Time rushed forward quickly. Without the pressure from the Mistress Extinction, I finally felt that life at school could be this easygoing.
Bai Manwen was late in dismissing the class by over ten minutes as usual. Although the students were clearly dissatisfied, they were somewhat used to this typical behavior from the "old hag" and just waited patiently.
A crowd had gathered at the classroom door—students from other classes waiting for their friends to finish. Whether they were going home together or hitting the internet cafe, that was their business.
"Class dismissed."
Finally, the long-awaited words arrived. For students eager to go home, these two words were as sweet as heavenly music, signifying their freedom.
The Mistress Extinction organized the teaching materials on the podium, subtly glancing toward a certain seat in the classroom. She knew about the injury on his arm, and though she was curious, she also felt a sense of vindication in her heart.
Even now, she sometimes felt a strange sensation in her chest. The abuse from that day felt vivid, and every time she remembered it, she gritted her teeth in hatred.
She was staring intently at my figure when she suddenly noticed that I was about to turn my head. She quickly lowered her eyes, stopped looking, gathered her things, and clacked out of the classroom on her high heels.
"Hmm?"
I looked up, thoughtfully watching Bai Manwen's retreating figure. I thought I saw her staring at me just now. Watching her leave, I felt her steps weren't as steady as before. It must be thanks to me.
I smiled involuntarily. I never thought the Mistress Extinction could look so flustered.
Then, I suddenly thought of something: Has Teacher Li Yue woken up yet? Once she wakes up, Bai Manwen will surely face accusations. But that hasn't happened, as Bai Manwen is still teaching here, which felt a bit strange.
I instinctively asked the person next to me, "Xiaoyu, has Teacher Li Yue woken up?"
I didn't get a response. Feeling annoyed, I turned my head to see what this kid was up to, but seeing only his profile, I suddenly remembered that he and I were still in a cold war. Why would he talk to me?
I swallowed my annoyance and shut up.
"She's woken up."
Unexpectedly, a flat voice replied. Liu Xiaoyu answered me but still didn't turn his head.
This kid just loves making me look at his profile. What's the big deal?
But I had to admit, Liu Xiaoyu's profile was extremely beautiful—fair and clear, with delicate features, visible nose, and long eyelashes. Sometimes, when viewed from the side, the light coming through the window cast a soft, ethereal glow on his face. He truly was a beautiful sight.
I stared at his profile, and he deliberately ignored my gaze, allowing me to watch. His cheeks seemed to be slightly puffed out, as if he was pouting in silent protest. The silence between us settled again.
As time passed, the classroom emptied out quickly, leaving only a few people.
I still didn't know how to start. I retracted my gaze.
He didn't speak either.
"Xiaoyu, why aren't you leaving yet?"
A female classmate walked over, smiling at Liu Xiaoyu. Liu Xiaoyu's appeal to girls was always strong. Perhaps due to his appearance, many female classmates were friendly towards him and willing to talk. I had no idea how many girls tried to get his attention privately, but I was sure it was a lot.
"Friend of women"—that was my secret assessment of him. Of course, the one time I said it out loud, he beat me up.
"I'll leave in a bit. Are you heading home?" Liu Xiaoyu looked up and smiled at the classmate carrying her backpack.
"Mhm, then I'll head out now?"
"Okay, see you next week. Oh wait, see you the day after tomorrow." Liu Xiaoyu covered his mouth and chuckled.
"Alright, see you the day after tomorrow, Xiaoyu." The girl smiled back.
She left just like that. Their conversation completely ignored me, treating me like air. I was used to this dynamic, so I said nothing and didn't try to seek attention.
As that girl left, the remaining students gradually trickled out. In no time, the large classroom was empty save for the two of us.
The atmosphere became completely silent. Neither of us seemed willing to break the deadlock first.
After a long silence, I couldn't hold back any longer.
"Liu Xiaoyu, aren't you going to say something?"
He was bent over his textbook, and he didn't turn his head. He countered, "Lin Xiaonan, aren't you going to say something to me?"
I was speechless for a moment, then retorted, "I'm afraid you'll cry again."
Sure enough, his body tensed up at that sentence. He didn't say a word, but he stood up, grabbed his little pig backpack, put his books inside, and made to leave.
I was stunned. I quickly asked, "What are you doing?"
"Mind your own business?"
He glared at me and intended to leave.
Since our seats were against the wall, and he was on the inside, he needed me to get up every time he wanted to get out.
I certainly wasn't going to get up now. I just stayed in my seat, showing no intention of moving.
He stood there, glaring at me, his tone unfriendly: "Move."
"I won't."
I blocked his way and refused to move.
"You..."
He gritted his teeth, looked at me with hatred, and clenched his hands as if he was about to hit me.
"What are you going to do? Are you going to hit me?"
I spoke with a mix of frustration and indignation. His attitude made me inexplicably uncomfortable. I was clearly the victim in this whole affair, yet it constantly felt like I was the one who had done something wrong.
My voice involuntarily deepened, and I spoke softly, "Why are you crying?"
He just stared at me with his blue eyes, silent and still fuming.
"Why are you aggrieved? You don't have a single scratch on you." My tone was full of resentment. I looked into his blue eyes and asked, "You're angry. Why are you angry?"
Liu Xiaoyu still didn't speak.
I couldn't hold my emotions back any longer: "What are you angry about? Are you angry that I took your phone? Or are you angry that you had to accompany me to the hospital?"
His eyes flickered, clearly not as calm as he seemed. His hands were braced on the desks on both sides, his fingers tightly gripping the edges.
"Or, are you angry because I touched your body?"
