Wei Qingyue flipped through the book rapidly with his fingers, like shuffling a deck of playing cards: “What a coincidence — I have a belly full of exactly that kind of useless but interesting knowledge. Anything you want to know, you can ask me.” As he smiled at her, a playfulness flickered in his eyes, along with something else.
Jiang Du pressed her lips together and smiled faintly. She rested both hands on the sofa fabric, gently running her fingers across it, and said: “I never properly thanked you.”
As she said it, she glanced toward the kitchen. Her grandmother walked by, quietly slipped into the room she shared with her grandfather, and pulled the door closed behind her.
“I’m not actually as noble as you think,” Wei Qingyue said. “That day, what I did wasn’t purely because of you. I hate violence — but I’ve realized I really am quite like Wei Zhendong in certain ways. And you have no idea how much I despise him. Of all the people to resemble, why did I have to be like Wei Zhendong?”
Jiang Du had heard from the teacher what happened — that Wei Qingyue had nearly throttled that man. In normal conversation, she could only say one tenth of what she was truly thinking. But in this moment, every word had to come out.
“Wei Qingyue, don’t be like this anymore.” Jiang Du said. “I once read in a book that there is a fierce tiger inside a person’s heart, and you have to learn to control it — you can’t let it swallow you whole. I’ve been thinking that people need to have a boundary when they act, and once you cross that boundary it becomes dangerous — dangerous mainly to yourself. If you had…” she suddenly shuddered violently, “…if you had beaten that person to death, we might not be old enough to go to prison yet — I don’t understand the law very well — but if we’re already eighteen, there are legal consequences. Either way, it isn’t worth it. What I mean is, you’re so good — you shouldn’t ruin your future over something like this.”
“Who would have thought — you and the teachers, you all love to lecture. Where am I good? How come I don’t know it myself.” Wei Qingyue said, half-meaning it, half-joking. He was smiling.
Jiang Du’s gaze dimmed. She managed a wan smile: “I genuinely mean it.”
He lowered his head and continued drinking his tea, as though there were some remarkable taste hidden within it. The steam rose up against his face, softening his brows and eyes.
“Alright then — I’ll listen to you.” Wei Qingyue was very decisive. He smiled at her again and noticed her arm — thin, pale, with two red dots on it, and beside the dots, scabs of purple-black.
He pointed at the red dots and said: “Mosquito bites?”
Jiang Du made a sound of assent and also looked down at her arm. She asked him: “Why do mosquito bites swell up into bumps?”
“Because when a mosquito bites you, it injects an anticoagulant substance into your skin. This substance is identified by the human immune system — simply put, the two sides start fighting, triggering an allergic reaction.” Wei Qingyue’s eyes were like rippling waves of grain swept by the wind — bright ridges and dark hollows. Outside, a flash of lightning blazed, incredibly fast, passing over the osmanthus leaves.
Jiang Du nodded with the air of someone greatly satisfied: “My store of useless but interesting knowledge has grown again.”
The rain was truly heavy, and the wind grew with it, parting the dense branches and leaves to reveal a patch of dark sky — black clouds surging. The light in the living room grew increasingly restless, leaving the figures sitting within it as nothing more than rough outlines.
“It feels like summer,” Jiang Du murmured softly to herself. Wei Qingyue said: “The Start of Summer passed long ago. It really is summer.”
“I always feel like spring hasn’t ended yet, as though summer only truly begins during vacation — eating popsicles, running the air conditioning, sleeping long afternoon naps. Otherwise, it doesn’t count as summer.” Jiang Du said this with great conviction.
Wei Qingyue had broken into a sweat from the tea. He laughed, thinking Jiang Du was especially interesting. People ought to live each day like this — spending it with someone interesting.
He asked her: “Have you thought about what you want to do in the future?”
“I want to be a journalist, or a magazine editor. What about you?” Jiang Du’s mood was going in the opposite direction from the weather outside; she asked him cheerfully.
“Me? I’ll be your interview subject.” Wei Qingyue replied with perfect ease. “Whatever you ask me, I’ll answer — I won’t give you a hard time.”
