The Scorching Sun - 15

Fang Zhuo sat for a while, and before long her ragged breathing settled back into its usual rhythm.

The teachers' sports meet and the closing ceremony would follow immediately, so there was no point in returning to the classroom yet. With nothing else to do, she picked up a rag and wiped down every table and chair in the rest area.

By the time she rinsed the rag and came back, the gloomy sky that had threatened rain all day finally gave in. Fine, pale droplets drifted down, weaving a slanted veil across the air.

Out on the field, the final student event was underway: the class relay race.

Fang Zhuo stood beneath the awning for a while, but the rain showed no sign of letting up. A student nearby secretly checked the weather forecast on their phone and whispered that it was expected to keep raining until evening.

The school didn't call a halt. Instead, an announcement came over the loudspeaker instructing everyone to speed up relay check-in. They hoped to finish the meet before the track became completely soaked, gambling that the light rain wouldn't get much worse.

Young people, it seemed, had no concept of cold. The students weren't discouraged in the slightest. Their hearts burned with excitement for one last showdown, they warmed up beneath the drizzle in nothing but thin athletic shirts.

The homeroom teacher had someone round up a few umbrellas to shield the runners, then directed everyone else to move the tables and chairs back to the classroom first. The remaining time would be for self-study, with further instructions to follow over the broadcast.

Once the relay ended, the referees hurried off to submit the results for scoring, and the closing ceremony quietly became another casualty of the rain.

The students didn't feel any regret, though. On the walk back, they were marveling at how considerate the rain had been. It had held off for three whole days and only arrived at the perfect moment.

Shen Musi turned around with a grin. "Teacher, you don't have to run with the school leaders anymore. You must be thrilled, right?"

Trailing behind the group, the homeroom teacher forced a smile. Even she couldn't decide whether she felt relieved or miserable.

She had signed up for the 800-meter race, finishing it came with a two-hundred-yuan bonus. She'd spent the whole afternoon dreading it. Now she no longer had to run, but somehow she'd also lost two hundred yuan she'd practically counted as hers. That hurt almost as much.

A living example of humanity selling its soul for money.

One autumn rainstorm was enough to drag the temperature down in an instant.

Worried that the students would catch colds after sweating all afternoon, the homeroom teacher told everyone to put on extra layers. Then, in the same breath, she handed out another test paper to "warm them up."

Fang Zhuo slipped her school jacket back on and noticed a streak of mud on one sleeve. She didn't know when it had gotten there. Her cleanliness obsession immediately kicked in, she grabbed a bar of soap then headed for the sinks.

Outside the restroom was a long wash basin that was nearly deserted. Fang Zhuo held her hands beneath the running water, letting the cool stream wash away the lingering heat from her skin. The chill felt wonderfully refreshing.

When she looked up, Bai Lufei's reflection appeared in the mirror, hesitantly approaching.

Her gaze brushed over him once, then lowered her eyes again, as if she hadn't seen him. He stopped half a meter behind her.

"Fang Zhuo." He said her name. When she didn't respond, he pressed on. "Why are you ignoring me?"

She couldn't help admiring his persistence. At the same time, she was utterly baffled. Perhaps this was the greatest gulf that could exist between two people. They were both speaking the same language, yet somehow they still couldn't understand each other.

"Did you misunderstand me? I thought about everything after I went back. I just wanted to say... I'm serious. I wasn't joking..." He stumbled over the words as if he'd bitten his tongue. "I really do like you!"

Bai Lufei sounded far more sincere than last time, and much less infuriating. Watching his awkward expression through the mirror, Fang Zhuo reached over and shut off the faucet.

"I don't want to date anyone. And I don't like you." She was genuinely perplexed, "Which of those two sentences is so hard to understand?"

"Why?" Bai Lufei demanded, genuinely unable to understand. "Haven't I treated you well? I can buy you things. I can eat with you. You yelled at me last time and I didn't even get mad. I haven't done anything wrong, so why can't you at least show me some respect?"

Fang Zhuo found his talk of "liking" rather laughable. It wasn't that young people were incapable of understanding feelings. The problem was that Bai Lufei barely knew her. He only knew she was pretty enough, poor, and had no friends. Based on that alone, he declared he liked her and kept pestering her relentlessly. He never cared what she thought, yet somehow expected her to respect him.

She didn't want to respect him, because he had never respected her either.

His words were too naive. So naive it felt insulting.

She turned around and faced Bai Lufei directly. She lowered her gaze, gathered her thoughts, and spoke. "I'll say this one last time. I'm busy. I have too many things I need to do. I have zero interest in participating in your life."

Fang Zhuo delivered this calmly, without sarcasm, without anger. "My life is not so short that I need to use my senior year of high school to date. And I don't have the spare energy to answer the same question from you over and over. Don't come looking for me again."

