When Yan Jun returned to Jinghe Road, the time had not yet passed twelve noon.
Yan Fenghang had just packed two boxed meals from a nearby restaurant, placing one portion of shredded pork in garlic sauce in front of Granny, while she dragged over a stool to sit beside the counter. Eating her meal, she chatted with the neighboring residents to inquire about what had happened recently.
Little Hui’s mother, both startled and reluctant to part with him, supported her chin and sighed, “That child was really well-behaved, and he got along especially well with Little Hui! Yesterday when he was dragged away, Little Hui even cried anxiously, running home to tell me to beat up the bad guys. Now that he’s gone, I don’t even know how to explain it to Little Hui…”
Uncle Wu also chimed in, “Since he’s Xiaojun’s classmate, maybe he’ll come back in the future. He has a cheerful personality and is very sensible. Sijia said he helped Xiaojun knead the dough every morning! Being so thoughtful, he definitely must be a sentimental person…”
Listening to their chattering descriptions, Yan Fenghang only felt it hard to believe: this son of hers who always kept to himself had actually hidden a peer in their home for a full month? And even when she came home to stay for half a day recently, she hadn’t found any trace of him at all…
Hearing from Brother Wu that his head had been injured in an accident and his thinking and behavior were like a little child’s… Yan Fenghang put down her chopsticks full of anxiety, unable to swallow her food: Sigh, I wonder how much we’ll have to pay in medical expenses!
While lost in her distracted calculations, a figure silently walked past from the street corner, brushing closely past them. Little Hui’s mother had sharp eyes and noticed that lean back, exclaiming in surprise, “Xiaojun!”
The crowd turned their heads in unison and instantly surrounded him: “Xiaojun, you’re back!”
Yan Fenghang anxiously pushed her way through the heavy obstacles, and Yan Jun’s somewhat dazed face appeared before her eyes.
She couldn’t help grabbing her son’s arm, looking him up and down with concern, terrified that he might have been hurt or exhausted. Yet Yan Jun stood amongst the crowd like a wooden puppet, feeling utterly disheartened and soul-less, his gaze completely unfocused: “Mom, I’m fine.”
“Really fine?” This rare state made Yan Fenghang unable to believe it no matter what. But her son indeed seemed uninjured, save for a somewhat dim complexion and a faint smell of sweat on him, as if he hadn’t washed in a day and night.
The surrounding neighbors also couldn’t help chiming in with questions: “Xiaojun, how is Xiao Shu? Is he coming back? Did his dad ask you for medical expenses?…”
Catching the sudden bitter and rigid expression on her son’s face under the barrage of questions, Yan Fenghang felt her heart skip a beat. She immediately blocked them off and pushed Yan Jun into the house: “You guys go back first… go back first, okay? Xiaojun, are you hungry? Mom will make you something to eat…”
“No need.” Gently pushing his mother away, Yan Jun finally responded, turning his face aside as he headed toward the kitchen: “I’ll just eat some leftovers.”
“You made this yesterday morning, didn’t you?” Yan Fenghang sighed, clearly already aware of her son’s disobedient deeds. “Mom didn’t cook… or how about you make do with these steamed buns for a meal first?”
Yan Jun slowly lowered his head, the corners of his mouth twitching uncontrollably as if trying hard to endure something. He grabbed the box of buns, tossed them directly into the freezer without a word, and then bolted out of the kitchen, running up to the attic without looking back.
Yan Fenghang stood beneath the staircase, watching and waiting with worry. The attic was quiet as death, with no roaring and no crying. After gazing upward for a long time, she ultimately didn’t chase after him, only letting out a sigh before turning back to the counter.
Outside the window, the midsummer sun blazed fiercely, its rays slanting past the eaves to cast a long, bright beam upon the windowsill.
With his eyes staring blankly at that birthday photo on the desk, Yan Jun fixed his gaze on those budding peach-blossom eyes, then suddenly rose to his feet, tossed the photo into the drawer, and shoved it shut with a heavy slam. The echoing “bang” reverberated through the attic. Downstairs, his mother softly called out “Xiaojun” with worry, but seeing no response from him, she stopped speaking as well.
