RaindropTranslation

The Envelope If you really dug down to the roots of it, Qi Yao and Yu Jiashu were connected by more than just the label of "high school classmates."  But neither of them had ever spoken of it. One assumed he'd long since forgotten. The other assumed she didn't want to talk about it. Time rolls backward. The plane trees outside the window cycled from green to gold and gold to green, through dozens of springs and autumns, returning back to the very beginning. Community Middle School was chaotic, a relentless assault of noise. Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, violet: every eye-searing hair color eventually faded into the same dull, brassy yellow, mixed with dry, brittle texture, it looked like they were wearing a haystack on their head.  Qi Yao sat in the third row by the window. Nearly everyone behind her was sporting a haystack. Some smoked. Some played on their phones. Others clustered together for cards, curses flying out of their mouths with such violence y...

 Maybe it was sheer exhaustion. After her shower, Fang Zhuo was overcome by an immense drowsiness. She forgot whatever plan she'd had and fell asleep the moment she lay down. The soft bedding still carried the scent of sunlight. Wrapped in that comfort, Fang Zhuo sank into a long, radiant dream. She dreamed she had become a windless, waveless sea. One day, a great ship sailed onto that vast, calm expanse, sounding its horn, flying its banners, announcing its presence with all the fanfare it could muster. Sailor Yan Lie stood at the prow, waving his arms at her. Captain Ye Yuncheng manned the helm, drifting across the boundless ocean. The sky was a spotless, brilliant blue. Ye Yuncheng took off his sun hat and leaned against the railing. He cast a fishing net and hauled it up with Yan Lie's help. "We've caught something good!" Yan Lie shouted gleefully. "I've fished the sun right out of the water!" The net broke the surface, but its contents dissolve...

Bubbles The year they graduated, everyone migrated en masse from their flashy Penguin app over to WeChat. Sharing your QR code or username in the group chat became some kind of rite of passage into adulthood. Yu Jiashu didn't share his. But, strangely, almost everyone seemed to know his WeChat ID anyway. His contact was passed around, forwarded and shared, spreading by word of mouth. That's just how people are, always leaving themselves a back door. Even if you barely knew each other, even if you'd never talk again, you still wanted to hold onto a contact, just in case. Especially when the person in question was plastered on the honor roll and fielding phone calls from every top university in the country. His entire summer break was an endless stream of friend requests. When he had time, he'd approve some in passing, never asking anyone for a name, never necessarily replying to messages. When he was busy, the requests would pile up into a long, pitiful string. ...

 Fang Zhuo felt like a frog in a pot of slowly warming water. Her limbs, her brain, all of it had gone numb. When Ye Yuncheng saw the light and realized it was her, a flicker of excitement crossed his face, but he kept his voice measured. "I thought you weren't coming. It got dark and you still weren't here, so I headed back first. What kept you so late?" Fang Zhuo didn't respond. She stood up, hitched her backpack straps, and angled the flashlight beam at the ground. Ye Yuncheng said, "There's only one streetlight for a long stretch out here, and it's been broken for months. Can you see at all? Weren't you scared walking alone?" Fang Zhuo swallowed. After a pause, she said, "No." Ye Yuncheng stepped closer and took the flashlight from her. His fingers accidentally brushed hers, the touch was ice-cold. She must've been so scared and was just putting on a brave front, but he didn't call her on it. He hung the flashlight on th...

Undercurrent Bang, bang, bang. The doorbell and frantic knocking overlapped in a relentless assault on her peaceful sleep. Qi Yao was jolted awake for the second time that day. She sat up in bed, eyes still shut, and sat there in a daze for a long moment before shuffling out to open the door. "It's eleven already. I've practically crossed half the country to get here, and you're still sleeping?" Ye Qingman pushed her sunglasses down her nose with her index and middle fingers, revealing a pair of almond-shaped eyes. She gave Qi Yao a deeply suspicious once-over. "Look at those dark circles. Were you up all night binge-watching dramas?" "No." Qi Yao yawned and stepped aside to let her in. "I just couldn't sleep." Ye Qingman had barely dragged her suitcase inside when the German Shepherd's barking nearly shattered the sound barrier. He launched himself at her in a frenzy of pure excitement. Hot, eager paws scrabbled at he...

 With the holiday approaching, even if it was only three and a half days off, the students were getting restless. Test papers for every subject had already been handed out. Judging by the sheer volume, the teachers hadn't left them much free time at all. Fang Zhuo squeezed in a few of them whenever she could, afraid she wouldn't have time once she was at Ye Yuncheng's place. As Friday drew closer, Fang Zhuo found herself growing nervous. Mostly because she barely knew Ye Yuncheng. She'd left so abruptly last time, certain she'd never see him again. Now she had no idea what attitude to adopt. Part of her felt she shouldn't waste so much mental energy on this, not with the college entrance exam looming. Ye Yuncheng might just be another Fang Yiming, holding only a token, perfunctory affection for her. What depth of feeling could possibly exist between two people who had never spent real time together? They weren't even the closest of blood relatives. Yet anoth...

Sleep Talk “…Could her old high school classmate have one too?” The words landed like a thunderclap. Qi Yao could no longer pretend she hadn’t heard them. At some point, her signature had already devolved into incomprehensible scribbles. Her lashes trembled as she lifted her eyes. The same spot. The same hallway. The same glance exchanged through a half-open window. The moment their eyes met, it was as if time itself was reversed, the years rushing backward between them, dissolving into a distant, unreachable past. Just like high school. She would sit in that second-to-last row by the window, lifting her head from her notes-covered textbook to quietly, secretly trace a certain figure that occasionally passed by. The ordinary, white button-down mandatory school uniform looked on him like some kind of haute couture. His broadening teenage shoulders stretched the fabric into clean, beautiful lines. When he ran, wind would billow through the shirt. His chin lifted slightly, laughte...