YABE - 39

On the last day of December, people on campus bustled about with hurried expressions. The library was particularly quiet, with few visitors.

The air was damp, chilly, and eerily silent.

Qu Xiawan blinked, seemingly trying to smile. Her facial muscles twitched slightly, her lips twisting into a half-smirk, half-grimace.

“You knew? I thought you were really that naive.”

After a pause, she continued.

Wen Siyu’s mind felt hazy, confused, and at a loss. She forced a smile and shrugged, internally debating whether her current expression looked indifferent enough or if her posture seemed cool. She asked her: “Do you really hate me that much?”

Qu Xiawan tightened her grip on her phone: “Yes. Don’t you think you’re annoying? You spend all day gaming in the dorm, skipping classes, treating studying like a joke. Yet the best things always come to you—scholarships, awards. We work so hard on our films, but you casually snag first place by roping in the campus prince and princess. I feel like an idiot whenever I try my hardest in front of you.” She smiled faintly, her tone light and dismissive.

“What do you rely on? Talent? Your looks? You eat well, dress well, use the best things—all of it puts us to shame. You strut around the dorm every day with your inflated sense of superiority. But isn’t it true that every week you’re seen getting out of different men’s cars?”

The girl’s voice was still familiar—lively, light, and bouncy—but the words she spoke chilled Wen Siyu to the bone.

It was like the icy northern winter wind, slicing across her face, her body. Her exposed skin stung sharply, and the cold seeped deep into her bones.

Wen Siyu’s fingers trembled.

She remembered asking her just days ago: Ay Yu, were all those feelings we shared fake?

Were they all fake?

Wen Siyu wanted to know too.

They used to reserve seats for each other in class, go to the cafeteria together after class, visit the restroom and fetch water together. They had stood side by side during morning assemblies after oversleeping and participated in synchronized aerobics at the sports meet.

They stayed up late into the night chatting until two or three in the morning, then teased each other in the morning about toothpaste stains left on their faces.

They snuck out to the night market, eating their way through the entire street. Sitting by the roadside stalls, Wen Siyu sipped her cola while Qu Xiawan and Tang Yier clinked bottles of cold beer.

On weekend nights, they went to the cinema for midnight screenings, crying their eyes out afterward and hugging each other tightly like fools. Qu Xiawan wiped her tears and hugged them fiercely, saying, “Let’s never fight again.”

Were all these moments fake too?

Wen Siyu didn’t understand.

She couldn’t comprehend.

She wanted to ask her, the words already on the tip of her tongue, but no matter what, she couldn’t bring herself to say them.

When she was talking to Xia Yuan earlier, she had already seen her.

Through the double glass doors of the library, the mirrored walls reflected her shadow. The familiar figure of the girl stood motionless, holding her phone, taking pictures.

Including a few days ago when she was called in for a talk, and Shen Guorun said to her—

“You have a close friend named Qu Xiawan, right?”

“She came to see me a few times recently and raised objections about your short film winning first prize.”

And Tang Yier’s statement—”The counselor asked me, so I told them.”

Tang Yier wouldn’t lie. After nearly three years of living together, Wen Siyu knew her character well.

As for Qu Xiawan, she had thought she understood her too.

Her eyes itched, and Wen Siyu blinked, lowering her gaze and forcing a small smile before lifting her lashes.

She stared at her quietly, her eyes clear, her voice calm and steady. “You’re not the fool. I am.”

That was all she said.

Without looking back, she walked away.

Suddenly, she didn’t want to say anything, didn’t want to ask anymore.

She understood.

The kindness they once showed her was real.

So was the hatred now directed at her.

…

As soon as Gu Yao stepped into her home, she saw a shadow sitting on the floor. The moment she entered, the figure shot up and lunged straight at her.

Thinking her house had been burglarized, Gu Yao screamed in fright. Upon recognizing the person, she froze.

Wen Siyu clung to her neck, tears streaming down her face like beads falling in rapid succession.

Gu Yao panicked and quickly set down her bag and keys, half-hugging the person and leading her inside. Her usual stoic demeanor vanished as she furrowed her brow and wiped away Wen Siyu’s tears. “What happened?”

“Yao Yao, waaah…” Wen Siyu sniffled.

“I’m here, I’m here.” Gu Yao handed her a tissue, dabbing at her nose. “What’s wrong?”

“I miss Teacher Jiang, waaah…”

Gu Yao: “….”

Could someone please kill her?

After listening to Wen Siyu recount the entire story, Gu Yao slammed her hand on the table and leapt to her feet, her eyes blazing with fury.