This sort of thoughtfulness and understanding only made Yan Jun feel an even deeper wave of depression, causing him to turn and bury his face deep into the bedding.
…It was like jolting awake from a bizarre, distorted dream; his mind was groggy and chaotic, and his body still carried a numb, dull pain. Yan Jun breathed heavily, the air hissing as it passed through the sheets, feeling as though his lungs had a hole torn in them, leaking away every drop of oxygen.
That day in the pouring rain, he shouldn’t have picked Qin Yize up in the first place.
It was nobody. Yan Jun closed his eyes. Just someone who shouldn’t have appeared in the first place.
His phone only had 10% battery left, and its leisurely ringing tone sounded weak, yet stubbornly persistent. The boy on the bed lay prone without a care, letting the ringtone chime round after round. Finally, the caller gave up, and his mother’s phone downstairs began ringing instead.
Not long after, Yan Fenghang’s cautious footsteps made their way up the stairs to the attic, walking right to the side of the bed: “Xiaojun, your homeroom teacher just called, asking if you’re going to school this afternoon.”
The person on the bed stirred, propped himself up on his arms slowly, and kept his head lowered: “…Going,” he answered in a hoarse voice, “I’m going right now.”
Picking up his phone, Yan Jun didn’t let his mother see his face, twisting his neck away as he headed downstairs. He walked in a rush, his chaotic footsteps carrying almost a sense of panicked flight. As his bicycle crossed the street, it nearly collided with a delivery tricycle, giving Yan Fenghang a jolt of nervousness and prompting an involuntary sigh: “…Hey!”
When he arrived at school, it was just half past twelve.
The students had finished lunch and were walking around the campus in twos and threes with leisurely expressions. Yan Jun walked among them like a resentful beast, limping his way first to the school shop to buy a piece of bread, which he devoured in a few quick bites before heading to the teaching building.
Yuan Siqi and Lin鶴 (Lin He) were hiding in the top-floor stairwell as usual to puff on cigarettes, sitting on the floor with their backs against the partition wall, chatting idly and absentmindedly: “Yanyan Dong told me the Boss has been staying with Qin Yize all through summer vacation? Is that true or false? When did those two even become friends?”
“How would I know?” Lin He looked somewhat displeased, his baby face pulling into a dark gloom while his gaze turned murky. The next second, the pair heard footsteps, followed by a pair of long legs flashing before their eyes as a familiar voice rang out from above: “Give me a cigarette.”
“Boss!” Lifting his head in pleasant surprise, Yuan Siqi noticed his demeanor wasn’t quite right, instantly tightening the skin on the back of his neck as he looked him over cautiously.
Lin He reacted with lightning speed, immediately pulling out a pack of Chunghwa: “Want me to light it for you?”
Without a word, Yan Jun took the cigarette, clamped it between his lips, furrowed his brow, and leaned in close. Lin He lit it for him with practiced tacit understanding, and wisps of smoke quickly drifted out, blown by the wind toward the iron security gate leading to the rooftop.
“Boss…” Yuan Siqi weighed his words. “Where did you go yesterday afternoon?”
Dropping his head to avoid looking at them, Yan Jun quietly took a deep drag, his hunched shoulders and neck resembling an exhausted feline. Amidst the swirling smoke, he accidentally choked, breaking into a desperate, wracking cough. Lin He smoothly reached out to pat his back, soothingly saying, “Smoke slower, no rush. If you want more, there’s plenty.”
After stumbling and haltingly finishing a cigarette, Yan Jun finally raised his head, blinking hard with bloodshot eyes. Staring at the sky beyond the iron gate, he let out a long sigh before offering a self-deprecating, bitter sneer: “…Went for a spin in Shencheng, wasted eight hundred bucks for nothing.”
Yuan Siqi and Lin He exchanged blank looks, not knowing what to say for a moment.
At that moment, Luo Siyin came clicking by in her high heels, passing the stairwell with a rapid “clack clack clack” before stepping into the classroom. The three hurriedly stubbed out their cigarettes, immediately hearing her ask another classmate: “Has Yan Jun arrived?”