Something in those words finally struck a nerve. Bai Lufei's lips twitched as he struggled to contain himself before blurting out, "You like Yan Lie, don't you?"

He was already the third person to say that, and Fang Zhuo was beginning to find it irritating. She didn't answer immediately. But that tiny pause was all Bai Lufei needed. To him, it looked like guilty silence.

The corners of his mouth sank into a cold smile. "So what if you like him? Do you really think Yan Lie would ever like you back? One pair of his shoes probably costs more than your family's living expenses for a whole year. Maybe he was nice to you because he casually felt sorry for you once. And you took that as him liking you? Impossible. Plenty of girls at school like him, and he brushes every one of them off. What do you even have? You can't even afford the soup in your meal without someone giving you a charity!"

Fang Zhuo froze. A sharp ringing exploded in her ears, and the color drained from her face. Yet her expression remained as composed as ever. Whether she was hurt or angry, almost nothing showed.

Truthfully, she hadn't felt this way in a very long time, not since she'd chosen to avoid people and keep to herself.

She wasn't ashamed of who she was. But she hated people mocking her family, her poverty, and everything she hadn't had the chance to know.

People like her, unwanted by their parents, unblessed by fate, people for whom even good luck came with a heavier burden than it did for others, the one thing they had, the one thing no one could take from them, was their dignity.

Perhaps, in Bai Lufei's eyes, the efforts of people like her were worth absolutely nothing. In the world he sincerely believed in, "help" and "charity" meant exactly the same thing.

For the first time in a long while, Fang Zhuo was genuinely angry.

The first person she thought of was Yan Lie.

The same age. The same school. The same teachers. Sometimes separated by nothing more than a single classroom wall. Yet some people had already grown into thoughtful, steady young adults, while others remained selfish and immature.

She lifted her head, intending to speak, only to realize her throat had tightened painfully.

Right now, she could have curled her lips into a sneer and thrown every cutting word she could think of at him. But when she looked at Bai Lufei, watched him avert his eyes in the silence and saw the regret surfacing on his face, she suddenly felt that humiliating him would only be a waste of effort.

Bai Lufei was a lucky child raised in comfort, never forced to see the storms outside the greenhouse or the people struggling through them. He had no idea what it meant to stab someone in their deepest wound, and yet he had done so with frightening precision.

As society developed, there only seemed to be more and more people like him.

They had never known poverty because everyone around them had lived comfortably. To them, hardship meant not getting the toy they wanted or missing out on praise they expected. So they looked at Fang Zhuo and asked, Why do you always need someone else's help? Why can't you do it yourself?

Bai Lufei wasn't the first and almost certainly wouldn't be the last.

Fang Zhuo had no answer for them.

She didn't want to explain her hardships to people like them or lay bare the realities of her life. She only wanted to keep climbing, one step at a time, until she reached a place where they could no longer look down on her, where she could finally meet their eyes as an equal.

Perhaps that wasn't such a bad thing. She only hoped no one else would have to face the same question in the future.

She turned back to the sink and switched the faucet on again, rinsing the soap from her sleeve.

Behind her, Bai Lufei stood helplessly before quietly saying, "I'm sorry."

Fang Zhuo bent slightly over the sink, scrubbing the sleeve, watching the dark brown mud stain gradually fade until the fabric was white once more.

She focused entirely on what she was doing, as though no one else existed behind her.

To Bai Lufei, however, every second dragged on endlessly. The rush of running water became a saw slowly grinding against his nerves, while Fang Zhuo's silence only deepened his regret. Panic crept into his chest, and he blurted out again, "I'm sorry!"

Fang Zhuo wrung out the water, gave the jacket a sharp shake to smooth it flat, folded it once, and draped it over her arm. Her gaze remained cold and distant. Without sparing him even a glance, she simply walked past him.

Even after her figure disappeared, Bai Lufei remained rooted to the spot.

The men's restroom door swung open. Heavy footsteps echoed from the silent stalls.

Yan Lie, Zhao Jiayou, and the others finally emerged carrying their drenched clothes. There was no telling how long they'd been holding themselves back in there.

Yan Lie glanced in the direction Fang Zhuo had left, then cast a harsh, cutting look at Bai Lufei. His face was so dark it was almost unfamiliar.

"Dumbass." He forced his voice to stay level. "Don't say I'm bullying you. Call everyone from your class. Isn't this what you've always wanted? We settle it. I lose, I get lost. You lose, you get lost. Stop pulling this disgusting shit behind people's backs."

***

Fang Zhuo hung her wet jacket by her seat and started on the freshly distributed practice test. By the time she'd finished the multiple-choice and fill-in-the-blank sections, she glanced to the side and realized Yan Lie still hadn't returned.

The closing ceremony was ultimately held over the broadcast. The crackling speakers blared loud enough to drill into everyone's ears, making it impossible for most students to concentrate. Fang Zhuo, however, seemed to empty her mind completely, sinking into her work with unusual focus.

