Chapter 2

The sweetness of the orange candy lingered on Su Rui's tongue for two whole days, becoming an almost stubborn illusion.

He carefully smoothed the candy wrapper and tucked it between the pages of his English textbook. It was as thin as a cicada's wing, yet weighed a thousand pounds. It was a secret ritual known only to him, marking the first untimely spring on his barren land.

He began a new, secretive existence. His gaze gained its own consciousness, always able to accurately capture that figure during the clamor of morning exercises, the crowded corridors, and even the boring flag-raising ceremony every Monday. Ling Yao was so easy to recognize. He was shrouded in an invisible aura, bright and arrogant, the natural center of the crowd.

Then, a discovery that made his heart beat faster and he felt lost surfaced - they were actually in the same class. But before, he huddled in the corner of the last row by the door, as silent as wallpaper, while Ling Yao's world was in the center of the classroom. Between them was an entire noisy galaxy that he could not cross.

Now, the sounds of that galaxy took on a specific meaning. It was Ling Yao and a few other boys' discussions about the latest game consoles during class, their casual mentions of an overseas resort, their jokes about how a girl's bold love letter was handled. Their voices were neither too loud nor too soft, just enough to carry over the rows of desks and chairs, reaching Su Rui's ears clearly, like background music from another dimension, reminding him of the unreachable distance between them.

His cafeteria work was usually over during the lunch break. He carried the heavy, empty food basket through the teaching building, moving like a gray shadow against the wall. Just as he turned the corner of the corridor, he suddenly stopped.

Ling Yao was not far ahead, leaning against the window with two or three other boys. The afternoon sun made them look bright and dazzling.

Su Rui's heart suddenly tightened, almost jumping out of his chest. He subconsciously wanted to retreat and hide himself in the wall.

"Hey, Brother Yao, did I see you coming down from that fire escape the day before yesterday? Where were you going? To get away from the crowd?" A boy in a basketball uniform smiled and nudged Ling Yao with his elbow.

Su Rui's blood instantly turned cold and froze in his place. He held the basket tightly, his fingers digging into the cold metal edge, his knuckles turning white.

Ling Yao lazily leaned against the windowsill, the sunlight casting a small shadow beneath his thick eyelashes. He scoffed at the words, his tone as dismissive as if he were flicking non-existent dust off his school uniform: "What can I do? I've just run into a crying little stray cat, squatting there in a dirty mess, an eyesore."

"Pfft—really? And then what? Young Master Ling was so kind that he didn't kick it away?"

Ling Yao curled his lips, as if recalling something insignificant and even a bit disappointing: "Tsk, so annoying. I threw away the paper wrapper to avoid him crying and blocking the way."

Several boys suddenly burst into tacit, roaring laughter.

"Brother Yao is awesome! What kind of operation is this to save all living beings?"

"And then what? Didn't the little wild cat cling to you and pledge herself to you?"

Ling Yao raised an eyebrow, a hint of obvious, condescending mockery on the corner of his mouth: "Pestering me? Does he deserve it? He was sent away with a pack of tissues. I guess he's very grateful."

Even louder laughter came like a wave, hitting Su Rui's eardrums.

He stood in the shadow of the corridor corner, hugging the cold metal basket that still smelled of the cafeteria, and felt like he had become a piece of frozen meat inside. So... that's how it was.

"It's annoying." "It's an eyesore." "It lost its wrapper." "Does he deserve it?"

Each word was like an ice-hardened needle, precisely piercing the tender bud in his heart that had just broken through the soil and was nourished by that bit of false sweetness, pulling it out by the roots and crushing it in the dust.

It turned out that the beam of light that he treasured was nothing more than debris discarded by others to clear roadblocks, and even became a topic of conversation after dinner to make people laugh.

At this moment, Ling Yao seemed to have sensed something and casually glanced in the direction of the shadow.

Su Rui turned abruptly, almost stumbling away, his heart pounding wildly in his chest, bringing a dull, suffocating pain. He fled back to the cafeteria kitchen, turned on the faucet, and let the cold water splash over his trembling hands, but he couldn't wash away the shrill laughter in his ears and the repeated echo of "Does he deserve it?"

His eyes were sore and painful, but he gritted his teeth, raised his head and stared at the old stains on the ceiling.

I couldn't cry. If I cried, it would be just like he said, and I would become that whimpering thing that needed to be sent away with a bag of paper...

When the bell rang for class in the afternoon, he lowered his head and quietly slipped back to the last row of the classroom. Ling Yao and his group of friends also filed in with smiles. As he passed Su Rui's seat, he brought with him a slight breeze and the faint, crisp cedar base.

Su Rui stared at the densely packed letters on the textbook, each one seemed to be jumping and laughing.

Suddenly, a small ball of paper bounced from the front, drew a short arc, and landed precisely on the corner of his desk, making an almost inaudible sound.

His whole body stiffened and he slowly raised his head, only to see Ling Yao's back as he returned to his seat. He was talking and laughing with his deskmate with his head tilted to the side, his posture relaxed and natural, as if the paper ball had nothing to do with him.

Su Rui's fingers trembled uncontrollably, and she slowly opened the ball of paper like defusing a bomb.

There was only one line of words on it, written with a sharp pen stroke, carrying an undeniable sense of oppression, almost piercing through the paper:

"Keep your mouth shut. Don't cause me any trouble."

There was no title, no signature. It was a cold command, a condescending warning.

Afraid he'd tell others? Afraid he'd get involved? Afraid his behavior would tarnish Young Master Ling's flawless reputation?

Su Rui stared at the words for a long, long time. Then he slowly clenched the paper again. The cold sweat from his palms soaked the paper, and the edges of the ink smudged slightly.

He opened his English textbook and put the wrinkled paper ball and the smoothed, shiny candy wrapper tightly together.

Then, with a "click", the lid was closed.

Hidden in the deepest part of the desk