Chapter Sixty-Six: With Whom Can I Share

"I'm not afraid of hardship," Dong Yanyan turned to look at him, "I'm only afraid that my efforts will have nowhere to rest. Sometimes, I truly feel powerless—there are so many things I can't change, no matter how hard I try. Like fate, like destiny, like illness and death. I never used to believe in ghosts or gods; now, looking back, it feels as ridiculous as Westerners not believing in God. I don't believe in fate, but it's still there, and everything you've worked for, everything you've struggled for over the years, it can wipe away with a mere gesture. Sometimes, I'm even afraid that this time and space, everything before me, everything I'm desperate to hold onto, could vanish in the next second. That feeling drives me mad."

"That doesn't sound like you—it's too pessimistic. In my mind, you've always been a smart, confident, and opinionated girl," Lin Feng said with a smile.

"Is that so?" Dong Yanyan gazed at the swirling snow outside the window, her smile tinged with bitterness. "I know you think I'm unreliable, and I understand. It's like how I know you're not someone to confide in, but I still want to talk to you; it's like in your eyes, I'm just another friendly passerby, but in mine, there's a distance between us that can't be bridged. That distance makes me uncomfortable, yet I can't do anything about it."

"You're wrong—I like listening to you. I don't think there should be any distance between us; you're just making a simple problem complicated." Lin Feng lowered his head to look at her, sighing so softly it was barely audible. "You weren't like this when you first came here. Back then, you laughed every day, as if there was nothing troubling you. But lately, you seem less and less happy, and I don't even know what you're thinking about."

"Honestly, I haven't felt any real happiness these past six months," Dong Yanyan said, her voice drifting, her smile bitter. "I'm different from you all—you're weaving your futures, your dreams, so you're full of hope and can freely seek joy. But me—I once had a long, long dream, and now all I'm doing is trying to recover that dream, piece by piece. Every step here is so familiar, yet every step feels like walking on thin ice. I want to change my ending, but I'm afraid that in the process, I'll make everything unrecognizable, or perhaps take one wrong step and fall who knows where. I really wish I had a real shoulder to lean on, so I could feel that I truly exist. But I can't find one."

She turned to find Lin Feng staring at her in astonishment, his eyes full of surprise.

Dong Yanyan lowered her head and whispered, "I don't need you to understand, but saying it out loud makes me feel better. Please don't tell anyone."

Lin Feng's handsome brows gradually knitted together. He turned his head gently, remaining silent for a while before managing a bitter smile. "No, I do understand. Because someone else once said the same thing to me."

Now it was Dong Yanyan's turn to be dumbfounded. His words were like a pebble tossed into stagnant water—he hadn't used much strength, yet the ripples in her heart were enough to stir up a storm. Suddenly, she remembered that when she first started school, someone had written something on the blackboard. That person might have been her kindred spirit, though they hadn't yet had the chance to recognize each other.

In the next moment, she grabbed his hand, her voice trembling with excitement as she pressed him, "Who said that? Was it a classmate of ours? Someone from your dorm? Who was it, tell me!"

Lin Feng was clearly stunned, then he pulled his hand away forcefully, holding her shoulders, which were shaking with agitation, and pushed her back into her chair. Dong Yanyan, eyes red, looked at him urgently. "Tell me—it's really important to me, Lin Feng. It truly matters. Please, tell me who it was."

"I didn't realize it was so important to you. Yanyan, there's someone in our dorm who has always liked you, but... but he doesn't know how to say it, so—"

"What are you saying?" Dong Yanyan's gaze dimmed, the hope in her heart slowly extinguished. So, what he meant was completely different from what she'd imagined. He'd been talking with her all this time, only to act as someone else's messenger.

Lin Feng saw her lower her head in silence and tentatively asked, "Are you angry?"

"Was it you?" Dong Yanyan asked softly, biting her lip.

"Huh? No—" Lin Feng was at a loss for words.

"Then let him tell me himself!" Dong Yanyan said coldly, suddenly standing up, kicking away her chair, and leaving. She couldn't stay here another moment—maybe the next second she'd burst into tears.

Lin Feng chased her into the corridor, grabbing her arm anxiously, "No, Yanyan, listen to me—"

Dong Yanyan's mind was in turmoil; she didn't want to hear another word from him. She shook him off fiercely and ran downstairs, only to crash headlong into Yang Xiaohai, who was coming up. Yang Xiaohai grabbed her arm with a grin. "What's wrong? I was just looking for you!"

Lin Feng reached the stairwell, saw Yang Xiaohai, paused, then silently turned and went upstairs.

Dong Yanyan, still fuming, stopped and glared at Yang Xiaohai. "If you have something to say, say it!"

"I want to go to the stadium to buy a set of ping-pong paddles. Come with me," Yang Xiaohai said with a roguish smile.

"Are you crazy? Buying ping-pong paddles in this weather? Aren't you afraid of freezing to death?" Dong Yanyan snapped.

"But everyone else has them except me. They won't let me play," Yang Xiaohai pointed to the group playing ping-pong on the first floor, looking pitiful.

