Today, Nan Zhi welcomed a few unexpected guests — they were Song Qing’s classmates. Originally, they came to check on him, but ended up discovering that he had already been discharged from the hospital. Wanting to find out where he went, they asked around, and asking here and there, ended up asking her.
The afternoon was just like the morning — basically busy to the point of feet not touching the ground but the teacher was kind and let her go talk to them clearly first.
A total of over ten people came, each brought something, just like before.
It was the beginning of the month, so their families gave them some living expenses, and they also pooled some money together, wanting to help Song Qing pay the medical fees.
Nan Zhi took a look — it was a little over three thousand yuan. Although not much, it should probably be all they had.
Because at this time, it was basically right after graduation. They didn’t have much money, and during the internship period, it might even require subsidies from home. They didn’t even have enough for themselves. Being able to scrape together three thousand yuan was already not easy.
Nan Zhi didn’t accept it and also reassured them that she had already, together with another kind person, properly arranged things for him.
She still didn’t say that she herself was that kind person — mainly because she was afraid of causing trouble. Today, thankfully it was his classmates who came; if one day it were his uncle or aunt, then it would be trouble — maybe they’d even try to scam her for money.
Saying a kind person had taken him away, she could directly say she couldn’t get in contact, and that would save a trouble.
This way, it could also serve as a kind of filter — only those who truly wanted to help Song Qing would be allowed to contact him.
Those who had a good relationship with Song Qing would contact him themselves — she didn’t need to step in.
She felt like Song Qing didn’t seem to have friends. If he did, people would probably have told him directly, instead of running to the hospital to find someone.
Both sides seemed unfamiliar with each other.
Song Qing probably didn’t know they had helped pay quite a bit of his medical expenses. They also didn’t seem to have told him — quietly doing things in the background.
No matter what, it could be considered a good outcome — they heard he was doing well now, and many classmates were also reassured.
Some also wanted to meet him. Nan Zhi didn’t agree on his behalf, only said she would ask Song Qing’s opinion. If he agreed, then everything would be fine.
Before leaving, they also left their contact information. After all, she was working, and today was also very busy. It wasn’t very suitable to talk in the hallway passageway. Some of the people had left; two little girls remained behind.
One of the girls had a small camera hanging around her neck — looked like she really liked taking pictures. For some reason, Nan Zhi inexplicably thought of those two girls who took photos of Song Qing.
Because she had only glanced in passing at that time, probably still looking at Song Qing, she didn’t pay attention to what the girls in the photo looked like. She only remembered someone had a bun hairstyle.
Nan Zhi looked carefully — beside the girl with the small camera hanging at her neck, wasn’t that very girl with a bun hairstyle?
It was them.
They seemed like they still wanted to understand Song Qing’s situation. Nan Zhi was also very interested in the past Song Qing. She said a word to a passing teacher — still needed a while — and then invited them to milk tea afterward. The teacher made an OK hand gesture and left in a hurry.
Nan Zhi then went with the two girls to the stairwell entrance to talk in detail.
She asked about Song Qing’s past; they asked about Song Qing’s present.
—
In the small alleyways of the old district of Pu Xin Road, Song Qing was still listening to a few elderly women chatting. He also learned from their mouths the prices of each of their handcraft jobs.
A completed cross-stitch piece could be sold for over a thousand yuan, but the work period was long — at least ten days to half a month — and that’s under the condition of being a skilled worker. Slower ones taking one or two months was also normal.
Moreover, it required high standards in color use and technique.
If not up to standard, it would be returned — either redo it, or they wouldn’t accept it, or they’d lower the price. It strained the eyes and required focus. Doing this meant you couldn’t do other things — not within his consideration.
Other handcraft jobs were the same — either you had to bring back a bunch of materials home, or it paid just a few cents here and there. You had to work a long time to make money. He still thought knitting scarves was the most suitable.
He observed for a while — one scarf took about an hour to make. The old granny beside him knitted two scarves in two hours: one was flat stitch, worth eight yuan; one was corn stitch, worth ten yuan. If knitting from morning till night, making eleven or twelve scarves in a day would bring around 100–120 yuan.
Moreover, doing this didn’t delay doing other things — you could read books, learn things on the side.
Of course, doing handcrafts was only temporary — earning money this way was too slow. He wanted to earn money quickly. These past few days, staying at home, he kept searching how to make money quickly while staying at home full-time.
Some suggestions were to become a livestream host, some suggested doing voice acting, others suggested learning design and taking freelance orders from home.
He couldn’t be a livestream host — he didn’t know how to talk. If he really became one, it would just be staring wide-eyed at the audience, both sides not knowing what to say. Voice acting required paying tuition, and in his mindset, all jobs that required you to pay money first were scams.
He had considered learning design. Nan Zhi seemed to be thinking about it too — he saw that on Nan Zhi’s bookshelf there were related books. She also seemed very interested in computers, had bought several books like C Language Programming, Computer Introduction Tutorial, Hacker and White-hat Hacker Differences, etc.
Those few books were deliberately placed by him in the most eye-catching spot, waiting for free time to read. But just reading books without earning money made him feel uneasy. So he still decided to find something he could do alongside — knitting scarves just happened to be perfect.
Maybe it was because he kept staring, and didn’t go anywhere, just stayed behind her, that the old granny felt he was interested. She would deliberately pause when starting stitches or when she got to a part she thought was difficult, and taught him how to knit.
She even let him try it — after knitting two rounds, he saw the tightness was different from the granny’s. His hands were tighter. So he unraveled it and redid it, deliberately loosening a bit to make it about the same.
