Clear sky and ripples

Ever since that rainstorm evening when the long-handled black umbrella provided her with a small piece of dry and safe sky in the cold rain, the relationship between Jiang Yile and Gu Nanxiao has undergone an indescribable, subtle change as slow and sure as the melting of ice and snow in spring.

This change was not a dramatic turning point, there was no heated conversation or sudden closeness, but more like ink marks gently smudged by clear water on an ink painting.

The blurred edges actually change the overall atmosphere and tone of the picture, silently but unignorable.

It’s not that Gu Nanxiao became talkative and cheerful overnight. He was still silent and spent most of the breaks wearing the black headphones, immersed in his own world.

After school, he is still the first one to leave the classroom, with a resolute back.

But that silence was no longer the initial icy isolation that carried a clear rejection and warning, but gradually evolved into a more habitual and even somewhat thoughtful silence.

Less sharp, more calm.

When Jiang Yile talked to him, for example, he would remind him to hand in his homework or ask about some class matters.

For example, "Gu Nanxiao, you have to hand in the math B exercises next week, don't forget." "Sports meet registration form, would you like to see the events you're interested in? You can sign up."

He would raise his eyes, and his gaze would no longer sweep across like before. Instead, he would listen attentively, and occasionally respond with one or two words, "OK", "I know", "Thank you", although they were still brief and stingy, but he was no longer completely indifferent or ignoring.

His gaze seemed to linger on her face for a few seconds longer than usual.

Although there was still no warmth in that gaze, at least it was no longer like before, as if it was just passing through the empty air or a piece of furniture, leaving no trace.

Sometimes when Jiang Yile was rummaging through her schoolbag and found that she had forgotten to bring a textbook or reference book that she seldom used, she would frown slightly, thinking about whether to borrow it from a classmate in the next class or go to the office to find the teacher. He would silently push his book to the middle of her desk, his movements so natural that it seemed as if he just did it casually, but his eyes were still looking at his own book or out the window, not giving her any chance to thank him or feel embarrassed.

When she was on duty to wipe the blackboard and couldn't reach the teacher's flamboyant chalk handwriting at the top, and it was a bit difficult for her to reach it on tiptoe, he would walk to the side of the podium at some point, naturally take the eraser covered with chalk dust from her hand, stretch out his arm, wipe the high area easily, and then put the eraser back to its original place in the chalk slot. He didn't say a word during the whole process, and didn't even look at her, as if he had just completed an ordinary and convenient task, and then turned around and walked back to his seat.

These subtle, almost imperceptible actions, like pebbles thrown into the lake of the heart, created tiny but lasting ripples in Jiang Yile's heart.

She began to feel that this "iceberg" might not be completely indestructible. Beneath its cold and hard shell, there might be a certain degree of perception and warmth that he deliberately concealed, but the way he expressed it was different from that of ordinary people, with a clumsy and silent consideration.

This was most evident in group discussions.

During the review period of senior year, teachers of all subjects are keen to assign topics or special seminars that require group collaboration, aiming to cultivate collaborative skills and slightly adjust the dull exam preparation atmosphere.

According to their seats, Jiang Yile, Gu Nanxiao, Zhou Xiaowei and Zhang Hao in the front seat automatically formed a group.

Zhou Xiaowei is lively and cheerful, and she creates the atmosphere, but sometimes her thoughts jump around and she can't grasp the core of the problem; Zhang Hao is warm-hearted and energetic, which makes him suitable for running errands, but his thoughts sometimes jump around too much and he easily deviates from the topic.

As the team leader, Jiang Yile often needs to work hard to bring wild discussions back on track and patiently sort out ideas. It feels like he is leading two energetic children on an adventure in a maze of knowledge.

Gu Nanxiao still spoke very little during the discussion. Most of the time he just listened quietly, occasionally writing down a few key points in his notebook, like a calm bystander.

But when the discussion reached a deadlock, or Zhou Xiaowei and Zhang Hao were arguing fiercely but still could not reach the point, and time was running out, he would suddenly speak up, using extremely concise language to point out the core contradiction of the problem, or propose a new and to-the-point perspective, which could often break the deadlock in an instant, make the chaotic discussion clear, and proceed smoothly.

His views are always logically clear and get to the point, like a precise scalpel, which invisibly helps Jiang Yile, the team leader, share a lot of pressure in guidance and sorting out.

"Hey, Lele, I found that Gu Nanxiao doesn't seem that cold after all. He's especially different towards you."

One day during class break, Zhou Xiaowei came over, winked and spoke in a low voice, her tone full of excitement and confidence as if she had discovered a new world.

As she spoke, she used her eyes to indicate the action of Gu Nanxiao helping Jiang Yile pick up the paintbrush that had fallen on the ground - the pen rolled to his feet, and he almost subconsciously bent down to pick it up and gently placed it on the corner of her desk. There was no communication throughout the whole process, but it was smooth and natural.

Jiang Yile was correcting the English dictation book that had just been distributed. Upon hearing this, the tip of his pen paused, leaving a small, abrupt mark on the paper. His cheeks inexplicably felt hot, as if they had been gently exposed to the early autumn sun.

She forced herself to remain calm, her gaze still fixed on the dictation book. "Don't talk nonsense. He's a member of our group, and I'm the squad leader. Isn't it normal for us to have some normal communication? Didn't he just answer Zhang Hao's question?"

