Tang Shuxuan was a bit sad but still perked up and said, “I can apply to his university!”
“By the way,” Chen Lin said, “I heard our school is having an anniversary celebration next month, and each class needs to perform something.”
Tang Shuxuan: “That’s true, I heard about it too when I was submitting homework at the teachers’ office today.”
Chen Lin: “Wonder what our class will perform. I heard Teacher Xu wants to arrange poetry recitation.”
Tang Shuxuan: “…Surely he’s not that uncreative?”
Chen Lin: “He said it’s his strategy, even gave it a tactical name, called the ‘Class 7 Early Bird Catches the Worm Plan.’ He said while other classes are busy preparing their performances, we’ll seize every minute to focus wholeheartedly on studying.”
“…”
Lin Zhexia ate her mille-feuille spoonful by spoonful, listening rather absent-mindedly.
Her phone on the table lit up.
“Chi” sent a new message.
He was probably asking if she had finished dessert and was heading back.
Lin Zhexia didn’t open it or reply.
While eating, she thought about what excuse to use tomorrow to avoid Chi Yao after school.
She was afraid.
Afraid that if she got too close, those feelings would uncontrollably overflow from her heart.
Afraid she would be unable to hide them, like in that parallel world dream the other day.
Afraid he would discover them.
On the bumpy bus.
Chi Yao sat in the last row, with an earbud in one ear, his phone casually flipped face down on his leg.
But from time to time, he would turn it over to check for new messages.
After a while, the phone vibrated.
There was a WeChat notification, but the sender was “Chi Hanshan.”
Chi Hanshan: [The other party recalled a message]
Chi Yao moved his finger and typed a “?”, but quickly deleted it and made a direct voice call.
The call was quickly answered.
“Dad.” Chi Yao began.
“…”
The other end was very noisy. After a moment, Chi Hanshan’s voice came through: “Hold on, it’s too loud here.”
Father and son rarely spoke on the phone, so Chi Yao felt somewhat uncomfortable, and his words carried an unconscious distance: “What did you need?”
Chi Hanshan said, “Nothing, I sent the message by mistake.”
The conversation seemed about to end there.
Chi Yao responded with an “Oh.”
Chi Hanshan then asked: “How have you been lately? Everything okay?”
Chi Yao said, “Pretty good.”
The two had nothing else to say, but before hanging up, Chi Hanshan made a rare, lengthy reminder: “Be careful at home, don’t talk to strangers who approach you, and check the doors and windows extra before going to bed.”
Chi Yao didn’t know what had gotten into Chi Hanshan today, guessing he’d probably seen some disturbing news somewhere.
After a moment, he still said: “Got it. You should watch less news.”
After hanging up, he exited the chat window and glanced at his pinned chats.
The pinned chat labeled “Scaredy-cat” still showed no activity.
Lin Zhexia hadn’t walked home with Chi Yao for three consecutive days after school.
Her excuses were varied.
Eating dessert, cultivating friendships, and she hadn’t been to the hospital in a long time, so she needed to go with Chen Lin to see her great-uncle, who was being treated there.
By the fourth day, she stood at the door of Class 1, and when Chi Yao asked, “What’s your excuse today?” she struggled for a while before coming up with: “I met a fortune teller before leaving home today.”
“?”
“The fortune teller said I must go home alone today.”
“If two people walk together,” Lin Zhexia continued slowly fabricating, “…there will be a bloody disaster.”
Chi Yao had his backpack slung over one shoulder, leaning against the back door of the classroom. Hearing this, his eyebrow raised slightly: “Where did this fortune teller come from?”
Lin Zhexia: “This morning, by the roadside in our neighborhood.”
Chi Yao gave a cool “Oh”: “I didn’t see anyone.”
Lin Zhexia tentatively said, “Your eyesight isn’t good, and maybe he had a special connection with me.”