DXXZL - 37

The night breeze rustled the leaves, creating a soft, whispering sound. The moonlight cast dappled shadows that danced across their bodies.

Zhu Xingyao tilted her head to look at Jiang Tu’s face. He was gazing down at her, his eyes beneath his glasses dark and inscrutable, hiding any trace of emotion.

In that fleeting moment, Zhu Xingyao felt an overwhelming sense of confusion. There were so many things she didn’t know—she didn’t know the love letters had been written by Jiang Tu, she didn’t know he was the one who had kissed her, and she didn’t know the star lights were his gift for her seventeenth birthday.

Because of all these things she didn’t know, she had started dating Lu Ji early, leading to being called in by Principal Liu for a talk.

But some feelings couldn’t be deceived. For instance, her heart seemed to beat faster now, and she felt a mix of sadness and embarrassment.

She didn’t understand why she felt this way.

Wasn’t she supposed to like Lu Ji?

Dingling—

The dismissal bell suddenly rang, startling her.

Without hesitation, Jiang Tu flipped over the wall and jumped down. Then he extended his hand to her. “Come on down.”

Zhu Xingyao grabbed onto his arm and jumped down. She had always followed the rules diligently when in school. Earlier, she hadn’t wanted to stay on campus, but now that she was out, she didn’t know where to go. Jiang Tu glanced down at her and asked, “Are you hungry?”

She shook her head, then nodded. “A little.”

“Then let’s get something to eat first.” Jiang Tu turned and walked ahead.

Zhu Xingyao followed him, suddenly exclaiming, “I don’t have any money with me!” All she had was her phone.

Jiang Tu looked back at her. “I’ve got it. Let’s go.”

They entered a duck blood vermicelli shop. Jiang Tu handed Zhu Xingyao a bottle of soy milk while she sent a text to Li Xixi, saying she was heading home first.

Back on campus, after the class bell rang, Lu Ji returned from the office. He first checked the back door of Class 1 and saw that both Zhu Xingyao’s and Jiang Tu’s seats were empty. A heavy feeling settled in his chest. He called Xu Xiangyang out of the classroom, leaving behind a room buzzing with whispers.

As they reached the stairwell, Lu Ji frowned and asked, “Has Zhu Xingyao come back yet?”

Xu Xiangyang replied, “No. Just now, Li Xixi received a text from her saying she was going home first.”

Lu Ji fell silent for a moment, remembering that she hadn’t taken her phone with her. “What about Jiang Tu?”

“He left sometime earlier,” Xu Xiangyang said dismissively. “He often skips self-study classes during tutoring sessions.” He was more concerned about what Principal Liu had said to them. “Everyone’s talking about you and Zhu Xingyao now. Did Principal Liu give you a hard time?”

Lu Ji didn’t respond. He turned and walked downstairs. Xu Xiangyang called after him, “Hey, where are you going?”

Lu Ji waved his hand. “I’ll be out for a bit.”

Both he and Xu Xiangyang were guaranteed admission to universities, so even if they skipped classes, the school wouldn’t say much. He strode into the forest, pulling out his phone to call Zhu Xingyao, but then paused. What was the point? She probably didn’t want to see him right now. For a long time to come, they’d need to avoid suspicion.

Standing among the trees, Lu Ji wandered from tree to tree, taking over ten minutes to find the master switch. He pressed it, and the entire forest lit up again. Not long after, Director Liu’s angry shouts echoed through the area.

Lu Ji acted as though he hadn’t heard, tilting his head to look up.

There were twenty-six trees in total, adorned with thousands of stars, making the seventeen stars he had made seem incredibly small by comparison.

It was already past eight o’clock when they finished eating. Zhu Xingyao and Jiang Tu stood outside the shop, where a bus bound for the city center slowly pulled up to the stop. Jiang Tu leaned down and asked her, “Do you want to go play?”

Zhu Xingyao gasped softly. Did Jiang Tu just ask if she wanted to go play?

Jiang Tu repeated, “Do you want to go?”

Did she want to go? Skipping class only felt truly rebellious if it involved having fun, right?

Instinctively, Zhu Xingyao nodded. In the next instant, he grabbed her hand and began running forward. Startled, she looked up at him.

They leaped onto the bus just as the doors were about to close.

Once on board, Jiang Tu let go of her hand and dropped two coins into the fare box. His expression calm, he said, “There are seats in the back. Let’s sit there.”

They took their seats near the rear window. As the bus moved, the colorful lights of the streets flickered past their faces. Jiang Tu’s demeanor remained composed, while Zhu Xingyao glanced at him before lowering her head and whispering, “Brother Tu, will you laugh at me?”

Jiang Tu paused for a moment, then turned to look at her. With utmost calmness, he said, “No.”

He would only feel twice as pained.

Zhu Xingyao suddenly didn’t know what else to say. She looked up and asked, “Where do you want to go?”

“What do you want to do?”

“Can we go to the claw machine? Last time, Xixi and I spent half a day trying to get that rabbit…” She hesitated for a moment. “Never mind, let’s not do claw machines. Let’s go to the square and play some arcade games instead.”

