In the drizzling autumn rain of October, the rain had stopped by the time school was out.
Hua Ting, carrying her pink Snow White backpack, stood by Bei Yao's desk waiting to walk home together. Feeling uneasy, Bei Yao waved her hand and said, "You guys go ahead first. I have a stomachache and need to use the restroom."
Hua Ting acknowledged and left with another little girl.
Bei Yao dawdled her way to the restroom.
The fourth-grade girl wore her pea-green dress, her hair tied high in a ponytail. Without bangs, her large eyes sparkled like crystals.
Pei Chuan leaned on the desk for support as he stood up. After everyone had left, he slowly made his way out of the school alone.
He carried a black backpack, devoid of the cartoon heroes and fighters that adorned his peers' bags—his was simply plain black. Pei Chuan's gait was somewhat peculiar; he walked very slowly, like a snail climbing a green branch, putting effort into every step.
Bei Yao secretly peeked out with her small head, then shouldered her backpack and trotted after him.
As she approached, the nearly ten-year-old boy sharply turned around.
She halted awkwardly, watching him through the chilly post-rain air of October.
Pei Chuan's gaze was cold. Bei Yao quickly lowered her head and walked past him.
Only after she had gone some distance did Pei Chuan continue on his way.
The road home hadn't been repaired yet, so they had to take a small path. The path was longer, requiring a full thirty minutes to walk. Pei Chuan needed even more time, as he had only recently been fitted with his prosthetic leg, and his severed limb ached faintly after prolonged use. He could only walk for a while before resting.
He didn't like acquaintances seeing him struggle on his way home, so he usually waited until all his classmates had left before slowly setting off.
Watching the girl's figure disappear ahead, Pei Chuan felt a faint, almost imperceptible surge of irritation.
What did she mean by that? Did she stay late on purpose to mock him? Was she that curious about how a cripple walked?
Sparrows hopped onto the branches as her youthful, lovely figure grew farther away.
~
Ding Wenxiang, a sixth grader, was playing in the sand.
The road hadn't been repaired yet, and the main path was piled high with cement and river sand. He and three other sixth-grade boys were playing in the sand together.
He was the leader of the group, with poor grades. His mother had threatened that if he didn't improve, she wouldn't let him attend junior high.
Ding Wenxiang knew his mother was just scaring him, but his life was already ruined, so he didn't care much about continuing his studies. He'd heard from Brother Qiang that working could earn him a decent amount of money too.
Sand trickled through his fingers. On his right hand, his ring finger and pinky were missing.
They had been severed by a fodder chopper when he was a child, back when his rural grandmother wasn't watching him closely.
At twelve, Ding Wenxiang was much taller than the other three boys. Someone knocked over a sand wall and brought up some news: "Ding Wenxiang, did you know there's a boy in fourth grade at our school who has no legs?"
Of course, Ding Wenxiang knew. He clapped his hands and said, "I've seen him. He uses a wheelchair."
"Right, but I heard a couple of days ago that he has legs now and can even walk."
Ding Wenxiang's eyes widened.
"Really, I'm not lying. He can walk now; he's been walking home these past few days. Do you think he got a fake leg? How can a fake leg work like a real one?"
"A prosthetic leg?Ding Wenxiang looked at his own incomplete right hand. "I have to go see for myself."He immediately abandoned his sand pile. A sixth-grade boy said, "I know, he takes that small path after school, walking really slowly, like a turtle crawling. I'll take you there."
Ding Wenxiang and his group bypassed the main road, backpacks slung over their shoulders, rushing energetically toward the small path.
Pei Chuan walked step by step, slow but steady. His pitch-black pupils paused as he watched several older boys approaching with ill intentions.
He didn't know them, so after a brief hesitation, he continued forward.
Ding Wenxiang stared unblinkingly at his legs, then reached out to grab Pei Chuan's collar. "Hey kid, don't move. Let me see your prosthetic leg."
Pei Chuan's dark pupils showed no emotion as he silently reached to pry off the hand.
Ding Wenxiang had initially thought this seemingly weak cripple two years his junior posed no threat, but he hadn't expected that hand to twist his left arm with such painful force. Forced to release his grip, Ding Wenxiang grew even angrier.
Twelve-year-old boys possess boundless destructive energy and are particularly concerned with face. Ding Wenxiang commanded, "Hold him down!"
A swarm of children rushed forward, pressing Pei Chuan to the ground.
"Get off!" Pei Chuan finally lost his temper. However strong his arm strength might be, it couldn't overcome several boys two or three years older than him.
The small path was muddy all over. Already unsteady with his prosthetic leg, once his center of gravity shifted, he was pinned to the ground, his cheek right beside the filthy mudwater. The recently rained-on road surface filled his nostrils with the fishy smell of earth.
They held down his face and arms. Pei Chuan knew what they intended to do. The calm vanished from his face as he struggled like a crazed young animal: "Let me go! All of you let me go!"
Ding Wenxiang's hand still hurt from earlier. He kicked Pei Chuan, imitating his mother's cursing: "You little bastard."
Ding Wenxiang crouched down to untie Pei Chuan's shoelaces. Pei Chuan's shoelaces were unusually long, wrapped several times around and tied outside his pant leg—he didn't want to reveal the differently colored prosthetic leg beneath.
