Wei Qingyuе livеd in а vеrу large villa.
Аt thе entranсe stoоd stеrn-fасеd sеcurity guаrds, keeping out unauthorizеd visitоrs. Hоwevеr, thе осcuраnсу rаte in thе community wаs rеlativеly low, pаrtly beсause thе lосаtiоn wаs sоmewhat rеmоte, аnd раrtly bеcаusе the priсеs werе steep. Тo the eаst, thе рroрerty bordеrеd а river, whеrе sоmе реoрlе enjоyеd sitting along thе bank fоr hоurs fishing, аrriving as еаrlу аs dawn by subwaу to secure a sрot. Then, оne yеar, аn еarlу-rising fisherman discovered a woman's corpse in the river, bloated and disfigured, horrifying everyone and causing the number of visitors to dwindle significantly.
Wei Qingyue's house happened to be on the eastern side. Opening the window, one could see lush vegetation wildly displaying clusters of green, its vitality almost terrifying. When the murder case occurred, people were filled with fear and anxiety. That year, Wei Qingyue was in his first year of middle school, living alone in the villa, unaware of what fear truly meant.
During the third week of the school term, the Mid-Autumn Festival holiday was approaching.
Wei Qingyue called in a part-time housekeeper to clean the rooms. He would spend the Mid-Autumn Festival alone.
But Wei Zhendong called, asking him to come over for a meal.
Wei Qingyue agreed expressionlessly over the phone.
In fact, the Mid-Autumn Festival hadn't arrived yet. Wei Zhendong had invited him in advance.
It took twenty minutes by taxi to reach the other district.
His stepmother was a young and beautiful woman, twenty-eight years old, who had been with Wei Zhendong for ten years. Wei Qingyue wasn't entirely sure which woman she was in his father's life, but she could barely be considered his current partner. After all, they had a son, eight years old, chubby, with an awful temper and terrible grades. The boy was frequently called in by his teachers, and tens of thousands were spent each year on his private elementary school education. Despite the money poured into him, Wei Zhendong had ultimately produced a fool.
Wei Qingyue truly didn't want to be so harsh toward a child, but when the door opened and the little fatty arrogantly questioned whether he had come to beg for food, the intense sense of humiliation felt like scraping bone to a proud teenager.
He almost wanted to kick the brat away.
His stepmother displayed a frugal kind of enthusiasm, calling him "Qingyue" and lightly scolding the little fatty.
"I know everything. You came for money. You're just a beggar. If Dad doesn't give you money, you'll have to be a beggar," the little fatty added, scrambling onto the sofa and viciously flipping him the middle finger.
It was unclear where he had picked up such bad habits.
Wei Qingyue shot him a cold glance.
At that moment, Wei Zhendong's car slowly pulled into the driveway. His stepmother quickly called out "darling," and with a single glance, the little fatty sprang away, rushing to the door and shouting, "Daddy!"
Wei Qingyue had no choice but to stand up. He walked out and stood on the steps, watching the woman's smile, the child's smile, the briefcase being handed over, the skirt fluttering in the wind, and the man lifting the child into his arms. All the sounds, expressions, and even the faint fragrance drifting from the garden seemed to form a barrier, completely separating him from another world.
This feeling was no longer mere loneliness or solitude but more like indifference. The boy watched everything unfold without emotion, and when Wei Zhendong approached, he called out, "Dad."
Wei Zhendong was tall and slender, exceptionally well-maintained, with just the right amount of muscle. Beating him would have been effortless.
One day, he would grow old, the boy thought coldly.
Wei Qingyue shared a meal with the others, their interactions superficial and distant. At the table, Wei Zhendong asked him a few questions about his studies. In the recent physics quiz, Wei Qingyue had placed first.This first-place title held no real significance for Wei Zhendong, serving only as occasional fodder for polite compliments during business banquets. No matter how much he despised Wei Qingyue, the infuriating truth was that Wei Qingyue resembled his mother too closely—exceptionally intelligent, with academic excellence coming effortlessly.
Yet the younger son’s lack of ambition turned even this achievement into a thorn piercing Wei Zhendong’s heart.
“I heard that during the school’s opening ceremony, when you were asked to give a speech, you spouted nonsense and embarrassed the leaders and teachers. Is that true?” Wei Zhendong spoke slowly and deliberately.
He was a man obsessed with cleanliness and propriety. His leather shoes gleamed spotlessly year-round, and every suit was impeccably pressed without a single wrinkle. Wei Zhendong cultivated the image of a successful, elite middle-aged man.
