Several minutes passed before Xie Mingjun finally showed up in the group chat.
Xie Mingjun: [Class is over, pack your stuff.]
Dong Yin looked at her phone, then glanced sideways at Xie Mingjun.
Liar.
There were still ten minutes left before the bell.
If she weren’t sitting right next to her, Dong Yin might have believed it—she’d almost been fooled.
Just now, Chu Ning’an had tagged Xie Mingjun in the group. At first, Xie stared at her screen for a few seconds, then deliberately turned her phone away so Dong Yin couldn’t see. She propped her head up with one hand and tilted her face up to stare at the big teaching screen.
In the middle of that, she turned her head and met Dong Yin’s eyes. Her lips parted slightly, as if she was going to say something.
Dong Yin leaned in, ear tilted toward her, waiting.
“Don’t get so close to me,” Xie Mingjun said.
“Oh,” Dong Yin answered.
She didn’t call Xie out on the lie. She was just really curious—why would Xie dream about her doing yoga? Did she… really want to see her doing yoga?
With that ridiculous thought in her head, Dong Yin glanced down at her phone again. Chu Ning’an and Lu Hanqiu were already talking about where to eat. It was the first time Dong Yin realized that Xie actually had two close friends. From the time she’d first heard of someone like “Xie Mingjun,” all she’d ever heard was that Xie had a bad temper and seemed like a loner.
Dong Yin was a loner too, but it was completely different. Xie just didn’t like hanging out with people, icy and distant. As for Dong Yin—no one wanted to hang out with her.
The bell finally rang. Xie stuck her pen in her book, picked it up, and left without a backward glance. Dong Yin hurriedly shoved her notebook into her bag and followed after her.
The corridor buzzed with the shrill clamour of the bell and the noise of people leaving. Dong Yin walked with her shoulder close to the wall, the two of them filing out of the building one behind the other.
The harsh afternoon sun had passed. It wasn’t as scorching as before, but all the heat it had stored up over the day still clung to the air, making everything feel stuffy and suffocating. Xie probably felt hot too; she stopped in the main hall, found a patch of shade, and kept fanning herself with a book.
Dong Yin walked over and stood beside her.
“I’m gonna steal some of your wind,” she said softly.
The corner of Xie’s mouth twitched into the hint of a smile. Dong Yin’s way of putting it amused her a little. She kept fanning.
The little wisps of hair by Dong Yin’s forehead fluttered in the breeze. She asked, “Are you waiting for someone?”
“Mhm,” Xie replied.
Dong Yin wasn’t much of a talker. Starting conversations wasn’t her strong suit, so she pulled out her phone again, sneaking peeks at what Xie was saying to her friends.
Chu Ning’an: [Xie Mingjun, we’re already at the east gate of your school. Didn’t you guys finish class early? Why are there still so many people on the road?]
Chu Ning’an: [She hasn’t left yet, right? Perfect, let me see what she looks like! I’m dying of curiosity.]
Dong Yin froze for a second.
They wanted to see what she looked like?
Panic crept up on her all at once.
Xie’s friends were definitely on her level—probably just as pretty as she was. Dong Yin’s inferiority complex climbed right back up from wherever it had been hiding.
The tiles under her feet suddenly felt hotter and hotter, like they were burning through the soles of her shoes. She couldn’t stay still. She shuffled two steps forward, her toe nudging the edge of the steps, and tested a step down.
Xie had her head down, typing on her phone.
Xie Mingjun: [Do what you want, but you probably won’t see her. She’s going to bolt in a bit.]
Chu Ning’an: [Why?]
Xie Mingjun: [She’s a coward.]
Chu Ning’an: [No way. She dared to flirt with you, she can’t be that timid. Ask her if she wants to come eat with us?]
Xie didn’t ask. She didn’t say a word out loud.
Chu Ning’an was the enthusiastic type; in the group, she replied the fastest.
Chu Ning’an: [Just tell her to come along. Think of it as a test. See if it’s because you don’t get to see her that you keep dreaming about her.]
Xie Mingjun: [Where are you even getting this from?]
Chu Ning’an: [Lu Hanqiu said it. You think about someone by day, you dream about them by night.]
Xie Mingjun: [?]
Xie Mingjun: [You talk too much.]
