There was no other noise in the tent; in the silence, only a young boy was talking to himself.
Xingyuan lay sprawled at the edge of the bed and sighed, “He really is too outstanding, both in ability and in personality. As for who he likes… he should like someone who’s evenly matched with him.”
As Xingyuan spoke, he consciously lowered his volume. He pressed down on his throat, carefully glancing around, then his deer-like eyes narrowed into slits as he quietly moved closer to Aisley. “Actually, I’ve also fantasized about what it would be like if we were together.”
Aisley’s eyelashes moved slightly, and the fingers of one hand unconsciously tapped out a rhythm on the bed.
Xingyuan coughed, “Although according to the description, he might not necessarily have a… cough, a heart that likes cute things.” Xingyuan, having grown up to this age, could guess well enough from the offhand remarks others made about him what kind of image he had in other people’s minds.
Xingyuan’s eyes glanced down and to the right, “But, if he were to like me, given his personality and behavioral habits, he’d very likely have a psychology of cute aggression, and then…” He paused for a moment, then stammered, “He’d probably bully me, and I can’t beat him either, so I’d most likely be suppressed one-sidedly. Although he probably wouldn’t hurt me, I’d still be left breathless.”
This belonged to Xingyuan’s own imaginings, and although he thought “no one” could hear him, saying it out loud like this, in front of a living, breathing person no less, was unavoidably a bit embarrassing. Xingyuan’s face flushed slightly; he sat up straight, pulled his book back over to read, and pretended nothing had happened.
Aisley also slowly turned his head back, and only after the boy was no longer in his field of view did he open his eyes and resume breathing.
The boy’s words echoed in his ears. Aisley’s eyelids moved slightly, his expression rather unnatural. After a moment, he chuckled softly under his breath.
This kid — truly clever.
****
“Xu Mo, let’s go together after school, whatever figurine you want, I’ll get it for you.” Xingyuan took a yogurt out of his backpack and placed it in front of Xu Mo’s desk. Xu Mo looked up at Xingyuan and said flatly, “I’m not going, I need to study.”
This scene was witnessed by Zhang Xin, who sat in the corner. Zhang Xin sneered coldly, his eyes mocking.
Suddenly, a classmate walked past him, and his backpack bumped heavily into him. Zhang Xin’s brow furrowed; he looked down at the desktop, his expression twisting again. His hand gripped the corner of the desk tightly, his whole body trembling as if suppressing something.
After a moment, he could no longer hold back his emotions and walked out of the classroom with his head down.
In the restroom. Zhang Xin crouched in an empty corner, staring at the floor, his eyes straining wide open. Finally, he clutched his head, his expression pained.
Why did that person bump into him? Was it on purpose or by accident? Was this person targeting him? He’d clearly been bumped — why didn’t the other person apologize? The force hadn’t been light; he didn’t believe that person hadn’t felt it. Did that person look down on him, despise him from the bottom of his heart? …
A series of negative emotions swept through his mind; he felt cold all over, as if the whole world were full of malice. Zhang Xin was in agony; he forcibly suppressed his uncontrollable emotions, but tears had already begun falling without heeding his will. This made him even more on the verge of collapse.
He didn’t want to cry — it made him look weak. He hated why tears always held him back, why such a thing as tears even existed… Zhang Xin breathed heavily, his eyes laced with bloodshot veins. Then he reached out his hand, two fingers held rigidly straight, aiming them right at his own eyes. He wanted to gouge his eyes out.
In the end, he still didn’t dare.
Zhang Xin stayed in the restroom for a long time, and only once his mood had gradually settled did he wipe away his tears and walk out. He even found himself wondering — why had he thought that way just now?
By the time he returned to the classroom again, he ran into Xingyuan. Xingyuan looked him over several times before asking with a natural smile, “Zhang Xin, are you free after school? I… I have a part-time job, could you keep me company? It’s only three hours, and the pay is one hundred star coins.”
One hundred star coins — for many people, that was about what they earned in a whole day.
Zhang Xin pressed his lips together; there was a struggle in his eyes, along with a trace of the awkwardness and shame of being seen through. Many indescribable expressions flickered across his eyes, but they quickly dissipated.
He suddenly thought of the conversation between Xingyuan and Xu Mo just now. At the time, Xingyuan had indeed wanted Xu Mo to accompany him to do something, but Xu Mo had flatly refused him…
Zhang Xin looked at Xingyuan’s clear eyes and unconsciously nodded along. The hand at his side clenched lightly, and in his heart he silently repeated to himself: One hundred star coins…
Before this, Zhang Xin hadn’t thought that a rich second-generation kid’s abilities would be much greater than his own.
Not until the part-time job that evening, when he watched the wealthy young master greet customers with a smiling face — no matter how the other person was dressed, the young master consistently maintained the proper humility and respect toward everyone. The young master had a very good temper; no matter how much a customer lost theirs, he would coax them with kind, patient words. He often bent at the waist, even though his waist had been perfectly straight to begin with.