At last, after the leaders finished their speeches, the homeroom teacher eagerly stepped up to the podium. "I've got good news! The final scores are in. Our class came in third overall!"

"Whoa!" Everyone cheered and applauded.

Fang Zhuo set down her pen as well.

The homeroom teacher beamed. Looking at the bunch of troublemakers before her, she suddenly found every one of them unexpectedly lovable. It was the best result her class had ever achieved since she'd become their teacher, something truly worth celebrating. She might have lost the 800-meter bonus, but the class prize money more than made up for it!

"You all did an amazing job this year! Our class had the highest acceptance rate for broadcast submissions, and that earned us a lot of points!" She praised everyone generously before continuing, "And special thanks goes to Fang Zhuo. The 1500-meter race counted for double points, and she's the only student in our class who's ever won gold in that event!"

With everyone's attention turning toward her, Fang Zhuo lowered her head and quietly waited for the topic to move on. She always wore the same calm, detached expression regardless of praise or criticism, and in the excitement, no one noticed anything unusual.

"And our relay team! The boys' relay also took first place! This year..." The homeroom teacher suddenly frowned, looking around the classroom. "Wait. Where are the relay runners? Why aren't they back yet?"

No one answered.

"Class monitor? Where are they?"

The class monitor played dumb. "No idea."

The teacher laughed in exasperation. "You didn't know? Then why didn't you say something during attendance?!"

She felt that with these wild mood swings, she was never going to make it through menopause.

"Musi, call Yan Lie and ask where they are."

Afraid it was some kind of trap, Shen Musi immediately feigned innocence. "I don't have a phone."

The teacher clicked her tongue. "Enough already. Stop wasting time and make the call."

Grumbling pitifully, Shen Musi took out his phone, found Yan Lie's number, and silently added another debt to Yan Lie's growing tab.

Before the call could connect, the missing group in question returned.

Yan Lie and the others trudged through the classroom's back door looking dusty, soaked, and thoroughly bedraggled. Their clothes and hair dripped with rainwater, yet they carried themselves with arrogant gaits, like conquering warlords returning from a victorious campaign.

With admirable self-awareness, Yan Lie stood against the wall. His voice, however, was loud and almost self-righteous as he called out, "Reporting!"

The homeroom teacher narrowed her eyes. "Where have you been?"

"Playing basketball." Yan Lie casually pointed behind him before adding with exaggerated helplessness, "The class next door insisted on dragging us into a game. We couldn't exactly refuse. For the honor of our class, we accepted."

Zhao Jiayou's nose was swollen and bright red. Every breath made him wince, though he was trying very hard to pretend it was just from the cold. He sniffed once, and a stream of blood immediately trickled from his nose. Completely oblivious, he proudly raised his hand. "Reporting, Teacher! We won!"

The homeroom teacher pointed at him furiously. "You. Shut up! Go to the infirmary!"

Zhao Jiayou blinked. "Huh?"

Yan Lie looked at him approvingly. "You actually look kind of cool right now."

Bashful, Zhao Jiayou scratched his head. "Really?"

He wiped his nose with the back of his hand and finally noticed the blood smeared across it. Just as he froze in shock, Fang Zhuo silently held out a packet of tissues.

"Thanks." Zhao Jiayou pulled out two tissues, wiping away both the blood and the rainwater from his face. "This is totally normal in basketball. Just a little contact. Unlike those guys next door. They like catching the ball with their faces."

Fang Zhuo tilted her head slightly, looking at him without blinking.

Her unwavering gaze inflated Zhao Jiayou's confidence to ridiculous levels. Mistaking it for admiration, he was just about to say a few more heroic-sounding lines when the homeroom teacher marched over, grabbed his ear, and dragged him toward the door.

"Ow! Wait!" Zhao Jiayou hunched over in disgrace, yelping in pain. "Teacher! My dear Liu-jie! I was wrong, I was wrong! I'm going now!"

After kicking Zhao Jiayou off to the infirmary, the rest of the boys quickly raised their hands to swear they weren't injured at all. The homeroom teacher simply dismissed class early and ordered everyone to go shower and change immediately.

She chose not to pursue whether they'd actually been playing basketball or getting into a fight. She understood that conflicts happened among teenagers, and she trusted Yan Lie and his friends to know where the line was. Still, after the students dispersed, she shot Yan Lie a warning glare before heading to Class 3 to find out exactly what had happened.

Class 2's homeroom teacher was also at her wit's end. When Fang Zhuo walked down the corridor carrying her jacket, she happened to glance through the neighboring classroom's window.

Only then did she understand exactly what Zhao Jiayou had meant by 'catching the ball with their faces.'

Bai Lufei sat there with bruises blooming across his swollen face, head lowered in utter dejection. The others beside him looked far less battered, though none of them seemed particularly spirited.