Yan Jun then propped himself up by his knees, waved a hand, and muttered, “I’m off.”
Yuan Siqi blankly watched his limping, slender silhouette, unable to help asking Lin He: “How come I feel like… the Boss has gotten all melancholic?”
Lin He glared at him and didn’t answer.
Yan Jun followed Luo Siyin to the head teacher’s office.
During the noon hour, there were hardly anyone in the office save for Mr. Zhong from the elite class. Seeing the two of them walk in, Zhong Jiahe immediately stood up, picked up his teacup with concern, and walked aside, looking at Yan Jun and then at Luo Siyin: “Well? Was Qin Yize led astray by him?”
Luo Siyin cast a cool sideways glance at him with no intention of acknowledging him, turning instead to question Yan Jun: “What happened yesterday? I kept calling your phone and you wouldn’t answer, where on earth did you go?”
Yan Jun slouched with his head hanging crookedly, hands behind his back, his voice vague and perfunctory: “Didn’t you guys know Qin Yize was staying with me? …I went to the hospital yesterday to see him.”
“What happened to him?” Luo Siyin saw through his lie, but didn’t expose it, simply going along with it to ask further.
“He got hit in the head by a car right near my house, so he was recovering at my place for a while.” Wearing an impatient expression that caused Zhong Jiahe to furrow his brows, Yan Jun was interrupted as the teacher stepped in to interrogate: “With such a major thing happening, why didn’t you tell his family? Or tell the teachers?”
“His phone didn’t have any family contact numbers on it, how was I supposed to tell them?” Yan Jun lifted his eyelids, a bone-deep annoyance seemingly residing within those phoenix eyes that made Mr. Zhong’s heart skip a beat, stoking his anger further: “Then you could have told a teacher! The school definitely could have contacted his parents, why didn’t you say a single word?!”
“Teacher Zhong, I’m the one questioning the student right now, please refrain from interrupting, alright?” Luo Siyin raised her eyes to glare at him with displeasure. Zhong Jiahe instantly felt he had lost face, let out a soft hum, and turned away.
Luo Siyin turned her gaze back to Yan Jun, her eyes lingering between his stubborn, downcast brows: “…How is he now? Qin Yize’s injuries.”
“He’s fine.” Yan Jun stared at the tips of his shoes, the uppers still stained with grass clippings from the villa garden the night before. “He’s doing great, he’ll be back for class in half a month.”
Luo Siyin gazed at him for a long moment, asking no further questions as she waved a hand: “Alright, you can go back. Don’t be so reckless in the future; when something needs reporting to a teacher, report it, don’t keep everything bottled up inside, understand?”
Hanging his head low, Yan Jun didn’t answer. Luo Siyin caught sight of the corners of his mouth twitching and pulling downward uncontrollably before he clamped them tightly shut, clenched his fists, and hurried out like a soul-lost stray cat.
He slept for the entire afternoon.
Yan Jun was beyond exhausted; waking up at three every morning to make steamed buns wasn’t nearly this tiring. Feeling as though he had swallowed a hundred sleeping pills, he slumped facedown across his desk, sleeping soundly and deeply, completely dead to the world.
The second period in the afternoon was the head teacher’s Chinese class. Luo Siyin walked over step by step while explaining a test paper, eventually stopping beside his desk to place a hand on the tabletop. Yet the boy remained deeply asleep, his eyes stubbornly clamped tight as if determined to sleep through this entire sultry summer.
When school let out at dusk, Yan Jun clearly had no intention of going to training, groggily shoving his stool back and turning away to head home. Luo Siyin called out to him at the back door of the classroom, her phone gripped in hand as if she had just finished a phone call:
“—Qin Yize’s dad just contacted me, asking you to pack up Qin Yize’s clothes and ID card and mail them to Shencheng. I sent the address to your mom, so you… pack them up and mail them tonight.”
“Mm.” Yan Jun kept his head lowered, dully scraping his shoe against a smudge of lead gray on the floorboards.