Jiang Du covered her mouth with the back of her hand and laughed.
As she laughed, she sensed her emotions were too exposed. She slowly withdrew her smile. For a moment there was nothing more to say, and the air grew slowly, silently awkward.
Wei Qingyue was genuinely sensitive to heat. Without thinking, he rolled up his cuffs, and glimpses of the vicious scars were briefly revealed. Jiang Du’s gaze automatically drifted toward them.
“My father and mother had a terrible relationship — arguing every day. I got used to it.” Wei Qingyue followed her gaze down to his own forearm and spoke of his own affairs. “They argued their arguments; I ate my meals, did my homework. Eventually the two of them divorced, and I went with Wei Zhendong. He has inferiority complexes — you may not understand a man’s inferiority complex. My mother was a top graduate from a distinguished family. He wasn’t intellectually gifted in school, not very bright, but he was good at business. My mother found him coarse and uncultured and looked down on him greatly. So he kept finding women, changing women, proving to himself that women all desired him. He filled the house with antiques and famous calligraphy paintings, dressed in suits and went to exhibitions — I suspect he couldn’t understand any of it. Besides making money and chasing women, his greatest pleasure was beating me. The more he danced around bellowing at me, the more unmoved I was. It had no effect on me. Wei Zhendong always wanted me to admit I was wrong — he had grown obsessed, as though subduing me was the same as indirectly subduing the first wife he could never control. It took me a very long time to understand why Wei Zhendong beat me so ferociously.”
The words were long, but his tone was breezy.
When Wei Qingyue finished, he smiled and asked her: “Isn’t that laughable?”
Jiang Du said quietly: “Forget all these bad things. You’ll be free of your father very soon — you’ll go on to live a good life.”
Wei Qingyue was first amused for a moment by her unadorned words, then hesitated briefly, squeezing his paper cup: “Yes. I’ll probably be going to America after summer vacation ends. I’ve been waiting for this day for a long time.” Saying this, that feeling which should have been wild elation at a dream coming true felt instead like air that had been diluted — almost impossible to find. It was as though “I’ve been waiting for this day for a long time” was only something that felt like it ought to be said aloud — the emotion itself never intensified.
So soon… Jiang Du lowered her head, and for quite a long while she seemed to be only listening to the sound of the rain.
She finally raised her eyes: “That’s wonderful. You’ll attend an incredibly prestigious university, won’t you?”
“You will too.” Wei Qingyue averted his gaze toward the balcony. “The rain seems to have gotten a little lighter.”
“Yes, it does seem a little lighter.” Jiang Du also looked outside.
“When are you going back to school?” Wei Qingyue cleared his throat.
But Jiang Du shook her head: “I don’t know. My grandparents want to move and have me transfer schools. I don’t know if I’ll still be going to Mei Middle School.”
Wei Qingyue’s paper cup slowly crumpled in his hand.
He said: “You’re transferring? Is it because of… this matter?”
Jiang Du’s eyes reddened. She turned her head away, grateful it was a rainy day with poor light. She didn’t want anyone to think she looked fragile, and that her character was equally weak.
“I suppose so. I don’t want to leave Mei Middle School, but if my grandparents insist, I’ll listen to them.”
Wei Qingyue was silent for a long time, then suddenly stood up: “I should go. You don’t need to transfer. Just wait a little.”
Jiang Du stood up after him in a mild panic. Outside the rain had not stopped. Wei Qingyue quickly changed back into his shoes, picked up his umbrella, then turned and looked at her. He said: “Don’t see me out.”
“Thank you for bringing me the materials today.” Jiang Du said quietly.
Wei Qingyue smiled: “Study hard — don’t fall behind on your lessons.”
He opened his umbrella and stepped out through the security door. Jiang Du, still in her slippers, stood in the doorway on the red mat printed with “Safe Passage,” and watched Wei Qingyue walk toward the building exit.
As he went through the exit, he turned and looked at her once more — no wave, no words. He turned and walked into the wind and the rain.
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