paper was mostly completed.
Cheng Ye hadn’t copied the photo completely; instead, he had simplified some of the dilapidated details. The window frames, vines, and wall surfaces retained their original appearance, but because the lines were clean, it looked brighter than in reality.
Shen Zhiyao looked at it for a while.
“Very good.”
“Only very good?”
“Very suitable for the bulletin board.”
“You said you liked it last time.”
Shen Zhiyao raised his eyes.
“I still like it now.”
Cheng Ye seemed satisfied.
“Then when the cultural festival is over, I’ll give this drawing to you.”
“No need.”
“You promised.”
“I only promised to take the finished one.”
“This one is finished.”
“Xu Zhi still needs to use it.”
“I’ll give it to you after she’s done.”
Shen Zhiyao held the edge of the drawing paper.
“Why do you insist on giving it to me?”
Cheng Ye froze for a moment.
“Didn’t you say you liked it?”
The answer was so simple it carried no extra meaning whatsoever.
Shen Zhiyao remained silent for a moment, then placed the drawing paper into a file folder.
“I’ll give it to her.”
“Don’t wrinkle it.”
“I won’t.”
“Don’t lose it either.”
“I won’t.”
“When you go back”
“Cheng Ye!”
Lin Po stood at the classroom doorway shouting for him.
“Hurry up, the PE teacher is rushing us.”
Cheng Ye turned to call back, then said to Shen Zhiyao, “I’ll text you when practice ends.”
“Why?”
“Nothing, just habit.”
With that, he ran out of the classroom.
Shen Zhiyao stood by his seat, watching the door curtain fluttering in the wind.
It wasn’t until Xu Zhi walked over that he handed the drawing paper over.
Xu Zhi opened it and took a look.
“Faster than I thought.”
“He drew it last night.”
“Doesn’t he still have to turn in an event proposal today?”
“Mm.”
Xu Zhi frowned.
“No wonder he was yawning all morning.”
Shen Zhiyao didn’t speak.
Xu Zhi looked at him.
“Are you worrying again?”
“No.”
“The two of you even say the exact same words when denying things now.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Holding the drawing paper, Xu Zhi left.
Shen Zhiyao packed his backpack, intending to head straight home. But when he reached downstairs, he heard the sound of a basketball bouncing from the playground.
He stopped in his tracks.
The basketball court wasn’t far from the school gate.
Several team members were warming up on the court, and the PE teacher stood on the sideline arranging groups. Cheng Ye was wearing a short-sleeved jersey, his school uniform jacket draped over a nearby railing.
Shen Zhiyao stood in the shadow of the teaching building, not walking over.
The sunlight had already tilted, casting a bright light across the court.
Cheng Ye received a pass, turned to evade defense, and as he jumped, his body cast a sharp shadow on the ground. The basketball hit the backboard and dropped steadily into the net.
Lin Po shouted from the side.
After landing, Cheng Ye raised his hand to high-five him.
The two said a few words.
Shen Zhiyao was far away and couldn’t hear the contents clearly.
He had originally only intended to watch for a short while.
However, the bus wouldn’t arrive for another ten minutes or so, and he had no reason to leave immediately either.
Midway through practice, during a break, Cheng Ye and Lin Po walked over to the railing to drink water.
The spot where Shen Zhiyao stood was blocked by a tree, making it hard to notice from the court’s direction.
Lin Po untwisted a bottle cap, asking casually, “Why have you been hovering around Shen Zhiyao so much lately?”
Cheng Ye lowered his head to wipe the sweat from his forehead.
“Have I?”
“Haven’t you?” Lin Po said. “Asking him to eat, following him to take photos, and even running to the front every day when you switched seats. Today when he came back, you almost wiped a layer of skin off the desk.”
Cheng Ye let out a laugh.
“It’s not that exaggerated.”
“You didn’t really take him as some special friend, did you?”
Shen Zhiyao stood in the shadow of the tree.
As the wind blew through the leaves, light spots swayed gently on his shoulders.
Cheng Ye’s voice drifted over from half a basketball court away.
“What special friend.”
He spoke very naturally.
“He’s just my deskmate. He just transferred here and isn’t familiar with the school, so I’m looking out for him in passing.”
Lin Po asked, “Just a deskmate?”
“Of course.”
Cheng Ye draped the towel over his shoulder.
