Cen Jin sat in her car, staring absently at the school motto stone monument in the distance. Soon, a tall figure came running through the twilight.
She squinted to make it out—indeed, it was Li Wu.
Was it her imagination, or had Li Wu grown taller in just these few days?
But the most obvious change was the emotion emanating from him. During his first two days, he had been downcast, gloomy, and struggling to adapt. Now he was much better—no longer so tense, with a vitality bubbling up that could be sensed from far away.
He already looked a little different from the other high school boys gradually leaving the school.
Cen Jin’s eyes curved as she flashed her hazard lights twice to get his attention.
The youth’s steps faltered, slowing down. He looked over, his eyes dark and bright.
Cen Jin lowered the passenger window and waved to him.
All his excitement instantly contained, Li Wu pressed his lips together and walked over.
He stopped outside, slightly out of breath, his chest rising and falling as he stared at her without blinking.
Cen Jin frowned: “Get in.”
Li Wu came to his senses and pulled open the door to sit down.
There was a rich savory smell in the car, and he couldn’t help but twitch his nose.
“Haven’t had dinner yet, right?” Cen Jin didn’t start the car immediately, but took out a cup of oden from the cup holder and handed it to him: “Bought it from the convenience store next door. Have this first to tide you over.”
Li Wu took it and asked: “Have you eaten?”
Since meeting him, this was the first time he’d asked her a question in return. Cen Jin was surprised and asked: “What, are you offering to treat me?”
Li Wu was slightly stunned, his gaze darting elsewhere as he fell silent.
Seeing him reverting to his old ways, Cen Jin stopped teasing: “I’m not hungry. You eat this first, then we’ll see where to go for a proper meal.”
“Mm.” Li Wu obediently forked a meatball into his mouth.
As he raised his hand, the electronic watch on his wrist flashed briefly under Cen Jin’s gaze.
She saw it and asked cheerfully: “Is the watch working well?”
Li Wu hurried to answer, quickly pushing the meatball to one side of his cheek, mumbling unclearly: “Working well.”
His cheek bulging out made him look amusingly cute, and Cen Jin wanted to laugh: “Go ahead and eat.”
The youth began chewing seriously.
Cen Jin discovered that watching Li Wu eat seemed more… appetizing. Than watching those mukbang videos, if one could describe it that way. After all, mukbangs inevitably carried an element of exaggeration and commercialization, but Li Wu was different—he was simply sincere, even reverent.
During her comparison, the youth glanced at her sideways, his brow furrowing quickly before he buried his head elsewhere.
Though the movement was slight, almost imperceptible, Cen Jin caught it all. She smiled in understanding: “Alright, you eat, I won’t watch anymore.”
She turned to fiddle with her phone, checking WeChat messages. The screencast her face in a luminous white.
Li Wu glanced at her from the corner of his eye, then quietly raised his hand to rub his slightly warm ears.
After Li Wu finished eating, they set off.
Cen Jin asked about his studies: “How is it going? Are the classes difficult?”
“It’s okay.” Li Wu answered honestly. He wasn’t trying to put on a brave face—he had been working hard to catch up. Though he was behind in some courses, it wasn’t by an insurmountable amount. As long as he made time for intensive study, he could keep up successfully.
Cen Jin asked further: “What about your teachers?”
“Better than at my previous school.”
“Obviously.”
“…”
Li Wu couldn’t argue—it was indeed stating the obvious.
“Have you run into Teacher Qi these days?”
Li Wu said: “Once during break time.”
“Did you greet him?”
“Mm.” Li Wu’s tone became slightly uncertain. Throughout the week, he had mostly kept to himself in class, and when he did go out, he kept his eyes straight ahead, barely making eye contact with anyone. Teacher Qi recognized him first and greeted him before he responded.
“What about dormitory life? Your roommates should be nice,” Cen Jin was still concerned about the state of the room from the moving-in day: “It’s fine to be friends, but don’t be influenced by them—still need to stay clean.”
Speaking of this reminded Cen Jin of her first visit to Li Wu’s home two years ago.
The house had been bare but kept extremely neat. Li Wu’s grandfather had been well-cared for, his face free of dirt. Li Wu had brought two bowls of clear water, his fingernails clean and neat—quite rare among the children they had evaluated. Poverty to a certain degree usually meant either no capability or no care for such things, but Li Wu was different. Even trapped in difficult circumstances, he maintained his standards and dignity.
These details suddenly surfaced in her mind, though she thought she couldn’t possibly have remembered them.
After all, that day she had been mentally resistant, silent throughout, not even touching the bowl of water.
Thinking of this, she glanced again at Li Wu’s fingers holding the oden cup—long, thin, and knuckled, nails still meticulously trimmed.
Cen Jin sighed deeply in reflection, her tone softening: “If anything at school makes you uncomfortable, you must tell me.”
Li Wu said: “Okay.”
“And if I do anything that makes you uncomfortable, you should tell me too, remind me, alright?” She made it sound like a pact.