“Waaah, Xiao Xi, my life is too hard.”
The moment Song Shiman finished her college entrance exam, she rushed out and threw herself into Sheng Qingxi’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably.
Her parents stood awkwardly nearby. For the past six months, they had been pampering this little princess with the best food and care, and now she was crying as if they had mistreated her.
Sheng Qingxi patted her back. “It’s over now, no more tears.”
Song Shiman wiped away her tears of sorrow, her eyes red and swollen as she looked at Sheng Qingxi. “Xiao Xi, do you think I can get into college?”
Sheng Qingxi gave her a small, helpless smile. “You definitely will.”
It was the first smile Sheng Qingxi had shown in days.
Suddenly, Song Shiman stopped crying, and she hugged Sheng Qingxi tightly once more. Softly but firmly, she whispered in Sheng Qingxi’s ear, “Xiao Xi, we’re going to be okay.”
Our future will be okay.
That night, the school set off fireworks at the entrance to celebrate the end of the senior year.
Song Shiman sat on the steps of the art building, beer in hand, staring up at the brilliant night sky. Beside her were two boxes of crispy, tender fried chicken, the golden skin wrapping around the melt-in-your-mouth meat.
Summer is the season for fried chicken and beer.
Resting her head on her hand, her eyes clouded with a daze as she watched the fireworks. She asked absentmindedly, “Xiao Xi, do you know why I approached you back then?”
Sheng Qingxi turned to look at her. “I know.”
Song Shiman smiled faintly, tears welling up in her eyes again, though her voice held a tone of relief. “Before I met you, I didn’t know my life could be like this.”
No one believed she could change.
Her teachers didn’t believe in her. Her parents didn’t believe in her. She didn’t believe in herself.
Only Sheng Qingxi believed in her.
In just over three months, so much had changed.
She no longer arrived late or left early, she paid attention in class, and she no longer spent her weekends going out. Nearly all her time was dedicated to studying—even in her dreams, she was memorizing formulas.
And through it all, Sheng Qingxi was by her side.
Even during this period when Sheng Qingxi wasn’t in a good state herself, she still found the energy to tutor Song Shiman and go over practice tests with her.
Song Shiman felt ashamed for the way she had approached Sheng Qingxi with such thoughts back then.
Tonight, she should have been celebrating with her parents, but all she wanted was to talk with Sheng Qingxi.
“Xiao Xi, I’m sorry.”
Song Shiman slowly turned her head, meeting Sheng Qingxi’s gaze.
Sheng Qingxi smiled and gently wiped the tears from the corner of her eyes. “None of that matters.”
These kids all have the chance to grow and change.
Song Shiman stared at Sheng Qingxi for a long while, then suddenly reached out to hug her.
Leaning against Sheng Qingxi’s thin shoulder, Song Shiman’s tears soaked through the light summer school uniform. She gazed up at the sky, as if talking to Sheng Qingxi, but also as if speaking to herself: “Xiao Xi, I’m not important, Lin Ran isn’t important. You’re the one who matters the most.”
That night, after Song Shiman’s conversation with Sheng Qingxi, she came to a realization.
Sheng Qingxi wasn’t living for herself.
Song Shiman couldn’t understand it. If someone doesn’t live for themselves, what are they living for?
She had a nagging feeling that she wouldn’t like the answer.
That night, they leaned on each other, watching the fireworks bloom and fade away.
They watched for a long, long time.
—
After Song Shiman graduated, Sheng Qingxi returned to her solitary routine.
Originally, she had applied for the study room to tutor Song Shiman. Now that Song Shiman was gone, Sheng Qingxi no longer needed the spot. So, she approached Jiang Mingyuan to cancel her reservation.
When Sheng Qingxi spoke to Jiang Mingyuan about it, Old Qu happened to be in the office watering the plants, and he overheard the conversation.
At first, Old Qu didn’t react, but after a while, he remembered—wasn’t this the girl who tutored Lin Ran?