"Fine, let's go!"

*

All the way, Dong Yanyan walked ahead in silence, her face dark, while Yang Xiaohai wrapped tightly in his coat, followed closely behind. The snow was falling harder, turning the world white and dazzling. Dong Yanyan stopped to rub her eyes.

Yang Xiaohai almost bumped into her, unable to stop in time.

"Watch where you're going! You nearly ran into me!" Dong Yanyan brushed the snow from her clothes, irritated.

"Who are you angry at?" Yang Xiaohai looked at her innocently. "Is it Lin Feng?"

"None of your business!" Dong Yanyan shot him a glare.

Yang Xiaohai tilted his head and stared at her for a long time before hesitantly asking, "You really don't care anymore?"

That one question chilled Dong Yanyan's heart—he obviously knew everything, just playing dumb.

"Who are you?" she retorted.

Yang Xiaohai laughed awkwardly, scratching his head.

"Yang Xiaohai, let me ask you: did you give that letter to Lin Feng or not?" Dong Yanyan stared at him.

"Huh? What letter? I don't know anything about it," Yang Xiaohai replied, feigning confusion.

Dong Yanyan turned away with a bitter smile. She knew he would pretend ignorance again. In truth, she knew the letter wouldn't change anything, but what hurt was how she'd foolishly treated him as a friend for years. She had told him everything, but he had trampled her trust so carelessly. She knew he was not the most conscientious person, but what he did was simply despicable.

What she once thought was the most precious friendship shattered completely and unexpectedly, and it left her in pain.

She sighed, coldly saying, "From now on, don't meddle in my affairs."

Yang Xiaohai was surprised, staring at her in a daze.

"I mean it. My business is none of your concern. We're not close. We're not friends. The word ‘friend’ isn't that cheap." With that, Dong Yanyan turned and ran off.

The stadium was so large; she took two turns and stopped behind a stone base, leaning against its cold surface as she futilely wiped away unshed tears.

Xu Cheng was right. She had stubbornly believed that true friendship could exist between men and women—like her and Yang Xiaohai. Yang Xiaohai was unattractive, idle, not her type, but they'd always been best friends, playing together, looking after each other. He never interfered with her relationship with Xu Cheng; in fact, she was the matchmaker for his girlfriend. Whenever she told Xu Cheng about this, Xu Cheng would just smile. Until one day, long after their marriage, Xu Cheng let slip, "Yanyan, do you really not know or are you pretending? Yang Xiaohai has always liked you. Even after we got together, he secretly asked me to let you go to him. I refused, because I knew no one could treat you better than I could."

She hadn't believed it then. How could someone like someone so much—without confessing, without giving, without making promises—just taking advantage of her, even blocking others from treating her well?

Those four years, she let him copy her homework, her exam papers; he was into stamp collecting, and he’d shamelessly tear off any stamp she liked. Every time he spent all his money watching football, he’d come to her for meal tickets. She treated him as a friend and always worried about him, even helped him deliver love letters to that girl in the other class. Yet he would use her as a shield, making her feel awkward and out of place. She thought it was nothing—wasn’t friendship about going to any lengths for each other? What she hadn’t realized was, it was always him stabbing her in the back; the troubles were hers, the benefits his.

The only thing he did for her was listen when she was sad. She’d been so naïve then, thinking having someone to listen was the greatest comfort. She hadn’t realized that, if not for him, maybe she wouldn’t have experienced heartbreak.

If he could say those things to Xu Cheng, he could say the same to Lin Feng. Lin Feng always helped his friends, no matter what they asked, and this was probably trivial to him. Even today, he’d wanted to act as someone’s proxy.

She’d spent years calling others idiots, only to realize she was the real fool. No wonder Xu Cheng called her silly. He said, "You treat everyone so well; after graduation, after separation, who besides me still cares about you?"

It was nothing but misplaced affection.

"My life is like a tea table, covered with cups and plates—a tragedy. It’d be better if I had nothing at all! I don’t care! Who the hell cares about love and friendship with you little brats?! Hmph! Damn it, heaven, you think I’m not miserable enough? Playing with people shouldn’t be this cruel!" She muttered as she stubbornly wiped her tears, staring at the blank, white sky, anger rising with her courage.

"Who upset you now? If you’re really so aggrieved, at least pretend to be delicate and pitiful, like a willow in the wind with tearful eyes. Look at you, cursing under your breath. Tsk, tsk." Ren Jiaxuan appeared from behind the stone, dressed in a white down jacket with white earmuffs, looking like a polar bear.

"I don’t have the habit of pretending to be fragile or pitiful. Besides, I don’t think teary eyes are all that cute. When I want to cry, I just look up at the sky; that way, the tears fall into my heart and not my face. Right now, my heart is full of tears, cold and crisp, freezing and cracking. You wouldn’t know it," Dong Yanyan stubbornly lifted her head to the sky. Snowflakes fell into her eyes, melting into water, cold. She quickly wiped them away.