The fourth period in the afternoon was music class. When Lin Murun and Li Menglai arrived at the music building, the sound of poetry recitation drifted from the classroom next door. Li Menglai peeked inside and said, "It’s the students from Arts Class One."
"You must come from that warm, fragrant South; tell me of the moonlight there, and the sunlight there."
Lin Murun heard Si Bin’s voice. He stood by the window and looked inside.
This music classroom was larger than a standard practice room; it was where the arts students held their lessons. A piano sat on the podium, and individual chairs were arranged below. A balmy breeze billowed through the pale curtains, filling the room with the scent of osmanthus.
Dressed in his blue-and-white school uniform, Si Bin stood with his back to the window, looking down at the script in his hands.
The golden light of the setting sun flowed over the boy’s slightly long bangs. His eyes were cast down, casting faint shadows beneath his raven-wing lashes.
Yu Wenbo spotted Lin Murun and Li Menglai passing by and waved at them with a smile. He then trotted over to Si Bin’s side and whispered something. Si Bin turned around, his gaze meeting Lin Murun’s.
Si Bin’s pupils were dark, and as the sunset hit his eyes, they seemed to dissolve into a misty glow.
"Hi, Lin," he greeted Lin Murun with a smile. "Going to practice?"
Lin Murun nodded. "Yes. And you? How is your practice going?"
"It’s alright. There aren't many lines to memorize." Si Bin stood up.
The preparatory bell rang, and students scheduled for rehearsals began hurrying into the music building one after another.
"We’ll head out first then. See you later," Lin Murun said.
"Okay," Si Bin replied.
As they turned away, Lin Murun met Li Menglai’s searching gaze.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Nothing." Li Menglai shook her head, but after a few steps, she couldn't help but speak. "Si Bin... he..."
"Yes?" Lin Murun stopped in his tracks.
Li Menglai didn't finish her sentence. She stood frozen for a moment, opening her mouth several times as if to speak, but ultimately remained silent.
"Let’s go." After a long pause, Li Menglai turned and walked ahead. Her back looked stiff, and her pace was hurried; she vanished around the end of the hallway in the blink of an eye.
After evening self-study ended that day, Lin Murun took his violin to the music shop.
Since Si Bin was back home, it didn't feel appropriate to disturb him there again.
Boss Yuan, the shop owner, hadn't left for the night yet. Seeing someone come in to practice, he called Lin Murun over for a chat.
"How is your piece coming along?" Boss Yuan asked with a smile.
"It’s going well," Lin Murun replied.
"That’s good. Last time I told your uncle that your violin playing is so excellent, it would be a shame if you didn't perform on stage." Boss Yuan set down his book and gestured for him to sit.
"You’ve been busy lately, haven't you?" he said. "Studying, preparing for the Arts Festival, and coming to the shop on weekends to help with the students."
"It’s fine," Lin Murun replied. "It’s very fulfilling."
Boss Yuan smiled. "I like your personality—quiet, but willing to work hard."
As he spoke, he took out a small teacup, rinsed it with boiling water, and poured a cup for Lin Murun. "Will drinking tea this late affect your sleep?"
"No," Lin Murun said, taking the tea. "Thank you."
The tea was this year’s fresh Tieguanyin; its fragrance was rich, and it glowed with a verdant hue against the white porcelain.
"It’s like this," Boss Yuan said, finally getting to the point after some small talk.
"High school is busy, and I really shouldn't have asked you to substitute once the semester started." He poured a cup for himself. "But as you know, our shop has struggled to find a suitable teacher, so I had to trouble you to work part-time on weekends."
"A few days ago, a violin teacher happened to apply here. This teacher has extensive teaching experience and is looking for full-time work, so..." Boss Yuan’s smile carried a hint of apology. "From now on, you can focus on your studies without being distracted by the shop."
The tea’s fragrance and a light astringency spread across his tongue. Lin Murun set down the cup and nodded. "Alright."
"Of course, if you ever need to practice, you’re welcome here anytime. We all like you very much." Seeing how readily he agreed, Boss Yuan said briskly, "I’ll settle your wages next week."
After a few more words, Boss Yuan headed home, satisfied.
Following his usual routine, Lin Murun practiced in the second-floor recital hall before returning to the dormitory just before curfew.
His roommate, Cheng Song, was working hard to memorize song lyrics. His singing was a stumbling mess of fluctuating pitches.
"The scholar is back?" Cheng Song saw the violin case in Lin Murun’s hand. "Went to practice?"
"Mhm." Lin Murun put the violin away in his locker.