Lately, Lin Ran had been causing trouble again. There had been a period where he hadn’t heard any news of Lin Ran getting into fights, but just last month, Zhao Shuyue had called him in for three separate talks, all because of Lin Ran. The parents hadn’t been involved, likely because the boys felt it was embarrassing to call in their families over a fight.
Because of Lin Ran’s fighting, there had been a noticeable increase in unfamiliar faces around the school gates recently.
So Zhao Shuyue had spoken to him many times.
Old Qu hadn’t confronted Lin Ran directly. Instead, he asked Xie Zhen and He Mo what was going on. The two of them were tight-lipped, not giving anything away. All they said was that Lin Ran wouldn’t cause any major trouble.
Now, Old Qu felt he might have figured out the reason.
Lin Ran had probably been dumped. And by the looks of it, he was the one who got dumped.
Old Qu thought, serves him right.
—
Canceling the study room reservation wasn’t a big deal, but for He Mo and Xie Zhen, it felt like a signal. They had been paying close attention to the situation between Sheng Qingxi and Lin Ran.
This move from Sheng Qingxi was as good as telling them she had given up on Lin Ran.
They were worried sick about it, trying to keep the news from Lin Ran.
But they only managed to keep it a secret for one night, because the next day, Old Qu came looking for Lin Ran.
When Old Qu strolled up to the back door of the classroom, he wondered if he might not find Lin Ran there, given how elusive the boy had been recently. But a quick glance revealed Lin Ran slouching in his seat, playing on his phone.
Everyone else in the room seemed to be diligently working on their homework.
Old Qu gestured for Lin Ran to come over. “Lin Ran, come here for a minute.”
Lin Ran glanced up from his phone, gave Old Qu a casual look, and obligingly tossed his phone onto the desk before heading out.
The night sky was dark and heavy.
It was still during evening study hours, so the hallway was empty and quiet.
Old Qu leaned against the railing, looking more like he wanted to chat than discuss anything serious.
Lin Ran stood beside him, his posture lazy. “Did Sister Zhao come to talk to you again?” he asked.
Old Qu chuckled, “You sure know what’s going on. I heard about it at noon in the office. Are you heartbroken?”
“The office?” Lin Ran frowned. “This kind of thing spread to the office?”
He didn’t care for himself, but he didn’t want anyone misunderstanding Sheng Qingxi.
Lin Ran explained, “That girl didn’t like me. We weren’t even in a relationship.”
Old Qu let out a playful “Oh? Well, she’s got good taste.”
Lin Ran: “…”
Old Qu patted Lin Ran on the shoulder. “Since she canceled her study room reservation, I guess you won’t be going either. I’ll ask around and see if anyone else needs it. Can’t let it go to waste.”
With that, Old Qu walked off, leaving Lin Ran standing alone in the hallway.
Lin Ran lowered his eyes.
She wouldn’t forgive him. She didn’t want him anymore.
—
He Mo and Xie Zhen waited half an hour, but Lin Ran still hadn’t returned to the classroom. They slipped out to search for him but couldn’t find him anywhere. Lin Ran’s phone and helmet were still there—he hadn’t taken anything with him.
At 9:50, the bell for the end of evening study rang.
Lin Ran still hadn’t come back.
They called the bike shop, the boxing gym, and even South Garden, but Lin Ran hadn’t shown up at any of those places.
Xie Zhen scratched his head, worried. “Where do you think Brother Ran could have gone?”
He Mo glanced at the time. The bell had just rung, so Sheng Qingxi was probably still at school.
He turned to Xie Zhen, “You stay here with Brother Ran’s phone. I’m going to find the fairy.”
Xie Zhen blinked in surprise. “The fairy? How would she know where Brother Ran is?”
He Mo took off toward Class 6. “I don’t care. I need to ask her.”
When He Mo arrived at Class 6, Sheng Qingxi hadn’t left yet. She was still explaining a math problem to Chen Yi. When she saw He Mo, she didn’t say anything, but her eyes asked what was going on.