Chu Ning’an: [Make sure you keep her there. We’re almost there.]
Xie Mingjun: [Can’t keep her. She has legs. She runs fast.]
And she was right.
Dong Yin was only planning to stand here for a bit. She was fully prepared to run. She was terrified of strangers—terrified of dealing with them, and even more terrified of being looked over and judged by them.
She counted down the time in her head as she slowly stepped down a few steps. When she got to the last one, her foot hovered in the air for a long time without landing. She turned her head to glance at Xie.
Xie’s eyebrows were slightly raised, like she’d already predicted exactly what Dong Yin would do.
Dong Yin’s toes tapped the ground, then she spun and ran back up the stairs, stopping in front of Xie again.
“I’m just… playing at hopping down the steps,” she said.
“I know,” Xie replied calmly.
“Oh,” Dong Yin said.
A few seconds passed. She couldn’t hold it in and asked, “Really?”
Did Xie really think she was just playing on the steps? Wasn’t she the one who’d just said in the group that she was going to run away? Now she’d come back—how could Xie not be even a little surprised?
“Or what?” Xie frowned slightly.
In reality, she had her phone in her hand, finger pressed on the message she’d sent. She stared at the little popup that appeared—there was no “recall” option. She exhaled sideways in frustration.
A few minutes later, a car pulled up in front of the school.
As soon as the door swung open, two girls climbed out. One wore a black camisole and had her hair in a high ponytail. The other wore a white shirt, her hair cut to shoulder-length, and looked much quieter. They were both really pretty—completely different types of beauties.
Dong Yin guessed instantly that the one in black was probably Chu Ning’an. She just had that talkative vibe—she hopped out of the car and immediately waved enthusiastically at Xie.
“Mingjun, decided where we’re eating yet?”
As she spoke, she shut the car door, then caught sight of Dong Yin and let out a soft “wow.”
The girl in the white shirt was much quieter. She got out and didn’t say much, her gaze calm as it swept casually over Dong Yin once.
Dong Yin’s hands suddenly didn’t know where to go. On reflex, she wanted to grab her backpack straps, and her feet had no idea what they were supposed to be doing either.
“This is your friend, right, Xie Mingjun?” Dong Yin asked, pretending she didn’t already know the answer. As soon as the words left her mouth, she bit her tongue. She really wasn’t good at talking.
“Mhm,” Xie said.
Dong Yin grew anxious. By all logic, Xie should tell her to go now—then she could say “okay” and run away as fast as she could.
“So you guys… are going to eat now?” Dong Yin’s voice was barely audible. She was asking for Xie’s opinion, her toes feeling for the edge of the steps again. Holding out until Xie’s friends arrived was already incredibly brave for her. She just hoped they wouldn’t get a bad impression of her.
As long as Xie said “mm,” she could sprint a hundred meters away at any moment.
Instead, Xie opened her mouth and said, “What, are you scared?”
“I…” Dong Yin quietly pulled her foot back. She felt like this person was so hard to understand. First she didn’t want her near, and now she was asking if she was scared. Dong Yin used her tiniest voice to say the bravest words:
“I’m not scared.”
The two of them muttered back and forth for a while, but from below, neither Chu Ning’an nor Lu Hanqiu could hear a word. Standing there doing nothing felt awkward, so Chu Ning’an called up warmly, “Why don’t you come eat with us? Thanks, you bring that, uh—”
“Ahem.” Lu Hanqiu cut her off.
“Xie Mingjun,” she said, “bring your friend along. You don’t have evening self-study, right?”
Dong Yin shook her head. “No… but th-thank you.”
Chu Ning’an said, “We’re thanking you, you should say something. She’s been calling you for ages. It’s not like you’re treating—we’ve got Lu Hanqiu paying.”
Dong Yin wanted to explain, but didn’t know how. She’d been saying thanks to Chu Ning’an’s kindness, not calling out to Xie.
Xie still didn’t invite her. She just went down the stairs first.
After a few seconds of hesitation, Dong Yin followed. Xie opened the car door and got in straight away.
Dong Yin knew they genuinely meant well by inviting her, but she was also worried—if she didn’t go this time, what if she never ran into Xie again?
Earlier it’d been the start-of-term week, and everyone was always on campus, so it was easy to bump into each other. Now that the schedule had loosened up, you could go days without seeing a particular person.
