On Friday, the tall phoenix trees on campus spread their green leaves, cradling the scorching sunlight as the thick, heavy air swept through every corner. Fortunately, compared to Nanjiang’s summers, the heat was bearable now.
After morning reading session ended, Lin Weixia and Fang Mo went together to the corridor corner to fetch water. Fang Mo hooked her arm through Lin Weixia’s affectionately and said, “I’m so glad you’re here. Being an F-student doesn’t feel so bad anymore.”
The two arrived at the water dispenser. Fang Mo shook her water cup at Lin Weixia, her tone light and cheerful: “Look at my new cup — my dad had someone go to quite a bit of trouble to get it. It’s a limited-edition collaboration model.”
The cup in Fang Mo’s hand was a cat-paw capsule thermos from a certain upscale brand — a pink cat-paw sleeve thermos, the tag still on, glinting in the reflected sunlight.
“It’s pretty,” Lin Weixia offered in response.
Fang Mo smiled. Lin Weixia stood to the side, pressed the blue button, and filled a cup of warm water. Feeling a little thirsty, she stood by the dispenser and slowly sipped.
“Weixia, your cup is quite nice — what brand is it?” Fang Mo asked.
Lin Weixia swallowed a mouthful of water. Hearing the question, she lifted the cup and examined it along its ridges, then smiled: “It’s not worth much — just an ordinary glass cup with a ribbed pattern. My family runs a fruit shop; it was a freebie that came with a fruit juice order.”
While the two were talking, someone tapped Lin Weixia’s shoulder. She turned around — it was an A-student, one of two girls who were close friends with Li Shengran.
“Li Shengran’s birthday is this week. Her family is hosting a party — you can come.”
She said she had been sent by Li Shengran to extend the invitation, but A-students were typically arrogant. Even though Lin Weixia was wearing Shengao’s school uniform, with one glance they had already noted her bag and the bit of knitted sock peeking out from her black stitched soft-leather shoes — both practically broadcasting the word “cheap.”
So instead of saying “would you like to come?” or “you’re invited,” the girl said condescendingly that she could come.
Lin Weixia wasn’t angry. She replied in a mild but direct tone: “Sorry, I have other plans this weekend.”
The two girls were momentarily surprised by her refusal, but shrugged and said nothing. As they left, one of them glanced at the cup in Lin Weixia’s hand and remarked: “Nice cup.”
The butterfly birthmark on Lin Weixia’s face was beautiful — paired with her face, her whole being radiated a unique artistic beauty, with a cool and solitary quality.
People simply cannot resist beauty.
They even want to draw close on their own initiative.
The A-student had a much more expensive brand-name cup in her hand, yet she was willing to praise an ordinary glass with a ribbed pattern — ultimately because the person was special.
Not following the crowd, instead possessing her own individual charm — without even trying, she earned people’s admiration.
After they left, Fang Mo nearly jumped up and said: “See! I told you your cup was nice.”
Lin Weixia was still wondering why Li Shengran, who clearly didn’t like her, was now inviting her. When she heard Fang Mo’s voice, her thoughts were pulled back. She smiled and replied:
“If you like it, I’ll bring one from home for you tomorrow — there are plenty more.”
“Oh yes! Weixia, you’re the best!” Fang Mo’s tone was delighted. Then, in the same breath, she shifted her tone to one tinged with envy: “But why aren’t you going to their party? They basically never invite F-students to hang out — except on rare occasions when an F-student goes to help at the party. You could go and have a great time.”
“The shop at home is quite busy on weekends,” Lin Weixia explained.
The two walked back toward the classroom together. Fang Mo always had a lot to say whenever she was with Lin Weixia, and in no time she was talking again about how she’d been very worried that things had gotten too tense between Lin Weixia and Li Shengran, and that life might be unpleasant afterward.
“But where did you find that name badge?” Fang Mo asked the same question Liu Sijia had.
Lin Weixia had to explain once more. Fang Mo’s eyes went wide, and then, as if something clicked: “That’s just how Ban Sheng is! You probably don’t know — he’s incredibly good at drawing, genuinely gifted. He designed the Shengao school uniform. The principal saw it at the time and loved it, and wanted to buy the design.”
“But guess what — he wouldn’t sell. He said he’d give it for free, but Ban Sheng set one condition.”
“What?” Lin Weixia asked.
“He said the entire supply chain for the school-provided uniforms had to go through him.” Fang Mo snapped her fingers.
Based on what Liu Sijia had said, Ban Sheng really did have a sharp mind — the kind of person who knew how to leverage prior conditions. Lin Weixia suddenly thought of something and frowned: “So dividing people into hierarchies using the neckties — that was Ban Sheng’s idea?”
“That I don’t know. I didn’t come up through Shengao — I was transferred in from another school as a quota student, so I’m not clear on the backstory,” Fang Mo said, scratching her head.
Lin Weixia couldn’t help but continue: “Didn’t anyone raise objections? Dividing people into social tiers so openly.”
“There were objections — some F-students spoke up, but they were shot down. Laughable, isn’t it? Shengao claims democracy and openness as its guiding principles. They even set up a senior student support department. But all the department heads are A-students, so of course they disagreed. The official explanation was that it’s Shengao’s tradition.”
Just then the class bell rang, and Lin Weixia held back what she wanted to say and returned to the classroom for lessons.
Outside of class, when Lin Weixia and Liu Sijia went to the school convenience store to buy cold drinks, she brought up the matter of Li Shengran inviting her to the party.
Liu Sijia was browsing the freezer section picking out ice cream. She picked up the thread: “Did you agree?”
Lin Weixia grabbed a litchi-flavored crushed-ice pop, took a bite, and shook her head: “No — I declined.”
Liu Sijia picked up a tub of Häagen-Dazs, grabbed a wooden spoon from the cashier counter, and walked with Lin Weixia toward the classroom. Liu Sijia dug out a spoonful of ice cream and popped it in her mouth, then let out a cold snort:
“Li Shengran invited me too. She’s come to make peace.”
Liu Sijia’s eyes shifted as she speculated: “Or rather — someone put pressure on her.”
“So you turned her down too?” Lin Weixia asked.
Liu Sijia traced her spoon in a circle around the ice cream, her lips still a vivid red: “No — I said yes. He’ll be there too, because Li Shengran’s brother is one of Ban Sheng’s closest friends.”
“Weixia, come with me.”
Lin Weixia was about to decline, but the moment she looked into Liu Sijia’s eyes, she remembered that day when Liu Sijia had stood up for her in front of everyone, calmly stating: she’s my friend.
“All right.”
Following Fang Mo’s questions that day, Lin Weixia remembered she still owed Ban Sheng twelve yuan and hadn’t found an opportunity to repay it. So when Chinese language exercise books were being handed out during the evening self-study period, she tucked twelve yuan in paper bills inside one of them.
After finishing distribution, Lin Weixia pulled out her chair and sat down. Ning Chao had just come back from the basketball court, strutting in wearing his bold pink T-shirt, and promptly fell asleep.
Outside the window, the fiery sunset clouds looked like a burst fruit candy, crushing apart glittering crystalline sugar frosting, while the evening breeze rustled the test papers on the desks with a flapping sound.
The teacher on duty sat at the lectern marking papers. The evening self-study session was tinged with a small amount of noise. Lin Weixia was bent over, diligently working on her English homework.