He Mo ignored Chen Yi, getting straight to the point. “Fairy, Brother Ran hasn’t been seen since this evening. Ah Zhen and I called everywhere, but we can’t find him. His phone is still in the classroom.”
Upon hearing this, Chen Yi silently closed her notebook, ready to make her exit.
She’d heard about the situation between Sheng Qingxi and Lin Ran recently but hadn’t asked about it.
Sheng Qingxi noticed Chen Yi packing up and began to do the same with her own books. She asked softly, “What happened?”
He Mo sighed. “Old Qu talked to him about the study room tonight, and then he didn’t come back. He’s been in a bad mood lately, and we’re… we’re really worried about him.”
Sheng Qingxi looked down, her voice quiet. “I don’t know where he is.”
He Mo was growing desperate. He pleaded, “Ah Zhen and I will keep searching, and Yanyan is waiting at the bike shop. Fairy, just this once, I promise I won’t bother you again after this.”
Sheng Qingxi paused for a moment, then looked up and met He Mo’s eyes.
Finally, she gave in. “I’ll go look. If I find him, I’ll let you know.”
He Mo felt a wave of relief wash over him. “Thank you, really.”
—
Where could Lin Ran have gone?
His bike was still parked in the shed.
Sheng Qingxi stood at the school gate, unsure of where to go.
After thinking for a moment, she decided to ask the security guard.
Though the guard didn’t recognize her, he certainly knew Lin Ran. When she inquired about him, the guard immediately remembered, “He left the school and took a cab. But I don’t know where he went.”
Sheng Qingxi had a strange feeling in her heart.
She walked out of the gate and hailed a cab.
Once inside, she instinctively gave the driver an address.
She wasn’t sure if Lin Ran would be there, but it was the only place she could think of.
Sheng Qingxi headed to the western part of the city.
The car stopped outside a small neighborhood, a few blocks away from the bustling area of Shengkai.
This was where Sheng Qingxi had first encountered Lin Ran in her previous life.
It was late, and the streets were almost empty. Only a few late-night food stalls remained open.
With her backpack slung over her shoulder, Sheng Qingxi walked through the alley, listening to the faint sound of the wind as it passed through. She carefully observed every alleyway.
That night in her past life, she had run in such a hurry that she no longer remembered which alley she had entered. All she could do now was search, following the fragmented and distant memory piece by piece.
Just as Sheng Qingxi reached the alley painted with the sign for jianbing pancakes, she finally heard something unusual.
There was the sound of something being knocked over, followed by the dull thud of fists hitting flesh, mixed with incoherent voices.
Startled, she quickened her pace toward the alley.
It was dark inside, with only faint light from the streetlamp spilling in. When someone stood at the entrance of the alley, their shadow would be stretched long, casting a silhouette into the dim passage.
“Get lost!” Lin Ran shouted without even looking up, continuing to pummel the man beneath him.
The person standing at the alley’s entrance didn’t move.
Irritated, Lin Ran finally looked up.
He thought he must be seeing things. Every shadow looked like Sheng Qingxi to him. Just as he was about to continue his fight, the figure at the entrance suddenly spoke.
“Lin Ran.”
It was a girl’s voice, soft, with a hint of concern.
Lin Ran.
Just those two simple words made Lin Ran freeze and stop everything he was doing.
The man beneath him, realizing the madman had finally stopped, scrambled to his feet and ran away, swearing as he went, “Damn, what a rotten night, running into a lunatic!”
As the man passed by Sheng Qingxi, she caught a glimpse of his face.
Her pupils dilated slightly.
This was one of the people who had bullied her in her previous life.
From the moment she spoke, the alley fell silent, and Lin Ran stopped moving.
Sheng Qingxi took a step forward, walking into the alley.
Her footsteps were light and slow, each one feeling like it was pressing down on Lin Ran’s heart.
It felt like torture—like being slowly cut apart.