“Someone once said that youth is a river that never flows back,” a youthful female voice drifted from the nearby sports field. Filtered through the air and the green bamboo leaves, the words arrived slightly blurred. “These three years at No. 1 High…”
The student representative had begun her speech. Fang Rulian heard the faint applause, each clap echoing the frantic acceleration of her own heartbeat.
Fang Rulian stopped her clown-ish fake smile and protested. She sat frozen on the bench, the sunlight filtering through the gaps in the leaves, splashing across the hollowed-out metal chair and her body, dazzling her eyes.
Belatedly, she realized she had overreacted. To an observer, her behavior was indistinguishable from someone whose defenses had been shattered by a direct hit.
Even if that were the truth.
This question wasn’t impossible to answer or defend. Fang Zhiyi’s intent might not even have been what Rulian feared. “Like” has many forms; familial love is a kind of liking. Fang Zhiyi was still a high schooler who knew nothing; she was always well-behaved and had rarely encountered something as “rebellious” as homosexuality.
Rulian had overreacted, but since she hadn’t given a straight answer, she could still scramble to fix it.
Haha, Sister was just joking with you. Why aren’t you talking? Did I scare you? Oh, of course I like you. You’re my sister, my family. I’ll always like you.
The appropriate answers rehearsed a thousand times in her mind, but they remained buried deep in her throat. She didn’t want to say anything. At this moment, she didn’t want to hide her emotions either. Cold-faced, she stood up. “I’m not playing anymore.”
A simple question from Fang Zhiyi had thrown her into total disarray. The girl might have been oblivious, but Rulian’s guilty conscience had made her confess through her reaction. To her, that question felt like a humiliation.
Even as her logic returned, it didn’t stop her from feeling exasperated.
Her high heels clicked loudly as she charged out without looking back. Her swinging arm was suddenly intercepted mid-air.
A cool palm gripped her burning wrist. Fang Rulian turned around. The girl remained sitting on the bench, her porcelain face showing a hint of the panic Rulian had caused. She looked up and tried to explain, “Sister, I didn’t—”
Fang Rulian didn’t want to hear it. She twisted her wrist, reversing the grip to pin the girl’s wrist against the back of the bench. She leaned forward, her hand clamping onto the girl’s chin, pinching her cheeks.
Casting a heavy shadow over the girl, Fang Rulian struck first with a cold barrage of words:
“Fang Zhiyi, are you done? Say it or don’t. Do you think I actually care who you’re secretly in love with? Huh? Heh. Go ahead, have your puppy love, receive your letters, go confess! It’s none of my damn business! Just don’t come looking for me when you end up stuck with a mess and a bunch of rotten people!”
She finished through gritted teeth, let go, and turned to leave.
Her shoulders trembled with tension. Her steps were hurried and heavy. The tap-tap-tap of her shoes annoyed her further; she wished she could throw the damn things away—she had only put them on after getting out of the car to look good for the photos.
…
The Aftermath of the Storm
Only when she reached the shaded path did it feel cooler. Fang Rulian reached up and felt her neck slick with sweat. She pursed her lips and slowly stopped walking, looking down at her shoes while her peripheral vision stole a glance backward.
The girl was still following not far behind. When Rulian stopped, the sound of the light footsteps also ceased.
Rulian closed her eyes, thinking: Don’t come over. Let me be quiet for a while. If you come over now, I might lose my temper again.
She thought to herself that she really didn’t have the talent to be an older sister. Her heart was flawed, her temper was bad, and yet her pride was sky-high. Her anger was mostly directed at herself—at her inability to commit to change, at her heart that wouldn’t stop stirring, at Zhiyi’s phone call, and at the way she kept finding “noble” excuses for her own jealousy.
She returned to the spectator stands, looking spiritless.
Fang Hong and Mu Yunshu were chatting with the parents in the row in front. Seeing her return, Fang Hong said, “That was a long trip just to throw away trash.”
