On Sunday evening, after bidding farewell to Shen Mo and finishing dinner, Hua Jie retreated to her room to study.
She had been working incredibly hard these days. By late September, she had almost caught up with the middle school curriculum.
Only a few things required rote memorization remained, which she copied into a notebook to memorize at her leisure, ensuring they wouldn’t interfere with her high school studies.
If she were to take the middle school exams again, passing them all would certainly pose no problem. Giving herself just over half a month to memorize everything, she would perform no worse than in her previous life.
She had also repeatedly memorized and understood everything taught since the beginning of high school year one, even doing extra extension papers to solidify her understanding.
Although studying alone under the light with textbooks was dull and arduous, it was still better than enduring the despair of a future without hope after entering society.
That kind of despair, confined in a corner of Shanghai where the neon lights couldn’t reach, unable to afford a house, with her social circle shrinking as she became more isolated…
She often woke up from nightmares of dying alone in her rented room, undiscovered for days, unable to fall back asleep.
She no longer wanted to experience those sleepless, dark nights.
Taking a deep breath, Hua Jie put down her textbook and stretched her sore shoulders.
Her hands touched her chest; this was where she felt relaxed.
Letting go of the societal expectations and pressures from others about ‘how you should be,’ she was ready to set sail again, to pursue the life she truly desired. It was indeed filled with hope.
She wasn’t afraid of hardship or fatigue. She felt content and happy.
Everything was an effort for a better future—this sense of hope and purpose, feeling that everything she did was worthwhile and meaningful, was truly wonderful.
Stretching lazily, Hua Jie inserted an English cassette tape into the small recorder her father had bought her a year ago and pressed play.
The recorder clicked and clacked. Pressing pause, she pulled out the tape which was tangled messily. She inserted a pencil into the tape’s hole, rewound the film properly, and placed it back in the recorder, finally able to play it normally.
As she listened to the English recitation, she took out her paints, brushes, and canvas.
She reviewed the sketches she had drawn during the day, finally deciding to apply paint to all of them.
After reflecting for a moment, she began to paint from memory.
Hua Jie mimicked the style of the Impressionist painter Renoir, depicting the mottled light and shadows, showing the warmth of the brilliant afternoon sun on the earth.
Her brushstrokes boldly borrowed from the style of the Impressionist painter Van Gogh, decisive and exuberant like a joyous dancer.
She was serious about completing the painting, but also indulged in the freedom of experimentation.
She was not afraid of the painting failing, nor did she carry the psychological burden of worrying about others not liking it; she simply followed her heart.
When her mother knocked on the door to remind her it was nearly midnight and time for bed, Hua Jie realized how time had flown.
Time always flies when you’re happy.
After putting away her half-finished painting “Late Autumn Mountain Tour,” organizing her school bag, and washing up before lying in bed, she finally felt tired.
Her eyelids instantly stuck together, and the fulfilled girl almost instantly fell asleep.
The midnight wind scraping against the walls and the snowflakes fluttering against the window did not disturb the girl’s sweet dreams.
In her dreams, tomorrow would be better, and all her hopes would be beautifully fulfilled.
…
…
A cold wave suddenly ushered in winter overnight. Although many had confidently claimed it would warm up within a week, everyone still dug out their down jackets and cotton coats to wear.
In the new week, Shen Mo still had not gotten along well with the boys in his class. Anyone who slightly offended him would be met with his iron fist, as he couldn’t remember anyone and treated everyone with the same punches.
His philosophy on making friends was straightforward: fight until subdued.
For him, the school and similar environments were essentially full of strangers.
He couldn’t remember people who he had interacted with, never matching faces with names, except those he played with daily; otherwise, they would soon become strangers again.
This also made him isolated and gave him ample time to think and read independently, eventually turning him into a top student.
Growing up without a mother and learning to survive alone in solitude from kindergarten, he gradually adopted an indifferent attitude towards those around him.
He was not only defensive towards others but also learned the most effective problem-solving method among schoolboys: using fists.
He now couldn’t be bothered to remember people; it wasn’t necessary.
