The second week at Huan Er Middle School began in a torrential downpour. Heavy rain curtains obscured the path ahead as the crowded bus trudged along. Squeezed in the middle of the vehicle, Qiao Qingyu couldn’t reach any handrails, her body swaying with each frequent start and stop. The magnetic male voice eloquently reading English prose in her headphones held no appeal. She looked up at the small TV mounted in front of her.
“According to the weather bureau, the heavy rainfall caused by this typhoon will continue until the morning of the 9th. No casualties have been reported so far. The meteorological bureau has issued a Level II typhoon warning. Relevant departments must continue preventive measures for ships seeking shelter, reservoir flood control, and secondary disasters such as urban and rural waterlogging, flash floods, and landslides…”
Among the rapidly changing images above the scrolling text, Qiao Qingyu unexpectedly caught sight of Nan Qiao Village. The once-gentle stream had transformed into a raging river, its muddy yellow waters flooding into the familiar white-walled, black-tiled mansion at the village entrance.
That was her grandparents’ house.
Qiao Qingyu removed her headphones—an unconscious gesture, as she preferred silence when worried.
A pair of eyes from the back of the bus gazed at her over the crowd. Qiao Qingyu turned around, meeting a pair of gentle, beautiful eyes.
The girl also wore the Huan Er Middle School uniform.
After getting off the bus, the girl quickly caught up with Qiao Qingyu. She carried a long-handled transparent umbrella, its surface curved to her elbow, the black frame resembling a birdcage.
“Classmate,” the girl reached through the rain curtain and tapped Qiao Qingyu’s umbrella, “your hair is messy on top.”
Lifting her umbrella, Qiao Qingyu found the girl had rather delicate features. To someone used to great beauties like Qiao Baiyu, her features seemed somewhat ordinary, but her curved, smiling eyes were full of kindness, possessing a sort of reassuring beauty. Moreover, she dressed conservatively—wearing a long-sleeved athletic jacket over her short-sleeved uniform, which inexplicably increased Qiao Qingyu’s favorable impression.
Touching her head, she found a small section of hair indeed curved upward. Qiao Qingyu’s ponytail was already loose; she must have caught her hair when unconsciously removing her headphones earlier.
While thanking her, Qiao Qingyu quickly glanced at the girl’s name tag: Class 1, Grade 3, Wang Mumu.
As Wang Mumu’s graceful figure departed, two words flashed through Qiao Qingyu’s mind with genuine admiration: School Beauty.
After a whole night of mental preparation, Qiao Qingyu believed she was ready to face her misfortune. Passive people were always led by the nose; she had to take initiative.
She entered the classroom through the back door, passing by Ming Sheng’s desk where she placed the black folder containing his weekend homework with a loud “thump” on the empty desktop.
“Why the face darker than the sky? So scary,” Ye Zilin, who witnessed this, showed disdain, “What’s that?”
Qiao Qingyu ignored him and walked straight to her seat.
“Hey, are you deaf or mute?” Ye Zilin grew angry with embarrassment, “Just because Ah Sheng said a few words to you, you’re flying high? Look at yourself, you village girl! If you weren’t useful, Ah Sheng wouldn’t even notice you! Don’t tell me you thought Ah Sheng had feelings for you and wrote him a love letter?”
These harsh words carried a familiar feeling. Qiao Qingyu couldn’t help but wonder if Ming Sheng had told his cronies about her sister, which was why Ye Zilin imagined her to be like her sister and insulted her so freely.
She certainly hadn’t written Ming Sheng a love letter, though she had placed an envelope in the black folder. The note inside contained two sentences: one a polite and sincere apology, for her mother; the other a righteous declaration, for herself.
Ming Sheng’s reaction would likely be another storm, how terrible, Qiao Qingyu didn’t want or care to imagine in detail. She could only do what was right for herself—this was her conclusion after a night of deep contemplation.
The nightmare she and her family had endured in Shun Yun and tried to avoid in Huan Zhou was all caused by Qiao Baiyu, but the instigator had already departed. Perhaps sparked by Li Fanghao, Qiao Qingyu had developed hatred toward Qiao Baiyu. She could forgive her sister’s past malice toward herself, but she couldn’t allow her sister to drag the whole family into the mire. Cowering would only stimulate others’ curiosity; facing public opinion fearlessly was the correct attitude for their new life.
