The wound started to scab over after four days. Ten days later, only a faint white scar remained. She secretly threw away the sweatshirt she was wearing that day. She couldn't throw away her school uniform, so she had to lie to Chen Ma, saying she'd accidentally scraped it on a metal rack in the equipment room during gym class. After a lecture about being careful, she got a brand-new set. The matter passed just like that, much like how the spectacular fight ultimately became just a small memory from her high school life. Later, when they passed by the construction site again one day, Jing Qichi suddenly asked, "What were you even thinking that day, daring to take them on?"
"One-on-one" was something Jing Qichi and Song Cong often said when they were messing around. It applied to soccer, to seeing who could eat faster, and even to wrestling each other when they were bored. After Huan'er joined them, she suggested they switch to the English version. It was more international, she said, and sounded much classier. That day, she was betting on the tacit understanding between the three of them. She was ninety percent sure, with the remaining ten percent of doubt being that they might not have heard her clearly in that environment.
Luckily, or perhaps as expected, she won the bet.
As for battle analysis and fighting methods, those were things she had been trained in since childhood. Like one plus one equals two, they were imprinted in her mind, ready to surface when needed.
"I was just thinking, what would these two weaklings do without me," Huan'er replied to him.
She didn't want to share her story with anyone. She only told them jokingly to keep a low profile and not to publicize it.
With New Year's Day approaching, the class began to discuss their performance. The previous year, the arts committee member had led a group of girls in a modern dance, but after the classes were reorganized, that powerhouse and her crew had all left for the liberal arts track. Liao Xinyan had since taken over the arts duties. During the class meeting, someone suggested a poetry reading, but someone in the know immediately shook their head. "We'd be clashing with Class 9." Someone else suggested they just sing a song, but after a round of jeering, they couldn't pick a suitable person. Another person simply threw up their hands and advocated for giving up, which made Liao Xinyan anxious. "You'd better get up there and run a lap, even if you have to do it naked."
The whole class burst out laughing. The boy who had spoken pulled a long face. "Even if I ran naked, I'd need an audience."
Half the class meeting went by with no result. A mischievous boy offered a plan. "Why don't we just get a few people to be Football Babes and do a cheer routine? Jing Qichi can do some Fancy Tricks. How is that not a performance?"
"Count me out. Don't drag me out to take the fall for every little thing," Jing Qichi lazily vetoed.
The words "Football Babes" had the adolescent boys' minds racing. They all turned to look back. "What's wrong with sacrificing your good looks for a bit? Don't you have any sense of collective honor?"
Huan'er also turned around and giggled, only to have her head furiously ruffled by the person in question. "What are you getting all worked up about?"
Liao Xinyan maintained order from the teacher's desk. "If there are no other ideas, should we settle on this?"
One part anxiety, three parts responsibility, and six parts personal bias—in Liao Xinyan's heart, this performance, which was still just a vague idea, was already a perfect ten.
"Let's go with that," a boy in the back row who often played soccer said, looking at Jing Qichi. "If you're afraid of embarrassing yourself, we brothers can go on stage with you."
And so, the performance was decided: three boys and five girls. Song Cong was forced to participate under Jing Qichi's childish declaration of "If you don't do it, I won't either." In contrast, choosing the girls was much easier. There were only a few who could dance and had the right image. The class president gave the word, and that very evening, rehearsals began with great enthusiasm.
When Qi Qi arrived, Huan'er was helping everyone move desks to clear a space at the back of the classroom. She pulled her friend, who was observing from the doorway, right inside. "What, have we forgotten each other so quickly?"
During dinner, she had messaged Qi Qi about the New Year's rehearsal. They still had the habit of going home together, and though their schedules often didn't align, it was always necessary to communicate beforehand. Qi Qi had said she wanted to come and watch, which naturally delighted Huan'er.
"No, it's just that I'm..." Qi Qi felt a little awkward, because among the people who remained, three faces were complete strangers to her.
"It's fine." Huan'er put her arm through hers and warmly introduced her to the others. "This is Qi Qi. She used to be in our class too."
A girl who knew her from before asked, "Qi Qi, what's your class's performance?"
"Jazz dance," Qi Qi said with a smile, then leaned closer to Huan'er. "Where are the other two?"
"They went with the class president to borrow a soccer ball."
Just as she said that, Liao Xinyan returned with two boys. Jing Qichi strode over to Qi Qi. "Hey, I thought you'd left already."
