The lettеr rеmained unwrittеn, with Wang Jingjing crumрling shееt аftеr shеet of рaper, scratching hеr hеad in frustrаtion, соnstаntlу pоndеring hоw tо writе somеthing Wei Qingyue wоuld likе. It felt likе compоsing an eхam essау аimеd аt рlеasing the grаdеr—gripреd bу the sаme intеnsitу as faсing thе cоllege entrаnce eхаm.
It drаgged оn until the New Yeаr's Dау pеrfоrmаnсе.
Тhe sсhоol-widе evеnt was held in thе morning, undеr sunlight аnd strоng winds. Thе stаgе hаd been set uр the night before; when tеsting the sound systеm, the schоol есhoеd with deafening noise, drawing curious glances from passing students.
"It's fucking cold. The program list even has street dancers performing bare-legged," Lin Haiyang said, hugging a cartoon hot water bottle as he shared the inside scoop ahead of time. He was the most lively guy in class, while Wang Jingjing rolled her eyes and retorted, "You're just waiting to see their bare thighs. How perverted."
"A youth without perversion is no youth at all." Lin Haiyang always had a "way with words," eliciting laughter even from the boys. Jiang Du listened to their nonsense, the atmosphere lively, and glanced up at the colorful balloons hanging in the classroom—festive and cheerful. After a few moments, she slumped softly back onto her desk.
Suddenly, Lin Haiyang's tone turned suggestive as he winked at Wang Jingjing. "Wei Qingyue is also performing..." He drew out the "oh" with exaggerated twists, his tone dripping with sarcasm. Wang Jingjing stood up to hit him, while Lin Haiyang dodged and said, "I suggest you prepare a bouquet. When Wei Qingyue performs, you should just go up and give it to him."
Hearing this, Jiang Du's heart began to surge like waves again—gently washing onto the shore, receding, then rising once more.
Wei Qingyue wasn't one to seek the spotlight. On occasions like these, he usually chose to sleep in the dormitory, just as he had throughout junior high. This time, he was pressured by Zhang Xiaoqiang—an old classmate deserving some face. As for Zhang Xiaoqiang, such events were her forte: hosting, pretending to be an adult—she always played the part flawlessly.
This time, Zhang Xiaoqiang gave up hosting to sing "California Dreamin'" with him. She loved the dreamy, elusive style of Wong Kar-wai. In 2006, many peers were obsessed with the dark aesthetic of QQ spaces, posting Martian text, and copying thick notebooks of song lyrics. Vocational school students favored hairstyles that looked like they'd been blown up by firecrackers... As the city's top key high school, Mei Zhong students strived to present a unique style, absolutely unwilling to engage in anything that seemed intellectually degrading. Back then, the internet wasn't as developed, social interactions were limited to forums and QQ, and crafting a niche, cultured signature was of utmost importance.
Wong Kar-wai was still a safe choice at the time. Zhang Xiaoqiang asked Wei Qingyue if he had seen Wong Kar-wai's films, heard "California Dreamin'," or knew about stream of consciousness... Wei Qingyue had no interest in any of it. He even chuckled, leaving Zhang Xiaoqiang baffled and slightly uneasy.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing. Just say what you mean. Why bring up Wong Kar-wai?"
Zhang Xiaoqiang felt a bit embarrassed and said, "I want to sing with you. After all, us singing together would be a powerhouse collaboration, right?"
Wei Qingyue looked at her and said, "You're too competitive. Even singing a song has to be a powerhouse collaboration."
Zhang Xiaoqiang wouldn't get angry with him because she knew this was just how Wei Qingyue talked. And so, Wei Qingyue ultimately agreed.Before the performance began, the open space in front of Mingde Building was marked with chalk, clearly designating the area for each class of freshmen and sophomores. Teacher Xu came to the classroom to give a few reminders, and then everyone picked up their stools, forming a surging crowd as they walked out of the teaching building.
Only Jiang Du remained.