Rulian felt drained. “Mm. I went to wash my hands.”
A neighboring parent had left early, leaving a seat open. Mu Yunshu pulled her down to sit. Sensing her mood was off, she asked softly, “What’s wrong?”
Only then did Fang Rulian realize she wasn’t just angry; she felt a bit wronged. She didn’t answer, but she slumped down into the seat, looking like a deflated balloon. The moment her arm wrapped around Mu Yunshu’s, her entire posture collapsed.
Pressing her forehead against the woman’s shoulder, she breathed a bit raggedly, forcing a calm tone. “Nothing. Maybe the weather is too hot; I feel a bit dizzy.”
Mu Yunshu touched the girl’s ear and gently patted her shoulder. “Want some water?”
Hearing the gentle voice, Rulian shook her head. Her eyes closed, her nose stinging. After a long while, she silently mouthed the words: I’m sorry.
…
The Silence at Home
The graduation ceremony ended at noon. After lunch, the four of them returned to the school for more photos and to pack Zhiyi’s luggage. By the time Rulian drove home, moved the luggage upstairs, and came out of the shower drying her hair, the wall clock pointed to 5:00 PM.
She poured a glass of water and sat on the sofa to check her phone. She had recently passed an audition for a role, and filming was starting soon. She needed to study the script a few more times before heading back to Luwei in two days.
As the sun moved west, the light in the room dimmed. Rulian’s gaze naturally lifted, landing on a pile of books on the table—books Zhiyi had brought back that hadn’t been moved to the study yet.
Her eyes scanned the spines of the books until she froze. She leaned in and pulled one out—it was The Seventh Day.
She had thought it was lost at school; she had even called Zhiyi to offer to buy a replacement. Zhiyi had said not to bother. Now, the old book had been found.
Rulian flipped through a few pages and heard footsteps behind her. Without looking up, she said, “Turn on the light.”
With a soft click, the living room brightened. “Where are Mom and Aunt Mu? I don’t see them.”
“Out grocery shopping,” Fang Zhiyi walked over to the coffee table, looking down at Rulian’s empty glass. “Do you want water, Sister?”
Rulian still didn’t look up. “Get me a glass of warm water.”
She tilted her head. After a slight sound, her rounded fingernail pressed against a page that hadn’t been fully cut. Her peripheral vision rested on the floor—on someone’s shadow. With a light push of her thumb, the two pages easily pulled apart.
“Warm water.” Fang Zhiyi sat on the sofa nearby. Seeing Rulian holding the book, she looked puzzled. “Oh… I found that book in the bottom drawer of the study. Maybe you put it there and forgot.”
Rulian curled her lip slightly. “My memory hasn’t been great lately.”
The two fell silent. The water dispenser hummed in the corner. The air grew stagnant, and even the sound of turning pages disappeared, leaving only two breaths faintly intertwining in the silence.
Fang Rulian stared at page number 38 for a long time, feeling like she was sitting on needles.
Ever since their “argument” this morning—or rather, Rulian’s one-sided outburst—they hadn’t spoken. That flash of anger was simply because her heart was “impure,” and Zhiyi had accidentally poked the sore spot. Rulian realized it and regretted it, but the words of explanation died in her throat.
She was usually optimistic and socially graceful after years in the entertainment industry, yet for some reason, she had a bizarrely high sense of pride when it came to Fang Zhiyi. She was stuck on a high pedestal; unless Zhiyi offered a way down, it was hard for her to speak.
“Sister.”
Rulian looked up, her fingertip sliding down the page. She heard Fang Zhiyi say, “About this morning… I’m sorry.”
In the end, it was Zhiyi who offered the olive branch first. Rulian felt a flash of joy, but comparing their reactions only brought more frustration.
She realized, slowly and bluntly, that whether in their fractured family bond or her own self-conceited love, it was always the younger Zhiyi who tolerated her arrogance and whims. Those eight years they spent together were sustained by Zhiyi’s familial patience.