He suddenly found his thinking changing.
In his spare moments, Xingyuan would read, looking very earnest about it — at least more focused than Zhang Xin was.
Zhang Xin watched him, then turned his face away and exhaled deeply. Some people — not only were they richer than you, they worked harder than you too.
This conclusion did indeed strike Zhang Xin hard, but instead of stirring up negative emotions in him, it made him lower his head and fall into deep thought. Maybe his own situation was like this because he himself simply hadn’t worked hard enough.
Xingyuan’s job couldn’t really be counted as a part-time job — this shop belonged to Xingchen Crafts, which was also Xingyuan’s own family business. Today was this branch store’s opening day, and Xingyuan didn’t want to be an idle young master who did nothing but coast off his family’s wealth, so he’d decided to work as a store clerk for the day, to get down into the grassroots level and understand the business firsthand.
Just before closing up the store, Xingyuan handed Zhang Xin his pay for the day, and with a smiling face, also gave him a figurine priced neither too high nor too low. When Zhang Xin took the figurine, his hand paused noticeably, but he still accepted it. He thanked Xingyuan, and afterward went home alone.
It was hard to imagine that the Imperial Capital Star still had slums like this. Zhang Xin walked into a narrow lane, the air thick with a foul stench, the ground filthy and cluttered. Overhead, a metal covering shrouded the whole area, leaving everything dim, damp, and oppressive below. Zhang Xin seemed used to it. His neat school uniform formed a stark contrast against the filthy surroundings.
He held his hand over his smart brain — the one hundred star coins inside were really and truly there.
He let out a breath of relief, and turned his gaze toward a cheap goods store not far away. He bought a pair of girls’ shoes, understated in style and the cheapest in price. After hesitating for a moment, he put the shoebox into his backpack and carried it home.
His home matched the overall look of the slum — dilapidated walls, broken furniture, and in some places, the wind even leaked through.
His parents were very good to him. Smiling, they asked him whether his schoolwork was difficult. Zhang Xin shook his head, putting on an entirely relaxed expression. “Not hard. Very easy to learn.”
His parents let out a breath of relief, then asked what part-time job he’d been doing. Zhang Xin took out the shoes and handed them to his younger sister, ruffling her hair, and then showed his parents his account balance.
His parents’ tired faces broke into smiles. “That’s really good. As long as it doesn’t get in the way of your studies, you can keep doing it.” Zhang Xin paused for a moment, then nodded.
After dinner, Zhang Xin discovered his sister’s shoes had been taken away, and he hurriedly asked his parents about it. His parents were surprised. “Such new shoes — how could she wear them now? At the very least, she has to wait until her old shoes are worn out before switching.”
Zhang Xin closed his eyes briefly. Holding back his anger, he pulled his sister over and, right in front of his parents, took off the pair of shoes she was wearing — shoes so worn out they couldn’t be any more worn, so misshapen they’d lost their original form. His sister’s eyes lit up with surprise, even something like disbelief.
His parents blamed Zhang Xin for making a fuss over nothing. “Weren’t we wearing things like this back on Nidi Star too? Why is it that as soon as we get here, you’ve learned to compare and compete with others?”
Zhang Xin breathed heavily, and looked up to ask, “Compare and compete? What does that even mean? I’ve never once asked for anything expensive. I just want to live like a normal person. Shoes that cost 5 star coins, 10 star coins — as long as they’re not torn or worn out, that’s fine. Is even that too much to ask?”
His parents were left speechless by the question. They mumbled awkwardly, “Still, you shouldn’t wear something quite that cheap.”
Zhang Xin sneered coldly. He took his sister’s hand and went back to their room. The moment the door closed, he held his head in his hands and took a long while to recover. Finally, he forced a smile and took out the figurine Xingyuan had given him from his backpack.
His sister was instantly captivated by such an exquisitely made doll; she hugged it, unwilling to let go. “Brother, I want to hide it in my room, so no one can see it.” Excitement shone in his sister’s eyes.
Zhang Xin was silent for a moment, then crouched down and coaxed her gently, “Good girl. Bring it to school with you tomorrow.”
Zhang Xin never believed in any of those feel-good platitudes about life. He only knew this: a person’s dignity gets worn away bit by bit, imperceptibly, until in the end they don’t even dare meet other people’s eyes. He didn’t want his sister to walk the same path he had. He didn’t ask to be more outstanding than others — only to not fall below the ordinary standard, because only then would he have the standing to speak to others as an equal.
Once he left the room, he heard his parents once again tallying up the family’s savings. His parents were plagued by constant illness, big and small, and the family simply couldn’t manage to save any money. Zhang Xin held his head in his hands, a struggle flashing through his eyes.
At some point, without realizing it, he walked over to stand in front of his parents and said in a low voice, “You don’t need to give me money for the next few days. What I have left is enough.”
His parents made a token protest or two, then agreed.