I took a few deep breaths. I felt something bubbling up inside me, as if something had shattered. I had thought that the last-ranked and second-to-last-ranked were kindred spirits, but now I realized the situation was entirely different. What's wrong? Do you look down on me too?
"Were all those things you said before just lies to yourself?"
My voice cracked and became distorted, the pitch twisting and turning with the surging feeling in my heart, fluctuating just like my current mood.
His eyes reddened again, but he remained silent.
Seeing this, I couldn't help but sigh. I stopped pressing him, stood up, and opened a path for him.
"Your phone, your card, you can take them back anytime you want, as long as you're willing."
I still felt too immature, too unstable, to have said something like that when angry—just to vent.
"What about you?"
Unexpectedly, he didn't bolt out the door. His eyes were red, and his body was slightly trembling.
Instead, he looked up and countered, his blue eyes flashing with an unusual light, and his voice deliberately lowered, as if suppressing the surging emotion in his heart: "Why did you sneak out of the hospital? Why did you leave alone? Did I do something wrong?"
"You didn't do anything wrong. How could you be wrong? The fault is mine." I laughed self-mockingly. I suddenly felt ridiculous that I had been obsessing over such a small thing for so long. Had I really become so pathetic that I needed other people's affection and recognition to survive?
In that moment, I hated my incompetence. Just because Liu Xiaoyu was my only friend and because he had a softer nature, I was hounding him with questions?
It felt like that was all I was capable of. Why couldn't I challenge others instead?
Or, why didn't I heed Luo Fei's words? Why run? Couldn't I fight back?
"What am I, even?"
A huge wave of sadness and loss welled up in my heart. What kind of person am I? Why am I forcing such a kind person like this?
Suddenly, something slid down my face. The cold sensation startled me. I was terrified of my own weakness and immediately turned to flee, to escape my feebleness.
"Where are you going?"
I suddenly felt my arm grabbed. Since it was the bandaged arm, a sharp pain shot through me.
"Let go!"
My voice trembled in a way I couldn't believe.
"No..."
His voice was also starting to sound tearful.
But he didn't let go. Both his hands were gripping my injured arm. A throbbing pain struck me. My emotions were already near their peak, and this added pain was the final trigger. I felt an uncontrollable surge of violence. I raised my hand and pressed it onto his shoulder, about to squeeze, but when I turned, I saw a face streaming with tears.
The description "face like a pear blossom drenched in rain" is meant for girls, but I felt it fit my desk-mate perfectly. His blue eyes were like lakes, pouring out what felt like the tears of a goddess. His entire face was soaked, and he looked heartbreakingly beautiful. I took one look and felt an enormous pang of guilt. My heart instantly softened. I pulled my hand back and let him hold my arm.
"What do you want?"
My voice dropped again, like a restrained beast lowering its head.
"Why are you crying?"
He asked, holding my arm, his voice choked with sobs. I felt profoundly uncomfortable hearing this, especially from a boy. It instantly made me think of myself: Was I also crying like that—so weak and useless? Like when my mother and sister left, my tears only highlighted my weakness and served no other purpose.
"Because of my weakness. I hate my own cowardice. That's why I cry like a woman," my voice was laced with self-contempt and anger at my own failure.
"Why are you crying?" I asked him in return. My voice was gradually calming down, but Liu Xiaoyu's tears continued to fall like a broken string of pearls, showing no sign of stopping.
"I don't know..." Liu Xiaoyu sobbed intermittently.
"I just think about you getting hurt because of me and I want to cry. I see your wounds and I want to cry. I think about the pain you went through and I want to cry..."
His words sliced through my heart like sharp meteors, shocking me and causing incredible pain. I couldn't fathom the reason for his tears. It shook me to the core; his tears were flowing for me.
His body was trembling badly. If he wasn't holding my arm, he might have collapsed onto the floor.
"I think about you not understanding why I cry and I want to cry. I think about you secretly leaving the hospital alone and I want to cry. I think about you being alone in the hospital and I want to cry..."
His voice was very close, low, and laced with sobs as he poured out his heart.
This gave me a unique feeling. It seemed that, since childhood, he was the only person besides my sister who had ever poured out a long stream of words to me—complaints, tears, sharing happy or unhappy things, softly, gently, whispering a long monologue into my ear. Whether it was happy, sad, or painful, at least one person was willing to share these things with me.
Since my sister became distant, I hadn't experienced this feeling. Now, it had returned.
I looked at his tear-filled face, and an inexplicable feeling of pity and tenderness welled up in my heart. In an instant, I reached out and hugged him.
I didn't know what to say. I just felt how utterly ridiculous I had been. I didn't even know where my temper tantrums came from, and I had carelessly hurt someone who truly cared for me. I was unbelievable.
I felt a cold wetness spreading across my chest. His hands finally released my arm and instead clutched the edge of my clothes, venting his emotions.
Listening to his sobs, I felt increasingly self-reproachful. Everyone is unique and one-of-a-kind. Why did I always judge Liu Xiaoyu based on my own way of thinking?
I felt tears streaming down my own face again and quickly wiped them away with a tissue.
"I'm sorry. It's my fault. I was just overthinking everything."
I apologized softly. Sure enough, his sobs seemed to grow louder, and the wet patch on my shirt grew larger.
I sighed gently and could only continue to apologize. I didn't know if he would forgive me, but I had paid a price for my own inferiority and self-pity. The price was potentially losing this rare and precious friendship. I felt lost and helpless, just as I had when my mother and sister left, not knowing how to save the relationship.
But at least I had made a little progress this time: I had been brave enough to apologize.