Does Xiao Yi love me?
Rulian found the question cruel, but she actually knew the answer. She had asked it once, back when she thought they were both happy, when she deluded herself into thinking she saw a flicker of passion in Zhiyi’s eyes—but Zhiyi had turned her head away, avoiding Rulian’s expectant gaze.
Xiao Yi was a good kid; she didn’t want to give a perfunctory lie, but she couldn’t bring herself to hurt the sister who had been with her since childhood. Rulian had clutched that soft-heartedness like a lifeline, overdrawing their sibling bond and mistaking Zhiyi’s silences for permission.
Fang Zhiyi has someone she likes.
So… during those years trapped in Rulian’s pathologically possessive grip, did Zhiyi ever wake up at midnight, staring at the ceiling and thinking—if it weren’t for Sister, would I be sitting at a seaside cafe with my beloved right now, instead of counting years in this cage?
“No need to say sorry,” Rulian lowered her head and gave a small, bitter smile, forcing a light tone. “I’m the one who should say sorry. I acted out. I was just too angry that you wouldn’t tell me, so I overreacted.”
She composed herself and looked up with a bright smile. “I must have scared you, huh? Oh… sometimes I can’t control my emotions. When I’m in a fit, I say all sorts of nonsense.”
She added with a forced, cheerful regret, “Don’t take those messy things to heart. You will always be my sister.”
Sensing her performance was stiff, she didn’t give Zhiyi time to react. She immediately stood up with the stack of books. “Don’t just sit there. Put these books in the study; it’s a mess keeping them here.”
Zhiyi stood up abruptly. “Oh, okay.”
Rulian walked ahead, sighing in relief the moment she turned around. She immediately changed the subject. “Didn’t your school have a book buy-back? Why bring so many back? I remember we used to sell them for pocket money.”
“The school didn’t allow the buyers in. I threw away what I didn’t want; these are extracurricular books I’ll read later.”
“Didn’t allow them in?” Rulian pushed the study door open with her foot, using her elbow to hit the light switch. “Maybe the school sold them secretly.”
“I don’t know.”
Zhiyi remained a woman of few words. The topic ended there.
Walking back to the living room, Rulian grabbed her water glass and drained it. As she turned back to the dispenser, she heard Zhiyi’s muffled voice from behind:
“Sister, I only drank a little bit last night. And I only called you. After hanging up, I didn’t call anyone else.”
Placing her cup on the tray, Rulian pressed the cold water button. The sound of the water rose in pitch until it was nearly full. She took a sip; the overflowing water ran down her fingers into her sleeve.
“Mm-hmm, it’s not a big deal.” She turned and smiled at Zhiyi. “Dating is normal once you’re an adult. This morning, I hadn’t thought it through. I still thought of you as a high schooler and got a bit impatient.”
“I’m not some old fossil from the Qing Dynasty,” she walked over. “I don’t oppose it; in fact, I should encourage you to date. But you have to judge the other person’s character from many angles. Also… don’t be in a rush to get intimate—”
Fang Zhiyi suddenly choked. Rulian glanced at her, then leaned back against the sofa and laughed. “If you do, make sure to use protection…”
If Rulian hadn’t forcefully broken her path in the past, Zhiyi should have been like most people—dating normally, marrying, and having children.
She stared at the ceiling light, her eyes feeling a bit sore. “I won’t say the things that are awkward to hear. It’s all on the internet; use your search tools well.”
Zhiyi didn’t respond.
The light was a bit dazzling. Rulian looked down and pulled out her phone to call Fang Hong to see if they were back yet; she was getting hungry.
As the dial tone began in her ear, Zhiyi spoke:
“Doesn’t Sister want to help me ‘vet’ them anymore? You were so strongly against it this morning.”
Vet them?
Rulian looked up, the mockery in her eyes almost impossible to suppress.
Because I’m not exactly a “good person” myself, little sister.