She had caught a cold right after Christmas, and the past two days had been particularly rough. Even now, she felt dizzy and weak all over. Wang Jingjing was especially disappointed that Jiang Du was falling short at a critical moment, saying, "There are so many exciting acts on the program list, and you won’t be able to watch them."
Jiang Du gave a weak smile and opened her thermos again, gulping down hot water. Drink more hot water—it cures all ailments. She was almost sick of it.
Her mind was foggy, and she didn’t feel like moving at all.
The entire teaching building was now empty and suddenly quiet. Just a moment ago, Jiang Du had been surrounded by the clamor of the crowd, but now, it felt as if the world had grown vast and empty, with everything fading into nothingness. She had finally shown signs of improvement and couldn’t risk going to the square to catch the cold wind again. If she did, her condition might worsen, and she’d likely spend the New Year’s holiday hooked up to an IV drip.
After everyone had left, she put on her woolen hat and scarf, fully bundled up, and went to the corridor to take a look. It was a bit far, but she could see the crowded heads of people. Behind the backdrop, performers in colorful costumes were bustling about. Some girls wore very little, their legs bare under down jackets, occasionally nudging their companions and laughing freely.
The host’s opening remarks were always familiar, their smiles official and rehearsed.
As the prelude to the first song began, Jiang Du’s lips curved into a smile. In her heart, she thought: It’s Bibi.
It was Bibi’s "Notebook," the kind of song that could get the whole crowd singing along. Back in 2005, when they were still in middle school, there was a talent show called "Super Girl" that captivated the nation, comparable only to the craze for "My Fair Princess" during their elementary school days. Everyone went crazy voting via text messages. Teacher Xu had even mentioned spending 100 yuan to vote for Zhang Liangying—truly a splurge.
Back then, their dormitory walls were plastered with posters of Li Yuchun. It was the first time they realized that a girl could be so cool and charismatic. Of course, there were also heated arguments over who to support. One girl in their dormitory adored Zhou Bichang, while Wang Jingjing bought eight diaries with Li Yuchun on the covers in one go. Another girl cheered for Huang Yali every day, going home to ask all her relatives to vote.
"The scenes of memories, the language of records…" Jiang Du softly sang along under her breath. This was the unique memory of their generation—about "Super Girl" and the somewhat melancholic "Notebook."
Sure enough, the crowd below began singing along loudly. Jiang Du scanned the backstage area, searching for Wei Qingyue, but she couldn’t spot him. She knew his performance with Zhang Xiaoqiang was scheduled early—right after Bibi’s song and a street dance segment, theirs would be the third act.
The corridor had glass windows, making it the safest place in the world. Sunlight streamed in, bringing a comforting warmth. Jiang Du waited with unblinking eyes for Wei Qingyue to appear, her heart floating somewhere in mid-air.
However, to her surprise, only Zhang Xiaoqiang took the stage. Her outfit was refreshingly new—a black jacket, jeans, and ankle boots—as she jumped and danced while singing Huang Lixing’s "Sound Wave," sending the crowd into a frenzy.
It wasn’t "California Dreaming." The program had been changed at the last minute.Jiang Du stood there in a daze, having lost a chance to openly cast her gaze toward Wei Qingyue. She felt deeply disappointed, yet there was no one to blame. Whether Wei Qingyue performed or not was entirely his own affair; his presence or absence was his own choice.
But how could he break his promise, canceling so abruptly? She didn’t know how many eager eyes would cool in that chilly wind, how many fervent hearts would freeze. Like countless other girls, she simply wanted, in such a moment, to catch a glimpse of that extraordinary person, to fill her youthful eyes.
Jiang Du turned and slowly walked back to the classroom alone. With a stuffy nose, she heavily flipped open a page of study materials. All the excitement outside had nothing to do with her.
The morning session lasted two and a half hours. When it ended, she heard the campus stir once more. Classes migrated like flocks of birds, returning to their rooms. The classroom quickly became chaotic again, everyone chattering about how freezing it was, rubbing their hands and patting their faces. Wang Jingjing slammed her stool down with a loud thud, sighing deeply, "Ugh, I should’ve known better than to go. Wei Qingyue took the day off!"