With the shoelaces undone, if they lifted Pei Chuan's pant leg, they would reveal the completely temperatureless prosthetic leg underneath.
This happened to be the peak after-school period.
Third graders and younger students from first and second grade walked along the small path, playing and joking. Many witnessed this scene, and someone whispered, "That's Ding Wenxiang from sixth grade."
The notorious Ding Wenxiang from school.
Small groups of children watched with wide eyes, but no one dared to step forward.
Pei Chuan's fingers dug into the mudwater. For the first time, he felt the desire for everyone to die—if they were all dead, how wonderful that would be!
As the shoelaces on Pei Chuan's right leg were untied, Ding Wenxiang whistled a tuneless note. He reached to lift the boy's pant leg.
A sharp pain struck his back. Ding Wenxiang screamed and turned around fiercely.
A little girl in a green jacket, holding a branch as thick as three fingers, struck his back again.
Bei Yao was terrified. In her limited memory spanning two lifetimes, she had never been in a fight.
Ding Wenxiang glared at her. Her hands trembled, yet she tightened her grip on the branch and stood in front of Pei Chuan.
"Let him go," she said, hitting each of the hands holding Pei Chuan down.
The sixth graders cried out in pain, and someone kicked Bei Yao.
She started crying too.
It hurt so much. Biting her lip, Bei Yao still refused to drop that branch.
Half of Pei Chuan's handsome face remained in the mudwater as he coldly watched everything unfold from his position on the ground.He saw Bei Yao cry for the first time. She wept while swinging a thick tree branch, striking the group of boys. She said, "I'm going to tell Teacher Cai, and I'll tell my uncle too! My uncle is a police officer—he'll have you all arrested!"
Ding Wenxiang cursed loudly, then said, "If you weren't a girl, I'd kill you today!" He turned to the other students who were frightened by the mention of "police" and snapped, "Let's go! Why are you still standing here?"
They all left.
Even the younger children who hadn't dared approach earlier glanced back repeatedly as they headed home.
Only when the path was completely empty did Bei Yao finally break down into sobs.
She remembered this scene.
It was an identical memory, except in her previous life, she had been among those younger children. In the end, Pei Chuan's pant leg had been rolled up, revealing a cold prosthetic leg that looked different from a normal one.
All the children had shown fear and curiosity. She had been pulled back a step by her best friend, who whispered, "That fake leg is so scary."
He lay in the mud, his dark eyes fixed on her as they gradually lost their light.
After that day, Bei Yao never saw Pei Chuan wear his prosthetic leg again. He returned to his wheelchair.
But this time, she had run back.
Clutching a heavy branch, crossing years of time, Bei Yao crouched beside him. Tears streaked across her fair, soft cheeks.
"Wahh..."
Pei Chuan's lifeless eyes shifted, turning to look at her.
She dropped the branch, her body trembling as if she were more terrified than he was. Frowning, Pei Chuan pushed himself up with his arms.
His clothes were soaked with mud, all traces of neatness gone.
Expressionless, Pei Chuan gritted his teeth and stood up from the ground.
Wild grass by the path cut into the skin of his palms.
He looked down at Bei Yao. Her almond-shaped eyes were brimming with tears as she sobbed, utterly lost. A girl like her might only fight like this once in her entire life.
Pei Chuan started walking slowly forward.
After many steps, he finally glanced back. She was still crouched there.
"Bei Yao." He called her name for the first time, his tone calm. "Let's go home."
Bei Yao looked back, her large eyes red and swollen like a little rabbit's. She sniffled, "Okay."
Then she struggled unsteadily to her feet and followed behind him.
The belated sunset peeked over the horizon. He didn't comfort her or wipe her tears, simply listening to her cry all the way home.
"Pei Chuan, I'm a little scared."
"Hmm."
"Will I get a public reprimand?"
"...No."
"I'm in pain."
"Hmm."
She rubbed her eyes with her soft little hands. "Will we walk home together tomorrow?"
After a long silence, he replied, "Okay."
This year, Bei Yao didn't yet know that the cold boy beside her would one day repay her childhood tolerance and warmth with a lifetime of devotion and obsession, multiplied manifold.
Autumn leaves spiraled down in swirls.
Bei Yao's soft long hair gradually grew, shifting from shoulder-length to reaching below her shoulder blades. The ends of her hair were slightly yellowish with gentle curls, resting against her chest. Because her hair was finer than other girls', it felt exceptionally soft.
While most children's voices were hard to distinguish by gender, Bei Yao's milky voice hadn't truly faded yet.
From fourth grade to sixth grade, Pei Chuan attended school using his prosthetic leg. He started with slow, shuffling steps, but eventually could walk as fast as any normal teenager. He no longer stayed home during winter and summer breaks—instead, he put on boxing gloves and began learning how to fight.In the first month of sixth grade, we heard that Ding Wenxiang, who had moved up to eighth grade, was beaten up by a group of troublemakers and hospitalized.
The incident caused barely a ripple, fading from the teenagers' memories after just two days of gossip over meals.
In April during the second semester of sixth grade, Teacher Cai suddenly announced, "The pear and peach blossoms are in full bloom. Our class will go on a spring outing tomorrow."
That year, spring outings and similar activities hadn't yet been banned.
After a moment of stunned silence, the classroom erupted in continuous cheers.
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