“Can this matter be resolved tomorrow?” As students filed past them one by one, Luo Siyin looked at him, her voice very low. Yan Jun’s body stiffened, then let out another “Mm” and nodded.
Tomorrow, it would definitely be over.
Arriving home at dusk, only Granny was at the counter, babbling away as she sorted through the coins in her tin box, muttering, “Xiao Shu isn’t here, none of the snacks are selling…”
Walking upstairs, Yan Jun saw his mother standing by his bed, picking out and matching his clothes piece by piece, neatly folding the more expensive-looking ones into a duffel bag.
Seeing him return, Yan Fenghang didn’t say anything, only asking, “Xiaojun, is this basketball jersey that boy’s?”
A white basketball top, number seventeen, which the fake child loved wearing while playing video games. Having exercised restraint all day, Yan Jun finally couldn’t hold it back at this moment, his throat suddenly tightening with a choke: “…Yeah, it’s his.”
And that photo frame, his phone, keys, backpack… He stepped forward, slowly packing up alongside his mother until every last trace of “Xiao Shu” had been scrubbed completely clean.
“Should we put that in together?” Yan Fenghang pointed once more to the red cigarette box on the desk. It was packed full of cigarette cards that the fake child had regarded as absolute treasures.
“No need, I’ll take them to give to Little Hui tomorrow.” Yan Jun bit his lip, turning his face away as he headed downstairs, “Mom, go ahead and mail this package… I’m going to make dinner.”
Ten minutes later, Yan Fenghang handed the package over to the courier and turned around, intending to head toward the kitchen. Granny suddenly called out to her, asking with dissatisfaction, “Fenghang, when is Xiao Shu coming back? Without him, I can’t even sell my snacks!”
Yan Fenghang smiled wearily: “Mom, let’s eat first, stop counting.”
“I only sold twenty-something yuan today, I can’t even eat my food…” Leaving the old lady’s rambling words behind, Yan Fenghang walked worriedly to the kitchen doorway, seeing Yan Jun wearing an apron and deeply focused on stir-frying dishes.
Atop the refrigerator beside him sat two gleaming, oversized stainless steel basins in plain sight, while beneath the counter sat two bags of Wudeli flour, merely concealed by a cloth curtain… With such obvious “evidence” around, why hadn’t she noticed it the last time she came home?
“Xiaojun,” she called out softly during a gap between stove-tending, “don’t make steamed buns anymore starting tomorrow. I ordered stock from a bun factory today; starting tomorrow at 6:00 AM, they’ll deliver the buns here. You just need to help Granny warm them up, no need to get up so early.”
The hand Yan Jun was using to wash the wok slowly paused before he resumed his movements: “Machine-made buns taste awful, the neighbors won’t buy them.”
“It’s just to fill stomachs, what isn’t food?” Yan Fenghang looked at her son with exhaustion. “I know you want the neighbors to have something happy and affordable, but is this the time to care about that? …Xiaojun, you have the college entrance exam in ten months. Waking up in the middle of the night to slave away, then going to school to sleep all morning—isn’t this putting the cart before the horse?”
Yan Jun stiffened his neck: “…I don’t want to go to university anyway.”
Choked into speechlessness, Yan Fenghang fell silent for a moment before shifting to a retreat-to-advance tactic: “Since you say that, I’ll quit my babysitting job! I’ll come back and run the breakfast shop again. If it’s tiring, it’s tiring, if I’m sick I’ll endure it—who told my son to be so worried?”
Hearing this, Yan Jun’s spine slumped inch by inch, and his head finally dropped low.
Twelve hours after regaining clarity, Qin Yize finally stopped vomiting intermittently, and his mind grew gradually clear.
He could sense that he was missing a chunk of his memory.
The missing memory was glaringly obvious, much like an unsolvable difficult problem—no matter how hard he tried or how hard he racked his brains, he couldn’t fill in that blank space.
Qin Yize lay on the bed, dozily reminiscing for a long time, but his memory persistently stopped at the exact moment he walked out of the jiu-jitsu gym… No, it seemed to go back a bit further; he remembered he had already taken his umbrella and walked across the street from the jiu-jitsu gym in the heavy rain.
