When the dismissal bell rang, a crowd immediately swarmed around her.
“Shen Qingyou, you’re amazing!”
“How did you study? Teach me!”
“Third place! And you’ve only been here two months!”
Shen Qingyou stood in the middle, a little at a loss.
Li Hongmei helped block them off. “All right, all right, she still needs to get home! Everyone scatter!”
The crowd gradually dispersed. Li Hongmei took her hand, her face full of smiles.
“Qingyou, you got third place! Your third uncle is going to be so happy!”
Shen Qingyou paused, then her eyes curved into a smile.
Third Uncle.
She hadn’t even thought about how Third Uncle would react.
Would he be happy? Would he praise her?
As she thought about it, her heart filled with anticipation.
She picked up her report card from Teacher Zhou, folded it neatly, and tucked it into her pocket. Before school ended, she took it out several more times to look at it, afraid of creasing it.
On the way home, she rode fast, her mind racing the whole time.
When she saw Third Uncle, how should she tell him?
Should she just hand him the report card directly?
Or tell him first that she got third place?
If he praised her, how should she respond?
What if he didn’t react at all?
She thought it over and over the entire way.
At the gate, she jumped off her bike, leaned it against the wall, took a deep breath, and pushed the door open.
In the yard, Yan Tingxu was moving things into the house. When he saw her come in, he stopped what he was doing.
Shen Qingyou walked over and stood in front of him.
“Third Uncle.”
Yan Tingxu looked at her.
She pulled the report card from her pocket and handed it over.
“The results are out.”
Yan Tingxu took it and looked down.
Third place in the class.
He looked at it for two seconds, then raised his head.
“Mm.”
Just one syllable.
Shen Qingyou froze.
He… just said “Mm”?
That was it?
She stood there, waiting for him to say something more.
But he didn’t say anything else. He returned the report card to her and went back to moving things.
Shen Qingyou clutched the report card and stood there, not moving for a long time.
She looked down at the paper.
Third place.
She had thought he would praise her.
Or at least crack a small smile.
But he just said “Mm.”
She turned and walked toward the kitchen.
While cooking, her heart felt heavy and dull.
She chopped vegetables more slowly than usual, and she nearly burned the stir-fry.
She couldn’t understand it.
She got third place. Why wasn’t Third Uncle happy?
Did he think third place wasn’t good enough?
Did he want her to get first?
She thought about it, and her nose grew a little sore.
But she forced the feeling back down and continued cooking.
At dinner, Yan Tingxu sat across from her as usual, eating the meal she had made.
She stole a glance at him. His face still wore that cool, indifferent expression—completely unreadable.
She lowered her head and continued eating.
After the meal, Yan Tingxu went to wash the dishes.
She went to clear the table and suddenly noticed a piece of paper on the chair where he had been sitting.
She picked it up and froze.
It was her report card.
She had thought he had returned it to her, but he hadn’t.
He had kept it in his pocket the whole time.
Quietly, she placed the report card back where she found it and pretended not to have seen anything.
…
The next morning, Shen Qingyou got up to make breakfast.
On the stone steps by the gate, there was another small box.
She paused, bent down, and picked it up.
The box was wrapped in red silk cloth with a bow tied on top.
She opened it and was stunned.
Inside was a brand-new fountain pen.
A Hero brand pen. The cap was engraved with a small flower. The body was sleek and black, gleaming with quality. It looked expensive.
In those days, a Hero brand fountain pen was a prized possession—most people wouldn’t bring themselves to buy one.
She held the pen in her hands and stood there, not moving for a long time.
She looked up toward the main room.
The door to the main room was closed. The windows were closed too. Nothing was visible.
Clutching the pen, she turned and ran to the main room.
She pushed the door open. Yan Tingxu was putting on his coat, about to head out.
When he saw her come in, he paused.
Shen Qingyou held up the pen. “Third Uncle, this is…”
Yan Tingxu glanced at it.
“A reward for doing well on the exam.”
Shen Qingyou stood there, and suddenly her nose grew sour.
She lowered her head, blinked hard, and when she looked up again, her eyes curved into a smile.
“Thank you, Third Uncle.”
Yan Tingxu looked at her, his gaze lingering on her face for a moment.
“Keep up the good work,” he said.
Shen Qingyou nodded vigorously. “Mm!”
Yan Tingxu didn’t say anything more. He put on his coat and went out.
Shen Qingyou stood there, holding the pen, unable to stop herself from smiling like a fool.
So Third Uncle was actually very happy for her.
He just didn’t say it.
…
That night, Shen Qingyou lay in bed, tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep.
