Chapter 47
The provincial newspaper went on sale as scheduled on Thursday morning.
The front page headline featured a striking bold title:
[A letter, two years of injustice: The evil of campus rumors and the breaking up of a family]
The subtitle is even more poignant: "He was forced to jump off a building for telling the truth, and he lived on with a stigma—who killed that stargazing boy?"
The report begins with Tang Li's suicide note and, written by reporter Qin in a detached and restrained style, presents the complete story: Chen Jingming's scheming, the spread of rumors, Tang Li's death, Jiang Ci's trauma, and the difficult counterattack two years later. Copies of key evidence and expert analysis are attached at the end.
The newspapers had just been delivered to the school when they triggered an earthquake among the teachers and students.
The morning reading session turned into a silent reading class. Many people had red eyes, and some lowered their heads in shame—some of them may have forwarded rumors back then, or perhaps they had looked at Jiang Ci with strange eyes.
Before the first class began, the loudspeaker suddenly announced:
Attention all teachers and students: A special flag-raising ceremony will be held on the playground during the morning break.
At 9:30 a.m., more than 3,000 teachers and students lined up on the playground.
Under the warm sunshine, the national flag was slowly raised against the blue sky. After the national anthem, the principal walked onto the podium.
He didn't bring the manuscript.
"Teachers and students," the principal's voice, heavy and clear, echoed across the playground through the microphone, "today, we stand here not to celebrate, but to reflect."
The entire room fell silent.
"Three days ago, a student from our school, Jiang Ci, submitted a document to the school. The document recorded a tragedy that happened two years ago but still has an impact today."
The principal paused, looking at Jiang Ci standing in front of the class line below the stage. Sunlight fell on him, his school uniform was white, and his back was straight.
"A student named Tang Li suffered three months of cyberbullying for insisting on speaking the truth for his friend, and ultimately chose to end his life. His friend Jiang Ci, on the other hand, was burdened with the stigma of causing his classmate's death, and suffered from depression, transferred schools, and self-imposed exile for two years."
Suppressed sobs could be heard from the audience. Many girls were wiping away tears.
"Today, the provincial newspaper published a detailed report. The truth has come out—Tang Li is innocent, Jiang Ci is innocent. The guilty ones are those who fabricated evidence, spread rumors, and trampled on the dignity of others."
The principal's voice suddenly rose:
"As an educator, I feel deeply ashamed! If we had paid more attention to students' mental health back then, if we had intervened in the investigation earlier, if we had more resolutely resisted cyberbullying—perhaps, this tragedy would not have happened!"
He bowed deeply, facing all the teachers and students.
After straightening up, he announced:
"Following a joint decision by the Experimental High School and our school's administrative meeting, the following decisions have been made: First, the Experimental High School will formally rescind all inappropriate records against Jiang Ci and restore his reputation. Second, the Experimental High School will establish the Tangli Anti-Cyberbullying Special Fund for mental health education and legal aid. Third, our school will offer a compulsory course on 'Media Literacy and Cyber Ethics' every semester."
Thunderous applause erupted.
Then, the principal said, "Now, please invite Jiang Ci to come up to the stage."
Jiang Ci walked steadily up to the podium.
He stood in front of the microphone, looking at the three thousand pairs of eyes below the stage. Those gazes that had once terrified him now seemed transparent and heavy.
"Thank you, Principal." He began, his voice carrying through the speakers, a little hoarse but clear, "Thank you, teachers and students."
He paused for a few seconds, as if gathering his courage.
“For the past two years, I’ve thought every single day: if only it had been me who died that day, instead of Tang Li.
A collective gasp rippled through the audience.
“I feel like I’m a jinx, and I think anyone who gets close to me will be unlucky. So I shut myself away, stopped talking, stopped making friends, and just wanted to disappear.”
Jiang Ci's voice was calm, but every word seemed to strike a chord in people's hearts:
"Until someone, disregarding everything, walked into my darkness and told me: 'Jiang Ci, you're not wrong. They're the ones who are wrong.'"
His gaze fell on the line of Class 12 below the stage. Xie Qingyan stood there, looking up at him with clear and firm eyes.
"This person made me realize that victims don't need to hide forever, and innocence doesn't need to be proven by silence. It's those who kill with rumors who should hide in the shadows and fear the sunlight."
Jiang Ci took a deep breath:
“Today, I stand here not to receive sympathy. I stand here for Tang Li.”
He held up the newspaper in his hand:
“Every word written here is the truth that Tang Li risked his life to uncover. He should not be forgotten, nor should he be remembered only as a student who jumped off a building. He was Tang Li—a man who loved playing basketball, stargazing, standing up for his friends, and secretly drawing comics during physics class.”
