No. 1 Middle School and the Vocational High School were located on two adjacent streets. No. 1 Middle School was a prestigious key school, filled with students who were the "model children" in the eyes of parents and teachers from other schools.
The Vocational High School, on the other hand, was a melting pot of all sorts, housing students who were mostly the types to give their parents and teachers a massive headache.
Although the two schools were only a street apart, there was an unwritten rule at the Vocational High: do not look for trouble with students from No. 1 Middle.
The reason was simple. No. 1 Middle was one of the city's key schools. The students who could get in were either genuine top scholars or came from families with "mines"—wealthy backgrounds. Regardless of which type they were, they were not people to be trifled with.
Today, the owner of the bookstore at the entrance of No. 1 Middle had family business to attend to. After posting a notice, the shop had closed early. Lin Murun stood at the shop entrance, holding the book list his homeroom teacher had given him. After a moment of thought, he decided to take a detour to a small bookstore a street away to try his luck.
That bookstore was near the Vocational High and close to a bus stop. To get from Uncle Lin’s house to No. 1 Middle, one would inevitably pass this stop.
Braving the rain to cross the street, he found the bookstore still open. He stepped inside and saw a boy in a Vocational High uniform slumped over the checkout counter. The boy's hair was dyed a withered yellow and was a tangled mess, looking like the sponge accidentally exposed from an old sofa cushion.
Lin Murun searched through the shelves and found most of the books on his list, but he couldn't find a specific set of English mock exams and a math exercise book.
He looked up and walked toward the counter.
"Hello, excuse me..."
"Hmm?" The person slumped on the counter straightened up groggily and let out a yawn. "Buying books?"
"Yes. Could you tell me where these two books are?"
The yellow-haired boy rubbed his eyes, took the list, and thought for a moment before standing up to rummage through the warehouse.
"Buying so many exercises? Can you even finish them all?" His sleepy voice drifted out from the warehouse.
"I can," Lin Murun replied.
The yellow-haired boy found the math book among the new arrivals and handed it over. "Only found this one. That English exam set probably won't arrive for another two days. If you're in a hurry, you could check the bookstore at the No. 1 Middle entrance."
"Thank you," Lin Murun said as he took the exercise book. "I came from No. 1 Middle. The owner closed early for some business."
"Oh." The yellow-haired boy sat back at the counter and signaled for Lin Murun to hand over the books he was holding. "You're a student at No. 1 Middle?"
"Yes."
The yellow-haired boy looked up at him.
The boy before him wore a pair of metal-framed glasses. His eyes were as clean and beautiful as if he were wearing amber-tinted contacts. His neck and cheeks possessed a cold, pale complexion, and his features were exceptionally refined. He had a cool, detached aura about him, like snow resting upon a pine tree.
"Then why aren't you wearing your uniform? I remember No. 1 Middle requires it every day." The yellow-haired boy noticed that when the student lowered his eyelids, the lashes hidden behind the lenses were long and thick. Upon closer inspection, the shape of his eyes was incredibly beautiful. Using his limited vocabulary, the boy barely managed to come up with the term "peach blossom eyes."
"I just transferred here. The uniform won't be issued until next week," Lin Murun answered.
"Oh, I see." The boy took the money and handed the books to Lin Murun.
At that moment, a bolt of lightning streaked across the night sky, followed by the faint rumble of thunder in the distance.
"Classmate, did you bring an umbrella?" The yellow-haired boy noticed the moisture on the tips of Lin Murun's hair.
"No." He tucked the books into his empty backpack.
"Then use my uniform to cover your head on the way back." The boy handed his Vocational High jacket to Lin Murun. "We don't have umbrellas here either. If you put this over your head, it'll at least block some of the rain."
Lin Murun was stunned.
"If you're going to be picky, then forget it. I'm just making a kind suggestion. I heard your schoolwork is heavy; if you get sick from the rain, wouldn't you fall behind?" The yellow-haired boy shrugged.
"What about you?" Lin Murun asked, taking the uniform.
