Chen Yi and Miao Jing attended the same middle school but passed by each other as strangers. Even when special circumstances forced them to speak, they remained so distant and cold that no one suspected their relationship—except for those in the know. Bo Zai also attended the school, lived near the Chen family, and knew Miao Jing. Occasionally, he would follow behind Chen Yi to greet her.
The school had built a new five-story dormitory with mixed-gender housing—boys on the first and second floors, girls from the third floor up. The dormitory had two staircases, one for boys and one for girls.
Chen Yi lived on the first floor, and Miao Jing on the fourth. They often crossed paths at the building’s entrance and sometimes met in the cafeteria or on the playground. He played basketball and soccer every day, sneaking out to internet cafes during evening study hall. By then, Chen Yi had grown into an adolescent boy, shooting up to an unreachable height, with loose pant legs, long limbs, an Adam’s apple, and a cracking voice. He secretly smoked. Word was that the PE teacher wanted to recruit him for the sports team and send him to sports school, but for some reason, it never happened.
Ninth grade was graduation year, and the school focused on high school entrance exam rates. Chen Yi seemed to fight less and cause less trouble while still wandering—meeting a dedicated homeroom teacher is every bad student’s fortune, and it was one reason Chen Yi stayed in school. His homeroom teacher, surname Li, was a short, stocky middle-aged man. In eighth grade, Teacher Li had kept Chen Yi off the expulsion list. Every semester, Teacher Li would catch Chen Yi and bring him back to school, even contacting Chen Libin about tuition. Chen Yi’s grades weren’t rock bottom—his best performance had placed him in the class’s top ten, reportedly due to a bet where the entire class wagered money against him. He won over a thousand yuan at once and received a school disciplinary notice.
He was especially popular at school, particularly during basketball games and sports meets, drawing large crowds. Sometimes Miao Jing would hear upper-class girls in her building gossiping, frequently mentioning Chen Yi’s name, calling him cool and handsome, his eyes fierce yet bright, his smile wicked and dazzling, with a bad-boy charm that made hearts flutter. Even the school beauty had a secret crush on him. Miao Jing couldn’t understand how so many strange adjectives could apply to one boy—she only remembered him being beaten and sleeping.
Miao Jing also grew taller in middle school and her skin became fairer, but she still looked childish. Since washing hair was inconvenient at school, she cut it short like Cherry from Chibi Maruko-chan, with slightly puffy baby-fat cheeks. When passing Chen Yi’s group of delinquent boys, she would lower her eyes and step aside, her curled eyelashes fluffy, a thin and quiet junior student. Some would turn their heads repeatedly, saying she was cute and they wanted to pursue her. Chen Yi would walk lazily, mockingly: “You’re interested in elementary school kids? If you’re sick, go to the hospital. Don’t embarrass yourself here.”
The boys would laugh heartily while Miao Jing silently furrowed her delicate brows in displeasure.
Both children lived in dorms. Wei Mingzhen, having nothing to do at home, found work as a hostess in a tea house. She hadn’t been able to get pregnant these past few years and seemed unable to fully enter the family’s core domain. Chen Libin spent every day obsessed with stock trading and gaming, chatting passionately with strange women online. Despite the power bureau’s excellent benefits and amazing bonuses, Wei Mingzhen never gained control of the finances—she even had to scrape together her own mahjong money.
Wei Mingzhen began arguing with Chen Libin, with earth-shattering arguments. But after living in Teng City for these years, ending the relationship wasn’t simple. She couldn’t go back home—after years of free room and board, and children’s school expenses, though Chen Libin wasn’t necessarily generous, he hadn’t been too harsh either. Like chicken ribs: tasteless to eat, but a waste to throw away.
Miao Jing knew about their arguments. Wei Mingzhen worked every day, and Miao Jing remained wary of Chen Libin. Although she went home weekly for living expenses, she only stayed one day—returning Saturday morning and going back to school Sunday afternoon. Chen Yi barely went home during his ninth-grade year, occasionally returning to grab something. No one knew how he received his living expenses; perhaps he had his ways of making money.
Every Sunday afternoon, boarding students would return to school with their living expenses. The commercial street outside the school gates bustled with people. Miao Jing and her dormmates would shop together, buying stationery and snacks.
Near the school gates were small restaurants, stationery shops, and boutiques. Walking further to the residential area, there were hidden internet cafes, game rooms, and pool halls. The girls said boys from their class secretly came here to play games, and the school’s gangs, big brothers, and big sisters often hung out here. They curiously peeked around—the storefronts in the alley were open, shutters half-drawn, voices coming from inside. They could only see green pool tables, and people walking around them, and the game arcade was similar, with pinball machines at the entrance and rumbling sound effects from within.