Beyond that point, he remembered nothing at all.
“Don’t you know you got hit by a car?” Qin Yaodong stood by the bed, smoking a cigarette as he asked impatiently. Lying in bed, Qin Yize cast a cool, sideways glance, his eyes holding a familiar, practiced detachment: “I don’t know.”
The black umbrella had been sent flying two meters away by the impact, rolling beneath the car wheels before finally coming to rest by the roadside. In the pouring rain, Qin Yize had stood up shakily, steadied his forehead, and stumbled forward… Two seconds later, he walked behind the green belt and disappeared from view.
“Is this the only video?” He Jiuyue couldn’t help questioning her ex-husband. “You guys investigated back and forth, and only found this little bit?!”
She wore a beige professional suit with her makeup still unremoved, grease shining faintly on her forehead and the bridge of her nose. When she tossed her phone back, a faint whiff of alcohol drifted over, clearly indicating she had rushed straight to the hospital after pulling an all-night networking session.
Qin Yize lifted his eyes, quietly watching his mother. She seemed to have lost weight again; when arguing with Qin Yaodong, clear meridians stood out on her neck. Above her collarbones bulged two spots, looking as if they enclosed a pair of tiny hearts that beat faintly to the rhythm of her questioning.
“Do you know how hard it was to investigate?! That day was a torrential typhoon storm, almost all the street surveillance cameras had shifted out of position, I barely managed to dig up even this much!”
“What about that white car, did you find the driver who caused the hit-and-run?!”
“Aren’t they still investigating? What are you rushing for? If you’re not satisfied, investigate it yourself, saving me from working my fingers to the bone only to be cursed out like a dog by you!”
“Stop gilding your lily! What did you work hard on? Wasn’t it all investigated by other people?”
“Mom…” Her temple throbbing painfully from the noise, Qin Yize closed his eyes and raised a hand to tug at his mother’s sleeve: “What’s the deal with that classmate of mine?”
“—Which classmate?” He Jiuyue turned her head back with lingering irritation, looking bewildered.
Qin Yize said: “The one this morning, who suddenly opened the door to look at me and called me something like… Xiao Shu? Did he walk into the wrong room?”
Qin Yaodong furrowed his brow upon hearing this: “He came by? …Didn’t I have people send him back to Pingcheng?”
He Jiuyue frowned and glared over: “What is this about?!”
“Tch!” Qin Yaodong clicked his tongue impatiently. “Wasn’t Yize hit by a car! It just so happened his classmate ran into him and took him home. Later, that fellow even brought Yize to Xinghe Water Garden to scavenge a bunch of stuff, and even took his ID card. Who knows what he was planning to do…”
Hearing this, He Jiuyue instinctively jumped to the wrong conclusion: “Did he secretly use Yize’s money?”
Qin Yaodong fell into a subtly nuanced silence for two seconds: “…That he didn’t. The money in the bank card was completely untouched, he only took ingredients from the fridge and some clothes.”
“Then what malicious speculation are you making?!” With such an obvious mistake present, He Jiuyue naturally wouldn’t let it go: “You should properly thank him. If he hadn’t covered for you, who knows what condition Yize would be in right now! If he had accidentally ended up in the social news, heh… I’d like to see where you’d put your face!”
“I have no face, do you think you have face? For this whole month, have you called Yize once? Have you cared about him? What qualification do you have to blame me!”
Qin Yize lay on the bed in silence, his brow furrowed slightly, clearly long accustomed to such arguments. His ears buzzed from the noise, as if ten thousand needles were piercing his eardrums. Covering his ears, he rolled over onto his side and closed his eyes, yet Yan Jun’s soul-lost face refused to go away in his mind.
It was the first time he had ever seen that person completely at a loss—his eyes reddened, looking as if he had been struck by lightning, as though he might burst into tears the very next second.
…But he didn’t cry. He only sat there dazed and dejected for a moment before getting up and staggering away.
That posture of fleeing in defeat inexplicably reminded Qin Yize of a line from a movie:
“He looks like a stray dog.”
Three days later, Qin Yize returned to Pingcheng.
