When the first bell rang on the first day of the new semester after winter break, Chang Ying stepped into the classroom in the nick of time. The room was still a cacophony of chatter. Qin Ruanshu and Tan Junzi were talking across the aisle, while Luo Zihan had Qin Ruanshu’s workbook spread across his desk, frantically copying her homework.
Chang Ying sat down, a milk pouch dangling from his mouth, and glanced at Zhang Da’s seat. He was surprised to find it empty.
Usually, Chang Ying was the last one to arrive. Every time he sat down, he’d have to make Zhang Da push back his encroaching desk, and the two of them would spend a few noisy moments clattering their chairs and tables to settle the border dispute. Today, Zhang Da was late. His desk stood there obediently, not encroaching by a single inch, which felt strangely off to Chang Ying.
“Zhang Da’s not here?” Chang Ying asked casually as he dropped his bag on the floor.
Tan Junzi placed a breakfast she had bought for him on his desk—steamed buns that were still radiating heat. No one seemed to know where Zhang Da was, though Luo Zihan spared a glance toward Chang Ying in the middle of his frantic writing, looking as if he wanted to say something but hesitated.
It didn't seem like a big deal at first; people took sick leave or personal leave all the time. No one gave it much thought.
Teacher Li hurried in clutching her textbooks. She didn't mention Zhang Da either, launching straight into a series of motivational platitudes about the "new atmosphere" of the new semester.
It wasn't until the textbooks were being distributed that everyone realized something was wrong.
As the books were passed back from the front of each row, Chang Ying placed Zhang Da’s copy directly on his empty desk. Seeing this, Teacher Li spoke up. “Oh, give Zhang Da’s copy to Luo Zihan.” As the class looked on in confusion, she added vaguely, “Zhang Da has some family matters to attend to. He won’t be able to come to school for the next two weeks. Luo Zihan, since you’re close with him, you can give it to him later.”
At those words, Tan Junzi and her friends exchanged glances. She turned to look at Luo Zihan, but he just scratched his head, spread Qin Ruanshu’s assignment across his lap, and continued copying the multiple-choice answers.
*
After the incident in the haunted house, Tan Junzi had gone home and felt more frustrated the more she thought about it. She felt she hadn't performed well in the moment; she should have just kneed him in the vitals so he couldn't have pinned her down like that.
It wasn't as if no one had ever confessed to her before. But when young boys confessed, they were usually shy yet bright, full of confidence but laced with trepidation. Even though she always turned them down, it never felt like a burden. One side openly expressed their feelings, the other openly declined, and after about a month of awkwardness, the page would turn, and they could still study in the same classroom.
But the thing with Qin Ke frustrated her because he hadn't actually confessed. What did "Your name is really beautiful" even mean? Plenty of people thought her name was nice, but none of them had pinned her against a wall and breathed like that—this wasn't a romance novel.
Furthermore, his attitude made her uncomfortable. When he finally let her go, he acted as if he were "letting her off the hook for today." Honestly, who did he think he was? What right did he have to treat her like that? Were they even that close? Thinking about it at home made her want to kick the walls in frustration.
Tan Junzi finally understood the psychological shadow cast on girls who experienced even more severe sexual harassment. You couldn't fully empathize with certain things until they happened to you. Just being forced against a wall and made to listen to strange remarks felt as disgusting as swallowing a fly; she couldn't imagine what it was like for others. In real life, being treated that way by a boy you didn't like felt repulsive.
Before this, Tan Junzi actually hadn't had a bad impression of Qin Ke. Although his attitude was elusive—sometimes warm and gentle, sometimes cold as ice—he generally commanded her respect. Everyone had their quirks, after all. She especially admired the way he worked to earn money and maintained the martial arts hall on his own.
But that admiration wasn't love. Even if she *did* like him, she wouldn't have been able to accept him acting that way out of the blue. Everything had to be based on mutual consent; otherwise, it was an offense.
Having never experienced anything like it, she had been a bit stunned at the time. That was why, when she saw Chang Ying afterward, waves of grievance had surged in her heart. She felt that Chang Ying was the kindest, cleanest, and gentlest boy in the world. He always had a perfect sense of boundaries and never forced her to do anything she didn't want to do. When he patted her head or pinched her cheeks, she didn't mind at all. Being with him was just... comfortable.
