Jiаng Du wаs complеtеly stunned. Shе had no idеа whаt wаs hарpening; shе only knew that Wei Qingyuе hаd just wraрpеd аn аrm аround hеr shоuldеr, his tоnе familiаr, as if she werе his girlfriеnd.
Like thоse camрus couрles, seсrеtlу dаting but аlwауs discovеrеd by оthеrs—уoung bоys аnd girls.
Jiаng Du stared аt him stifflу, at а loss.
The mаn was cleаrlу disрleаsed that Wei Qingуuе hаd interruрtеd his sсhеmе, glаring fierсеly аt the bоy. From thе stairs, thе сrеaking sоund rеsumеd—thе shop ownеr was coming down.
Seеing this, the man hurried аway. Wеi Qingyuе immеdiatеly turned and walked over to the owner, saying something, leaving Jiang Du standing there alone, still dazed as if in a dream. Her ears burned uncomfortably.
When Wei Qingyue’s gaze fell on her again, Jiang Du quickly avoided it, reaching out a hand as if searching for a book.
The owner handed her the book she wanted.
Wei Qingyue had come to buy bootleg CDs. After paying, he turned and glanced at Jiang Du, who was queuing behind him. “Heading back to school? I have something to say to you.”
The boy was completely straightforward, but the owner’s gaze swept meaningfully over Jiang Du. Worried that he might misunderstand her as dating someone early, she felt flustered and, after a slight delay, didn’t speak, only nodding.
The two of them walked out one after the other. The cold wind and rain instantly hit their faces. The sky was darkening, the distant horizon layered like stacked dark moss, and the streetlights had already lit up.
“That pervert was acting like that—why were you still staring at him?” Wei Qingyue twirled his umbrella handle slightly, looking puzzled. He truly couldn’t understand the way girls thought.
Jiang Du still hadn’t processed it. She pursed her lips innocently and shook her head. “I don’t know what happened.”
Wei Qingyue explained succinctly, “It’s called exhibitionism. Stay away from creepy perverts like that in the future. If you notice something off, don’t confront them—just run.”
Jiang Du didn’t even grasp the three characters. Seeing her expression, Wei Qingyue spelled it out word by word: “Expose, shady, obsession. Aren’t you good at Chinese? It’s not hard to understand.”
In an instant, realization, embarrassment, lingering fear, and disgust—all these emotions exploded in her chest. Jiang Du instinctively tightened her grip on the umbrella handle, clutching the book tightly against her chest with her other hand, looking at Wei Qingyue in disbelief.
“But I didn’t see it clearly,” she blurted out, her mind short-circuiting.
Wei Qingyue first raised an eyebrow in surprise, then suddenly laughed, not entirely kindly. “You wanted to see it clearly? What were you thinking?”
The air was fresh and cool. The girl’s face, originally pale as ice, flushed crimson like a shrimp as she realized her slip-up, burning fiercely.
She pressed her lips together tightly, unsure how to explain.
“This bookstore often has adults coming in—it’s a mixed crowd. If you come again, it’s best to come with classmates.” Wei Qingyue reminded her, then glanced at the sky. “Let’s go back. Evening self-study is about to start.”
“Thank you,” Jiang Du finally remembered to express her gratitude. Wei Qingyue turned back, raindrops dripping from the edge of his umbrella, his face blurred, only his clear voice audible. “You’re welcome. Didn’t you play the heroine this summer too?”
His voice carried a hint of teasing laughter, which, to her ears, felt like a smile. She suddenly noticed that Wei Qingyue’s hair seemed much longer. He had no intention of cutting it, looking like a wild, untamed patch of grass.Puddles dotted the ground, reflecting the dim streetlights. Jiang Du stepped into one, splashing water onto Wei Qingyue’s trousers, though neither of them noticed.
The snack stalls along the street outside the school were still open, steam rising in a hazy mist. Wei Qingyue turned around and said to Jiang Du, who had been following behind, stepping on his shadow:
“Want a cup of porridge? You look like you’re shivering.”
Jiang Du flushed with embarrassment. I’m not shivering at all!
A warm cup of porridge was soon handed to her, its heat spreading from her palms to her heart. The weather had turned chilly, but Wei Qingyue wore only a thin long-sleeved shirt, as if he didn’t feel the cold.
“During summer break, those people…” Jiang Du’s tongue felt stiff as she searched for something to say.
Wei Qingyue glanced at her and replied indifferently, “That incident? You gave a statement too, didn’t you? Those vocational school jerks tried to extort money from me. Did they really think my money was that easy to take?”
His tone was sharp and aggressive.
Jiang Du’s heart skipped a beat at his words. She fell silent, her mind replaying the image of the man kicking him until he stumbled.
“Why did that person hit you?” she finally asked softly.
Wei Qingyue’s expression turned cold and sharp, like a thin blade. “You mean Wei Zhendong?” They were oddly in sync—he knew exactly who she was referring to.
Huh? It sounded like a family name, but he addressed him so directly. Jiang Du glanced at him.
“Since you saw it, I might as well tell you. That’s my dad. As for why he hit me even though I was the one being extorted… honestly, I don’t know. He doesn’t need a reason to hit me,” Wei Qingyue said, a mocking look on his face—directed at Wei Zhendong, but also at himself. “Hard to believe, right? Someone who always ranks first still gets beaten by their parent.”
Jiang Du fell completely silent, her gaze fixed on him.
Rain pattered against the umbrella, crisp and clear. The entire world seemed to drift and sway behind the watery curtain, as if carried along by the current.
“I won’t tell anyone,” Jiang Du said, feeling that any words of comfort would sound hollow. This was the only promise she could make.
