Three answers
On the day I returned to school, the early summer breeze carried the scent of gardenias.
Yu Chen slung his training bag over his left shoulder, his bright red hair peeking out from under his baseball cap like a persistent, burning flame. His companion, Kexin, chattered incessantly the whole way.
"Hey, I heard there's a meteor shower tonight, and the student council is handing out stargazing tickets on the playground!" She skipped a few steps, turned back to Yu Chen with a smile, and asked, "Want to go together?"
"We'll see," Yu Chen replied casually, his fingers hooking around the backpack strap, his knuckles still bearing faint teeth marks—the personal seal left when someone "took responsibility" for him.
Turning past the wisteria-covered pergola, An Yi stood under the shade of a tree ahead. His white shirt sleeves were rolled up to his forearms, and he held a light blue envelope in his hand, the corner embossed with a silver-stamped asteroid—the student council's astronomy club logo. Ke Xin gasped softly, automatically retreating two steps, her eyes darting back and forth between the two.
"Yu Chen." An Yi approached, handed over the envelope, and said in a low, steady voice, "Tonight's observation pass, with... some personal information attached." The last sentence was so soft it almost dissipated in the wind.
Yu Chen took the envelope, her fingertips touching the stiff cardboard inside, and then a layer of soft letter paper—the thickness was wrong. She didn't open it on the spot, but casually crumpled it up and stuffed it into her school uniform pocket, the movement as casual as accepting a flyer.
"Thanks." She nodded and started to leave.
"Don't you want to take a look?" An Yi's voice lowered, her ear tips turning slightly red.
"We'll talk about it tonight when I'm free." Yu Chen waved to him with her back turned, her steps unwavering, the ends of her bright red hair whipping in the wind like a streak of fire in the air.
Kexin jogged up to catch up, lowering her voice: "What if it's a love letter?"
"Then consider it a free gift from the meteor shower." Yu Chen smiled, his fingertips finding the wad of paper in his pocket. The cardboard was folded slightly, like an unnamed star, temporarily locked in the palm of his hand.
She didn't turn around, so she didn't see it.
An Yi stood still, tapping his knuckles lightly against the seam of his trousers, as if writing a footnote for his delayed answer:
"The third solution has been delivered."
21:40 at night, southeast corner of the playground.
In return for the meteor shower observation ticket was a small, fenced-off "astronomy corner"—far from the campfire, all the lights were off, and only the fluorescent star markers drew green lines in the air. Yu Chen arrived just as the lights-out bell rang; she was still wearing her baseball cap, tucking the ends of her bright red hair into the rear adjustment hole, as if temporarily putting the fire into a box.
Kexin went to get the glow sticks, leaving her alone on the folding chair. The summer breeze smelled of grass clippings, and she pulled out the crumpled piece of paper—
The cardboard was for stargazing; the back was covered in pencil writing, a testament to An Yi's consistently neat handwriting.
On the day of the provincial competition, you were writing the answers in the boxing ring.
I wrote down the solution from the stands.
The third solution actually consists of only one line—
"If you'd like, I'd like to write the answer beside you."
The signature wasn't a name, but a set of coordinates: 18° north of east, 1.3 km away—precisely where she was sitting at that moment.
Yu Chen stared at the line of words, her fingertips unconsciously tracing the paper, her earlobes glowing slightly red from the distant fluorescent light. Just as she was about to look up, a shadow fell upon the coupon—
An Yi arrived, carrying a small telescope whose lenses reflected starlight. He wasn't wearing his school uniform jacket; his white shirt billowed in the wind like an unfurled sail.
"Shall we sit in the standard seats?" Yu Chen spoke first, his voice low but with a sharp edge unique to young men.
“Accurate.” An Yi handed her the binoculars, his fingertips touching the back of her fingers. “Aim at 18°, and you’ll see the first fireball of the night.”
Yu Chen took the camera and pointed it at the night sky—the dark blue sky was studded with tiny diamonds. She adjusted the focus slightly, and a bright spot suddenly entered her field of vision, trailing a long tail before disappearing in a flash.
"You saw it?" An Yi's voice was close to his ear, with a barely perceptible tension.
"Hmm." Yu Chen put down the binoculars, turned to look at him, her eyes brighter than starlight. "The answer is written next to me?"
An Yi's Adam's apple bobbed, and just as he was about to speak, a whistle suddenly came from afar—the bonfire party was entering its "lights out countdown," and the entire playground instantly went dark, leaving only glow sticks and shooting stars in the sky.
The darkness amplified their heartbeats. Yu Chen took a half-step forward, folded the stargazing ticket into a small square, and tucked it into An Yi's shirt breast pocket, her voice so soft that only the two of them could hear:
"I'll leave the answer for now, and write it to you when I can free up space in the 'personal space' section."