*Sigh.*
She agonized over the incident every night before bed. First, she would mentally lecture Qin Ke, feeling that her words at the time hadn't been forceful enough. She replayed the scene over and over, scolding him from every possible angle. When that wasn't enough, she would punch and kick him in her imagination. Then, she would praise Chang Ying from head to toe. This state of mind lasted for about a week.
Until one night, Tan Junzi received a call. She initially thought it was from Qian Niu, as it was the same number Qian Niu had used to call her before they went to the amusement park.
So, as soon as she picked up, she shouted, “Qian Niu?”
There was silence on the other end. She said "hello" a few more times, thinking Qian Niu was playing a prank, until she said, “If you don't speak, I’m hanging up.”
The voice that finally spoke made her shiver. It was Qin Ke.
“It’s me, Qin Ke. This is my number.”
It sounded like he was outside; she could hear the whistling of the wind.
Tan Junzi’s first instinct was to hang up. As if anticipating this, Qin Ke spoke first. “Don't hang up. I want to apologize.”
Tan Junzi held the phone and remained silent. But she didn't hang up. Qin Ke gave a soft chuckle on the other end and continued, “You filled in your contact number when you signed up at the martial arts hall, so that’s how I have it. I didn't ask Yuan Guo for it.”
Tan Junzi didn't know why he was mentioning that, so she just gave a curt “Oh,” waiting to hear his apology. But Qin Ke didn't get straight to the point. Instead, he asked, “Why haven't you been to the hall the last few days?”
“Doing homework at home,” Tan Junzi replied, her tone stiff.
“...Is it because of me?” Qin Ke asked tentatively. Although his tone was humble, Tan Junzi felt he wasn't nearly as cautious as he was pretending to be.
“No, you’re overthinking it,” she denied flatly. Even though it was partially because of the haunted house incident, she didn't want to admit it. She felt Qin Ke was the type of person who would get smug about it, and she didn't want to give him that satisfaction.
“Alright.” Qin Ke’s tone remained unhurried. “Am I disturbing your rest?”
“...Didn't you say you were going to apologize?” Tan Junzi couldn't help but prompt him, her voice sharp. Why was he beating around the bush with these superficial pleasantries?
“Yes, you’re right.” Qin Ke fell silent for a moment before speaking directly. “I’m sorry, Tan Junzi.”
They waited for ten seconds. Tan Junzi asked, “That’s it?”
She heard what sounded like him taking a drag of a cigarette, as if he were mentally preparing himself. After another long silence, he finally spoke. “I apologize for my impulsiveness and recklessness... I shouldn't have used my physical advantage to intimidate you, said those strange things, or acted that way. I’m sorry, Tan Junzi.”
Tan Junzi had just finished washing her face, so she habitually sniffled. Qin Ke caught the sound and asked with a hint of urgent panic, “Are you crying?”
Tan Junzi didn't know why he’d ask that; she wasn't crying. She had heard his apology, but she didn't know what to say. It was awkward.
“Qin Ke,” she began hesitantly. “Do you... like me?”
He hadn't expected such a direct question, so he threw the ball back into her court. “What do you think?”
“If you’re asking me, I don't think you like me, but I can't figure out what you meant by 'impulsiveness.' Honestly, your attitude has always confused me. Sometimes I think you’re a very nice person, and other times I wonder if you actually hate me. What you did that day really made me angry and confused. So, regardless of everything, can you just give me a straight answer?”
Tan Junzi summoned all her courage to finish that long speech. She waited for a long time, but there was no response, only the howling of the north wind. She said "hello," and after a few seconds, Qin Ke’s voice reappeared.
“Sorry, the signal was bad just now. I’m out on the balcony. What did you just say?” Qin Ke’s voice was very low. Without giving her a chance to repeat herself, he added, “Actually, it’s getting late. You should get some rest.”
Tan Junzi felt like she had thrown a punch into a bale of cotton.
She felt a sense of melancholy because the question that had plagued her for a week remained unresolved, and he had been in such a hurry to end the conversation. Having spent all her momentum on that speech, she felt deflated. She nodded, then realized he couldn't see her, so she said, “Fine.”
Qin Ke chuckled. “Then... we’re still friends, right?”