Sensing someone outside, Bai Lufei instinctively looked toward the window.

Fang Zhuo had already walked away.

***

It was the final evening self-study session before the National Day holiday.

Having cleaned themselves up, Yan Lie and the others looked presentable again. The moment they returned to class, they resumed making noise as though nothing had happened. Even so, after being drenched in the rain, none of them seemed quite as energetic as usual.

When Fang Zhuo arrived, Yan Lie was lying across his desk, staring blankly ahead with an unusually vacant expression.

Even after she sat down, he barely reacted, making Fang Zhuo wonder whether today's confrontation with Bai Lufei had happened because of her.

It would be unbearably embarrassing if she was simply imagining things. Wasn't that one of life's classic misconceptions?

She didn't dwell on it for long before firmly pushing the thought out of her mind.

The class monitor wandered over and stopped behind Yan Lie, chatting with someone nearby. Mid-sentence, he suddenly sniffed the air. "What's that smell?"

He leaned toward Yan Lie, then took another sniff toward the front of the room. Unable to locate the source, he shoved Shen Musi accusingly. "Cake. It's you, isn't it? What's that smell?"

Shen Musi protested indignantly. "Why are you blaming me? I'm not the only person here!"

For the briefest moment, Fang Zhuo tensed.

Her grip on her pen tightened, leaving a long scratch across the paper. She recovered almost immediately, though, taking only a quiet breath.

Yan Lie opened his half-lidded eyes, his gaze shifting from her fingers to her face. Sitting up, he sniffed the air as well before smiling. "Mmm... smells nice. What laundry detergent do you use?"

Fang Zhuo answered a beat too slowly. "Diao."

"Diao?" Yan Lie blinked. "They make laundry detergent too?"

A girl in the front row turned around and rolled her eyes. "She means Diao Brand soap. Seriously, if you boys are going to flirt, could you at least come up with a better opening? What's next? Going to ask how she hangs her laundry?"

Yan Lie hadn't even had the chance to continue ans she'd already written the rest of the conversation for him.

Laughing, he shot back, "Who asked you to teach me how to flirt?"

Ignoring Shen Musi's increasingly desperate protests, the class monitor dug through the storage compartment beneath his desk and triumphantly pulled out a bag of spicy strips. "And you said it wasn't you! How old are these snacks?!"

"Huh?" Even Shen Musi looked confused. "I probably hid them so Lie Lie wouldn't steal them."

Yan Lie smacked him lightly on the head. "Who wants your spicy strips!"

Under the class monitor's watchful supervision, Shen Musi reluctantly threw them away before being forced to empty the rest of his desk as well.

Watching him bustle around while grumbling nonstop, Fang Zhuo gradually found her attention drifting.

Bai Lufei's words had stirred up memories she'd rather have left buried. Her reaction earlier had been stronger than she'd expected, almost enough to make her lose her composure.

That wouldn't do.

None of it mattered anymore. There was no reason to keep looking back.

A pair of knuckles tapped lightly against her desk.

Fang Zhuo slowly turned her head and heard Yan Lie ask with a grin, "How's Little Baldy doing?"

Fang Zhuo blinked. "Who?"

"My chick-en mascot!" Yan Lie cried dramatically. "Don't tell me it died?!"

After two seconds of silence, Fang Zhuo replied, "It's doing fine."

"That's good." Yan Lie exhaled in relief. His voice softened. "When you get home, could you send me a picture of it?"

"No."

The refusal came without the slightest hesitation.

MMS were expensive. Spending money just to send a photo of a chicken?

Absolutely not.

Yan Lie clearly hadn't expected such a decisive rejection. Looking mildly disappointed, he idly tapped the desk before asking anyway, "Why not?"

Fang Zhuo looked back at him. "Are you also home alone for the national holiday?"

Yan Lie nodded. "Yeah."

She really wasn't thinking clearly today.

The invitation slipped out before she'd even worked through the logic behind it. What came out sounded very much like a blatantly transparent attempt at an invitation: "Then why don't you come see for yourself?"

Yan Lie froze. For a moment, he simply stared at her, unable to process what she'd said.

Fang Zhuo kept her eyes open, wavering over whether she should explain herself.

Before she'd reached a conclusion, Yan Lie answered first.

"Okay!"

As though afraid she'd change her mind, he hurriedly added, "What time tomorrow?"

There were no classes scheduled for the next day. The teachers would assign all the holiday homework that evening, and students could decide for themselves when to leave campus.

"A little earlier," Fang Zhuo said. "Let's meet at eight. We'll have breakfast in the cafeteria first."

Yan Lie immediately pulled out his phone and set an alarm. Then he remembered they had no convenient way to contact each other. "Whoever gets there first can wait downstairs outside the dorms. Sound good?” 

---

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