Chapter Eighty-Eight: Let Go of That Young Man

Dong Yanyan ran all the way to the school gate, but waiting for her was not Song Mingcheng, it was Xu Cheng. Normally, this wouldn’t matter, but she had just dreamed such a dream, and now the protagonist of that dream stood before her. Though he could not yet be equated with his self fifteen years in the future, the feeling left her awkward all the same.

Thinking about it, he was much more fortunate. Her life had once included him, so she felt conflicted and troubled, but to him, she was only a passerby, a blank page. He carried no shadow, no pressure, and would not grieve on her behalf. Reality proved she was not suited for him after all. Better to let him go—he was still just a child.

“Did Song Mingcheng send you? Finally free, that guy,” she half-joked.

Xu Cheng smiled. “I came on my own. I want to get familiar with the route first.”

“It’s actually not necessary to come so early. My area isn’t big—walk it two or three days and you’ll know it well.” Dong Yanyan laughed, “But since you’re here, let’s get started!”

She knew Xu Cheng was different from Song Mingcheng. Song Mingcheng always dropped her off downstairs and never bothered further; Xu Cheng, on the other hand, followed her up floor by floor. She pointed out the markings she’d made, and after a few buildings, he grew familiar with the routine. When the floors were high, he’d check the user map and deliver the items himself, letting Dong Yanyan wait below. He knew how to look after girls—this was how a boy should behave. Dong Yanyan found herself both relaxed and a little melancholy.

Some people are born into good families, shielded from hardship, naturally cared for and cherished, sailing smoothly through life, like Ren Jiaxuan. Others lack good families and financial means and don’t have good tempers, yet possess good popularity and luck. With effort, they thrive, like Song Mingcheng. Some have nothing—good temper but no good family; good popularity but no luck. No matter how smart or hard-working, they cannot escape hardship, like Xu Cheng.

Thus, the rule of “you reap what you sow” isn’t always true. In this world, how well one lives depends on luck; the height of your starting point is decided the day you’re born.

*

After seven o’clock, Dong Yanyan returned to her dorm. Her roommates had already finished dinner and were preparing to head to morning study. Seeing the time, she didn’t bother eating, just quickly changed clothes and grabbed her food container, running to the classroom—she was used to eating only after the second period.

Returning to her seat, she found a white insulated tumbler placed on her desk, with a note beneath it. She picked up the note and saw a simple message:

Yanyan:
I ordered fresh milk for you. Don’t forget to thank me after you drink it.
Jiaxuan

Last night she had mentioned that fresh milk was better than the bagged kind. Did he really go to the milk station early this morning to order it? Puzzled, Dong Yanyan finished the milk, feeling warm and comfortable, then turned to see Song Mingcheng watching her with a half-smile.

“Desk mate, you’re in a beautiful mood today!” she laughed cheerfully.

“I was about to say the same to you, but you beat me to it.” Song Mingcheng bit his pen with slight disappointment, then buried himself in his advanced math problems.

After study period, Dong Yanyan, clutching her tumbler and a small bottle of translucent rose jam, went to knock on the broadcasting class door. Ren Jiaxuan emerged, face aglow with a smile. Taking the tumbler, he leaned against the door, grinning, “Where did you run off to so early? I went to your dorm this morning, but before I could say a word, they chased me out. Are your roommates sick or something? Why are they mad about you dating?”

“That’s because those lazybones in my dorm hadn’t gotten up yet, and you woke them. Who else could they vent at? The milk was delicious, thank you.” Dong Yanyan smiled.

“I’m glad you liked it! That rose jam in your hand is for me, right? Come over, let’s eat it together!” Ren Jiaxuan affectionately pulled her to his seat, opened the glass jar, tried a spoonful, and fed her a bite.

Dong Yanyan felt a bit uneasy, frowning, “Isn’t this a bit much? Are all the rumors I’ve heard false?”

“Hm? What rumors now?” Ren Jiaxuan slung an arm around her shoulder, smiling.

Dong Yanyan shot a dissatisfied glance at his arm, muttering, “I distinctly heard you never get affectionate with girlfriends at school. Isn’t this improper?”

Ren Jiaxuan grinned mischievously, showing his white teeth, “That’s because all my previous girlfriends weren’t from our school. We’re close now, so why go out of our way? Proximity has its advantages, doesn’t it?”

“Rumors are always so full-bodied, reality so skinny. My dream soap bubble just burst.” Dong Yanyan stood up, patting his shoulder in disappointment. “Take your time eating, I’m going back to cry for a bit.”

Ren Jiaxuan’s face instantly darkened; sensing trouble, Dong Yanyan nimbly jumped up, dashed back to her classroom in a few swift steps. Ren Jiaxuan jumped up to chase her, catching her only when she reached her seat. He grinned wickedly, about to pounce, but was suddenly grabbed by Song Mingcheng.