The granny’s basket still had some yarn waiting to be knitted. There were also needles — very thick, very thick needles. She asked him to try knitting a flat stitch using a roll of fluffy yarn that was the easiest to handle.
Song Qing didn’t hold back either. After thanking the granny, he really picked up a yarn ball that was already rolled into a ball. Feeling its soft and fluffy texture, he suddenly hesitated again.
He pulled out his phone, intending to ask Nan Zhi first.
He had promised Nan Zhi that today he wouldn’t work — just to inquire only. If he actually worked, that would be breaking the promise between him and Nan Zhi.
—
Nan Zhi was still chatting with those two girls. Sure enough, just as she expected — they were the ones who had taken photos of Song Qing and even gave him the photos.
If it weren’t for them, probably no one would have known just how stunning Song Qing was during his school years. He himself wouldn’t be able to recall his past either.
Thankfully, photos were still kept.
Only after asking did she learn that the two girls had also held this thought when giving him the photos. It all started when everyone was voting for who was the most handsome in school. Someone mentioned him — but he didn’t take pictures at all. There was only the student ID photo, and it wasn’t even a good one — stiff and formal, nothing could be seen from it.
So the girl who already liked taking pictures discussed it with her bestie, pretending to take pictures of her bestie, but was actually secretly recording him.
They wanted to upload the photos, but considering they didn’t have his consent, they didn’t. They only saved them in their photo albums, for themselves and nearby classmates to look at.
Originally, this kind of thing with hidden intentions wasn’t meant to be given away — it’d be easily seen through. But thinking that from young to now he basically never took photos, they still gave a copy.
It’s just that, not like they had imagined — when Song Qing received the photos, his reaction was flat. He only glanced a few times and put them away. After politely saying thank you, he just left — he didn’t notice the hidden feelings at all.
If he had noticed, they would feel embarrassed. If he didn’t, there was a bit of disappointment. That heart’s little intention seemed to shatter into two halves with a snap — very complicated.
The girl who loved taking photos was called Yueyue. She usually liked recording pretty sceneries and beautiful things. Because he looked good, he often ended up in her shots too.
Nan Zhi had the fortune to sit with them and admire them together. Most were photobombs — they were originally photographing flowers, plants, or the school field, and accidentally caught him in the frame.
There were also some from events. For example, Nan Zhi discovered that Song Qing’s athletic ability was actually quite good.
From what the two girls said, basically any event with a prize, he would participate. Long-distance run, short-distance run, long jump, high jump — he’d all done. And most of the time, he could place and win the prize.
That was unexpected to Nan Zhi. But thinking about it, she could understand — he lacked money, really needed money.
And unlike modern-day “fragile-skinned” students, he often did physical labor, his body was strong — it wasn’t strange that he could place in competitions.
Nan Zhi was just startled by that intense “must-win” look and clear sense of purpose in his eyes and brows.
This kind of youthful, high-spirited Song Qing made her feel like the camera in her hand was too hot to hold.
So stunning.
With the little girl’s permission, Nan Zhi flipped another page — she saw a photo of Song Qing being surrounded by a few people in school uniforms just like his.
She looked over, confused. The girl called Yueyue explained, “This was taken one day after school, on the way to the restroom.”
The boys’ and girls’ bathrooms at school were right next to each other, so when she came out, she heard some commotion from the other side. She went over to take a look and saw that someone was surrounding him, like they were about to bully him. So she took out her camera, wanting to record the scene of the violence, maybe use it to report or as evidence.
In the end, the boys didn’t hit him — they just laughed at him for wearing girls’ stockings, said he was an embarrassment to men, told him to take them off. When he ignored them, someone held him down and pulled his socks off.
As Nan Zhi flipped the next photo, she saw the details — a few boys were pinning him down, pulling off his shoes, and tugging off his socks, then tossing them into the trash bin.
Maybe because they thought his shoes were broken, they threw those in too.
After they left, Song Qing was barefoot, stepping on fallen leaves and muddy ground, going to pick up his shoes and socks. His expression was calm and indifferent, like he was used to it — not much humiliation at all.
Maybe he had noticed her. Nan Zhi saw that, when he was putting on his shoes, he lifted his head and glanced in her direction.
“He told me not to meddle, so I didn’t call the police.”
Looks like he really did notice her.
Nan Zhi flipped a few more pages — after that, they were all some ordinary daily life photos.
He was giving a speech on stage as a representative of the freshmen, some were of him reading, and some were of him using his spare time between classes to make handmade things like braided bracelets.
Nan Zhi still intended to keep looking, when her phone vibrated. She took it out to take a look — it was a WeChat call from Song Qing.
There was also a video above it. Probably because she didn’t reply to the message or the video, he called her. Nan Zhi clicked open the video to have a look — it showed him sitting beside an old granny, holding needle and thread in his hands, knitting something.
The video was very short, only showing how he knitted.
There was also a caption below.
【Green Grass: Can I do this? While knitting, I basically don’t move the injured hand — it won’t get hurt.】
Nan Zhi went back to watch it again — it was true. That arm didn’t move at all.
Nan Zhi: “……”
This kind of clever, completely tailor-made handcraft work — really takes some talent that he could actually find it.
But this video came at just the right time too — it was exactly what Nan Zhi needed.
She could feel it — when she said Song Qing was doing well right now, the two girls didn’t quite believe it. They tried, by showing her those photos, to suggest that they were very familiar with him — a kind of silent intimidation not to do anything to him.
Like imprisoning or abusing him or something like that.
This video could prove her innocence, and could also let the two girls feel reassured.