Wei Qingyue didn’t know how much of this man’s hypocrisy others saw, but he was aware of all of it.
The calmer the opening, the more it foreshadowed the storm to come.
His chopsticks paused briefly before he replied to Wei Zhendong, “The script was too long. The students had already been standing in the sun for a while. I didn’t want to be cursed behind my back.”
“So, you think you were in the right.”
Wei Qingyue remained silent.
“If it weren’t for your father’s influence and the respect others show me, do you think you could act so arrogantly?” Wei Zhendong sneered, his gaze sharp as poisoned needles piercing Wei Qingyue’s pores. Only then did Wei Qingyue realize this was a setup—a “Hongmen Banquet.” Was there any point in Wei Zhendong seizing an opportunity to attack? Did father and son have to be enemies? Wei Qingyue no longer cared to understand. All he knew was that he couldn’t talk back now. He had to endure, to restrain himself. He was still spending Wei Zhendong’s money and living under his roof.
After just a few seconds of silence, Wei Zhendong interpreted his lack of response as a silent act of defiance. He picked up his wine glass and splashed red wine across Wei Qingyue’s face.
“Speak! I’m asking you a question. What kind of attitude is this, not answering?” Wei Zhendong’s face suddenly contorted with rage.
Wei Qingyue’s chest rose and fell slightly as he let the wine trickle down his face and neck—a deep red, almost like blood.
Beside them, his stepmother and the younger son watched the tense confrontation in silence. The boy was shrewd; whenever Wei Zhendong scolded Wei Qingyue, he kept his mouth tightly shut, his cunning little eyes darting around.
Wei Qingyue simply stared back at Wei Zhendong, still silent. His eyes held the defiance of a young tiger unwilling to submit, as if in an instant, he could bare his still-unsharpened fangs and lunge at his opponent.
“What kind of look is that? Let me tell you, the only person you can rely on now is me. Your mother is too busy sleeping with foreigners in America,” Wei Zhendong spoke crudely about his ex-wife, showing no regard for Wei Qingyue’s youth. “If she cared about you, she would have fought for custody back then. But she didn’t want you. I’ve raised you all these years, spent so much money on you. What, you’re unhappy after just a few words of criticism?” Wei Zhendong demanded harshly.
“No, Father’s guidance is correct.” Wei Qingyue lowered his gaze slightly.
“I’m warning you—cause less trouble at school. If I get another call saying I need to come in, I’ll break your legs.” Wei Zhendong’s words were firm, asserting his absolute authority.
The dining table fell silent for a few seconds.
Only then did his stepmother smile gently and urge Wei Zhendong not to be angry. Beside her, the younger son cooed and added food to Wei Zhendong’s bowl.This meal was destined to be as tasteless as chewing wax. Later, Wei Zhendong chatted with his stepmother about houses and stocks. He was very good at making money and took pride in it. Wei Qingyue had to admit that, materially, Wei Zhendong had never shortchanged him. His food, clothing, and daily expenses far exceeded the average level of his classmates, which was why he had caught the attention of the troublemakers from the vocational high school.
But all of this came at a price.
Wei Qingyue once thought that as long as he did well in his studies, Wei Zhendong wouldn’t hit him. He was wrong. Wei Zhendong’s inexplicable rage toward him was eternal.
On this Mid-Autumn Festival day, the streets were crowded, and all kinds of discount activities attracted many people.
Jiang Du went to the municipal library early in the morning to secure a seat, bringing her study materials. Her schedule was clear: math test papers in the morning, English test papers in the afternoon, and any extra time spent reading her beloved magazines.
She arrived early, and the library was not yet crowded. The autumn heat was still fierce, but the air conditioning was cool. Jiang Du placed her backpack in a storage locker, fetched some hot water, and returned to find a seat. As she did, she paused—a familiar figure suddenly and unexpectedly caught her eye.
Wei Qingyue had also come early, sitting alone by the window. The light streaming through the window outlined the handsome lines of the young man in a gentle, golden hue. This scene felt like certain recurring details.
Jiang Du’s breath instantly became cautious. She silently watched him for a few seconds before choosing a seat where she could look up and see the young man clearly, yet remain hidden among the crowd, unnoticed.
The melancholy of not being able to spend Mid-Autumn Festival at home immediately dissipated without her realizing it.
Meeting Wei Qingyue made it a very, very beautiful day.
A surge of happiness struck her chest intensely, but within the secret joy, there was also an indescribable sense of shame.
Yet, Jiang Du was afraid Wei Qingyue might see her. Tiptoeing, she deliberately took a detour and went to the bookshelf to look for the magazine Book City.