That was a cunning question.
“I guess so.” Tan Junzi felt exhausted. Talking to Qin Ke was always like this—being led by the nose, going in circles. She hated being so passive.
“Then I’ll take that as your forgiveness. Goodnight.” Qin Ke’s tone was light, and he hung up before she could respond.
Tan Junzi lay in bed. Her bed was right next to the radiator. It got very dry at night, so she usually draped a damp towel over it. After the call, she felt strangely thirsty; the dry air in the room was starting to irritate her. She got up, took the half-dried towel to the bathroom, and soaked it with water again.
She was actually quite surprised that Qin Ke had called to apologize. His attitude—simultaneously sincere and nonchalant—was impossible to read. She had intended to ignore him from then on, but since he had apologized, refusing to acknowledge him would make her look petty. They were still classmates sitting right next to each other; they couldn't keep the relationship strained forever.
Standing before the sink, she let out a long sigh. *Forget it. Let it be.* But at the same time, she set a rule for herself: if he ever crossed the line even slightly again, she would cut him off completely. She would give him this one chance to turn over a new leaf.
*
On the other side of the call, Qin Ke sat on a small stool on his balcony, flicking cigarette ash into a withered flowerpot. The plant had been half-dead for a long time, and since it had become his ashtray, it had given up on life entirely.
He had heard everything Tan Junzi said. He’d heard it perfectly clearly. But he had faked a bad signal. It wasn't his usual style, but everything changed when it came to Tan Junzi.
He didn't give a straight answer because he didn't know how to answer.
When someone asks, "Do you like me?" and you answer "I don't know," it’s essentially the same as saying "I do."
How could he not know? "I don't know" really meant: *I like you, but I’m afraid that if I say it, we won't even be able to be friends anymore.*
He didn't want to say a definitive "I don't like you, you're overthinking it."
But he didn't want to say "I like you" either. He knew that once it was out in the open, Tan Junzi would give him a resounding rejection. He didn't want that little girl to have the upper hand. She was definitely the type who would rush in with a giant blade to sever the relationship and draw a clear line between them. The thought made Qin Ke feel a tightness in his chest.
Ultimately, every time he encountered Tan Junzi, he became irrational and childish. Sometimes he actually admired Chang Ying—how could he endure it so well? Chang Ying always managed to hold onto that elusive line, never crossing it, never making her uncomfortable. He was as gentle as a spring breeze, subtly influencing her. Such a cunning old soul at such a young age. Truly remarkable.
*
Tan Junzi and the others didn't go looking for Luo Zihan; he was the one who couldn't hold it in anymore. When school let out, he didn't rush to the basketball court. Instead, he sat in his seat, his legs shaking incessantly. As soon as he saw Tan Junzi finish packing her bag, he called out to her.
“Sister Tan.” That one call stopped not only Tan Junzi but also Qin Ruanshu and Chang Ying.
Chang Ying hooked his arm around Luo Zihan’s neck and hauled him out of the classroom. Tan Junzi and Qin Ruanshu followed close behind.
“You’ve got quite the poker face. We were betting on when you’d come to us,” Qin Ruanshu said with a smile.
Luo Zihan wasn't shorter than Chang Ying, but he didn't look tall because he was always slouching and was incredibly thin. Surrounded by the three of them, he looked a bit frightened. He felt they were far too shrewd, just waiting for him to take the bait.
“Quick, tell us. What happened to Zhang Da?” Tan Junzi urged. She found her backpack too heavy and dropped it onto the floor with a thud, giving Luo Zihan a start.
“Zhang Da... something happened at his house,” Luo Zihan murmured. “He told me not to tell anyone. Aside from me, only the homeroom teacher should know. But right now... how do I put this? I’m really worried about him. He’s in a terrifying state.”
“I didn't have any other choice, so I wanted to ask you guys for ideas. You’re all smarter than me...”
“What exactly happened?” Chang Ying leaned his arm against the wall, looking from a distance like he was pinning Luo Zihan against it. Luo Zihan shrunk his neck back again.
“Maybe we should go somewhere else. I’m hungry, and this isn't something I can explain in a couple of sentences. How about KFC? Let’s go to KFC.” Luo Zihan slowly backed out of their circle and shouldered his bag.
***
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