“We’ve only known each other for a few days, what kind of friend could he count as.”
The basketball dropped on the other side of the court, making a dull sound.
Shen Zhiyao didn’t continue listening.
He turned and walked along the path outside the teaching building toward the school gate.
His pace wasn’t fast, yet he didn’t look back.
The bus arrived at the stop just in time.
Shen Zhiyao boarded and still sat in the seat by the window.
As the doors closed, the whistle from the basketball court sounded from afar, quickly drowned out by the engine’s rumble.
He looked down at the backpack on his lap.
A corner of that blue sticky note peeked out from the side pocket.
Reserved.
Actually, Cheng Ye wasn’t wrong.
They had known each other for barely ten days or so.
Eaten together a few times, walked together a few times on the road after school, shared a rooftop, and spoken just a few more words than ordinary classmates.
Hardly friends.
Let alone special.
Shen Zhiyao reached out and pulled the sticky note out.
The paper had already been pressed flat by the textbook pages, and beside the umbrella handle, there was still a line Cheng Ye had redrawn after making a mistake.
He looked at it for a long time, and ultimately folded it in half, placing it into the deepest part of his backpack.
Not throwing it away.
Just stowing it deeper.
His phone vibrated at that moment.
Cheng Ye sent a message.
Did you leave?
Shen Zhiyao looked at the screen and didn’t reply.
A few minutes later, a second message came through again.
Xu Zhi said you already gave her the drawing. Thanks.
Still no reply.
The bus drove through the intersection, the shadows of the trees outside the window constantly receding.
Shen Zhiyao turned off the screen.
He told himself that this was very good.
Cheng Ye was just a deskmate.
He would remind him about homework, buy an extra portion of breakfast, and care for a newly transferred student simply because of his warmhearted nature.
All these actions could be explained.
There was no need to give them any other meaning.
At night, after Cheng Ye finished practice, he sent another message.
Have you reached home?
Shen Zhiyao was writing his physics homework.
The phone screen lit up for a long time, and he didn’t touch it until the screen automatically went dark.
The next morning, he arrived at the classroom ten minutes earlier than usual.
The seat by the window was still empty.
Cheng Ye’s English book was placed on the desk, pressing down on a box of milk underneath.
A sticky note was attached to the packaging.
Not bought extra this time, specifically for you.
Shen Zhiyao looked at it for a while, picked up the milk, and placed it on Cheng Ye’s side.
Before the morning self-study bell rang, Cheng Ye ran in through the back door.
He spotted the milk on the desk at a single glance.
“You’re not drinking it?”
“Drank some this morning.”
“You can save it for recess.”
“No need.”
Cheng Ye sensed something off with his tone.
He sat down and looked at Shen Zhiyao for a few seconds.
“Why didn’t you reply to my messages yesterday?”
“Didn’t check my phone.”
“Didn’t check at night either?”
“Mm.”
“Then do you see them now?”
“I see them.”
“Why aren’t you replying?”
Shen Zhiyao opened his Chinese textbook.
“They aren’t important messages.”
The smile on Cheng Ye’s face faded a bit.
“I was just asking if you made it home.”
“I make it home every day.”
“I know, but asking—”
“Cheng Ye.”
Shen Zhiyao interrupted him.
“You don’t need to take care of me every day.”
Cheng Ye froze.
People were constantly coming into the classroom, the sounds of moving desks, chairs, and chatter crowding together.
Yet between the two of them, it suddenly became noticeably quiet.
“What’s wrong?” Cheng Ye asked.
“Nothing.”
“Then why suddenly say this?”
“I’m already familiar with the school.”
Shen Zhiyao looked at the book page without raising his head.
“I can track homework myself, I know the cafeteria, and the bus arrives on time every day. You don’t need to do these things anymore just because I’m a new student.”
Cheng Ye frowned.
“I didn’t do it because you’re a new student”
Mid-sentence, he stopped.
Shen Zhiyao finally looked up at him.
“Then why?”
Cheng Ye opened his mouth.
He didn’t seem to have prepared an answer to this question.
A few seconds later, he said, “Because we’re deskmates.”
The exact same answer.
Identical to the one by the basketball court yesterday.
Shen Zhiyao’s expression didn’t change.
“Then let’s just do what deskmates are supposed to do.”
Cheng Ye looked at him.
“What counts as what deskmates are supposed to do?”
