Zhu Yun returned to her room and collapsed face-first onto the bed. Her senior asked how she was doing, but Zhu Yun couldn’t get a single word out.
From her abdomen all the way up to her shoulders, it felt as though every organ inside her had been stolen away. Even breathing felt like an effort.
Just sleep.
She buried her face in the pillow and forced herself to think: sleep it off, and everything will be fine.
That night, Zhu Yun dreamed. In the dream, heaven and earth had just come into being — chaotic and formless — and she was pinned beneath enormous boulders, unable to move even a fraction.
When she woke, her chest was still tight, her breathing shallow, and the nausea was unbearable.
The following day the school had other activities scheduled. Gao Jianhong came to find Zhu Yun and go together, but Zhu Yun declined, saying she wasn’t feeling well and would sit it out.
“What — you’re not going out either?” Gao Jianhong said, baffled. “What’s going on with everyone? Is it the local food not agreeing with you? It shouldn’t be.”
Zhu Yun hadn’t slept properly all night. Her eyes were threaded with red. She looked at Gao Jianhong.
“Li Xun…”
Gao Jianhong said, “He didn’t sleep last night either — stayed up the whole time working on something. This morning Xu Lina came to find him and the two of them talked for over half an hour.”
Zhu Yun’s mind was sluggish. She had no desire to think about anything. “I’m going back to sleep a while longer. Go on without me.”
Gao Jianhong looked at her with some concern. “You sure you’re alright?”
Zhu Yun shook her head. Gao Jianhong said, “Want me to go get you something to eat?”
“No need.”
She had no appetite whatsoever.
Even though Zhu Yun had turned down Gao Jianhong’s offer, he went and bought her breakfast anyway — all light, easy-on-the-stomach dishes.
Gao Jianhong arranged the bowls and plates, then picked up a second portion, sweat beading on his forehead.
“Now I’ve got to deliver this to Li Xun too — I swear, I’m basically a babysitter for the two of you!”
Though Gao Jianhong grumbled non-stop, Zhu Yun knew him well enough to see that his mood was actually quite good. Most likely because their group’s results were practically guaranteed to take first place.
“Eat something,” Gao Jianhong said.
Not wanting to refuse his kindness, Zhu Yun picked up her chopsticks and started eating.
As she ate, she asked, “What’s Li Xun been up to — did the lab take on another project?”
“No idea.” Gao Jianhong shrugged. “Can’t get a word out of him either. He’s been dark and brooding — honestly a bit unsettling.”
Zhu Yun chewed absently on the plastic spoon.
Over the remaining days, Li Xun seemed to have completely vanished. Calls went unanswered, messages unreturned. He left at the crack of dawn and didn’t return until well past midnight — sometimes not at all.
Zhu Yun and Gao Jianhong could barely catch a glimpse of him. Right up until the evening before the competition, when the old teacher Lin called all the students together for one final run-through of their work and to go over key reminders, Li Xun was still nowhere to be found.
Old Lin’s moustache bristled with indignation. “These reminders are meant precisely for him! And he’s still not here!”
Everyone quietly looked down at the floor.
“What’s going on — where has he gone off to?” Old Lin asked Gao Jianhong and Zhu Yun. Zhu Yun played dumb. Gao Jianhong answered in a low voice, “We don’t know either…”
“The competition is tomorrow! And we still don’t know where he is?” Seeing Old Lin’s blood pressure clearly on the rise again, Zhu Yun quickly handed him his teacup. “Teacher, have some water.”
Old Lin gulped down several large mouthfuls of tea, then said to Gao Jianhong, “Get yourself ready. If he still doesn’t show up tomorrow, you’ll be doing the defense.”
Gao Jianhong nodded. “Alright.” After all the preparation they’d put in, both he and Zhu Yun already knew their project inside and out.
Old Lin sat back down but couldn’t resist muttering under his breath, “That insufferable boy — not a single day goes by without him causing worry…”
Zhu Yun silently agreed.
Honestly, where on earth had he disappeared to? One moment inattentive, and he’d gone completely off the grid.
The day of the final.
The competition was held in the convention center of the administrative building. To match the occasion, the school had hung up a great many banners and slogans, and the entrance was lined with flowers and large display posters. The sponsors, unwilling to miss any opportunity for publicity, had brought along several photographers, with camera positions set up so there were no blind spots.
Volunteer staff at the entrance guided the competing students to their designated seats.
The atmosphere in the venue was charged. Zhu Yun took a deep breath and looked around. Staff moved through the aisles, and students gathered in small groups, all making final preparations for their upcoming defenses.
Li Xun still hadn’t come, as expected.
Something must have happened.
Although Li Xun’s way of doing things had always been unconventional, when he committed to something, he never backed out halfway. Zhu Yun knew for certain that something had come up.
“Let’s go find Li Xun together once today is over,” Zhu Yun said to Gao Jianhong. “He probably ran into some urgent matter.”
“Sure.” Gao Jianhong’s attention was entirely focused on the upcoming competition, his expression intent. Zhu Yun wasn’t sure whether he’d really taken it in.
Zhu Yun looked toward the front. Not far ahead, Fang Zhijing was seated next to Liang Yuxin. Liang Yuxin wore light makeup and a pale blue dress, sitting beside Fang Zhijing. Since they weren’t competing, both of them looked perfectly at ease.
Someone poked her from behind. Zhu Yun turned around — Xu Lina was draped over the back of the seat in front, swaying her head from side to side.
“Hey, where’s Li Xun?”
Zhu Yun said, “We don’t know either.”
“How strange.”