Jingyuan had already been directly admitted to university. Showing up at school had become a pastime, and most of his time on campus was either spent being pulled aside by teachers for one trivial task or another, or buried in the library with a book.
Qi Han, still a lowerclassman, lived a fairly relaxed life too—but he couldn't compare to Jingyuan. For the whole week that followed, the two of them barely ran into each other.
By Friday, the competition teacher mentioned in passing: "Their third-year class just finished the eight-school joint exam. Xie Jingyuan got pulled in to grade papers."
Even that?
Qi Han envied him. A student could do no better. Still, Qi Han had no intention of trying to match him. Enjoy the age you're meant to enjoy; fool around in the age you're meant to fool around—whenever Qi Han wanted to do something outrageous, he comforted himself with that line.
Once class was over, the teacher handed out practice papers and retreated to the office for air conditioning. Qi Han immediately rolled up his bag and slipped out of the classroom to meet companions who had been waiting impatiently.
It was still early—not even the official dismissal time—but that didn't stop them. Several boys wandered to the side gate, grabbed the iron bars, and climbed over the wall in a few easy moves, startling two girls waiting by the gate for bubble-tea delivery into speechless awe.
What's the big deal? Qi Han thought proudly. I've even succeeded climbing the wall while carrying a bicycle.
"Where to?" Someone finally asked the key question after the jailbreak.
Air thick with heat brushed their ankles—perhaps a sign that summer was nearly here.
Qi Han squinted in the bright sunlight, looked around, and decided without hesitation: "Internet café."
Jingyuan mechanically marked X's beside the blanks on exam papers.
In the past, no one could have made this time-wasting drudge work fall on a selfish high achiever who treated time as life itself. The trouble now was that the whole school saw him as idle manpower to be exploited.
And the killer was—he really was idle.
The gloomy thought ended there, interrupted by the young English teacher beside him: "Your Class K did pretty well this time." Apparently a remark on the paper in her hands.
"How do you know it's our class?" The boy didn't even lift his eyelids. He couldn't care less about his classmates' scores.
"Because I'm grading Jing Zhihui's paper, of course."
"Full marks?" In his memory, full marks had become her signature—and a full-mark Jing Zhihui often became Class K's signature inside the sealed exam packets.
"No."
Jingyuan found that surprising. He looked up and confirmed: "Not 150? You deducted points on her essay?"
"Not the essay. Who'd have the heart to butcher an essay like that? It was the listening cloze—one point off."
Only then did Jingyuan remember: among the papers he'd graded, for one blank in the listening section, everyone had either left it empty or filled in random words nowhere near the standard answer. Even so, it was still surprising that Jing Zhihui had missed an objective question. "Was it… the tape pronunciation wasn't standard?" For some reason, he'd made an anti-authoritative judgment.
"Mm, exactly. I just went to confirm—the reading was unclear there. Jing Zhihui drew a crying face in the blank and wrote 'Godknows.' How could you not suspect the tape?"
"Uh… I see." Jingyuan thought: typical of her.
Han Yiyi had accidentally ruined Mai Mang's art-class handicraft—the so-called "evening gown" with no obvious hole to put your head through—and had to send it to a tailor for rescue. Accompanying her to pick it up was two Fridays later, so they'd both skipped club activities.
Mai Mang fell for a pair of couple phone charms in the shopping district. Haggling failed, but she bought them anyway. Han Yiyi couldn't understand: "You don't even have a boyfriend. Why buy couple-style ones?"
"Huh? Why do you need a boyfriend for that?" Mai Mang immediately threaded the pink one onto her phone.
"Then what about this?" Han Yiyi pointed at the remaining blue one. "Who's it for?"
"Mm…" Mai Mang thought a moment. "You, then."
Han Yiyi held up her own phone to show she already had a charm: "Sorry. I have a boyfriend."
"Then… I'll go find one too. Mm." She made the decision for no clear reason.
"Huh? I've never heard of finding a boy to date just so you won't waste a couple phone charm!" Han Yiyi caught up, shaking her head. After a stretch of walking, she suddenly stepped back. Mai Mang noticed and stopped too. "What?"
Han Yiyi pointed at the empty space in front of the internet café entrance: "Wait here. I think I saw someone I know."
"Oh." The girl scraped the ground with her toe and obediently waited at the door.
Qi Han had just finished off a boss when someone slapped him hard on the shoulder. He looked up to find Han Yiyi, stood up with a laugh, and pretended to rub his shoulder: "Man, I thought someone was out for revenge again."
Han Yiyi rolled her eyes. "I passed the entrance and came back for you, and you're still being sarcastic. How big is your ego?"
"Then I'm honored." The boy smiled faintly. Three years as middle school classmates had taught him exactly how advanced Han Yiyi's laziness nerve was.
"I called your house over winter break. Your dad picked up. I didn't dare say anything and hung up immediately."
Qi Han smiled again. "Good thing you were quick and brave. Otherwise all you'd see here now is my urn."
"Stop joking. What about your parents—are they still… like that?"
The boy went blank for an instant, checked that his companions were fully absorbed in their game, then said with self-mockery: "If not like that, then how?" In the shadow of the table, he pushed his uniform sleeve up to his elbow.
The light wasn't good, but Han Yiyi still felt her heart clench when she saw.
The boy silently pulled his cuff back down.
Han Yiyi sniffed, stood on tiptoe, and reached up to touch the hair of the boy who towered over her: "Take care of yourself."
"What are you—" The boy's teasing tone returned. "You're acting like I'm some underground operative about to die for the country." As he spoke, he tilted his head a fraction—and accidentally saw the girl standing at the entrance.