Liberated at last.
Qiu Yun stood up from her seat the moment she could, stretching her neck and letting out a long, deep yawn. Just as she was in the middle of it, Liang He walked over.
She had no choice but to greet him. "Hello, Teacher."
Liang He nodded, watching her twist her body with exaggerated movements. "When did you start working as a model?"
"Right at the start of the semester. You weren't here, Teacher, so I’ve been doing it for over a month already."
"Oh? How does it feel?"
"Reporting to Teacher: it feels alright. It’s work-study. Even though I can’t move, I just treat it like a game of 'statue.'"
Liang He smiled. "What’s this? I’ve only been gone for a month, and you’ve already forgotten my surname?"
Without thinking, Qiu Yun shot back, "Well, you kept calling me 'Model Student' just now. I didn't hold it against you for forgetting my name."
Liang He let out a laugh. "You certainly know how to hold a grudge. Model Student, Qiu Xiaoyun."
"Only occasionally, Teacher Liang." Qiu Yun picked up her bag from the table and asked, "I’m heading back to the dorms. Are you leaving, Teacher Liang?"
"I’m going back to the office."
As the two stepped out of the classroom, they ran into Qiu Yun’s class monitor, Gao Zhifei.
He looked surprised to see Liang He. "Teacher Liang, you’re back?"
"I arrived yesterday afternoon." He patted Gao Zhifei on the shoulder. "How is it? Is everything going well with the class?"
"Wonderfully," Gao Zhifei said enthusiastically. "We’ve just been waiting for you to come back and inspect us. Oh, right, let me give you a report. Three students from our class applied for work-study this semester. You’ve probably seen Qiu Xiaoyun; I helped her apply to be a sketch model for the preparatory class."
"Oh? And the other two?"
"The other two are Chen Chong and Zhang Xu. They’re both guys, so I helped them apply for cleaning duties."
"Cleaning where?"
"Just the offices, and occasionally moving books in the library." Gao Zhifei, always talkative, prattled on. "I arranged for the boys to do all the dirty and heavy work. Among the girls, only Qiu Yun applied. I thought being a model suited her well—no manual labor, she just has to sit there. Plus, her features are quite striking, so when everyone draws her, it’s..." Gao Zhifei thought for a moment. "It should be quite easy to capture..."
"Student Gao," Qiu Yun couldn't help but interrupt, "sitting there perfectly still as a model is also very exhausting. You should try it; it’s worse than cleaning."
"You want to do cleaning?" Liang He asked.
"...Huh?"
"Then after this session is over, you can swap with Chen Chong. You go do the cleaning, and he can be the model," Liang He said. "It’ll be good to have a male model for a change. Chen Chong’s features are quite chiseled and representative."
Qiu Yun: "Uh..."
Gao Zhifei: "This..."
Liang He smiled. "What’s wrong?"
The two of them thought about it and realized they couldn't find anything technically wrong with the suggestion.
The paths to the dormitory and the office overlapped for a while. On the way, the three of them chatted about Liang He’s exchange program in X City. Gao Zhifei bid them farewell at the library along the way, and when they reached the front of the girls' dormitory, Qiu Yun also said goodbye to Liang He. But just as she headed upstairs, she remembered the gloves. She grabbed them and sprinted back down, catching up to Liang He near the small woods by the Third Teaching Building.
"Teacher Liang," Qiu Yun panted, out of breath. "Wait a moment."
"What is it?" Liang He stopped in his tracks.
"That..." Qiu Yun suddenly felt stuck. Looking into Liang He’s eyes, her brain seemed to short-circuit with a *thud*... What was she supposed to do? Oh... right, return the gloves. "That..." She became inexplicably bashful.
"?" Liang He looked at her, his expression a silent question mark.
"Ah... it’s just... Ha!" Qiu Yun let out a wide grin to ease her nerves, trying her best to look relaxed and natural. She didn't know what was wrong with her. A simple "Thank you for the gloves, here they are back" would have solved everything, but she refused to use it. Instead, on a whim, she took a roundabout, subtle, yet humorous approach. "Teacher Liang, try to recall. Back during the winter break, did you leave something with me?"
Liang He was baffled by her behavior, but he patiently played along. "...Hm?"
"Do you remember? Winter break?" Qiu Yun prompted him.
"Winter break?..." Liang He repeated. Qiu Yun wasn't sure if it was an illusion, but Liang He had been wearing a slight smile, yet the moment he finished that sentence, his expression went completely blank.
"That’s right!" Qiu Yun impatiently pulled the gloves she had bought long ago out of her bag. Like someone presenting a trophy, she held them out to Liang He. "Thank you for your gloves! I wanted to return them as soon as school started, but unfortunately, you were away for your studies. Today, they are finally returned to their rightful owner!"
Qiu Yun only told half the story. she looked at Liang He with sparkling eyes, waiting for him to take the gloves, waiting for him to realize they were different from his old ones, waiting for him to ask "Why aren't these the same pair?" Then she could tell him the other half: that she had accidentally lost them and bought him a better pair!