After checking several times, Jiang Du finally believed that the library no longer had the latest issue of Book City. In the months leading up to the high school entrance exam, she had given up all extracurricular books and magazines. After the exam, she was taken on a trip by Wang Jingjing’s mother, and during the summer vacation, she studied high school content. Calculating carefully, it had been almost a year since she last read Book City.
The latest issue was the December 2005 edition, but that was from last year.
Jiang Du stared blankly at the bookshelf, pulling out the December issue. A narrow gap appeared on the shelf, and unexpectedly, she found herself locking eyes with someone on the other side: Wei Qingyue was also looking for a magazine.
The library was quiet, but Jiang Du’s heart felt like it was being struck by crashing waves.
The girl’s eyes were dark and bright. In her panic, she seemed spellbound, forgetting to look away, staring unblinkingly at Wei Qingyue.
At school, Wei Qingyue was always the center of attention. Every Monday during the flag-raising ceremony, as the flag bearer, he was the focus of everyone’s gaze. All eyes would turn to him.
Only at this moment did Jiang Du clearly realize that Wei Qingyue was hers alone. In this confined space, only she saw Wei Qingyue, with no one else around.
The two of them quietly gazed at each other for a moment.
Wei Qingyue thought the girl he had encountered by chance had something to say, but no—she was just silently looking at him.
“Is something wrong?” the boy asked in a very low voice.
Jiang Du snapped back to reality, her face flushing instantly. It was the first time Wei Qingyue had seen someone’s physiological reaction so intense—a face that was originally pale suddenly burning like a wildfire across mountains and fields.“Um, do you know why the magazine ‘Book City’ only goes up to 2005?” In her panic, she grabbed onto a question and blurted it out without thinking.
Jiang Du hadn’t held out any hope that he would know. It was just too awkward, and any random question would do to break the ice.
“It ceased publication,” Wei Qingyue told her flatly.
For a moment, surprise and disappointment mingled in the girl’s eyes. Wei Qingyue glanced at her and said, “The decline of print media is inevitable. Of course, if the magazine changes its strategy, it might actually resume publication in half a year.”
The decline of print media… But the newsstand outside the school was always crowded with students buying teen magazines. How could that be? These were things Jiang Du rarely thought about at her age. She even found the boy’s explanation unfamiliar.
Wei Qingyue undoubtedly revealed his precocious side. To him, Jiang Du’s reaction seemed very childish. Clearly, the girl hadn’t quite digested his words.
“How do you know it ceased publication?” Jiang Du’s voice was so soft it was almost inaudible. Her heart was racing; she was afraid to talk to Wei Qingyue, but it felt like a waste not to say something—a waste that left her feeling unwilling to let it go.
Wei Qingyue looked at her somewhat clueless expression and suddenly smiled. “I sometimes flip through it.”
He walked directly over to Jiang Du’s side, moving close to her. The boy carried a faint, dry scent of orchids. As his presence enveloped her, Jiang Du’s heart fluttered like an old magazine rustling in the wind. His arm reached over her head, pulling out the December issue. He opened it and showed her the editor’s note.
Jiang Du was too nervous to take in a single word. Though the page was filled with text, all she saw was a vast blankness.
“All good things must come to an end. My condolences,” Wei Qingyue occasionally displayed a dry sense of humor—the first part melancholic, the last two words unexpectedly funny, delivered without a trace of affectation.
Jiang Du abruptly looked up at him.
Unable to help herself, she hugged the magazine, covering half her face as the corners of her mouth lifted slightly.
Wei Qingyue shrugged dismissively. “Are all you girls this affected? If you want to laugh, just laugh. Why hide behind a book?”
Jiang Du’s smile slowly stiffened. She lowered the magazine, revealing a flushed face, and said nothing.
“Sorry, I didn’t know you were this shy,” Wei Qingyue said, looking at her crimson cheeks with a hint of helplessness. “I’ll head back now.”
Only after he left did Jiang Du softly murmur, “Mm.”
It was then that her vision finally cleared, and she noticed the editor’s note announcing the magazine’s six-month hiatus.
She let out a soft sigh and brought this final, latest issue back to her seat.
Occasionally, she would glance up and catch sight of Wei Qingyue’s focused profile. The sunlight had long since shifted away from him, but the entire world still seemed to revolve around the angle of his side view.
She wasn’t sure which time she looked up again, but the seat was empty. In that instant, Jiang Du felt her heart hollow out fiercely along with it. She glanced around—many seats were already vacant.
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