"Me? My parents own this shop. I live in the warehouse, so it doesn't matter."
"But your uniform..."
"It's fine, just take it. You can return it in a couple of days when you come for the English exams. It's not like it matters whether we wear them at our school anyway."
Lin Murun didn't respond.
"Don't feel burdened, top scholar." The yellow-haired boy sat down and turned on a desktop computer. "My parents' dream was for me to be a student at No. 1 Middle. Years ago, when they heard No. 1 Middle was choosing a new site, they opened a bookstore here. Who knew this spot would become the Vocational High instead, and No. 1 Middle would be built on the next street over?" He said nonchalantly, "We rarely see No. 1 Middle students around here. Just consider this me doing a good deed to earn some karma."
Since he had put it that way, refusing would seem pretentious. Lin Murun reached out, took the uniform, and thanked him. "I'll wash it and return it to you."
"No problem, whenever." The yellow-haired boy clicked on a game booster, logged into his account, and started playing.
Unexpectedly, this single uniform brought trouble to Lin Murun. Not long after leaving the bookstore, he was blocked by several Vocational High students reeking of alcohol.
"Hey brother, want some late-night snacks?" A Vocational High student holding a beer bottle sized Lin Murun up.
"That barbecue stall over there, see it? The taste is top-tier. How about paying for us brothers?" Another tall guy with a buzz cut draped an arm around Lin Murun's shoulder from behind, acting like they were best friends.
Lin Murun calmly moved away and said flatly, "Please let me through. I need to get back to school."
"Don't be like that. Going back so early? How boring."
"Exactly. Asking you to eat with us is giving you face, classmate."
They surrounded Lin Murun, snickering.
"You look like a new face. How about I tell you the rules of our school?"
Lin Murun lowered his lashes and did not reply.
"In our school, the seniors are the bosses..."
"Sorry, I am not a student of the Vocational High." Lin Murun lowered the uniform from his head.
The group looked at each other and burst into laughter. "Look at what's in your hand. Isn't that our school's uniform?"
A Vocational High student with a tattoo on his arm laughed loudly. "What's the matter? Drunk before you even started drinking? You're dreaming. Wearing a Vocational High uniform and thinking you're a No. 1 Middle student?"
The group swayed and laughed. The barbecue stall owner was busy clearing scraps from the tables and didn't look up, seemingly accustomed to such scenes.
"I am a student of No. 1 Middle," Lin Murun said calmly. "Please move aside. I need to return to school."
"You just don't want to pay, so just say it. Who are you trying to fool?" The buzz-cut guy cursed and gave him a shove.
The uniform in Lin Murun's hand fell to the ground, soaked in the dirty water on the pavement. His expression shifted slightly. He took off his glasses and was about to say something when he was interrupted by a sudden male voice.
"Our school's curfew is almost here. If you don't have enough for the barbecue, I can pay for you." A black umbrella was held over Lin Murun's head. The newcomer's voice was low and magnetic, carrying a faint scent of tobacco.
The small-time thugs saw the tall boy wearing a No. 1 Middle uniform. They looked at each other, momentarily stunned.
Lin Murun bent down to pick up the uniform, which was now saturated with dirty water, and looked back at the stranger who had suddenly appeared.
The person's hair was a bit long, his features were deep and well-defined, and his nose was straight and high. A pair of dark eyes were slightly lowered, half-hidden in the shadows cast by his brow bone.
"I recall you people never make things difficult for No. 1 Middle students." His voice was low and pleasant, carrying a hint of casual laziness, much like his gaze.
"Are you... Bin-ge?" The buzz-cut guy carefully scrutinized the tall boy's face.
The boy didn't respond.
"It really is Bin-ge!" The buzz-cut guy started to smile.
"Who are you?" The boy tilted the umbrella back slightly, raising an eyebrow at the buzz-cut guy.