She took out the pen and looked at it again and again in the moonlight.
The little flower on it was just like the one on Third Uncle’s sweater.
She pressed her lips together, put the pen away, and placed it by her pillow.
She got third place this time.
Next time, she would get first place.
To make Third Uncle even happier.
…
On the twenty-seventh day of the twelfth lunar month, Shen Qingyou woke up just as the sky was beginning to lighten.
Something was on her mind, and she couldn’t sleep.
Lying in her blanket, she stared at the ceiling for a long while, then sat up and pulled the sweater out from her cabinet.
Dark gray yarn, neat and even stitches. The small flower on the chest was hidden in the pattern, barely noticeable unless you looked closely.
She held the sweater, turning it over and over, inspecting it several times to make sure there were no dropped stitches, no loose threads—that everything was perfect.
Today, she would give it to him.
Whether Third Uncle liked it or not, she would give it to him.
With that thought, she folded the sweater neatly, placed it at the head of her bed, and got up to make breakfast.
After breakfast was ready, she sat in the kitchen waiting.
She waited for a while, but the door to the main room didn’t open.
A little puzzled, she walked over and knocked.
“Third Uncle?”
No answer.
She pushed the door open and looked inside. The room was empty. The quilt on the bed was folded neatly. The teacup on the table was still warm. But he was gone.
She was taken aback. She stepped back out.
Maybe Third Uncle had some business matters and left early.
She thought this to herself, then went back to the kitchen, kept the breakfast warm in the pot, ate a little herself, and returned to her room to wait.
The sweater lay at the head of her bed. Every time she looked at it, her heart felt a little warmer.
When Third Uncle came back, she would give it to him.
…
The sun slowly rose higher, shining on the windowsill.
Shen Qingyou sat by the bed, holding the sweater, waiting.
The yard was quiet. Occasionally, a sparrow would land, chirp a few times, and fly off again.
She waited for a while, then stood up, walked to the window, and looked out into the yard.
The door to the main room was closed. There was no one outside.
She walked back to the bed and sat down.
She would wait a little longer.
Maybe he would be back soon.
…
The sun climbed higher and higher, until it was noon.
Shen Qingyou went to the kitchen again to reheat the breakfast. She ate a couple of bites herself and left the rest warming.
She returned to her room, picked up the sweater to look at it, then put it back down.
She walked to the window and looked out into the yard again.
Still no one.
She stood at the window, staring at the closed door of the main room, and a strange unease began to creep into her heart.
Where had Third Uncle gone?
Why wasn’t he back yet?
She thought of that day in her past life, the day the news of his accidental death had arrived.
It had been winter, just like this. She had waited and waited, but what came wasn’t him—it was a piece of paper.
She stood there, her palms suddenly breaking out in a cold sweat.
No.
This life was different.
Third Uncle had just gone out on business. He would definitely come back.
She told herself this, walked back to the bed, and sat down to wait again.
…
The sun began to tilt westward, and the sky gradually darkened.
Shen Qingyou had lost count of how many times she had paced around the room or how many times she had looked out into the yard.
Every time she heard a noise outside, she would run out to check.
But it was never him.
It was the neighbor’s door closing.
It was the wind rustling something.
It was a sparrow flapping its wings.
None of it was Third Uncle.
She stood in the yard, looking at the closed door of the main room, and suddenly felt a little foolish.
She didn’t know where he had gone. She didn’t know when he would be back. Yet she just stood there, waiting.
But she didn’t want to go inside.
What if he came back the moment she left?
So she stood in the yard, the cold wind whipping against her face, freezing her ears red.
After standing for a while, she suddenly remembered the sweater.
She ran back to her room, grabbed the sweater, and held it in her arms as she continued waiting in the yard.
That way, when he came back, he would see it right away.
…
The sky turned completely dark.
Shen Qingyou didn’t know how long she had been standing in the yard. Her feet were numb from the cold.
She looked down at the sweater in her arms. The dark gray yarn was barely visible in the darkness, save for the little flower on the chest, faintly discernible.
She looked toward the entrance of the alley again.
It was pitch black. There was nothing.
Clutching the sweater, she slowly walked back to her room.
The food in the kitchen had long gone cold. She had no appetite. She placed the sweater at the head of the bed and lay down in her clothes.
Even lying down, she couldn’t sleep.
She stared at the ceiling, her ears straining to catch any sound from outside.
She didn’t know how much time passed. Her eyelids grew heavier and heavier.
Before she knew it, she had fallen asleep, still murmuring in her dream: “Third Uncle… you’re back…”