Chapter 36.2 - A Bystander’s Youth (2)
March 24, morning, between the second and third class
Before she even reached the classroom door, she heard cheers and applause inside. Ye Zhanyan was standing at the podium, surrounded by a group of people. Her sun-kissed skin was slightly flushed, and her beautiful face bore both her usual flamboyance and confidence as well as a hint of shyness — a very special kind of charm.
She went around to the back door of the classroom, returned to her seat in the third row, and glanced over the lively classroom, knowing there was no chance to rush the podium to hand out papers now. Sitting down, she saw her deskmate, Xu Qiqiao, sneaking a smile, occasionally glancing at her from the corner of her eye. The expression on Xu Qiqiao’s face clearly read: “Ask me, I know all the juicy details.”
She arranged her papers neatly and smiled slightly. “What’s up?”
Before she could finish the word “up,” Xu Qiqiao hurriedly said, “Sheng Huainan from Class 3 confessed to her.”
She was stunned for less than a second, then continued her stiff smile and adjusted the pencil case on the desk without saying anything. Xu Qiqiao looked at her several times and only then realized her reaction was somewhat annoying — such explosive news met with such a lukewarm response. No wonder Xu Qiqiao was a little upset; the girl whose life revolved around gossip was already pouting. She had known for a long time that Xu Qiqiao didn’t want to be seated near her, simply because of her indifference. The homeroom teacher had arranged it for that very reason.
She wisely followed up, “Did he confess by text?”
“You heard about it? How did you know?”
Within her peripheral vision, she saw Ye Zhanyan’s phone being passed around, while Ye Zhanyan was scrambling to get it back, her eyes full of anxious happiness. She shrugged and forced a somewhat stiff smile. “You can tell just by the way things are going.”
“Yeah, guess what Sheng Huainan said?”
The phone came near their desks; a girl in the front row turned and tossed it onto her desk. She was taken aback for a moment. Ye Zhanyan lunged forward to grab it back, but Xu Qiqiao was quicker, snatching the phone away. Ye Zhanyan collided solidly with her from the side.
It was like closing her eyes, she could clearly remember the soreness in her cheekbone.
Everyone asked if she was okay while laughing loudly. She didn’t have time to rub her face and quickly asked the flushed Ye Zhanyan, “Are you alright?”
Ye Zhanyan shook her head, stood upright, and shouted, “You heartless bunch, give me back my phone!” Xu Qiqiao’s hoarse voice almost simultaneously rang out, “Ye Zhanyan, Ye Zhanyan, Sheng Huainan is calling!”
The classroom erupted once again. Ye Zhanyan snatched the phone and rushed out, while several boys shouted after her, “Ye Zhanyan, don’t you dare tell Sheng Huainan ‘they’re bullying me’!”
Sheng Huainan. She remembered the name. Back then, he stood on the steps holding a basketball. The sunset behind him cast a warm glow in her eyes. He smiled with eyes curved like crescent moons and said to her, “My name is Sheng Huainan.”
In the first year of high school, she heard the name again — a dissonance, as if space and time were warped.
Luo Zhi lay on her desk, plugged the earphones into her ears, and closed her eyes. The sound of Scottish bagpipes drowned out the noise outside.
The album was called Irish Warbler — who knew why.
About five minutes into class, Ye Zhanyan knocked and entered. Many people snickered below. The English teacher glared at Ye Zhanyan but said nothing. The English teacher usually spoke sharply and theatrically, but that class her voice was unusually soft, as if unaware of the murmuring laughter below. Xu Qiqiao kept passing notes with the girl behind, while Luo Zhi anxiously wanted to finish the album.
After class ended, enthusiasm was still high. Everyone gathered around Ye Zhanyan, asking questions. Luo Zhi lowered her head and quietly went up to the podium to write on the board.
She could have just called out for silence, but she didn’t want to yell herself hoarse or ruin the mood. Killing the vibe was a sin — she didn’t want to dampen everyone’s excitement. She wrote the math teacher’s instructions for the monthly test in the corner of the board. When she turned around, she saw a boy standing at the front door of the classroom. At that moment, only her seat had a view of him.
“Are you looking for someone?” she asked.
“Oh, sorry to bother you. I’m looking for Ye Zhanyan.” The boy smiled warmly, and his voice was even more intoxicating than his smile. She nodded and shouted to the center of the classroom, “Ye Zhanyan!”
Her voice was soft and soon drowned by the classroom’s noise. She called twice but got no response. Frustrated, she silently cursed everyone’s mothers but smiled gently at the boy by the door and said, “Please wait a moment.”
She got down from the podium and looked for Ye Zhanyan, trying to keep a mysterious expression, telling her, “There’s a handsome guy at the door looking for you.”
As expected, everyone teased her again. She bowed out like any passerby and returned to the board to write down the math teacher’s tedious reminders.
If someone truly cared about her and wanted to understand her, they would see that the usually indifferent Luo Zhi had uncharacteristically shown a mischievous, gossiping smile that day. All of it revealed her nervousness and an attempt to hide it. But no one noticed the subtle change.
She wrote earnestly without looking back, believing the doorway was now crowded — only she had seen the boy alone from her angle two minutes ago; now it was packed.
They had lived in this school for three years. Gradually, everyone’s faces became familiar. Whether in the boiler room or the school store, even if they couldn’t recall names or classes, seeing someone on the street would immediately remind them they had walked the same school halls.
Yet Sheng Huainan seriously asked her at the skating rink, “Are you often cooped up in the classroom? I’ve never seen you before.”
Even she doubted if she really existed.