"No, I'm watching your performance," Qi Qi replied distractedly, her gaze fixed on Liao Xinyan, who was gesturing animatedly while talking to Song Cong.
Their... relationship seemed to have gotten even better.
"By the way, Huan'er," Liao Xinyan called out, turning around with a sweaty brow. "Could you help me take the English quiz papers on my desk to Teacher Zhao? She's waiting for them."
"Okay," Huan'er answered and immediately sprang into action. Liao Xinyan blew her a kiss. "Thanks."
"No problem." Cradling the papers, Huan'er passed by Qi Qi, said, "Wait for me," and jogged out of the classroom.
Qi Qi silently grabbed her schoolbag and chased after her, stopping Huan'er in the hallway. "She just orders you around like that?"
"It's not that serious." Huan'er shook her head with a smile. "The class president didn't even eat dinner today because she was choreographing the performance. She's busy discussing the formation with Song Cong right now. She already has so much to do, she's probably under a lot of pressure."
"Then why didn't she ask someone else?"
Huan'er guessed her friend was indignant on her behalf and quickly explained, "Everyone else is in the performance. I'm the only one with free time. Besides, Xinyan and I are closer. She's a really great person, she definitely didn't mean anything by it."
Chen Huan'er was now Liao Xinyan's good friend.
Liao Xinyan, the girl who made her feel uncomfortable just thinking about her.
At that moment, Qi Qi suddenly felt like an outsider—the science building she hadn't been to in a very long time, the Class 5 that no longer belonged to her, the unfamiliar faces she didn't recognize, and even the four-person squad she had thought was rock-solid was about to replace a member.
The person being replaced was her.
Hurt, sad, and unwilling to accept it.
She bit her lower lip and asked, "I want to go back. Are you leaving after you're done?"
For Qi Qi, this question represented a crucial opportunity—
Right now, Huan'er, please choose.
"I..." Huan'er read a different kind of emotion in her friend's eyes, but she couldn't discern what it represented, let alone how strong it was. She just tilted her head. "If you're in a hurry, you can go first? I'm going to wait for them."
The robbery incident had left a shadow of considerable size. The construction site was the same as always, and she didn't dare risk it again. She hadn't mentioned this to Qi Qi, because telling her would inevitably lead to a host of explanations about the reasons why—a private space Chen Huan'er reserved only for herself.
"I'm leaving now." After saying this, Qi Qi ran off without looking back. She heard Huan'er's voice behind her, but her tears seemed to have blocked her ears, muffling the sound so completely that she didn't hear a single word.
Her friend, Chen Huan'er, had already made her choice.
Qi Qi no longer waited for them to go home together. She kept brainwashing herself until she was completely convinced from the inside out—why wait? It was only a ten-minute drive, and everyone would go their separate ways one day. One evening, she came home late and happened to see Class 5 rehearsing on the sports field. The performers were dancing quite well, and Liao Xinyan was leaning on Huan'er's shoulder as they watched with relish. As she passed by, Huan'er happened to turn her head. Qi Qi pretended to be on the phone and walked away quickly without looking at them. Just as she left the school gate, she received a message from Huan'er: "We're almost done. Where are you?" Qi Qi replied, "I already left. I have a tutoring session."
From beginning to end, she couldn't bring herself to tell the truth. For Qi Qi, lying was a form of self-protection.
With only a week left before the official performance, one of the participating girls suddenly announced she was transferring to the liberal arts track. Liao Xinyan was furious. "Why didn't you say you were transferring earlier? Do you think we're all just playing around?"
This year's New Year's performance was organized by class, with a final competition for the best acts.
She said this in front of all the participants. The girl, unable to bear the loss of face under everyone's gaze, argued back, "Do you know how much effort it took for me to convince my parents? Now that they've finally agreed, if I can't go, will you take responsibility? I don't care if you call me selfish. Compared to sitting in class every day understanding nothing, I'd rather be cursed to death."
The girl started crying as she spoke, pouring out her grievances. "I don't understand anything, I can't do anything. If I don't leave now, I'm finished."
Everyone went up to console her. It's okay, it's not a big deal, don't worry about it. Compared to a person's future, a performance was truly insignificant.
Song Cong was always the most rational one. He told Liao Xinyan, "There's still time. If we really can't find someone, we can change the formation."
"Right," Jing Qichi chimed in. "Class President, don't be so anxious. There are always more solutions than problems."