Although he just wrote a key formula on Zhang Hao's draft paper with a pen, he didn't utter a single syllable.

"Really?" Zhou Xiaowei drawled, her face etched with the words "I wouldn't trust you," and with a knowing smile, "Then why haven't I seen him pick up pens for others? Or lend books to anyone? Last time Zhang Hao asked to borrow his physics notebooks, he didn't even raise an eyelid, pretending he didn't hear. Don't be too obvious about this discriminatory treatment, Class Monitor Jiang."

"Maybe... maybe it just happened to be convenient."

Jiang Yile's voice unconsciously lowered, but in his heart he could not completely deny Zhou Xiaowei's meticulous observation.

Her attention to Gu Nanxiao had indeed increased a bit unconsciously, beyond the scope of an ordinary classmate or class monitor.

She would pay attention to which English book he changed to today, would notice the occasional bluish color under his eyes due to lack of sleep, would be curious about what kind of music world was flowing in his headphones, and even... would feel an inexplicable, tiny joy when he rarely relaxed his brows because of successfully solving a problem, like seeing a tiny crack in the clouds on a cloudy day, revealing a little light.

"Come on," Zhou Xiaowei nudged her lightly with her elbow, her smile mischievously ambiguous. "I think he's cold on the outside but warm on the inside. And this 'warmth' is currently only directed at you, the class monitor at Jiang University. But seriously, if he could smile more and not always put on such a stern face, the girls chasing him would probably line up from our classroom door to the school gate and then circle the playground."

As she spoke, she gestured exaggeratedly with her hands and couldn't help laughing.

Jiang Yile rolled his eyes at Zhou Xiaowei in annoyance, his face getting even hotter, as if on fire. He quickly lowered his head and pretended to concentrate on correcting the spelling mistakes in the dictation book, not continuing the topic that made her heart beat a little unsteadily.

But the subtle throbbing in my heart, which was pointed out bluntly by my best friend, spread out slowly like ripples caused by a stone thrown into the water, and it could never return to its previous calm.

She didn't try to defend herself, but couldn't help but pay more attention to the boy sitting next to her.

She discovered that he was actually very attentive. Although he seemed indifferent to everything around him, many details were reflected in his calm and sharp eyes.

For example, he would quietly give her the seat by the aisle, which was easily bumped by passing students or more easily glanced at by the teacher, and sit inside near the wall, in a relatively hidden and quiet corner.

For example, she would occasionally cough lightly due to a sore throat caused by the changing seasons or fatigue. When she came to the classroom the next morning, she would always find that her thermos had been filled with hot water at a suitable temperature.

She had secretly observed that Gu Nanxiao was the first one to come every day and would pick it up for her.

When he did this, he still had no expression, and his movements were so natural as if he was completing his daily routine, but the temperature of the glass of water was always just right to warm her slightly cool palms in the early morning.

This discovery made her hold the thermos cup's hand for a long time without letting go. Her heart felt as if it was soaked in warm, clear water, soft and comfortable, and a strange, sour and sweet emotion quietly spread.

These discoveries made Jiang Yile's heart no longer calm.

Those subtle, seemingly unintentional actions, like the Epiphyllum blooming quietly in the dark night, although short and silent, exudes a refreshing fragrance that cannot be ignored, bit by bit breaking down her initial stereotype of him as "cold and aloof", and also letting the simple curiosity and exploration in her heart quietly mix with a trace of her own not yet fully clear, soft, nervous and expectant feelings.

Just as this subtle and ambiguous atmosphere was quietly growing like a vine, the preparations for the school's annual art festival officially began.

This is the last large-scale campus activity that senior high school students can participate in before the college entrance examination, and they are encouraged by the school to participate.

Although academic work is as stressful as a bowstring, the school and the class teacher, Mr. Li, still hope that students can participate appropriately, relax their bodies and minds, adjust their tense nerves, and add a touch of color to the gray exam preparation life.

As is customary, a school-wide art exhibition will be held during the Art Festival. Each class is required to submit at least one work for the exhibition, with no restrictions on subject matter or form. The purpose is to showcase the class style and student talents.

The class teacher, Teacher Li, had long known that Jiang Yile had been learning to paint since she was a child. She studied under a local painter of some fame and had dabbled in sketching, watercolor, and oil painting, and had a solid foundation. She had also won many awards in previous campus art festivals. So he gave this task to her, which was a recognition and support for her expertise, and hoped that she could bring honor to the class.

"Jiang Yile, our class's works for this exhibition are now handed over to you. Is that okay?" Teacher Li asked kindly.

His eyes were full of trust and encouragement; he knew the kid was reliable professionally.

"No problem, teacher." Jiang Yile agreed readily. She loves painting and is willing to devote time and energy to it.

This seemed like an oasis opened up in the sea of ​​boring questions and countless formulas, which made her yearn and look forward to it. Brushes and colors were the best way for her to express her inner feelings and escape from pressure.

"Do you need help? Or do you need any materials from the class?" Teacher Li asked again, very thoughtfully.

Jiang Yile originally wanted to say that she could complete it by herself. She enjoys the feeling of being immersed in creation alone and having full control over the rhythm and emotions of the picture.

But when she glanced inadvertently at Gu Nanxiao, who was quietly doing his homework next to her and whose profile lines looked clear and focused in the sunlight, she suddenly changed her mind.