Embedded Files
Psst! We're moving!
The evening self-study session had just ended, and the crowd was thick with students. A boy dashed past like the wind, rushing to catch the emptiest bus.
It was already May, and the early summer breeze carried a faint dryness and warmth.
New leaves swayed in the wind.
Lin Zhan took a deep breath, but all that filled her nostrils was an inescapable heaviness.
She thought about what had happened earlier that day.
Kicking a pebble on the ground, she crushed it under her heel and sighed softly, “I really don’t know if Shen Xi likes me or not.”
Zheng Yimian froze. “Why bring this up now?”
Lin Zhan said, “I tried testing him today, but it didn’t work.”
At the time, Zheng Yimian had been bent over her homework, only vaguely catching bits of their conversation.
Lin Zhan had called it a “token of love,” but Shen Xi said it could easily cut her and told her to throw it away.
When she asked if he really wanted her to discard a “token of love,” Shen Xi replied—
“Just don’t wear it.”
It was easy to misunderstand.
Especially since Lin Zhan had repeatedly emphasized that it was a symbol of affection.
Lin Zhan repeated, “I really don’t know.”
“Remember Li Chuci I told you about? When she and Zhang Muzhi were in that ambiguous phase, he gave her chocolates on Valentine’s Day. Once, when she was calling her mom, he even joked, ’You’re calling my future mother-in-law?’…”
“Just now, I thought of Li Chuci, and it scared me.”
“Back then, they seemed so close, like it was a sure thing. But in the end, Zhang Muzhi rejected her—multiple times. He never actually liked her.”
She looked up at Zheng Yimian, speaking earnestly, “So, whether someone likes you or not can’t be judged by your own feelings. You can never be sure if you’ve guessed right.”
Zheng Yimian’s heart ached for her. “That’s why testing him was the right move.”
Lin Zhan continued, “If Shen Xi likes someone, maybe it’s like this—always nagging. Or maybe it’s about always giving in? Only he knows how he acts when he likes someone, right?”
“We’ve never seen him like anyone before, so how would we know?”
Zheng Yimian said, “But he treats you differently. That much is obvious.”
Lin Zhan gave a wry smile. “But can we tell if he likes me as a friend or something more? No.”
Last month’s discussion and Li Chuci’s experience had taught Lin Zhan one thing—she couldn’t stay passive anymore. She had to take action.
Zheng Yimian offered advice: “I think the pull-tab thing was too subtle. Maybe Shen Xi didn’t even get what you were hinting at. Next time, try something more obvious—he’ll definitely understand.”
“I think Shen Xi likes you.”
///
By the end of June, Lin Zhan and her friends took advantage of a weekend break to go on another sketching trip.
This time, their destination was nearby, with no safety concerns.
They decided to walk.
…
Shen Xi noticed Lin Zhan was unusually lively today.
On the way, she asked him, “Shen Xi, do you prefer girls with long hair or short hair?”
He glanced at her.
It had been a while since her last haircut, and her once chin-length bob had grown out significantly.
He looked away. “Doesn’t matter.”
“Hmm…” She nodded thoughtfully. “Rounding it off, that means you like girls with short hair, right?”
She raised an eyebrow, her gaze probing.
…How should he answer?
Shen Xi considered it.
Was her hair short or medium-length now?
After weighing his words, he said, “Either is fine. Medium-length too.”
Lin Zhan: “…”
She scratched her head, accepting the answer—because she wasn’t sure what to classify her own hair as either.
At noon, they stopped to rest and shared the snacks they’d brought.
While Lin Zhan was sorting through her things, Shen Xi chatted with Zhang Ze nearby.
Someone suggested, “I brought some plum syrup. Want me to mix it with water so we can all share?”
Sun Hong agreed, “Sure, it’s pretty hot today.”
Luckily, that person had also brought paper cups. They poured a little syrup into each cup and diluted it with water.
When it came to the last cup, Lin Zhan had a mischievous idea.
She added an extra-large dollop of syrup.
When distributing the drinks, Shen Xi didn’t take one at first—he didn’t like sweet beverages.
Lin Zhan coaxed him, “Just take one sip, okay? This one’s really different from the others.”
Shen Xi took the cup, noticing how Lin Zhan sat down beside him with poorly concealed anticipation.
Between her unnatural expression and the suspiciously dark liquid in the cup, he could already guess what was going on.
But he still asked, “Why is this one so much darker?”
Lin Zhan bluffed, “It’s supposed to be this dark—it’s a special flavor. Just try it, really!”