Playing the claw machine was expensive. Last time, she and Li Xixi had spent nearly two hundred yuan and only managed to grab a few clown dolls.

At the largest arcade in Jiangcheng’s city center, Jiang Tu hadn’t brought much money today. After setting aside enough for their return fare, he bought fifteen tokens. Standing at the counter, he silently stared at the most prominent coin-pusher machine, where several adult players had gathered.

Gambling was something he despised more than anything else in life. He had thought he would never touch it.

After struggling and hesitating…

In the end, he stepped forward.

Zhu Xingyao didn’t know what he was planning to do. She assumed that fifteen tokens would only last a few minutes at the claw machine, so she headed toward it. But suddenly, he stopped and pulled her back. Looking over her shoulder, she realized he was staring at someone playing a coin game. She froze.

“Wait for me,” he said.

Zhu Xingyao immediately understood what he intended to do. Panicking, she tugged at him. “No… don’t play this.”

Jiang Tu calmly glanced at her. “It’ll be quick. Trust me.”

He stood there quietly, observing how others played and calculating the payout ratio of the coin-pusher machines. The adults nearby had baskets filled with tokens—thousands or even tens of thousands of them. One man smoking a cigarette looked up at him. “Kid, you want to play? But with just those few tokens?”

Jiang Tu looked at him and said, “I’ll help you win. Give me half of your tokens.”

The man raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “You’re pretty confident. How can you be so sure you’ll win? What if you lose?”

Jiang Tu tossed the small bag containing his fifteen tokens into the man’s basket. Calmly, he said, “Three rounds. I guarantee you won’t lose. If you do, I’ll pay you back.”

The man glanced at Zhu Xingyao, noting her worried expression. He chuckled, stood up, and gave Jiang Tu his spot. “Alright, let’s see how you impress your girlfriend.”

Zhu Xingyao froze. Jiang Tu paused momentarily and said evenly, “She’s not my girlfriend.”

The man smirked. “Your sister? Doesn’t quite look like it either.”

Jiang Tu’s lips twitched slightly, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he looked toward the other players. “Who’s playing?”

Still wearing their school uniforms, the other men didn’t take a high school student seriously. During the first round, Jiang Tu lost two thousand tokens. Someone mocked him: “Can you handle it? If you lose, how will you pay back?” Another man turned to the one standing beside Jiang Tu. “Hey, buddy, are you really letting some kid gamble without collateral? Even if you’re rich, you don’t throw money around like that, do you?”

Zhu Xingyao touched the watch on her wrist, a gift from Zhu Yunping for her 17th birthday.

She took it off and placed it into the basket. “This will be the collateral.”

The man was surprised. “Isn’t this a Longines? It’s worth tens of thousands. Using it as collateral would be a loss for you two.”

Jiang Tu frowned, but Zhu Xingyao quickly said, “Brother Tu, do your best. I believe in you.”

There are some people in this world who inspire unconditional trust no matter what they do. For Zhu Xingyao, Jiang Tu was one such person. She didn’t know why, but she trusted him completely. If he said he could win in three rounds, then she believed he could.

In the second round, Zhu Xingyao noticed the tension in Jiang Tu’s clenched jaw as he focused intently on the tokens being pushed and dropped in the coin-pusher machine. He was nervous too, but they were lucky that night and won back three thousand coins.

In the third round, Jiang Tu let others play first, waiting several games before starting again. Once more, he won another three thousand coins.

The men nearby were stunned, while the one who had given up his spot raised an eyebrow and chuckled.

Without saying a word, Jiang Tu stood up, picked up Zhu Xingyao’s watch, and handed it back to her. Then he grabbed a basket, scooped up several handfuls of game tokens—without counting—and stuffed them into her arms. Looking down at her, he asked, “Is this enough?”

Zhu Xingyao hugged the heavy basket and nodded happily. “Enough, more than enough! This will last me and Xixi several visits.”

“That’s not even close to half,” the man interjected, adding several more handfuls until the basket was overflowing with over a thousand tokens. He glanced at the stoic Jiang Tu. “Want to play one more round?”

“No.”

Jiang Tu replied indifferently, leading Zhu Xingyao to the claw machines.

If he ever brought her here again, he hoped it wouldn’t have to be through such means.

With over a thousand tokens, all won through skill, the experience felt different from Zhu Xingyao’s previous visits to arcades. She tried her hand at the claw machines and other games, discovering that Jiang Tu—despite rarely speaking or engaging in entertainment—was incredibly smart. He seemed to grasp how to play almost instantly, excelling at everything.

Standing by the claw machine, watching Jiang Tu calmly control the joystick, Zhu Xingyao suddenly said, “Brother Tu, you’re usually so quiet and reserved. I thought…” She paused, thinking of what Li Xixi had once said—that dating Jiang Tu would require enduring his cold demeanor and minimal conversation.

The rabbit wobbled into the prize slot. Zhu Xingyao bit her lip and softly murmured, “If you had a girlfriend, you’d definitely know how to make her happy.”

Jiang Tu bent down, retrieved the rabbit, and handed it to her.

Looking down at her, he whispered, “Do you think so? That’s still far away.”

