Chapter 5

The scent of sweat gradually overwhelmed the smell of floor wax. After an hour of practice, the five tall boys were all a little breathless. Although their movements were still uneven, at least the first eight beats were no longer as chaotic as at the beginning. They finally had some sense of unity.

"That's all for today." Zhao Jinglu pressed the stop button on her MP3 player, and the music abruptly stopped. The only sound in the room was the sound of heavy breathing. "Remember to practice today's basic rhythms when you get home. I'll check next time."

"Thank you, little teacher! You've worked so hard!" Zhang Hao was the first to shout, grabbing his coat. "Brother Peng, let's go!"

Several boys rushed out the door, and the noise quickly disappeared into the empty corridor. The rehearsal room suddenly became quiet.

Ling Peng's movements were a little slower. He bent down to pick up the sports bag on the ground, and threw the empty mineral water bottle that he had kicked to the wall into the trash can.

"Ling Peng! Hurry up!" Another urging voice came from outside.

Ling Peng. So his name is Ling Peng.

When Ling Peng straightened up, he saw Zhao Jinglu squatting by the stereo, intently winding the headphone cable of his MP3 player. He seemed oblivious to the fact that everyone was leaving. He said nothing, simply slung his bag over his shoulder and headed for the door.

After walking about ten meters, as he was about to reach the stairs, he heard the sound of a door opening and hurried footsteps behind him—she was coming out too. Ling Peng didn't look back, nor did he stop, but turned straight into the stairwell.

The two of them, one in front of the other, walked down the silent stairs at a distance. The high school building was already mostly empty, with only the third-year classrooms still lit for evening study. The cold moonlight and the sound-activated lights in the corridors illuminated the steps.

Leaving the teaching building, the winter night's chill immediately enveloped him, the streetlights dimming through the white mist. Ling Peng habitually shoved his hands into his pockets, turned left, and headed toward the school gate. After a few steps, he instinctively glanced back—the small figure had followed him out, also turning left, head lowered, neck hunched, and silently walking a dozen meters behind him. Doesn't the parent need to pick him up anymore? Ling Peng wondered.

As if connected by an invisible thread, the two walked, one in front of the other, along the winter night street, maintaining a distance neither too far nor too close. Their footsteps were remarkably clear on the quiet road, his steady, hers delicate, crisscrossing and then separating. The streetlights stretched their shadows far out, sometimes his shadow covering hers, sometimes pulled apart by new lights, like a silent, accidental encounter.

As they approached the bus stop, a few students were already standing under the sign, waiting for the bus. Seeing the No. 28 bus's headlights light up in the distance, Zhao Jinglu hurriedly quickened her pace, hoping to get past it and reach the platform.

At this moment, Ling Peng did not walk towards the platform, but walked straight past the bus stop without stopping.

Zhao Jinglu was stunned for a moment, "So he doesn't want to take the car."

As if sensing her pause, Ling Peng subconsciously slowed his pace, tilting his head to the side, his gaze sweeping across the platform and her. For a brief moment, almost as if unconsciously confirming, "So she doesn't live nearby." Then he continued walking, his figure blending into the deeper night cast by the red-brick buildings ahead.

Zhao Jinglu hopped onto the bus, which was about to close. She peered out through the foggy window, but the figure had already vanished. A strange feeling suddenly welled up in her: they had just shared a brief, synchronized silence, but he was oblivious to it. It was as if she had stolen this journey.

Ling Peng was almost at the bottom of his building when Zhang Hao appeared out of nowhere and put his arms around his neck. "Sure, Brother Peng! Did you come back after sending the teacher to the station?"

"What nonsense are you talking about?" Ling Peng shook his arm away, his tone calm, "The road is wide open, let's go our separate ways."

"Hehe, just kidding," Zhang Hao said with a sly grin. "But seriously, this little teacher has something. That phrase 'find the feeling of dribbling' is amazing! Your movements really became much smoother after that."

Ling Peng didn't respond, but just put his hands in his coat pockets and quickened his pace.

The cold wind of the winter night blew on his face, but he felt that he didn't feel that cold when he walked that road just now.

This dance didn't seem so unbearable after all.