She stood by the car window and asked quietly, “Do you… want me to come?”
“I don’t—”
“Come on, come on.” Before Xie could finish, Chu Ning’an leaned over and yanked open the back door. “You’re Dong Yin, right? Hop in, Dong Yin. Let’s go eat together.”
Dong Yin clutched her phone and climbed into the car.
The door shut with a solid thud, cutting off the wave of heat outside. It had been so hot out there it felt unnatural, like they’d been standing on the closest point to the sun and the sun was doing its best to roast them alive. The car’s air conditioning was blasting; as soon as she sat down, Dong Yin’s arms felt a little cold.
The back seats were separate; the two of them weren’t sitting especially close. Xie turned her head to look out the window. The car drove into a tree-lined road; shade fell across the glass, and Dong Yin’s reflection appeared on the window.
From that reflection, Xie could clearly see that Dong Yin wasn’t looking at the scenery outside or the road ahead. She was just staring in Xie’s direction, gaze burning, eyes shining—not watery like before, when they’d looked like they were brimming with a packet of tears, but more like sunlight glinting on glass, dazzling and bright.
The car took barely half a minute to pass through the tree tunnel. That faint shadowy reflection of Dong Yin only existed for those thirty seconds.
Once they were out of the shade, the landscape outside and the glass itself suddenly felt dull and empty, like they’d lost their highlight.
A few minutes later, Xie straightened up in her seat.
From the front, Chu Ning’an twisted around. “How about we eat near your school? I heard the late-night barbecue stalls outside your campus are really good.”
Dong Yin didn’t know how to decide, so she looked at Xie.
“Sure,” Xie said. “Hanqiu’s paying anyway.”
“I can, too,” Dong Yin murmured.
Chu Ning’an laughed. Sitting diagonally in front of Dong Yin, she took another proper look at her. Dong Yin’s fingers slowly clenched together, nervous, but she still moved her lips and gave her a small smile back.
“Ning’an, check the navigation. I’ve lost the road,” Lu Hanqiu called.
“Got it,” Chu Ning’an answered, sitting up straight to look at the GPS.
With Chu’s “guidance,” Lu Hanqiu ended up completely lost. No one knew where they’d driven off to; they circled around three or four times.
Dong Yin spoke up in a tiny voice, “Go left, cross that road… You just drove past it.”
Hanqiu turned the wheel, made a couple of turns, and finally got them to the destination. As they got out of the car, Chu said, “We’d never have made it without Dong Yin.”
Dong accepted the compliment, a little pleased. She tilted her head and saw Xie frowning.
“It’s not far,” Dong said. “Don’t be annoyed.”
They headed straight for the barbecue stalls in the back street.
The stall was run by people from Xinjiang; after just a few steps you could already smell the rich, authentic scent of lamb. They ordered three jin of crayfish, then grabbed a small basket to pick skewers.
Dong had been studying at this school for so long, but she wasn’t even as familiar with the place as the two visitors. She stood there for ages, not sure what to pick.
She rarely came this far back. It was too lively; it was always groups of friends crowding in to eat together. If she wanted to “splurge,” she just went to the front and bought a serving of fried spaghetti.
In the end, she didn’t really choose anything. She quietly put the basket back.
Business here was booming; there were no free tables. The boss went to get a few more, setting them up on the spot. Xie was the first to sit down, staking out their seats.
She sat there with her phone on the table, her head tilted slightly. In the dim glow of the night stalls, she looked like she’d melted into the darkness itself, picking up a touch of cool aloofness. Say she didn’t fit in, and yet there were also a few threads of smoky warmth clinging to her.
Dong Yin snuck a couple more glances, then walked over.
“Mingjun, I’m gonna buy drinks. Do they drink beer?” she asked.
“They don’t,” Xie said.
“Oh.” Dong nodded and ran off to the milk tea shop next door, joining the line. She moved fast, almost excited.
Xie’s lips parted, but she swallowed the rest of what she’d been about to say.
She didn’t drink anything at all.
Dong wanted to buy something to share. If other people were treating her to dinner and she just sat there doing nothing, she’d feel guilty. She didn’t know what everyone liked, and she’d run off in such a hurry she’d forgotten to ask. She figured beer with barbecue could be swapped for fruit tea with barbecue, so she bought four different kinds of fruit tea.