“Qu Xiawan, right?” she growled through gritted teeth. “If I don’t make her pay tomorrow, I’ll change my surname to Wen.”

Wen Siyu: “….”

“What’s wrong with the surname Wen? It’s a great name!”

Gu Yao ignored her, torn between frustration and pity as she watched Wen Siyu’s tear-swollen eyes. Finally, she couldn’t help but scold her: “Why are you being such a pushover this time? Did you just let her insult you without saying a word? Aren’t you supposed to be quick-witted? Where’s that sharp tongue you use during livestreams? Curse her out!”

Wen Siyu hung her head, looking pitiful. “…We’ve known each other for almost three years.”

Gu Yao was exasperated by Wen Siyu’s saintly attitude and nearly kicked her. “Brother, she plotted against you right under your nose and put on a damn good show. If you tell me you’re letting this slide, then let’s stop being friends.”

Wen Siyu made an “oh” sound and said, “Fine, I’ll let it slide this time.”

Gu Yao: “…???”

“If she lets it go, then I will too.” Wen Siyu sat cross-legged on the carpet, hugging her knees. “After all, three years is a long time. I’ll take this as a lesson.”

Gu Yao knew she was hurting inside and didn’t press further, merely rolling her eyes. “Fine. But what if she doesn’t let it go and starts causing trouble again?”

Wen Siyu tapped her phone, not even looking up. “Then I’ll slap her face.”

Gu Yao nodded in understanding, leaning closer to watch her fiddle with her phone. “You can slap her face all you want, but why did you buy a ticket to Beijing?”

Wen Siyu had already booked her ticket, scheduled to depart in three hours. She tossed her phone aside, stood up, and began putting on her coat. “To complain to my Teacher Jiang.”

Gu Yao: “….”

This was Wen Siyu’s second trip to Beijing, and the process went much smoother than her first visit.

At least she didn’t get lost at the airport this time.

It was already evening when she landed. Stepping off the plane, she felt the distinct dry cold of the north, starkly different from the south. Only then did she truly grasp that she had impulsively boarded a three-hour flight, crossing half of China.

With the upcoming three-day New Year holiday, the airport was packed. After catching a taxi, Wen Siyu wasn’t sure if Jiang Xu was filming, so she headed directly to the hotel.

Familiar with the layout, she slipped into his room without turning on the lights, relying on the dim glow from outside the floor-to-ceiling windows to scan the space.

Everything was the same as it had been a week ago. She entered the bedroom and found the pink plush rabbit sitting neatly in the center of the pillow.

Wen Siyu smiled, tossed her coat aside, climbed onto the bed, and scooped the rabbit into her arms.

Jiang Xu finished filming at eleven and arrived at the hotel just before midnight.

In the dim, quiet room, he answered Zhou Yi’s call while taking off his coat, tossing it onto the sofa. He turned to enter the bedroom to shower. As he pushed the door open, he froze.

Zhou Yi called out several times on the other end, but no one responded.

Wen Siyu lay on his bed, shoes still on, legs dangling off the edge, face buried in the covers, clutching the rabbit as she slept soundly.

Jiang Xu ended the call and walked over.

Her skin was pale, bathed in moonlight, with faint tear streaks on her cheeks.

Had she cried?

Jiang Xu gently wiped away a tear stain from the corner of her eye. His movements were soft, but the little girl still woke up.

Her eyelashes fluttered, then slowly opened. Her gaze was unfocused as she stared blankly at him, taking a few seconds to register his presence.

“You’re back,” she murmured, sitting up and rubbing her eyes.

The simple phrase “you’re back” sent a tender shiver through Jiang Xu’s heart.

He hummed softly in acknowledgment, asking nothing.

He didn’t ask why she was here, when she arrived, or why she hadn’t told him.

He didn’t ask why she had cried.

He simply watched her in silence. It was Wen Siyu who broke the quiet, suddenly springing up with a nervous expression and jumping off the bed. She dashed out of the room.

After a brief silence, she returned, looking visibly relieved.

The little girl walked over, pulling him by one finger to get him up.

Jiang Xu obediently stood and allowed her to lead him into the living room.

Wen Siyu faced the wall clock, silently counting down in her mind.

3.

4.

5.

Outside, fireworks whizzed into the sky with a soft hiss, exploding into blossoms of light before cascading down like a starry waterfall.

She pressed her hand against his chest, tiptoed, closed her eyes, and gently kissed his lips.

“Teacher Jiang, Happy New Year.”