Qin Yaodong was somewhat impatient: “Why go back so soon? The edema in your brain hasn’t even subsided yet. If you bounce around and cause something to happen, don’t pin it on me again.”
“What kind of talk is that?” He Jiuyue was deeply angered. “What do you mean by pinning it on you? Weren’t you responsible for Yize getting hurt earlier, what are you being so sarcastic for?”
“—Relax, I won’t pin it on you.” Refusing to look at him, Qin Yize went straight to grab his mother’s arm: “Mom, come back with me! I can’t sleep well here, I’m dying of exhaustion.”
He Jiuyue anxiously touched her son’s head and stopped bickering with her ex-husband, immediately packing up her luggage and driving back to Pingcheng.
On the way, Qin Yize flattened the front passenger seat and put on an eye mask to catch up on sleep. He Jiuyue originally didn’t want to disturb her son’s rest, but her phone kept ringing nonstop with continuous calls coming in:
“President He, when are you coming back? There are several contracts that need your signature.”
“President He, the meeting with Shenyao has been delayed for several days, do you think…”
“President He, please approve a workflow…”
He Jiuyue had no choice but to slow down the car and patiently reply time and time again: “I’ll sign an authorization letter for you, use my signature stamp; cancel the meeting for now, I’m delayed for a few more days, I’ll call Shenyao myself to apologize; the workflow is approved, check it…”
Qin Yize listened quietly and suddenly piped up: “Mom, go back and get to work. My injuries are no big deal, just resting quietly is enough. There’s a cleaning service at home, and I’ll have the community property manager help find a nanny who cooks hourly, my daily life will be fine.”
“It’s fine, I’ll stay with you three more days, the company won’t grind to a halt just without me.” Unmoved, He Jiuyue turned off her phone and tossed it backhand into her bag.
Returning to their home in Xinghe Water Garden, the two happened to run into the cleaner tidying up the place. The cleaning lady looked at the scar on his forehead in surprise and asked with concern, “Little handsome, how did you get hurt?”
Qin Yize put down his luggage bag and smiled politely: “Bumped into something by accident.”
He Jiuyue supported her son back to his room, taking the opportunity to instruct: “Auntie, please help tidy up the luggage. There are a few dirty clothes inside that need washing, remember not to use hot water… Oh, and throw away those slippers, discard them.”
Slippers? Finally lying down on his familiar, comfortable bed, Qin Yize recalled what those slippers looked like: old beige slippers whose decorative lines had peeled off the upper surface. The soles were also worn quite badly, causing him to slip twice in the bathroom.
Thinking to himself why his mother even brought back the hospital slippers… he pulled the duvet up and fell asleep out of sheer exhaustion.
When he woke up at dusk, the cleaning lady had already left. On the table was a meal prepared by the hourly cook—three dishes and a soup, quite sumptuous.
He Jiuyue called him over to sit down, casually placing a bowl piled high with rice in front of him: “I put your phone and ID card on the nightstand. They were mailed over the past two days, and your dad only gave them to me this morning… There were some things in your pants pockets, the aunt didn’t throw them away, they’re pressed on the coffee table. Once you have some energy, take a look yourself to see if you want to toss them.”
“What kind of things?” Qin Yize asked instinctively.
“Photos,” He Jiuyue said. “Seems like they were taken at your classmate’s house… I must say, they came out really well, smiling brightly like sunshine.”
Qin Yize froze, involuntarily trying to imagine what an “expression of sunshine” on Yan Jun would look like, only to find he couldn’t picture it at all. He stopped his chopsticks and let out a baffled, dry chuckle: “Heh, unbelievable… he actually took care of me for a month.”
“What, you two didn’t get along?” He Jiuyue asked offhandedly.
“Is that so?” He Jiuyue looked slightly surprised, getting up from the coffee table to bring over two photographs. “I saw the two of you with your arms around each other’s shoulders and thought you got along great.”
Upon seeing that carefree smile, Qin Yize couldn’t help feeling his heart skip a beat. A sense of shame mixed with embarrassment rushed up, akin to being exposed for something embarrassing he had done as a child in front of everyone, leaving him with only the urge to escape.