The young girls didn’t dare venture in, just looking out of curiosity for the excitement. At the alley’s end, turning toward school, they saw several boys gathered ahead, some crouching, some standing, smoking with an air of supremacy and a hooligan demeanor. This group stopped two girls, said something, waved them away, and then stopped passing boys who reluctantly took something from their pockets and walked away dejectedly.
“They’re extorting money from people.”
“What should we do? Should we keep going forward?”
“Let’s take another route, I’m a bit scared…”
Miao Jing followed her friends, turning to quickly retreat.
“Hey, you lot! Why are you running? Come back here!” Someone shouted from behind. “Just you girls, dare to run? Try it! Come here!”
Five or six girls tremblingly stopped, shrinking as they turned around, inching forward step by step.
The one who called out was a dark-skinned boy wearing a denim jacket, cigarette dangling from his mouth, holding a wooden stick. His gaze swept over the girls: “Where were you planning to run?”
“Back… back to school.”
“What for? To tell teachers or find security?”
“No, no, we’re going back for evening study hall.”
“If you dare tell the school, you girls are asking for death, understand?!”
“Yes!”
A chubby white boy walked over, seeing the girls carrying snacks, knowing they had money: “How much money do you have? Let’s see it.”
“Not… not much.” The girls were all panicked.
“Yi-ge said not to rob girls, it’s beneath us.” The dark-skinned boy swung his long stick, tapping his chubby companion. “Let them go, girls are the worst tattletales.”
“Go on then, but if the school finds out…” The chubby one’s sharp eyes caught a student ID in one girl’s pocket, “Class 1-5, you lot, you’ll regret it if you talk.”
“Okay…”
The group walked forward fearfully with lowered heads, steps hurried and chaotic.
A buzz-cut boy sitting nearby flicked his cigarette to the ground, and slowly stood up, hands in his pockets, lazily leaning against the wall. He stretched out his long leg, blocking Miao Jing who was last in line.
His voice was also languid, lacking energy: “You—”
Dark eyes circled her body, seeing her holding skewered meatballs. His stomach growled, and he reached to grab them. Miao Jing hadn’t expected this, suddenly letting go and shrinking back. Seeing her startled, dodging movement, he half-closed his eyes and smiled contemptuously: “Scared to death?”
Swallowing several meatballs in one bite, Chen Yi threw the skewer on the ground, casually clapping his hands, shamelessly extorting his junior: “How much money do you have? Hand it over.”
The dark-skinned one had just said—don’t rob girls.
Miao Jing’s eyes showed slight panic, glancing at Chen Yi twice, pressing her cherry lips together, silent.
He wore clothes she’d never seen before—a black hoodie and jeans. Taking advantage of his height, hunching his back, he looked every bit the hoodlum. His chin had a light blue tinge with several small cuts from razor blades. His eyes stared at her like a tiger, his gaze carrying an implicit threat mixed with lazy indifference.
Miao Jing clutched her uniform hem, fine brows slightly furrowed, lips trembling, her slender figure appearing timid, seemingly too frightened to speak.
Chen Yi saw her indignant yet fearful expression, raised an eyebrow, opened his folding fruit knife, wiping fingerprints from the blade, his voice cold: “Where’s the money? Want me to search you?”
The group watched, her female classmates trembling as they watched Miao Jing, not daring to breathe. Miao Jing glimpsed the cold silver blade, swallowed, and slowly pulled out a roll of bills from her pocket, holding it out to him.
“How much?”
“Ninety-eight…”
As a boarding student, she didn’t need to buy daily necessities—she used the welfare items from Chen Libin’s work unit. She only had a one hundred yuan weekly allowance for three meals, a bathroom, hot water facilities, and stationery, with a bit left for pocket money. She’d just spent two yuan on two skewers of meatballs—one in her stomach, one eaten by Chen Yi.
Chen Yi nodded, took the money, folded his knife, and pushed her shoulder: “Go.”
Miao Jing stumbled forward, steadied by her classmates, and they ran away in a flash.
The boys were all amazed, mouths agape, questioning confusedly: “Brother Yi, didn’t you say not to extort girls? Why’d you do it? And pick the prettiest little sister too, showing no mercy to beauty.”
“She’s different.” Chen Yi carelessly looked away: “Come on, let’s eat, I’ve been hungry all day.”
Back in the dormitory, the girls who had gone out together discussed how only Miao Jing had been robbed by the thugs. The girls were anxious: “What should we do? Should we tell the teachers? Or call home?”
Miao Jing sat dejectedly on the bed edge, staring blankly: “Forget it…”