For the girls, Wei Qingyue was the biggest draw. Without him, the performance lost much of its appeal. Jiang Du’s heart sank. Why had he taken leave? Was he sick too? Or… had his father beaten him again? Was he injured and unable to come? Why did his father always hit him? The thought made her breath catch painfully.
In the evening, it was their own class’s turn to perform. Everyone was jumping around, wild with excitement. Dazed, Jiang Du slipped out and peered through the window at Class One, where they were also making a racket, the speakers blaring loudly. Clutching her gloves, she pretended to be observing what Class One was doing for their evening party, her eyes urgently and swiftly scanning the crowd for the person she hoped to see.
Wei Qingyue’s seat was empty. He sat at the very back, his desk piled high with books and materials like the others’. Annoyingly, Class One’s windows were adorned with red paper cutouts, obscuring her view through the openwork patterns.
He really had taken leave… Jiang Du’s heart slowly relaxed.
"Looking for someone?" The voice behind her struck like thunder. Though it was just an ordinary question, Jiang Du whirled around. The first thing she saw was the soft red scarf around the boy’s neck. Wei Qingyue wore a faint smile, but she forgot how to breathe.
Breathing was instinctive, yet now that instinct was thrown into disarray.
"No, I… I was just looking around," Jiang Du stammered in panic. After speaking, she hurried past the boy. Only after putting a little distance between them did the emotions she had been suppressing surface at the corners of her mouth. She couldn’t help but smile, grateful to see Wei Qingyue before the holiday.
Seeing him this once was enough to ward off all the cold of this winter. She could joyfully welcome the first day of 2007.
But then… that letter… At the thought, Jiang Du’s emotions plunged back into a turbulent sea.
New Year’s Day arrived as scheduled. Classmates buzzed in the QQ group, exchanging "Happy New Year!" messages. It was often amusing—they’d say it once for the Gregorian New Year on New Year's Day, then stay up until midnight on New Year’s Eve, eyes bleary, only to flood the group again with fireworks-like "Happy New Year!"" greetings as soon as the clock struck twelve.
Not many had mobile phones, and the school forbade bringing them. So, weekends and holidays were when everyone logged on frantically.Wang Jingjing faced the computer, with a solemn, trembling reverence akin to her grandmother offering incense, she carefully added the account Wei Qingyue had given her. There was no response from the other side for a long time. For hours, she couldn’t focus on anything, only idly chatting with Jiang Du on QQ:
"The song 'Notes' we sang in sophomore year wasn’t even as good as my version."
"Have you finished your physics test paper?"
"So bored, I want to eat fried chicken."
Wang Jingjing’s QQ username was rather cringeworthy, though in her youth, she remained blissfully unaware. It was called "A Lonely Heart Wandering." On the other end, Jiang Du kept receiving messages from "A Lonely Heart Wandering."
She responded earnestly to every line, but Wang Jingjing’s thoughts jumped around, caring only about what she herself had to say. What Jiang Du said hardly mattered at all.
Suddenly, Wang Jingjing sent:
"I added Wei Qingyue, but he hasn’t responded. Could he be messing with me? Writing letters is such a hassle. I plan to chat with him on QQ."
Jiang Du was taken aback and fell silent for a moment.
Then, she cautiously and subtly asked: "You’re not planning to write back?"
"Nope."
After saying this, Wang Jingjing vanished. Because Wei Qingyue had suddenly made a move. The boy had just finished showering when he noticed a friend request notification. Unsurprisingly, it was from Wang Jingjing.
While blow-drying his hair, he casually replied with a few words, and on the other end, Wang Jingjing was already bouncing on her bed.
Wei Qingyue looked at her username and exaggerated profile picture and chuckled. Then, methodically, he scrolled through the girl’s past posts. His gaze soon settled on a nickname that had liked one of Wang Jingjing’s updates:
Zhuo Dao Ke.
The boy pondered this name with a meaningful expression, silently repeating it in his mind.
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