"Oh, oh, forgot to introduce myself! I'm Li Qi, Li Wei's cousin. You remember Li Wei, right, Bin-ge? For his birthday last month, he even invited you to sing karaoke." Li Qi reminded him in a low voice, but the person before him showed no reaction. He looked left and right at his drunken companions, slapped his own forehead, and apologized to Lin Murun. "Sorry about that, classmate. You see, we've had a bit too much to drink and didn't recognize you as a No. 1 Middle student. One look at you and anyone can tell you're definitely a good student."
The friends beside Li Qi exchanged glances and also began apologizing to Lin Murun. The boy with the tattoo took the opportunity to steal a few glances at Si Bin.
Li Qi said with a placating smile, "Have you two eaten? Why not sit down and have some skewers? It's all a misunderstanding. We can... what's the phrase... oh, turn weapons into silk—make peace! Bin-ge, what do you want to eat? It's on us!"
"No thanks, you guys enjoy." Without waiting for a reply from the thugs, the boy called "Bin-ge" turned to Lin Murun and said, "Let's go."
"Qi-ge, do you know that guy?" Once the two had walked away, the tattooed boy asked quietly. "What's his background? Even if he's from No. 1 Middle, there's no need to treat him like that. He didn't give you any face at all!"
Li Qi looked up and beckoned the tattooed boy closer. "See that new building our school just put up?"
"Yeah." The tattooed boy looked back, puzzled. "What does that have to do with this Bin-ge? Don't tell me his family donated the new teaching building?"
Li Qi grinned. "You're a smart kid. Bin-ge's family donated it. And not just our school's building—even that new building at No. 1 Middle was donated by them."
The thugs looked at each other, not daring to make another sound.
The red light signaled at the crosswalk. Lin Murun stopped, maintaining a polite distance from Si Bin.
"Thank you for helping me out," he said to Si Bin.
Si Bin glanced back at him. "You're welcome. Remember to wear your uniform next time you go out. Don't hang around the Vocational High entrance this late."
Lin Murun nodded. "Okay."
The uniform in his hand was soaked with dirty water and could no longer be used as a cover, but Si Bin showed no intention of sharing his umbrella. Lin Murun turned and draped the uniform over his backpack to keep the rain from soaking his books.
"Which class are you in? I don't think I've ever seen you." Si Bin tilted the umbrella slightly toward Lin Murun, signaling for him to come under it.
"Class 2, Grade 11, Liberal Arts." After saying this, Lin Murun added, "I'm a transfer student." As he drew closer to Si Bin, he again smelled that faint, damp scent of tobacco.
Si Bin looked him over for a moment, then withdrew his gaze and nodded.
By the time they reached the school gate, it was already closed. The security booth was still lit. Si Bin stepped forward and knocked on the back door of the booth.
"Why are you only getting back now? Which class are you from? You'll get a disciplinary notice for returning past the deadline!" The security guard grumbled as he opened the door, but he froze upon seeing Si Bin's face.
"Sorry, Uncle Wang. We went to buy books and got delayed by the rain," Si Bin explained.
"It's fine, it's fine." Uncle Wang's Mandarin carried a regional accent. As he pushed open the small side gate, he said, "Just remember to come back earlier next time. It's so late and raining so hard; it's not safe."
"Thanks, Uncle Wang." Si Bin, however, showed no intention of entering the school. He said to Lin Murun, "Go back to the dorm as soon as possible."
Lin Murun looked up and asked, "Aren't you coming in?"
"I'm a day student," Si Bin replied. "I live nearby in Jingshan Garden."
Jingshan Garden was a high-end residential area near No. 1 Middle. Because it was close to a key school and had a great environment, the property prices were staggeringly high. Many well-off parents owned apartments there, and because the school dorms had a lights-out policy, many students chose to rent together in Jingshan Garden so they could study late into the night.
Lin Murun nodded. "Thank you. Get home safely."
Si Bin waved a hand at him and turned to leave.
He was tall, and though he seemed somewhat lazy, he lacked the slouching habit common among boys his age. Even the plain blue-and-white school uniform couldn't hide his natural temperament. The streetlights stretched his shadow long. In the rainy night of this southern city, he carried that large black umbrella—the kind usually seen only in Japanese films—and disappeared around the corner.