But Liang He only lowered his eyelids, showing no intention of taking them.
Qiu Yun blinked, gesturing to him: *Take them.*
Liang He frowned.
A light breeze swirled dead leaves across the ground; the atmosphere was a bit chilly.
Now Qiu Yun was certain—that feeling from before wasn't an illusion. Liang He wasn't as happy as she had imagined. Was he blaming her for returning them too late, or was he unhappy that she had lost them? He couldn't be that petty, could he? Hadn't she bought him new ones?
Just as Qiu Yun was completely bewildered, Liang He finally spoke.
"What do you mean by this?"
Qiu Yun looked confused. "What do you mean, 'what do I mean'?"
Liang He’s expression was as foul as a pair of socks that hadn't been washed after days of playing soccer. He stared at Qiu Yun as if he had a lot to say.
Qiu Yun: "Huh?"
Liang He: "Well?"
Qiu Yun couldn't understand it. Liang He’s face was like a child's, changing faster than the weather. What kind of riddle were they playing?
Liang He: "Do you have nothing else to say to me?"
Qiu Yun’s eyes widened, feeling inexplicably wronged. "I even spent a fortune—eight yuan and eighty cents—to buy you a new pair..."
Hearing this, a flash of surprise and doubt crossed Liang He’s eyes. "Why did you buy new ones?"
"Didn't I lose them?"
"Lose them?"
"Yeah."
"Then what are these?" As Liang He spoke, he pulled a pair of black gloves out of his bag.
"Ah? They were with you all along?" Qiu Yun felt a pang in her chest, like a heavy stone had been smashed against it. "Why didn't you say so earlier... I... I even bought you a new pair... eight yuan and eighty cents! Hey, wait, it’s so warm now and you’re still carrying gloves around? Is your constitution that weak?..."
"Student Qiu Yun," Liang He pressed a hand to his forehead, "is that your main concern? I came back yesterday and forgot to take them out of my bag."
"Then what happened with these gloves?"
Liang He hesitated for a moment before finally asking, "Didn't you have Lu Xialan return them to me?"
"Lu Xialan?" This name appeared so abruptly that Qiu Yun was caught off guard.
"That day at McDonald's, I was afraid you’d be embarrassed, so I left first with my friends. Later, Xialan gave me these gloves and said you were returning them to me. Also, I had her give you my pager number so you could leave me a message, but you never contacted me again." In fact, he had come to the school later, but Qiu Yun wasn't there; he had gone to No. 89 Phoenix Street, but no one was home—little did he know that at the time, Qiu Yun was injured and lying in Wang Chen’s house, eating and drinking her fill, living a life of leisure.
"I didn't..." Qiu Yun explained hurriedly. "After I came out of the restroom at McDonald's that day, I rode my bike back to school, accidentally fell into a big pit, and then I was recovering at Wang Chen’s place. I thought I had lost your gloves, which is why I bought new ones. And," Qiu Yun stared at Liang He, speaking with absolute certainty, "I didn't know you had a pager. Lu Xialan never gave me the number."
At this point, the same realization flashed in both of their eyes.
"Teacher Liang..." Qiu Yun’s heart began to thrum again. That sentence kept bubbling up, urging her, *Say it, say it...* If not now, when? She decided to stop hesitating and said, "There’s something I—"
"I understand." Liang He raised a hand to interrupt her. "I’ll ask Lu Xialan about it. There must be some misunderstanding. Also, this," Liang He took a pen and notebook from his bag, scribbled a string of numbers, tore the paper off, and handed it to Qiu Yun. "This is my pager number. Contact me anytime if something comes up."
Qiu Yun’s sentence was cut off halfway, so she had to swallow it back down. She took the slip of paper and replied somewhat sourly, "Oh." She thought to herself: *Ask her? Asking her will be as useless as asking a wall.*
"So... is your stomach feeling better now? You fell again on your way back that day—was it serious?" Liang He asked.
Qiu Yun had been a bit unhappy, but hearing this made her want to laugh. "Teacher Liang, your reaction time is way too slow. School has been in session for over a month. If I were still in trouble, would I be standing here in front of you like this?"
Liang He realized his question was a bit foolish and let out a small laugh.
Qiu Yun’s internal assessment: *What a silly laugh.*
"Then... these gloves," Liang He cleared his throat and said, "Look... you can keep them for yourself..."
"How about this," Qiu Yun had a sudden spark of inspiration and stuffed the pair in her hand into Liang He’s. "I’ve already bought them, so let’s just make an exchange. The new ones for you, the old ones for me. Treat it as a thank-you for lending them to me." Without waiting for Liang He’s consent, she snatched the old gloves from his hand and tucked them into her bag.
Liang He looked at her, offering no objection at all, and slowly smiled. "Alright. Then I won't be polite."
Qiu Yun’s internal assessment: *He’s laughing even sillier now.*
***