Wei Qingyue smiled faintly, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. Instead, he said, “Asking about someone’s private matters is actually quite rude.”
Jiang Du’s expression turned awkward.
“It just happened that you saw it, and you asked, so I told you. But I don’t like talking about my own affairs with others. It’s pointless.”
Jiang Du felt something clog her throat. For some reason, she wanted to cry. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
She suddenly realized she had inadvertently offended Wei Qingyue.
The wind was strong, tousling the girl’s bangs. She looked utterly lost and unsure of what to do.
Wei Qingyue still wore a faint smile. “You go ahead. I’ll come in later.” Jiang Du hesitated, glancing at him. Not far away, neon signs from a row of shops flickered in red, green, and purple, casting the boy’s solitary figure in a stark, lonely light.
“Are you… really angry with me?” Jiang Du asked weakly. “I’m sorry, I just asked without thinking.”
“Hmm?” Wei Qingyue raised an eyebrow, as if amused. “No, we’ve known each other for a while now. Did I say I was angry with you?”
Jiang Du lowered her gaze, staring at the scattered lights on the ground, and softly echoed, “Hmm.”"Don't worry, I'm not that petty," Wei Qingyue's voice carried laughter again. His temper was unpredictable—terrible at times, yet perfectly fine at others. At this moment, having teased Jiang Du, beneath his smiling eyes flowed a deep, elusive light. "Don't look like you're being bullied. I just had a craving for a cigarette and needed to find a spot. See, you still know this secret of mine, don't you?"
The boy raised his hand, sweeping his hair back from his forehead. In that instant, he exuded an indescribable, spirited vigor.
Jiang Du's heart thumped wildly, as if she had eaten a passion fruit—fragrant and sweet.
She struggled to suppress the corners of her lips from curling upward, nodded, and though she wanted to say, "Then I'll go first," she ultimately said nothing, opening her umbrella and leaving.
Back in the classroom, her heart continued to race chaotically, unable to calm down for a long while. Wang Jingjing was secretly snacking again, sharing with the boys behind her. She asked Jiang Du if she wanted some, but Jiang Du looked at her several times, hesitating to speak.
"What's wrong?" Wang Jingjing tossed a potato chip into her mouth.
"Are you still going to write that letter to... you know who?" Jiang Du felt ashamed of her own pettiness, though she pretended to be calm.
Wang Jingjing immediately understood, as if remembering something, rummaged through her desk drawer for a while, and suddenly perked up like she had caught a second wind: "I almost forgot if you hadn't mentioned it! Yes, I'll write! I'll finish this stack of letter paper. Last time you told me something like... 'Everything has a beginning, but few things are brought to completion'? Right, that's it. Just for the cost of this letter paper, I can't waste it!"
"It's so thick!" Jiang Du blushed, pretending to complain. "Well, alright then. I'll treat it as writing practice."
The rain continued, the school shrouded in autumn's embrace, the wind rustling desolately.
She knew that writing some things down would help—once written, she could focus wholeheartedly on her studies again, as if it didn't matter whether Wei Qingyue saw it or not.
"Hello in this letter,
I saw your name on the announcement board—first place. Congratulations. Perhaps such honors are commonplace for you, but for us, it’s genuine admiration from the heart. I believe you must have a bright future ahead, the most promising of paths.
What I wrote above sounds quite formal, sorry about that.
It rained today, a bit chilly. I think we should wear more clothes to avoid getting sick. I usually don’t like this kind of bleak autumn rain, but today, for some reason, I felt inexplicably happy, finding the rain quite lovely. I wonder if you’ve noticed—the sound of rain falling on the school’s bicycle shed is louder, I mean compared to when it falls on the ground (I noticed this suddenly on my way back to the classroom, passing by the shed).
I don’t know if you saw my last letter, but it’s okay if you didn’t. The most important thing is that I’ve recorded everything I wanted to say to you. Though it’s not the work of a master writer, the moment it was written down became eternal for the person involved.
I’ve been feeling reflective today and wanted to share it with you."It seems there aren't many particularly significant events during high school life. Apart from studying, in the eyes of teachers or parents, our emotions often seem like baseless complaints or youthful melancholy. But I don't think that's actually the case. Everyone has their own struggles, unknown to outsiders—just as I never believe that someone who takes their own life due to immense pain does so merely out of cowardice. Sometimes, adults, or even peers, underestimate the complexity of a person's emotions, making one feel profoundly lonely. Writing this doesn't mean I'm a pessimistic person. In fact, I want to say that no matter what someone is going through, as long as they still have a healthy body and a sharp mind, they should take stock of what they currently possess. This way, they might not feel so overwhelmed and can rebuild their confidence in life.
Sorry, I feel like I'm sounding preachy again. I hope you don't think I'm some old pedant.
Let me talk about something else. Every word I'm writing to you now is very important to me—second only to studying in terms of priority. As long as I can write them down, I feel incredibly happy. My wish for today is that everything goes well for you. This sentiment won't expire—unlike medicine or food, it has no expiration date. It's infinite.
The rain hasn't stopped yet. Although I don't like autumn rain, I love falling asleep to the sound of it. I wish this rain would last all night. By the way, can you see the tree near the library from your window? I can see it from mine, faint and shadowy. Every time I pass by during evening self-study, even though I know it's a tree, I always mistake it for a person and get startled. I'm so silly.
Speaking of this, I remember once at home, I went to the bathroom in the middle of the night and saw a family member's coat hanging in the living room. Half-asleep, I thought someone was standing there and got terribly frightened. Thinking about it now, it's still quite funny.
Unknowingly, I've written a lot of nonsense again. I always have this habit when I start writing—my words flow like an overflowing river.
This is the second letter I've written to you. All the best.
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