Many people in the audience were crying.
“From today onwards,” Jiang Ci’s voice suddenly became firm, “I will live well, carrying Tang Li’s share with me. I will go to university, I will continue to look at the stars, and I will strive to become a brave and warm person like him.”
He looked at the entire audience and finally said:
"I also hope that everyone here will remember Tang Li's name. Remember that every share and every comment you make could be the last straw that breaks a person's back, or the first hand that lifts someone up."
"Please, make good use of your power."
He bowed and stepped down from the stage.
The applause was thunderous and lasted for a long time.
After school, the two went to the old locust tree behind the laboratory building—the corner where Jiang Ci had once curled up alone.
The setting sun cast long shadows.
Jiang Ci took out an exquisite wooden box from his bag and handed it to Xie Qingyan.
“You gave me a seal on my birthday,” he said. “Today it’s my turn to return the favor.”
Xie Qingyan opened the box.
Inside was a custom-made fountain pen with a deep blue starry sky pattern on the body and a line of tiny English letters engraved on the clip:
To my Polaris.
There was also a card with Jiang Ci's handwriting:
Xie Qingyan:
You ask me why Polaris doesn't move?
Because it is waiting for lost people to look up.
Thank you for finding me.
——Jiang Ci
Xie Qingyan held the pen, her fingertips slightly burning.
“Jiang Ci,” he looked up, his eyes bright, “the second mock exam is coming up.”
"Um."
"You said you wanted to get first place."
"I mean what I say."
Xie Qingyan smiled and extended her hand: "Then, it's a promise—we'll go to the highest place together."
Jiang Ci grasped his hand, their fingers intertwined:
"good."
“But your father…” Xie Qingyan paused, a trace of worry flashing across his brow.
Jiang Cheng's absence from this sensational exoneration that reverberated throughout the school and even in the newspapers was itself a cold attitude. Given his controlling nature towards Jiang Ci and his obsession with saving face, silence is often more dangerous than rage.
"Are you afraid?" Jiang Ci stared at Xie Qingyan, his eyes revealing cracks left by struggle, but also a resolute determination for rebirth. "I used to be terrified. Afraid of his power, afraid of his methods, afraid that he could really turn your life upside down. I backed down again and again, and what was the result?"
He drew a bitter smile: "My concession cost me my mother, my innocence, and almost my life. But Xie Qingyan, this time is different."
He gripped Xie Qingyan's hand tightly, his grip so strong it seemed he was drawing courage from it: "This time, I'm not alone. This time, I have the understanding of Tang Li's parents, the support of the school, the weapon of the law, and most importantly, you. I have no way out, and I don't want to have any more way out."
Xie Qingyan felt the slight tremor and heat from his palm, and squeezed it back tightly: "I've said it before, your path is my path. As for your father..."
He paused, his eyes clear and resolute, carrying a calm and fearless quality born from having faced life and death: "We'll meet force with force, and water with earth. Don't forget, I've even been through death. The worst that can happen is dying again. But this time, I'll face it with you."
These words, though spoken in jest, strangely dispelled the gloom that had been lingering in their hearts.
They smiled at each other, a smile that held the youthful, reckless courage of youth, and the unwavering resolve of entrusting each other with their lives. They knew that a more difficult and intimate battle with Jiangcheng might have only just begun.
That evening, Wen Heng sent a message:
[The university where Chen Jingming studied issued an announcement: After investigation, it was found that Chen Jingming had submitted false materials during the recommendation process, which affected the fairness of the review. Therefore, the university has decided to revoke his recommendation and reserves the right to pursue further legal action.]
Zhou Long's father contacted the school, expressing his willingness to donate the first installment to the "Tang Li Foundation."
[In addition, Tang Li's parents said they would like to invite you to their home for dinner after your college entrance examination. They also said that Tang Li's room will be reserved for you indefinitely.]
Jiang Ci stared at his phone screen for a long time before replying:
Please thank them for me. I will definitely go after the college entrance exam.
He put down his phone and opened the window.
The night wind rushed in, carrying the chill of early winter and the crisp scent of the starry sky.
Xie Qingyan walked to his side, and the two looked at the night sky side by side.
“Jiang Ci,” Xie Qingyan said softly, “guess which star Tang Li is on now?”
Jiang Ci thought for a moment: "It should be near Beta Cygnus. That's where he discovered that comet."