As long as others remembered him, knew he was not to be trifled with, joined him in basketball when he wanted to play, and provided help when he needed it, that was enough.
On Tuesday, several athletes in the class, unwilling to accept Shen Mo’s domineering attitude, teamed up against him but ended up being pushed to the back of the classroom and kicked under the desks.
After kicking them during the break between classes, he would still casually continue playing basketball with these same guys.
Thus, his classmates concluded: although Shen Mo had many faults, he at least had one virtue—he didn’t hold grudges.
Indeed, Shen Mo truly did not hold grudges.
He couldn’t remember them anyway. Whoever annoyed him today would be unrecognizable to him after a mere turn of the head, thanks to his face blindness, which made it impossible for him to bear grudges.
Thus, he held a simple belief: other things can be postponed, but if you don’t deal with a jerk right away, you might never find them again.
People who seek immediate retribution don’t need to remember grievances.
The male classmates still didn’t understand.
…
However, Shen Mo wasn’t entirely without friends at school. Hua Jie was a good friend he made after arriving at No. 1 High School.
Spending weekends at her house, mooching meals, drinks, and fun times greatly enhanced their friendship.
It was just too bad that Hua Jie’s stock of blueberries was limited; otherwise, he would seriously consider proposing to switch his daily “special supply” milk tea to blueberry juice.
On Thursday afternoon during the long break, Shen Mo saw Hua Jie drawing portraits for classmates again. After leaving his seat, he turned back and said:
“At this rate, nearly everyone will have one of your paintings.”
He emphasized “nearly everyone,” and as he spoke, he rested his hand on her desk, tapping his fingertips to draw her gaze away from her drawing to him.
Though he felt like he was the only one without a painting, his expression remained nonchalant, as if he were merely making small talk.
Their relationship as desk-mates had been quite good lately. He rarely ordered her around anymore to fetch water, tidy up the desk, or do homework, and he always answered her silly questions… Wasn’t she supposed to voluntarily offer to paint his portrait without him having to ask?
That would be too embarrassing, and paying her for a painting would be a loss of face.
Hua Jie stopped drawing, looked up at him, and after a moment’s thought, tentatively asked:
“Do you want one? If so, I’ll draw one for you.”
“How much?” he asked deliberately.
If she dared ask for money, he would ignore her for a week.
“I won’t take your money,” she responded, meeting his fierce gaze.
“Alright then, when will you draw it?” he asked, turning to face her, ready to skip even going to the bathroom.
“How about this weekend? You come to the studio with me, and I’ll seriously draw one for you,” she suggested.
“Oh, okay.” He retracted his hand from the desk, nodded, and turned to leave.
Striding to the door, Shen Mo suddenly couldn’t suppress his emotions. He jumped up, clapped his hands on the top frame of the classroom door, and landed with a slight smile before turning into the hallway.
He was looking forward to being taken to the spacious studio where she would seriously paint a large portrait for him.
It could be framed, just like his father’s paintings, ready to be sold directly or hung right in his room.
However, many large portraits, especially those famously foreign ones, seem to include subjects without shirts.
He wondered if she would suddenly propose to paint him like Jack painted Rose in the movie “Titanic.” Hmm, he would refuse.
…
Bian Ying sat diagonally behind, listening to the entire conversation between Shen Mo and Hua Jie.
She turned her head and quietly said to the chemistry class representative next to her:
“Do you think Hua Jie and Shen Mo are dating?”
“Give me a break, Hua Jie is not even the school beauty, Shen Mo definitely wouldn’t be interested in her,” the chemistry class representative quietly dismissed Bian Ying’s speculation.
“That must mean Hua Jie has a crush on Shen Mo. Look how nice she is to him, charging others for portraits but not him, and always bringing him tasty treats,” Bian Ying snorted.
“Shen Mo would never like her. So what if she can paint and make milk tea? Boys don’t look for a painter or a nanny in a girlfriend,” the chemistry class representative scoffed.
“She sure likes to show off,” Bian Ying said with a tone of contempt.
“Hey, Bian Ying, did you hear that the guidance counselor is preparing to appoint a leader for our freshman group? Do you know about this?” the chemistry class representative suddenly raised her voice, smiling at Bian Ying.