“Borrowing textbooks, passing homework, cleaning duty.”
“Does eating together count?”
“Doesn’t count.”
“Sending messages?”
“Unnecessary.”
“The rooftop—”
Cheng Ye paused, lowering his voice.
“Does the rooftop count?”
Shen Zhiyao’s fingers resting on the book page tightened slightly.
“That’s just a place.”
“We agreed not to tell anyone.”
“I won’t tell.”
“Then will you still go in the future?”
Shen Zhiyao was silent for a moment.
“Not necessarily.”
Cheng Ye looked at him for a long time.
The morning self-study bell rang at this moment.
Zhou Lan walked up to the podium holding her textbook, and everyone gradually quieted down.
Cheng Ye didn’t ask further.
He took that box of milk back and put it into his drawer.
Throughout the entire morning self-study, neither of them spoke.
When Zhou Lan did a random check on recitation, Cheng Ye’s name was called.
He stood up, and halfway through, he suddenly forgot a line.
In the past, Shen Zhiyao would prompt him very softly from the side.
This time, he merely looked down at his textbook.
Cheng Ye paused for a few seconds before remembering it himself.
After sitting down, he didn’t say thank you, nor did he push any draft paper over again.
The sunlight outside the window was brilliant.
Yet between the two sitting by the window, a distance farther than an aisle seemed to reopen.
When the first period ended, Cheng Ye was called to the office by the class monitor.
When he stood up, he knocked a pen off the edge of the desk.
The pen rolled to Shen Zhiyao’s feet.
Shen Zhiyao looked down at it, making no move.
Cheng Ye bent down to pick it up.
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
Polite and distant.
Just like the very first day they met.
After Cheng Ye walked out of the classroom, Xu Zhi turned around from the front row.
“Did you two get into a fight?”
“No.”
“Then why haven’t you said a single word all morning?”
“It’s class time.”
Xu Zhi looked at him.
“You used to talk quite a bit during class, too.”
“He was the one talking.”
“You would reply, too.”
Shen Zhiyao lowered his head to organize his book pages.
“I won’t anymore in the future.”
Xu Zhi frowned.
“What happened?”
“Nothing at all.”
Shen Zhiyao pulled the English textbook out from his drawer.
That blue sticky note with the little umbrella drawn on it was still tucked inside.
Because it had been folded last night, a clear crease was left down the middle.
He closed the book.
“We just weren’t really friends to begin with.”
Xu Zhi didn’t speak right away.
She looked at the empty seat, then at Shen Zhiyao’s downturned eyes.
“Did he say that?”
Shen Zhiyao’s movement froze for a split second.
“Just a fact.”
“Who determined it’s a fact?”
“We’ve only known each other a short time.”
“If you’ve known each other for a short time, you can’t be friends?”
“It’s not that we can’t.”
“Then what is it?”
Shen Zhiyao didn’t answer.
Footsteps came from the hallway.
Cheng Ye returned holding several activity application forms. Seeing Xu Zhi standing by their table, his pace slowed slightly.
Xu Zhi didn’t continue asking, turning around to return to her own seat.
Cheng Ye sat down and stuffed the application forms into his drawer.
When grabbing his book, he bumped into that box of milk.
The plastic packaging made a very faint sound.
Cheng Ye looked down at it for a moment, then took it out again.
“Are you really not drinking it?”
“Not drinking it.”
“Then I’m giving it to someone else.”
“Mm.”
Holding the milk, Cheng Ye stood up, walked to the front row, and handed it to Lin Po.
Lin Po was somewhat surprised.
“For me?”
“Didn’t you say you’re not lactose intolerant?”
“I was never intolerant to begin with.”
“Then drink it.”
Lin Po took the milk, looking at Cheng Ye, then looking at Shen Zhiyao.
“What’s up with you two?”
Cheng Ye said, “Nothing.”
He turned back to his seat.
Shen Zhiyao gazed out the window.
Sunlight fell on the glass, making the distant playground look a bit dazzling.
He thought he would feel relieved because of this.
No expectations, no longer drawing close, and no need to guess what Cheng Ye’s gestures of care actually meant.
Yet when the milk was truly handed to someone else, he finally realized that some distances, once opened up, do not make one feel safe.
They only make that originally familiar spot suddenly feel empty.
Even though Cheng Ye was still sitting right beside him.
Between them, it no longer felt like deskmates.