Shen Xi took a sip. It was overpoweringly strong.
He frowned instinctively.
Lin Zhan burst into triumphant laughter. “Figured it out? This one’s undiluted!”
The others joined in, laughing with her.
Just as Lin Zhan felt she’d finally gained the upper hand, Shen Xi had already thought of a countermove.
Holding the cup, he said calmly, “I knew. I just didn’t think you’d lie to me.”
Lin Zhan’s laughter died instantly.
……
In an instant, she’d been cast as the heartless trickster, and Shen Xi the wronged innocent.
Flustered, she stammered, “I—I didn’t mean it like that…”
Watching Lin Zhan deflate in seconds, Zhang Ze leaned over to comment to the others.
“See that? That’s the pinnacle of flirting. Play the victim—make her feel both trusted and guilty for betraying that trust. And then you can…”
“Can what?”
“Figure it out yourself.”
As evening approached, the surroundings grew quiet, with only the sound of brushes being rinsed in water buckets.
Shen Xi sat nearby reading, Zhang Ze played games, and everyone else had found their own ways to pass the time.
Though a certain matter still weighed on her mind, Lin Zhan felt an unusual sense of peace.
It was the perfect atmosphere for creation.
Everyone was working, yet it was serene.
Shen Xi sat beside her, and in one of Lin Zhan’s earbuds played a soft melody—its opening notes the sound of waves crashing against rocks, as if she were standing by the sea.
Crash, crash.
The vastness of the world, the insignificance of a single soul.
She finally pulled out the unfinished painting she’d abandoned nearly a year ago.
After studying it, she wasn’t satisfied.
She decided to start over.
After lightly sketching the outline in pencil, she dipped a liner brush in burnt sienna to refine the shapes.
Then she began blocking in the colors.
The wind whispered past without a sound, leaves rustling softly.
She felt she could even hear the crisp turn of Shen Xi’s book pages.
This tranquil serenity was a rare gift. Her restless heart, adrift for so long, suddenly settled.
Nothing else mattered anymore.
Not whether Lin Zhengping would force her into another competition, not whether Shen Xi liked her, not which art studio she’d end up choosing…
At least in this painting, she had found—and fully commanded—her true self.
Above the clear, translucent blue sea rose the silhouette of a ruin.
The rippling waves folded like the pleats of a pale blue skirt, each crease distorting the ruin into different forms.
The crumbling structure, reflected in the water, took on an unexpected gentleness. And because Lin Zhan had painted the ocean freely, the ruin’s reflection carried a touch of romanticism.
The actual ruin, however, was rendered in stark realism—down to the exposed steel rods and shattered debris.
Six hours later, Lin Zhan finally finished the sea. The ruin would have to wait for another day.
When she looked up, the sky had darkened completely.
Most of their belongings had already been packed away.
Seeing the cleared art supplies nearby, her heart skipped a beat. She quickly turned to look—
Shen Xi was still there.
She exhaled in relief.
Noticing she’d returned from washing her brushes, Shen Xi closed his book. “Finished?”
Her voice brimmed with excitement. “A third of it. After dragging this on for a year, I finally found the inspiration to continue…”
Shen Xi gave a quiet “Mm” and started packing up.
“Since it’s still wet, how do you want to carry it?”
“Just like this,” Lin Zhan said cheerfully. “I’ll hold it while it dries. I can admire it on the way back.”
Shen Xi glanced at the painting.
In the dim light, he could only make out the general composition.
But even that fleeting look told him—it was beautiful.
Shen Xi said, “It’s ten. Should we call a car?”
Only now did Lin Zhan feel the strain in her eyes. She closed them briefly before replying, “Let’s walk for a bit. I’ve been sitting for hours—I’m stiff all over.”
After helping her pack her art bag, Shen Xi nodded. “Alright.”
As Lin Zhan reached for the bag, Shen Xi had already slung it over his shoulder. “I’ll carry it.”
Lin Zhan held the painting board with one hand, using the other to rub her neck.
There was no moon tonight.
Tilting her head up, she murmured, “Shen Xi, how do you think the moonlight is tonight?”
Shen Xi, ever the rational thinker, looked up but saw nothing.
He answered automatically, “Is there even a moon tonight?”
Lin Zhan fell silent for a long moment. “…”
—”The moon is beautiful tonight” was practically code for ”I love you.” Surely Shen Xi knew that?
Hesitating, she said, “Even though there’s no moon… I think the moonlight is beautiful tonight.”
Because you’re here with me.
That’s why tonight’s sky feels so lovely.
Google Sites
Report abuse