cold winter
Jiang Yizhou's words were like a key, unlocking the deepest fear in Shen Yu's heart.
He began to retreat into his hard shell, just as he had before. He no longer glanced at the empty seat behind him, no longer waited for the little surprises in his drawer, no longer looked back at the end of the day. He put away everything related to Jiang Yizhou. The tin box of orange candies was tucked into the deepest part of his closet, and the piece of paper with the problem-solving steps written on it was tucked into the thickest dictionary, as if that would seal away those warm memories as well.
But the more I try to forget, the clearer those images become.
The jumping figures on the basketball court, the silence standing side by side by the railway, the warmth of the embrace after evening self-study, and the cold words "that's it"... These fragments flashed repeatedly in his mind, like a blunt knife cutting flesh, the pain made him breathless.
He became the solitary Chen Yu again, sitting in the far corner of the classroom, head bowed, silent as a statue. His classmates and teachers noticed his change, but no one dared to question him - after all, that was just the way he was.
Only Chen Yu knew that something had completely shattered. The tree in his heart, which had finally sprouted new buds, seemed to have been uprooted, leaving only an empty pit. When the wind blew, it was filled with a biting cold.
In early December, the first snow of the year fell.
Snow fluttered down, covering the playground and the roof with a thin layer of white frost. Chen Yu sat by the window, looking at the white expanse outside, his fingers unconsciously drawing circles on the glass, leaving a faint trace of mist.
He recalled last winter, not long after his parents passed away, on a snowy day like this. He huddled alone in the cold room, listening to the wind outside the window, feeling as if the whole world had abandoned him.
The cold then was the cold of loneliness. But the cold now is the cold of a hollow heart, more biting than the winter wind and snow.
The snow hadn't stopped falling when school was over. Chen Yu walked out of the teaching building, backpack in hand, the white breath he exhaled quickly dissipating in the cold air. He wrapped his school uniform tightly around him, head bowed, and headed home, not noticing a familiar black motorcycle parked on a nearby street corner.
Jiang Yizhou sat on the motorcycle, wearing a helmet, revealing only a pair of eyes, quietly watching Chen Yu's back. The wound on his face had healed, but the red bloodshot under his eyes was heavier, and a light stubble appeared on his chin, making him look much more haggard.
These days, he has been waiting. Waiting for the gang to completely let down their guard, waiting for the right time to tell Shen Yu everything. But every time he saw Shen Yu's lonely back, he felt that he was about to collapse.
He saw Chen Yu walking slowly in the snow, his back as thin as a leaf that could be blown away at any moment. He wanted to rush over, to pull him into his arms, to tell him that all this was fake, to explain that Huang Mao had threatened him with Chen Yu's background and the old house left by his parents - those people knew about Chen Yu's situation and even threatened to destroy the house full of memories.
He couldn't let Chen Yu's last hope be destroyed. So he could only choose the most hurtful way, pushing him away and taking all the trouble on himself.
But seeing Shen Yu like this, he suddenly felt that he seemed to have done something wrong. What he thought was protection might just be another kind of harm.
The motorcycle engine made a slight roar, and Shen Yu subconsciously looked back.
The moment their eyes met, time seemed to stand still.
Chen Yu's pupils suddenly contracted, and he immediately turned back as if burned. He quickened his pace and almost trotted into the alley, not even daring to look back.
Jiang Yizhou looked at his hurried back, his heart as if being tightly grasped by an invisible hand, the pain so severe that he could hardly breathe. He took off his helmet and let the snowflakes fall on his hair and face, melting into cold water droplets.
He knew that Shen Yu was still angry and sad.
But he couldn't go find him yet.
Jiang Yizhou started his motorcycle, turned it around, and disappeared into the snow. In the rearview mirror, the thin figure had long since disappeared, leaving only the snow and the white cold.
Shen Yu rushed into the house and leaned against the door, his chest heaving violently, his heartbeat so fast that it seemed like it was about to burst out. The fatigue and...heartache in Jiang Yizhou's eyes just now were like a needle, piercing the calm he had tried so hard to maintain.
He covered his face and his shoulders began to tremble uncontrollably.
It turns out that those deliberately built high walls were vulnerable the moment they saw that person.
It turned out that he couldn't forget it at all.
The snow outside the window grew heavier, dyeing the entire world white. Chen Yu sat at the cold desk, looking at the blank exercise book. Tears finally couldn't be held back, and drops fell on the paper, creating small stains.
This winter seems to be especially long.
And will his spring come again?
Chen Yu didn't know. He only knew that in the barren land of his heart, there seemed to be a faint flame, beating stubbornly in the wind and snow, refusing to go out.
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