Normally, she’d never spend that much money on a drink. But today was different; she didn’t feel the sting at all. The line was long—by the time she came back balancing four cups, the skewers and crayfish were already on the table.
They’d saved her a seat. She sat down next to Xie.
“Mingjun…” Dong placed the drinks on the table.
Xie picked one up. The remaining three she pushed toward Chu and Hanqiu for them to choose from, and the last one was Dong’s.
When it came to food, Dong was always the last to reach out. She took a skewer of sliced potatoes and listened to the others talk.
From their conversation, she found out that Chu and Hanqiu were childhood friends who went to a different school next door. They’d met Xie through gaming, then gradually became close in real life.
Dong didn’t really know how to jump in. She just listened. Xie, wearing gloves, peeled crayfish. Now and then she’d throw in a comment or two. At one point she pulled off the gloves to stick a straw into her fruit tea and took a sip.
Only then did Dong exhale, pull on her own gloves, and start peeling crayfish to eat. She finally relaxed. Since everyone was drinking the fruit tea she’d bought, she felt brave enough to chime in here and there.
Chu was talkative and loved to laugh, two little dimples appearing at the corners of her mouth. She asked Dong if she played games. Dong said she did. She asked how good she was, and Dong answered, “Just average.”
So then they started talking about that pink-armored macho carry they’d been queuing with in-game, speculating whether he was actually a pro.
The crayfish meat was tender, and the rice cakes buried underneath were thoroughly soaked with flavor. They’d ordered a huge plate of lamb skewers; Dong followed the others’ pace and ate along with them.
By the time they were full and wiping their mouths with napkins, the sky was fully dark. All the stall lights flicked on like stars. Dong tilted her head back to compare them with the actual ones in the sky. Her face felt a little damp. She touched it—and someone shouted that it was raining.
“It’s raining? Shit—I gotta go, I have to get back now,” Chu said, quickly wiping her hands and pushing back her chair.
At first it was only a few drops. But the sky stewed on it for a moment, then lost its temper completely, hurling down thick sheets of rain.
Hanqiu opened the trunk, took out an umbrella, and handed it to Xie.
“You walk Dong Yin back,” she said. “I have to send Ning’an back to her campus first.”
Chu looked genuinely anxious; she’d already climbed into the passenger seat. It seemed like something big had happened.
“What’s wrong? Did something happen?” Dong asked, concerned.
Hanqiu answered, “She’s in the agriculture college. A few days ago she planted her graduation project. It literally just sprouted today.” Her voice was cool and flat. She shot Chu a sidelong look. “You’re an agriculture student and you never check the weather before planting?”
“I was too busy arguing with you and forgot, okay? If you hadn’t played like garbage in that game today, would I have forgotten? I was planning to go cover it with plastic—hurry up…”
Chu yanked the door shut. Hanqiu circled around to the driver’s side and got in. Chu waved at Dong from inside the car; Dong waved back.
The car pulled away quickly. Dong was still a bit dazed, feeling like the day hadn’t had a proper ending yet. She turned her head and realized Xie had already left, heading back toward campus.
Thank goodness the rain had held off until they’d finished eating; otherwise all that barbecue would’ve gone to waste.
Dong trotted after her. The raindrops splashed against her face, soaking it in an instant. She wiped at her cheeks and slipped under the shelter of Xie’s umbrella.
She felt this warm, fizzy happiness in her chest, and kept pursing her lips, like she was savoring something. Anyone looking from the outside would think she was reliving the taste of grilled skewers on her tongue.
“Was it really that good?” Xie’s tone was mild, her voice soft enough that the sound of the rain almost drowned it out.
“No,” Dong said. “I was thinking about your friends.”
They still had a long walk back. The rain drummed against the umbrella in a continuous rush. The handle tilted slightly, the water falling around them in a sheet.
While they waited at a red light, Dong tugged on the hem of Xie’s shirt and said quietly, “Mingjun, your friends are really nice.”
The light turned green. Xie stepped forward to cross the street. Dong hurried after her, her small steps pattering under the noise of the rain.
After they reached the other side, Dong heard Xie say, “What, did you fall for Chu Ning’an?”