"Our class is putting on a play, and they’re insisting that a background extra like me sing a few lines of an English song." Cheng Song scratched his head. "Does it sound really bad?"
Lin Murun tilted his head, choosing his words carefully. "You could try practicing along with the original track a few more times."
"Right! I’ll go practice in the bathroom." He grabbed his phone and ducked into the washroom, shutting the door.
Lin Murun took out his phone and realized Si Bin had sent him a WeChat message over half an hour ago.
Si Bin: "Are you still coming over to practice today?"
Lin Murun set down his backpack and replied: "I’m not coming. Thank you for these past few days."
"Okay." The reply came back almost instantly, but after that single word, there was no further movement.
As Cheng Song wailed like a ghost in the bathroom, Lin Murun put on his earphones and started solving problems. Several times during his study session, the phone screen lit up, and he would sharply lift his head to check the sender’s name.
"Scholar, you’re not in the right headspace today!" Having finished his singing, Cheng Song had taken a shower and walked over, dripping with steam.
"Usually, you don't even look at your phone when you're working. Why is your attention so glued to it today?" he asked.
Lin Murun blinked. "Have I been looking at it that much?"
"Not exactly," Cheng Song replied. "But from the time I finished my shower to when I dried my hair, you’ve checked it several times."
He then wore an expression of sudden realization. "Oh! I get it. You’re chatting with someone, right? You’re waiting for her to reply!"
"I’m not," Lin Murun answered.
"Tsk..." Cheng Song clicked his tongue. "Then why are you so easily distracted today?"
The screen lit up again. Lin Murun unlocked it immediately, only to find it was a program schedule sent by Li Menglai. Cheng Song leaned over to look, scratching his head. "Oh, so you guys are discussing tomorrow’s performance? I thought..."
"Thought what?" Lin Murun asked while replying to the message.
"I thought you were in love," Cheng Song said.
Lin Murun’s hand paused over the screen. "Is waiting for a message the same as being in love?"
"It’s not necessarily an equal sign..." Cheng Song thought for a moment. "But when you start becoming sensitive to someone’s name, and you start waiting for them to text you... isn't that because you have expectations in your heart?"
*Expectations for Si Bin?*
Lin Murun was stunned.
Rather than expectations, it was more like a habit. He had grown accustomed to Si Bin’s almost nightly "goodnight, sleep early" messages and his constant help. But over the last few days, the frequency of Si Bin’s messages had clearly decreased.
He opened his chat history with Si Bin.
A week ago, Si Bin would still send photos of Little White and share updates on the kitten's growth. Lately, however, he seemed to have become taciturn.
Lin Murun scrolled through their records, his eyes coming to rest on that cold, solitary "Okay."
Si Bin had almost never sent him a single-word message before.
It looked indifferent, and it made Lin Murun feel uneasy.
Seeing Lin Murun lost in thought, Cheng Song didn't say anything more. He let out a yawn and climbed into bed. "I’m going to listen to some music. You should go shower, Scholar. You have a performance tomorrow; don't stay up late."
"Okay." Lin Murun hesitated for a moment before putting down his phone and turning off his desk lamp.
"Goodnight, Scholar." Cheng Song’s voice came from the top bunk.
"Goodnight."
Lin Murun glanced at the phone on the desk, feeling his own state of mind was quite inexplicable.
He took a quick shower. Not knowing if Cheng Song was asleep yet, he took his keys and went to the communal washroom to blow-dry his hair.
It was past eleven o'clock, but because of the sophomore program screenings the next day, the entire dormitory building was incredibly lively. As Lin Murun passed Room 304, he could hear the sound of a guitar coming from inside.
An adolescent boy, his voice thick with the characteristic rasp of puberty, was singing a love song to the cheers and jeers of his roommates.
"You’ve got some skills! Which girl are you planning to perform that for?"
The boy laughed, strummed a chord, and sang, "This world is too dangerous; only music is safe."
"Eww—" his roommates laughed. "Keep pretending! Everyone knows you like Li Menglai from Arts Class Two."
Lin Murun stepped into his room, shutting the door on the noise and those budding, restless emotions.
He picked up his phone and unlocked it. The screen was still on his conversation with Si Bin.
As expected, there were no new messages.
He stared at that "Okay" for a long time before finally opening the 9-key input method.
"Goodnight."
"Goodnight," Si Bin replied almost instantly. A moment later, another message popped up: "You have a performance tomorrow. Sleep early. Good luck."
For some reason, the heart that had been hanging in suspense finally settled back into place.
"Mhm, you too."
***
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