“Then let’s go to Beijing to take the exam,” Xie Qingyan said. “I heard that the observatory there can provide a clearer view of the starry sky.”
"good."
"Then, during our four years of university, every year on the anniversary of Tang Li's death, we would write him a letter and burn it for him."
"good."
"Then, when we have jobs and money, we will donate an astronomical science museum in Tang Li's name."
Jiang Ci turned his head, looked at Xie Qingyan's gentle profile under the starlight, and suddenly asked:
"Xie Qingyan, you still haven't told me about your past life..."
Xie Qingyan fell silent, his gaze seemingly piercing through the night, looking into the more distant and ethereal depths of time and space. Starlight fell into his eyes, shrouding them in a hazy, ancient mist.
“I was once the youngest top scholar in the Great Jing Dynasty.” He spoke softly, as if afraid of disturbing a sleeping dream. “At eighteen, I achieved the highest honors in all three levels of the imperial examinations, and I was basking in the glory of the imperial procession. I thought that what awaited me was to govern the country and benefit the people, and to leave my name in history.”
He paused, his Adam's apple bobbing, as those deeply buried memories surged up with the cold scent of the pool: "But my best classmate, on the night I was at my most triumphant, tricked me into going to the Taiye Pool. He said, 'Qingyan, you're blocking too many people's way,' and then he plunged a dagger into my chest."
Xie Qingyan's fingers unconsciously touched his chest, where a lingering phantom pain seemed to remain. He looked at Jiang Ci, his eyes holding lingering fear, but also a sense of relieved openness:
"When I sank down, the last thing I saw was a crescent moon hanging from the eaves of the palace wall, and starlight reflected in the water, shattered into millions of pieces. At that time, my deepest regret was not that I had not achieved fame and success, but that I had never been able to say those words to someone."
Jiang Ci held his breath as an incredible conjecture roared in his mind.
Xie Qingyan's gaze grew increasingly distant, as if he were struggling to discern something in the dust of memory: "That person was a young steward in the palace who was in charge of organizing the classics. He was very cold and always stayed alone on the top floor of the library, facing rare books and star charts. Every time I went up to him under some pretext to discuss scholarship, I just wanted to see him a little more."
His voice was tinged with a gentle melancholy: "There was a special kind of loneliness and stubbornness in his eyes, like stars in the cold night, clear and bright, unattainable. I wrote countless poems, but in the end, I couldn't even say a word of 'I like you'."
At this point, Xie Qingyan suddenly stopped. He slowly turned his head, his gaze meticulously tracing Jiang Ci's eyebrows, nose, tightly pursed lips, and eyes that were now filled with shock and surging emotions.
The night wind blew, and the withered leaves of the old locust tree rustled.
Xie Qingyan's voice lowered, carrying a sense of dread and certainty, as if a destiny had been ordained:
Do you know Jiang Ci?
"The profile of that person as they looked down at their book, the slight furrow in their brow when they were silent, and the incredibly focused expression in their eyes when they occasionally gazed at the starry sky outside the window..."
He reached out and lightly touched Jiang Ci's eye with his fingertips, as if touching a fragile miracle: "Exactly the same as you."
boom--
These words, like a key, finally unlocked the last lock connecting the two timelines. All the fragmented senses of déjà vu, all the inexplicable familiarity and palpitations, all the blurry shadows in the dream, converged at this moment into the tear-streaked face of the person before him.
Jiang Ci's pupils contracted sharply, his body stiffened, as if struck by a lightning bolt spanning a thousand years. He wanted to say something, but his throat felt blocked, and no sound came out. Only scalding tears, without warning, rushed to his eyes, blurring his vision.
Xie Qingyan looked at him, at her own reflection in his eyes, at the shattered starlight and surging emotions, and finally, she whispered the words that had been buried for two lifetimes: "So, Jiang Ci, it's not that you resemble him."
"It was me who liked you a long, long time ago."
"The words I couldn't say in my past life, I've finally come to say in this one." He smiled slightly, a smile that carried relief, fulfillment, and the weariness and ecstasy of finally reaching the other shore after traversing the vast expanse of time and space. "The moon in the sea is the moon in the sky, and the person before me is the person in my heart. I used to think it was just a beautiful image, but now I know it is the most tragic judgment written for a wandering soul."
He grasped Jiang Ci's trembling hand and pressed it against his warm chest, letting the rapid heartbeat convey his most sincere confession:
"Whether I am Xie Qingyan or Xie Xingzhi of Dajing, what I am looking for, what I am waiting for, and what I will do everything in my power to protect—"
"From beginning to end, it's always been just you."
"Only you."
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