He Jiuyue said with a trace of nostalgia: “This photo looks like you when you were little. You smiled just like that on your birthday.”
Qin Yize looked away: “I’m pretty much the same now.”
Did I really get that close to him?
Qin Yize frowned in disbelief, gazing at them in confusion for a long time.
Three days later, He Jiuyue took her son back to the hospital for a follow-up checkup. The doctor looked over the newly taken scans for a while and said there was nothing major, the edema was slowly recovering, and he just needed to continue resting quietly.
Qin Yize put down his phone and gave his mother a smile: “Didn’t I say so? Everything’s fine. Mom, you should go back, I’m going to school tomorrow too.”
“Remember not to overtax your brain, you hear?” He Jiuyue admonished him repeatedly with lingering worry. “This month is all about resting, leave reviewing for later. You don’t need to make up those test papers either, I’ll help you throw them away when I leave.”
Qin Yize was amused by his mother, his smiling eyes revealing helplessness: “…Mom, you don’t have to go that far.”
He Jiuyue wouldn’t bargain with him. The moment they got home, she packed his folder containing the test papers straight into her bag with zero room for negotiation: “Your grades are already good enough, you don’t need to push yourself like this anymore. Second place or tenth place doesn’t make much difference in Mom’s eyes. Anyway, the college entrance exam isn’t your only way out, you don’t have to drive yourself so hard…”
Seeing his mother off at the doorway, Qin Yize stared at the corner of the folder protruding from her bag, pulling a perfunctory, synthetic smile: “Alright, I know.”
The moment the elevator doors closed, the smile vanished from his lips, and he walked back into the living room expressionlessly. In the WeChat group chat, Ren Yandong eagerly sent him a message: “Are you feeling better? Are you coming to school tomorrow?”
You Xinyao didn’t say much, simply spamming the group chat with her usual mini-game revival links, only dropping a question a few days ago: “Did Yan Jun confiscate your phone and hold you captive doing forced labor at his place? Did your dad finally manage to retrieve your phone for you today?”
Amused, Qin Yize chuckled and replied: “I’ll be at school tomorrow, I’ll fill you guys in on the details then.”
Putting down his phone, his eyes dropped to the coffee table where those two photos had been pressed flat again. Pondering for a moment, he reached out and tucked them securely into his exercise workbook.
Early the next morning, the sky was overcast and dreary, looking as if rain was about to fall. Qin Yize hailed a cab to school. When the car arrived at the gates and he had just steadied himself while opening his umbrella, he was intercepted by Ren Yandong.
“Qin Yize!” This big dummy parked his bicycle right beside him through the light drizzle, a look of escaped-from-death relief plastered across his face: “I—I thought I’d never get to see you again!”
“No,” Qin Yize cast an amused sideways glance at him. “How come both you and You Xinyao think I was enslaved by Yan Jun? Am I really that weak in your eyes?”
“It’s not that you’re weak, it’s that he’s really fierce!” Ren Yandong explained earnestly, “During the summer vacation when I played basketball with his crew, he inexplicably glared and acted fierce toward me several times, you know? You aren’t as flexible and able to bend as I am, what if you pissed him off…”
Thinking of those two intimate photos tucked inside his exercise workbook, Qin Yize gave a faint smile and shook his head: “I’m fine, those injuries weren’t dealt by him.”
The two walked unhurriedly toward the bike shed, chatting idly as they parked their bikes. Many students hadn’t brought umbrellas, rushing in through the rain in a fluster while complaining and locking up their beloved rides: “Damn! I thought it wouldn’t rain until noon, should’ve gone back home to grab an umbrella…”
Amidst the complaints, another boisterous voice rang out: “Boss, your clothes are all soaked! Share my umbrella with me later…”
“No need.” The refusal came fast, low, cold, and succinct, like a sharp-edged block of ice.
“Ah,” Yuan Siqi nearby raised a hand to point over here, “Ren Yandong!… and Qin Yize.”
“Yan Jun.”
Putting away his umbrella, Qin Yize called out to him unhurriedly.