She had to proudly and resolutely declare to outsiders that Qiao Baiyu’s disgraceful actions had nothing to do with her.
Thinking this way, Qiao Qingyu even felt somewhat anticipatory about Ming Sheng’s reaction. From the moment he appeared in the classroom, the warning bell in her heart began counting down, as if waiting for an expected volcanic eruption—both nervous and exciting.
When Ming Sheng put down his shoulder bag, Gao Chi, the physics class representative collecting homework, happened to reach his desk.
“Take it yourself,” Ming Sheng said, dumping all the homework books and test papers from the folder onto his desk.
While pulling out the physics test paper, Gao Chi accidentally dropped a light white envelope to the ground and picked it up: “Ah Sheng, there’s a letter here…”
“Don’t want it,” Ming Sheng interrupted Gao Chi, not even looking, speaking loudly and deliberately drawing, “The trash can is right by your feet, please throw it away for me.”
Qiao Qingyu tilted her head slightly then quickly straightened it—stay calm, she reminded herself.
“I’ll look at it for you, Brother Sheng,” Ye Zilin laughed sleazily, “So it won’t dirty your eyes.”
Saying this, he got up and snatched the envelope from Gao Chi’s hand, about to open it, when Ming Sheng suddenly stood up.
“Give it back to me.”
Taking the envelope, Ming Sheng bent down to take out the handwritten warning paper Qiao Qingyu had compensated him with last week and strode forward with his long legs toward the slender figure with a ponytail by the window who remained motionless.
Qiao Qingyu felt Ming Sheng getting closer. Outside the window to her left, the rain poured heavily; to her right, the air stagnated with the sudden appearance of the black figure.
“Hey,” Ming Sheng’s impatient voice came from above, “Stop writing this nonsense and putting it on my desk.”
At these words, several boys in the back rows laughed loudly, and Ye Zilin excitedly started clapping, causing the whole class to turn around to watch the show.
Qiao Qingyu instinctively wanted to counter, but when she looked up, she unexpectedly found a gentle smile in Ming Sheng’s eyes. She opened her mouth, but the retort that had rushed to her lips dissolved into the air.
“Here,” Ming Sheng spoke again, the smile in his eyes disappearing, replaced by towering pity, “Poor thing.”
With that, he casually tossed the envelope and paper onto Qiao Qingyu’s desk.
The boys’ guffaws and girls’ snickers made Qiao Qingyu want to push open the window and jump out. Blood rushing to her head, she stood up with a “whoosh.”
“What,” Ming Sheng spoke before she could, his tone full of provocation, “Wasn’t it written by you?”
“You’re the pitiful one,” Qiao Qingyu gritted her teeth, “Pitiful in your narcissism.”
Ye Zilin was the first to let out an “ooh” of surprise, and other boys were about to join in but were silenced by Ming Sheng’s icy glare as he turned his head.
“Qiao Qingyu,” Ming Sheng turned back, his face darkening, “Personal attacks are wrong.”
“You called me pitiful first…”
“Wasn’t I stating a fact?” Ming Sheng impatiently raised his chin, his eyes full of contempt, “With a sister like that, a mother like that, don’t you know you’re pitiful?”
Qiao Qingyu was speechless again.
Like someone in a dream suddenly awakened, she abruptly realized she had always been inferior. Her hatred for Qiao Baiyu grew stronger, “a sister like that.” In life, she wanted to take all attention; in death, she pushed the whole family into an abyss and tortured their mother into “a mother like that,” making herself lose freedom in life and dignity among classmates. Qiao Qingyu hated her.
“Given how pitiful you are,” Ming Sheng took on a victor’s pose, “I’ll forgive what you just said about me…”
“Qiao Baiyu is Qiao Baiyu, I am me. Her degrading herself doesn’t mean I will degrade myself,” Qiao Qingyu roughly interrupted Ming Sheng, looking straight into his pitch-black eyes, “Using her disgraceful acts to threaten me—you’re the despicable one.”