At 11:30 PM, Zhu Xingyao returned home to find Zhu Yunping and Ding Yu still waiting for her in the living room. It was her first time skipping class and staying out so late since high school, not to mention being called in by the principal for a talk.

She held a large bundle of plush toys and a significant number of leftover tokens.

Today, she hadn’t been well-behaved at all. Her parents were surely going to scold her.

Zhu Xingyao placed the pile of plush toys on the sofa and stood before them, tilting her chin defiantly. “Mom, are you going to scold me?”

Ding Yu was taken aback, glancing at Zhu Yunping with mixed emotions. Zhu Yunping stood up, picked up the plush toys, and praised her instead. “You did great. You managed to grab so many this time.”

Zhu Xingyao: “….”

It wasn’t her doing; she only managed to get three herself.

Ding Yu also stood up, noticing the bag of tokens. She looked at her daughter and asked, “Did Lu Ji take you to the arcade? Did he buy all these tokens too?”

No, he didn’t.

Zhu Xingyao lowered her eyes, remaining silent.

Ding Yu assumed her silence meant agreement and sighed lightly. “We’re not trying to scold you, sweetheart. You’re still young, and now is your final year of high school. In October, you’ll have a recital and need to record videos for applications. In November, you’ll take the TestDaF, and next year, you’ll study abroad. No matter how you look at it, this isn’t the right time for early romance—it’s irresponsible to both you and the other person…”

Zhu Yunping interrupted her. “Enough. Let’s not talk about this for now.”

He turned to Zhu Xingyao, his tone gentle. “Go upstairs and get some rest.”

In the early hours of the morning, Zhu Xingyao sat at her desk in her pink nightgown. The seventeen stars gifted by Lu Ji rested on the table. She pressed the switch, and the stars lit up. Picking up her phone, she saw a message from Lu Ji.

Lu Ji: Zhu Xingyao, don’t distance yourself from me because of this.

The rumors spreading around the school couldn’t be stopped, but Zhu Xingyao forced herself to remain calm and act as if she hadn’t heard them. As for Lu Ji… whatever Principal Liu had told their homeroom teachers, the two were essentially isolated within the school.

They rarely ate together anymore. Occasionally, when Lu Ji came to see her, they would draw a crowd, leaving her flustered as she pulled Li Xixi along to avoid him. Each time, Lu Ji grew increasingly irritated. Since learning about the anonymous report, Zhou Yuan had been ranting, “Whoever reported them deserves to be single forever!”

Lin Jiayu chimed in, scoffing. “Early romance is wrong anyway.”

Zhou Yuan snapped at her. “Hey, Lin Jiayu, Lu Ji tutors you every day. Why are you always siding against him? Don’t you want him to be happy?”

Lu Ji glanced at Lin Jiayu. “Yeah, why don’t you wish me well? What makes me unworthy…? What’s wrong with me?” What makes me unworthy of Zhu Xingyao? What makes me inferior to Jiang Tu?

Lin Jiayu had asked Jiang Tu if he was the one who reported them.

Jiang Tu neither denied nor admitted it.

She glanced at Lu Ji and muttered, “I never said you weren’t good enough.”

Every break between classes, Xu Xiangyang would place a bottle of soy milk on Zhu Xingyao’s desk, claiming it was from Lu Ji.

The entire school knew—they were the focus of Principal Liu’s strict isolation policy.

The Friday love letters from “J” resumed, and Zhu Xingyao found comfort in them. The weekly letters had become an important bridge connecting her to Lu Ji.

After a few days of feeling upset and委屈 (grievance), Zhu Xingyao adjusted. She was too busy, her schedule packed to the brim. She needed to practice for the upcoming recital in mid-October. Though small, the concert would sell two to three hundred tickets, with the rest of the audience consisting of family and friends.

Chen Lan would guide her, as the performance video would be sent to the Berlin University of the Arts.

In the October monthly exam, Class 1 still fell short of Class 2, dashing Mr. Cao’s hopes of a date with Teacher Xie yet again.

Zhu Xingyao’s grades dropped to ninth place in her class. Feeling guilty—having missed the previous exam and performed poorly this time—she blamed herself for Mr. Cao’s failure to pursue Teacher Xie. To make amends, she gifted concert tickets to both teachers.

Close friends and classmates also received complimentary tickets.

On the evening of October 19th, the small concert hall gradually filled with spectators. Jiang Tu declined the VIP ticket Zhu Xingyao offered, choosing instead to sit in the back row. After settling in, the person beside him felt a tap on the shoulder—it was Lu Ji. “Can we swap tickets? Mine is for the VIP section.”

The ticket had been given to him by Zhu Xingyao, fulfilling her earlier promise.

Lu Ji took a seat next to Jiang Tu. Jiang Tu turned to look at him, his expression cold.

Lu Ji gave a self-deprecating smile. “I can’t sit in the front row—I’m afraid my parents might see me.”

Jiang Tu remained emotionless, turning his head back to face forward.

On stage, the young girl emerged from backstage wearing a custom-made dress and high heels. One hand lifted her skirt, the other holding her cello. Bathed in the spotlight, she exuded an ethereal glow, every movement and smile breathtakingly beautiful.