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Lin Zhan arrived home in the evening.
The living room lights were blazing, and the crystal chandelier hung low, refracting countless layers of light that dazzled the eyes.
Jiang Wan sat at the dining table: “You’re back?”
Lin Zhan nodded: “Mm.”
Her voice was bland, her face expressionless.
Lin Zhengping sat on the sofa. Seeing her return, he irritably picked up the remote to switch channels: “Let’s eat first.”
“I’ve already eaten,” Lin Zhan said. “I’m going to my room.”
A single sentence from Lin Zhengping pinned her in place.
“I heard the results of the art exhibition came out. How did you do?”
Lin Zhan stood there, not turning around, her back facing Lin Zhengping: “Don’t you already know?”
Jiang Wan: “Don’t talk to your father with your back turned.”
Lin Zhan ignored her.
Lin Zhengping: “What did I say? Are you getting arrogant? You used to win first place in Jin Hui…”
“I’m not,” Lin Zhan ground out between clenched teeth. “How many times do I have to say it—it’s not that I didn’t perform well; it’s just arrogance to you.”
“Not true. Every time I speak, you don’t listen! Would I ever harm you?” Lin Zhengping stood up. “I’ve seen so many students; I know exactly how you teenagers behave during puberty!”
Lin Zhan didn’t want to argue further: “Do whatever you want.”
“How can you always be so rebellious? Can’t you listen when your dad says something?” Lin Zhengping spoke solemnly. “Lin Zhan, don’t think you’re invincible just because you have some talent. Your painting skills are only average in this city—that’s unacceptable!”
“What more do you want from me?” Lin Zhan turned around and asked him. “I’ve already done my best. You keep telling me it’s never enough. This is my limit—I can only go this far.”
Lin Zhengping retorted angrily: “How could this possibly be your limit? You’re just unwilling to put in the effort! There’s another painting competition next month—it’s highly prestigious. Our school only secured one spot, and I’ve decided you’ll participate.”
Lin Zhan turned to look at him: “Am I unwilling to put in the effort? Inspiration matters in painting, doesn’t it? After the last Jin Hui competition, I was sick for a week—fever and cold. Do you even know how much pressure I was under? I couldn’t sleep for nights before the competition! And now you want to arrange another one for me? Fine then—go compete yourself!”
Lin Zhengping lunged toward her, but Jiang Wan intervened.
Jiang Wan: “Lin Zhan, quickly go inside and do your homework.”
Lin Zhan twisted open the door to her room, went in, and locked it behind her.
How had it come to this? When had Lin Zhengping’s expectations of her become an insatiable abyss?
Their family had once been harmonious, devoid of arguments, and her personality had been relatively cheerful.
But since high school began, Lin Zhengping had gone mad, constantly pushing her to charge forward without rest. He demanded first place in competitions and perfection in painting—everything had to be the best. In his eyes, everything seemed easy; all he needed to do was criticize her daily.
This was Lin Zhengping’s method of parenting.
He believed he was right, and if Lin Zhan didn’t listen, it was because she was rebellious.
Since high school, not once had Lin Zhengping praised her after she won an award. Instead, she became increasingly anxious, fearing she wouldn’t perform better next time. Then Lin Zhengping would say—”Lin Zhan, you’re too arrogant.”
Thankfully, Jiang Wan had always been gentle with her, often comforting her after their arguments and helping her understand Lin Zhengping.
She didn’t want painting to become something she hated, so every time she left the house, she forced herself to stop thinking about these irrelevant things and return to her carefree self.
But every time she returned home, she had no choice but to face these thorny issues again.
Unlike Shen Xi, who slept soundly through the night, Lin Zhan only managed two hours of sleep this time.
The thought of Lin Zhengping possibly pushing her into another competition gave her a headache.
Her mental resilience had never been strong, and with the added pressure, she’d suffer insomnia the night before any major exam or competition. If the stakes were particularly high, she’d start losing sleep days in advance.
Each time, the most prestigious competitions only granted Chonggao a single spot. Lin Zhengping giving it to her meant many others couldn’t participate.
Those students and their teachers kept a close eye on her.
Because of her outstanding abilities, countless pairs of eyes watched her in secret.
The slightest mistake, and Lin Zhan would become the subject of their idle gossip.
Talent had given her immense convenience, making her appear as a genius in the eyes of others, but it had also burdened her with equal weight.
It gave her glory, but it also gave her the white cloth.
Everything in this world was fair.
She suddenly wanted to ask Shen Xi—the calm and composed Shen Xi who had attracted her from the start—how could he remain so composed in the face of adversity?
She found it hard to achieve such calmness.
When she arrived at school, Zheng Yi Mian noticed her distracted state and asked sympathetically: “Zhan Zhan, did you have another bout of insomnia?”
She nodded in response.
Zheng Yi Mian: “Stop overthinking things, or you really won’t sleep well. Did you buy those sleeping aids I suggested?”
Lin Zhan: “I bought them, but they didn’t work.”
Just before morning self-study began, someone called out at the door.
“Lin Zhan, someone’s here for you!”