“Is that so?” Bian Ying was momentarily taken aback.
“Really. I heard the teachers are planning to choose someone with a good physique from among the dance students.”
“Of course, choosing someone who is both beautiful and academically successful is also possible.”
“The leader for the sophomores is our school beauty, who also studies dance.”
“The senior leader is a top-three provincial dance competition participant.”
“I heard the leader from the recently graduated batch was first in the whole grade academically and had the highest college entrance exam score from our school.”
“It definitely requires some outstanding merit,” the chemistry class representative nodded earnestly.
“Who are they considering from our freshman class?” A curious boy nearby overheard their conversation and leaned in to ask.
“They’re saying it’s Bian Ying,” the chemistry class representative placed her hand on Bian Ying’s shoulder, “Bian Ying has won dance awards, plus she has the charisma and looks. I definitely think it’s going to be her.”
“Not at all, other classes have dancers too,” Bian Ying modestly objected.
“I’m so jealous of you, tsk tsk. Look at what use learning painting is, dance gets so much attention, it’s glorious. Just sitting at your seat and painting quietly,” the chemistry class representative clicked her tongue.
The boy who just joined the conversation didn’t realize the chemistry class representative was simultaneously praising Bian Ying while taking a dig at Hua Jie, and he continued the conversation:
“Indeed, those who study sports envy those who study painting, and those who study painting envy those who study dance and music.”
“Exactly!” The chemistry class representative nodded immediately in agreement.
“And us in dance, we even envy you for your academic achievements,” Bian Ying immediately returned the compliment, praising the chemistry class representative to the skies with just a few words.
The chemistry class representative laughed, and the two of them exchanged compliments, both reaching the pinnacle of their lives.
“…” Hua Jie sat in front drawing, listening to every word of Bian Ying and the chemistry class representative’s conversation, feeling quite nauseated.
“Are they trying to make you jealous?” A model student whispered to Hua Jie.
“It’s not me; they might be talking about Jing Nian.” Hua Jie chuckled, pulling out a tape recorder and pinching one of the earphones, “Wanna listen to the English tapes?”
“…Sure.” The model student always felt like they weren’t talking about Jing Nian, but rather about Hua Jie herself. She hesitated but did not dwell on it further, taking the earphone Hua Jie offered and they started listening to the English tapes together.
Hua Jie didn’t understand why Bian Ying was so bitter about her, spreading bad rumors about her among various female classmates since the beginning of school, seemingly determined to alienate others to ostracize her.
She didn’t take it to heart; after all, most people who asked her for paintings got along fine with her.
There were still many students who, despite being close to Bian Ying, didn’t hang out with her but would still pay her for portraits—
That was good enough for Hua Jie; she had no illusions about becoming everyone’s favorite.
Let Bian Ying do whatever she wanted; it was just child’s play, boring as a monkey show.
“He may be forceful, but the breeze still flows over the mountain ridge. He may be imposing, but the moon still shines over the river.”
Just before the evening self-study session, Hua Jie finally used the break time to finish the portrait of the afternoon model student.
The 16-open portrait was quite easy to paint, and the students weren’t very demanding; as long as it was roughly done, she could make some money.
The bell rang, and the homeroom teacher sat at the lecture desk watching the students start their self-study.
Hua Jie pulled out her homework notebook and began writing, aiming to finish before school ended so she could study other things at home. She wanted to memorize the required material every day, thoroughly digesting and mastering the knowledge.
Twenty minutes later, Hua Jie was verifying calculations on a piece of scrap paper when suddenly, with a ‘snap,’ the entire world seemed to darken.
The classroom fell silent instantly, and then, a second later, it began to rustle with noise.
Lifting her head, Hua Jie froze for a second and then turned to look outside the window, where the campus was shrouded in grey.
The school had lost power.
“Everyone, quiet down! Close your eyes and rest for a while.” The class teacher stood up, slapped the desk, and walked to the classroom door, pushing it open to look outside.
The corridors were also noisy, the same in every class.
In the darkness, the children began to grow restless, and the desks and chairs made clattering noises.