After saying that, she stepped back, turned and walked towards the sea of glow sticks, waving her hand behind his back, as if putting a dash on the delayed answer—
To be continued.
An Yi stood still, tapping her knuckles twice lightly on her breast pocket, a very faint smile playing on her lips:
"Okay, I'll wait for you to get a seat."
The night wind continued to blow, and shooting stars streaked across the sky one by one, like pre-written ringtones—
This time, no one rushed to answer; only the axis of symmetry remained, slowly drawing closer.
At 22:15, the countdown to the lights going out on the playground ended, the crowd of glow sticks dispersed, and only the cleaning staff's flashlights swayed in the distance.
Yu Chen shoved the binoculars back into An Yi's hands and turned to walk towards the dormitory area. The night wind carried the scent of grass clippings and charcoal. She took off her baseball cap, and the ends of her bright red hair swayed in the wind like a fuse that refused to go out.
Kexin had been waiting impatiently downstairs at the dormitory. When she saw her from afar, she jogged over and asked, "Did you see the shooting star? How bright was it?"
“Wait, the tail of the fire is very long.” Yu Chen only answered that one sentence before heading into the building. She still had An Yi’s stargazing ticket folded into a small square in her pocket; the corner of the paper was stiff, and with each step it gently poked her side, as if reminding her—
The "empty space next to me" section is not yet finished.
Dormitory corridor 22:25
The old light bulb hummed. Yu Chen had just taken out her keys when a familiar, low whistle came from behind her—three whistles, short-short-long, Xiao Wei's code. She turned around—
Behind the security door, a black silhouette leaned against the wall, the brim of his hat pulled low to his brow, revealing only a slight, enigmatic smile. A red boxing glove bag lay discarded at his feet, as if he had just stepped off the training field and charged straight at them.
"Is the little shooting star pretty?" Xiao Wei's voice was low, but it carried a distinct minty scent—she had just finished showering, and her hair was still wet.
Yu Chen's heart skipped a beat, but her expression remained unchanged: "How did you get in?"
"Climb over the wall." Xiao Wei shrugged, tapping his knuckles lightly on the brim of his hat. "From No. 1 Middle School to the girls' dormitory at the sports school, it's 2.2 kilometers. Ten minutes to warm up."
She approached as she spoke, stopping half a step away, her nose almost touching Yu Chen's. Her breath carried the cool, sweet scent of freshly chewed iced gum. The wind lifted the ends of her bright red hair, brushing against Xiao Wei's collarbone, like a cat's tail brushing against his heart.
"Where's the coupon?" Xiao Wei suddenly asked.
Yu Chen paused for half a second before realizing—she was referring to An Yi's stargazing ticket. She subconsciously reached into her pocket; the corner of the paper was still there, but she quietly tucked it deeper inside.
"I threw it away," she lied, her voice steady.
Xiao Wei squinted and touched her earlobe with his fingertips, sliding down to the side of her neck—there, the new skin, soaked in the lake water, still had a light pink tinge. The finger marks had long faded, but a small tooth mark remained, with a light white edge, like an unopened private seal.
"It's good to throw it away." Xiao Wei's voice lowered, but it carried a clear hint of jealousy. "It saves me from being jealous."
Before she finished speaking, her knuckles had already hooked the edge of Yu Chen's pocket, and with a gentle flick, the stargazing ticket, folded into a small square, was pulled out. The stiff cardboard spun around on her fingertip, like a star that had been plucked from the sky.
“The lying cat deserves punishment.” Xiao Wei held up the paper square, scratched her waist with his other hand, and said in a hoarse voice, “You’re punished—write down the answers for me now.”
Yu Chen flinched as she was being scratched, but refused to snatch the paper, afraid of scattering scraps all over the floor. She could only protest in a low voice, "Stop messing around, there are security cameras in the dorm."
“It’s a blind spot for surveillance cameras. I scouted the place beforehand.” Xiao Wei laughed, pressing the person behind the security door so their back was against the wall, like a pre-announced alarm bell.
She put the paper square back into Yu Chen's palm, but covered it with her own hand, her voice so low it was barely a whisper:
"Can I write the answer in the place next to me?"
In the darkness, the scent of icy mint swept over—her lips were captured, first gently pressed, then bitten. Yu Chen's fingers were encased in the other's palm, the corner of the paper stiffening, like a star being simultaneously pinched. Her breath was stolen, yet she hooked her little finger around Xiao Wei's, as if drawing a dash to a delayed answer—
OK.
At 22:35, the dormitory corridor lights automatically turned off.
Behind the safety door, the two shadows still overlapped, like an axis of symmetry finally converging, leaving only the heartbeat "thump, thump, thump" in the darkness—
Like the sound of a subway, like the sound of a boxing ring, and like someone whispering:
"The answer can only be written about the people around me."
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