Zheng Yi Mian nudged Lin Zhan, who was resting her head on the desk: “Zhan Zhan, Shen Xi is here…”
Lin Zhan replied weakly: “What does he want? Is it about the whistle?”
Zheng Yi Mian: “Seems like it…”
She truly didn’t have the energy to stand up, not even the excitement of Shen Xi’s arrival could move her.
Lin Zhan sighed: “Then go get it for me—I really don’t feel well.”
Zheng Yi Mian was a bit surprised but, considering Lin Zhan’s condition, patted her back.
“Mm, rest well. I’ll go get it for you.”
///
Seeing Zheng Yi Mian rise, Shen Xi instinctively furrowed his brow.
Zheng Yi Mian approached him and explained: “Sorry, Zhan Zhan isn’t feeling well and can’t come to take your item. Let me help her fetch it.”
Though she said this, Shen Xi didn’t hand over the whistle.
He asked: “What’s wrong with her? Stomachache?”
“No,” Zheng Yi Mian shook her head. “She had insomnia last night. Whenever she doesn’t sleep well, she has no energy.”
Shen Xi glanced over, seeing Lin Zhan resting her head on the desk, only her round head visible.
Every time he saw her, she had always been lively and energetic. Seeing her so dispirited now made him momentarily lost in thought.
She looked genuinely uncomfortable.
“I’ll come back to give it to her in the afternoon.”
With that, Shen Xi hurriedly left.
///
Hearing Zheng Yi Mian return, Lin Zhan weakly extended her hand: “Where’s the whistle?”
Perhaps touching the whistle Shen Xi gave her would instantly revive her.
…Though unlikely.
Zheng Yi Mian shrugged: “He said he’ll come back in the afternoon.”
Lin Zhan’s mind struggled to process this: “What?”
Zheng Yi Mian: “Maybe he wants to deliver it personally.”
“Impossible,” Lin Zhan said. “He’s not that kind of person.”
“Is he planning to mock my dark circles to my face?”
Zheng Yi Mian: “...”
“Does he have that much free time?”
///
For the entire morning, Lin Zhan forced herself to focus on the lessons, but as soon as class ended, she collapsed onto the desk to catch up on sleep.
But it was hard to sleep peacefully.
In a daze, she heard Zheng Yi Mian being called out by Zhang Ze.
It felt like she had just closed her eyes when Zheng Yi Mian returned.
Lin Zhan remained in her original position, head on the desk, eyes tightly shut, yet entirely awake.
“Did Zhang Ze let you come back so quickly?”
“Sleep if you’re tired.”
It was Shen Xi’s voice.
Lin Zhan thought she must be dreaming, so she quickly rubbed her eyes and opened them.
There was Shen Xi’s face, pleasing to the eye even from an upward angle.
“Why are you here?” Lin Zhan tried to sit up but was gently pushed back down by him.
“You have such dark circles. Sleep properly.”
See! He really had come to laugh at her dark circles!
Pillowing her head on her arms, Lin Zhan said: “I want to sleep, I’m very tired, but I can’t fall asleep.”
Perhaps finding it exhausting to talk like this, Shen Xi sat in Zheng Yi Mian’s seat.
“Don’t keep opening your eyes. Close them.”
Lin Zhan closed her eyes, though a small part of her felt restless.
“With my eyes closed, what are you planning to do?”
Shen Xi: “...”
After trying to sleep for a while, Lin Zhan couldn’t resist speaking again: “My eyes really won’t open, but I still can’t sleep.”
Shen Xi saw her eyes firmly shut, as if challenging her: “How is that possible?”
Lin Zhan pouted: “Because I’m thinking too much.”
Shen Xi: “Then stop thinking.”
Lin Zhan: “I can’t. The moment I close my eyes, thoughts swirl around endlessly.”
If that was the case, he decided to delve deeper.
He wanted to see how this articulate girl could weave excuses for her insomnia.
“How can there be so many things in your head?”
“It’s not like I want to think,” Lin Zhan said, feeling a bit aggrieved. “But what can I do about it?”
Looking at her furrowed face, Shen Xi softened his tone: “Why do you think so much?”
Lin Zhan: “Pressure.”
When Shen Xi’s voice softened, it was like cotton enveloping her. She felt herself collapsing inward.
“Why so much pressure?”
Lin Zhan’s voice began to drag: “...Are you interrogating me like a census officer...”
“Mm,” Shen Xi said. “How old are you this year?”
“Seventeen...”
“What’s your major?”
“Art...”
“What time do you arrive at school?”
“Seven...”
It was no use. Lin Zhan felt something pulling her upward, floating her into the clouds.
The school scenery, the noisy chatter, the monotonous daily life, the art studio and classrooms...
These gentle emotions replaced her anxiety, allowing her to finally drift off to sleep.
Shen Xi still held a magazine—a digest of essay materials. He had planned to read her a story if she still couldn’t sleep.
But now... it wasn’t necessary.
Her eyes were closed, and she was sleeping soundly, her body rising and falling with each breath.
Even the mole beneath her eye seemed to have fallen asleep, resting quietly.
He placed the magazine on her desk.
And took one last glance at her.
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