“Hey, you—”

Song Mingcheng discreetly pointed at the podium. Only then did Ren Jiaxuan realize that Teacher Ma was at the blackboard writing. Teacher Ma turned around and caught sight of him.

“Sorry, wrong classroom,” Ren Jiaxuan straightened up, explaining seriously, and then slipped out quickly.

Teacher Ma looked at him, then at the students, suddenly slapped his forehead and asked in confusion, “Isn’t this the third floor? Why is it your class? Is this a Chinese class?”

“Teacher, this is the second floor,” the students replied in unison, laughing.

“Why didn’t you remind me?” Teacher Ma said, half laughing, half crying. At that moment, Teacher Guo came in with his teaching materials, surprised to see her, “Isn’t this the second floor? Did I go to the wrong floor?” He was about to leave.

“No, Teacher Guo, I went into the wrong room. Please come in and teach.” Teacher Ma smiled awkwardly, picked up her materials, and left.

Teacher Guo chuckled, put down his materials, and said, “Early morning, brains aren’t awake yet. Everyone, turn your books to page thirty-five. Song Mingcheng, come up and clean the blackboard!”

*

On Wednesday afternoon, Dong Yanyan and Xinran went to the library to read. She chose a seat by the window—her favorite spot, close to the heater, where she could leaf through magazines when tired from studying or watch the boys playing basketball outside.

“Look, Teacher Liu Qing is playing basketball!” Dong Yanyan nudged Xinran’s arm and whispered.

Xinran glanced outside, then lowered her head to continue reading.

Dong Yanyan was at a loss: true, it was unrealistic for a sixteen-year-old girl to fall for a teacher five years her senior; but why didn’t she have a teacher-crush herself? She remembered liking her handsome language and PE teachers in junior high, so the path of student-teacher romance was clearly not for her.

“Hey, Qiu Dong’s out there too! He looks so cool playing basketball!” Dong Yanyan added.

Xinran glanced outside again, “Amateur level; he’s not even a main player in their class. Liu Qiang’s better.”

“Haha, I agree, Liu Qiang plays well,” Dong Yanyan laughed.

Xinran didn’t even look up this time, just pursed her lips, “Liu Qiang? Just a kid, clueless.”

Dong Yanyan sighed deeply, speaking gently, “Little sister, what kind of boy do you like? Give me a target at least. Don’t tell me you’re sixteen and haven’t awakened to romance yet—you should have. Whoever you fancy, your big sis will help you get him!”

“There’s not a single good-looking boy in our class. Song Mingcheng is just average,” Xinran replied offhandedly.

Dong Yanyan nearly exploded, “Fine, fairy sister, none of these common mortals at school are worthy of you. Go for Andy Lau then—though you’ll probably think he’s not tall enough and a bit old, right?”

Xinran looked up timidly, “Are you angry?”

Dong Yanyan was struck by her innocent gaze, feeling a tingle in her heart, “Little sister, you’re not into me, are you? Girls liking girls never ends well.”

“What are you saying? I’ll tell you, but don’t let anyone know,” Xinran whispered.

“Alright, I promise not to tell,” Dong Yanyan nodded quickly. She knew Xinran was shy; back then, she never told anyone who she liked. Luckily she pressed the issue this time—finally some insider info! She felt a bit excited.

Xinran leaned in and whispered a few words. Dong Yanyan’s face changed instantly, and she murmured, “No way! He has a girlfriend, almost married!” Xinran’s crush was another young teacher at school—Qin Tong, a top graduate from Beijing Broadcasting. He only taught broadcasting classes, so they rarely met. Dong Yanyan wondered how Xinran had fallen for him.

Turns out she did have a teacher-crush, just for the wrong person—sweat...

Xinran, hearing her response, looked down like a child who’d done something wrong and stayed silent.

Dong Yanyan felt a pang of guilt, so she hugged her shoulders and smiled, “What do you like about him? I never saw him as that outstanding. You’re not just drawn to his looks, are you?”

Xinran hesitated, then nodded.

Dong Yanyan was at her wit’s end: teenagers care most about appearances, and Teacher Qin Tong wasn’t exceptionally handsome—just had a scholarly air, refined demeanor, and a dazzling, charming smile, but also gave off a sense of distance, not easy to approach.

So, she liked that type. But his girlfriend was a cheerful, generous, beautiful woman with a great job. Xinran wasn’t even in the same league.

“I actually like him too. Seeing his smile always brightens my mood,” Dong Yanyan laughed. “Lots of girls in broadcasting love him and his classes. I used to crush on handsome teachers who taught me, but later found even more handsome ones to like. Everyone loves beauty—it’s not love, so don’t take it to heart. It’s normal. You’ll grow out of it.”

Xinran smiled and nodded, though there was a hint of loss in her eyes.