The girl's tears flowed like a spring as she stammered out an apology. "I'm sorry... I know I've let everyone down... but I really told you guys first. I haven't even told Teacher Xu yet..."
Liao Xinyan stood on the periphery, watched for a moment, then pulled Huan'er away. "Go find your deskmate."
"Du Man? We're not that close." Huan'er followed behind her for a stretch. Seeing Liao Xinyan's brisk pace, clearly still fuming, she hesitated before speaking. "Hey, don't blame her."
For a long time, Chen Huan'er had felt that way—unable to understand in class, unable to comprehend the material. Even when getting water, she would step back and yield, feeling a head shorter than everyone else. The scariest thing wasn't grades that wouldn't improve, but the self-doubt that came from working hard with no results. I'm dumber than others, I'm less talented, this is my fate, I'm hopeless. Severe self-doubt could destroy a person. A seventeen-year-old's mind was not yet mature enough to accept the vast diversity of the world, nor could it handle a version of oneself that was temporarily unsatisfactory simply because their shining point had not yet been found.
Liao Xinyan stopped. After a moment, she slowly shook her head. "I understand."
It seemed all class presidents were like this. Their grades weren't necessarily the best, but they were always the most like adults.
It was only then that Huan'er learned that Du Man had participated in aerobics competitions in middle school and had even won awards. Her solid foundation made her the best replacement.
Only three or five students were left in the classroom studying. The room was empty and quiet at night. Liao Xinyan called Du Man into the hallway, concisely explained the situation, and waited for a reply with wide, blinking eyes.
Du Man was silent for a moment. "I think I'll pass."
"Don't say that. This is an emergency," Liao Xinyan said, nudging Huan'er with her eyes. Receiving the signal, Huan'er joined in the pleading. "Please reconsider. There's only a week left, it won't take up too much of your time."
"Yeah, rehearsals are only during lunch and after evening self-study," Liao Xinyan urged. "You already have a foundation, so you'll definitely learn quickly. Besides, the New Year's party is such a great chance to showcase yourself. Don't you miss the feeling of being on stage?"
Du Man looked at her, then seemed to make up her mind. "I don't like aerobics at all, and I hate performing. I'm sorry."
After she finished, she returned to the classroom, her back as still as a statue.
Liao Xinyan slumped against the hallway wall. "It's over, it's over. What are we going to do now?"
Huan'er thought of the two girls from other classes who often came to see Du Man. One of them was the leader for the school-wide exercises. The three of them often laughed and chatted in the hallway, looking like they had known each other for a long time. Du Man sat frozen in her seat for a long, long time, her left hand stroking the black and blue mark on the side of her right finger.
Doesn't like it?
This year, it seemed everyone had learned to lie. I went to bed early last night. I didn't review at all. I didn't write a single word for the last question. I was very healthy as a child. I'm not participating because I hate aerobics. I definitely didn't rush to finalize the performance for a certain someone. The strange thing was, even though we knew the lies were laughably clumsy, we still told them, as if to find a grand excuse for the cowardly and incompetent self within us. We let that self run wild for a little while.
The skill of lying became more refined, but the nature of the lies grew more complex.
In the end, Liao Xinyan had no choice but to step in herself to complete the performance. With the vibrant, youthful girls, the unique Fancy Tricks, and the star power of Jing Qichi and Song Cong, Class 5 won second place in the competition. Afterwards, the group went to the milk tea shop by the school gate to celebrate. Liao Xinyan was a little dejected, feeling that she had messed up a few moves and dragged everyone down. Jing Qichi comforted her, "The first-place winner was a large-scale magic show. You should first ask them how much they spent on renting props."
One of the male performers teased her, "Yeah, Class President. You traded a few bucks for a prize for the whole class. Be content."
The prize was five cases of canned coffee, bearing the school's earnest hopes.
As they chatted about amusing moments from the performance, Jing Qichi nudged Huan'er. "I haven't seen Qi Qi around lately."
"She's busy with tutoring. She's probably trying to push hard for the final exams," Huan'er replied, though in truth, she wasn't sure if the answer her girlfriend had given her was real.
Something was definitely, quietly changing.
Thinking of this, she took out her phone and sent a message: Qi, we're all at the west gate of the school. Have you gone home yet?
After they finished their milk tea, everyone said they were tired. Someone stood up. "Let's head out. We still have homework to do."
Until the very end, Qi Qi never replied.
OpenNovel