His shoulders were straight and he walked with an innate calmness, as if he would never stop for anyone.
But she would wait. She had waited for so many years, so a moment wouldn't matter.
The afterglow of the setting sun dyed the Ginkgo Avenue of the Provincial Experimental Middle School golden. Ye Fanshuang walked alone towards the school gate in the mottled light and shadow.
Her schoolbag strap left a red mark on her shoulder, but at this moment she felt no pain at all - Zhou Ziqian's words "Ah - it's the clear stream of the night" were like a thorn, deeply piercing her heart.
She looked down at her own shadow and suddenly remembered the scene when she met Ye Qingliu for the third time five years ago.
It was at the junior high school's opening ceremony, and Ye Qingliu, representing the freshmen, took the stage to speak. Standing under the spotlight, dressed in his neatly ironed uniform, his voice as clear and chill as early winter snow, he said, "Excellence isn't a gift, it's a choice."
Just this one sentence made Ye Fanshuang, who was standing in the crowd, remember him forever.
Five years have passed, and she still remembers the temperature of the air conditioner in the auditorium that day, the slight sweat oozing from her palms, and the silver cufflink that appeared from Ye Qingliu's cuff as he walked down the stairs - it was engraved with the Ye family's crest, an eagle with outstretched wings.
"Ye Fanshuang!"
A sharp female voice pulled her out of her memories. Ye Fanshuang turned around and saw Zhou Yuan and several followers walking towards her aggressively.
Zhou Yuan wore heavy makeup today, with high eyeliner. Her school uniform skirt was shortened to her thighs, and she wore limited edition Jimmy Choo high heels - Ye Fanshuang had just seen this pair of shoes in a magazine last week, and they were limited to fifty pairs worldwide.
"I heard you threatened my brother?" Zhou Yuan crossed her arms and stood in front of her arrogantly. "Who do you think you are? The Ye family is so great?"
Ye Fanshuang didn't say anything, just looked at her quietly. Zhou Yuan wore a diamond earring on her right earlobe, which shone brightly in the sunset. It was a gift from Zhou Ziqian on her birthday last month. It was said to be an antique bought at an auction.
Ye Fanshuang remembered it very clearly because Ye Qingliu was also present that day. He sat in the corner of the banquet hall and did not look at Zhou Yuan from beginning to end.
"Get out of the way." Ye Fanshuang's voice was soft, but it carried an unquestionable coldness.
Zhou Yuan sneered, her finger painted with scarlet nail polish almost poking Ye Fanshuang's nose: "Why are you pretending to be so noble? My brother said, you are just a -"
"Zhou Yuan." Ye Fanshuang interrupted her, a sarcastic arc on the corner of his lips, "Didn't your brother tell you why he didn't dare to come to me in person?"
Zhou Yuan was stunned, and her arrogance suddenly weakened a little.
Ye Fanshuang took a step forward, and his leather shoes made a crisp sound as they stepped on the fallen leaves.
She was half a head taller than Zhou Yuan, and now she looked down at her, her eyes as cold as if she were looking at an ant. "Need I remind you, who has the photo of you taking drugs at the 'Miye' bar last month?"
Zhou Yuan's face turned pale instantly.
"You...you're talking nonsense!" Her voice began to tremble, and the arrogance she had just shown was gone.
Ye Fanshuang didn't bother to talk nonsense. She pulled her phone out of her bag and opened the photo album. On the screen was a photo of Zhou Yuan slumped in a bar booth, her eyes unfocused, half a white pill in her hand. In the background, she could see a few disheveled boys.
Zhou Yuan froze after seeing the photo clearly. Her lips trembled, and the tears that suddenly welled up on her carefully applied eye makeup blurred, leaving two black marks on her face.
"Now, get out." Ye Fanshuang put away his phone, his voice as calm as if he was discussing the weather. "Otherwise, I don't mind letting the whole school appreciate Miss Zhou's heroic appearance."
Zhou Yuan's followers looked at each other, and no one dared to speak.
In the end, Zhou Yuan glared at Ye Fanshuang fiercely, turned around and staggered away. Her expensive Jimmy Choo shoes stepped into a puddle on the side of the road, and the splashing mud stained her stockings.
Ye Fanshuang watched her back disappear around the corner before slowly loosening her clenched fists - her nails had left four crescent-shaped red marks on her palms.
She doesn't like to threaten people, but some people just need to be taught a lesson.
On the way home, Ye Fanshuang passed by an antique shop. In the window was a silver cufflink engraved with an eagle with outstretched wings—almost identical to the one Ye Qingliu had worn back then.
She stood in front of the window for a long time until the owner came out and asked if she needed help.
"This," Ye Fanshuang pointed at the cufflink, "how much is it?"
"You have good taste, young lady," the shopkeeper said with a smile. "This is a British antique from the 1920s, completely hand-carved. There are no more than ten of these in the world."
Ye Fanshuang didn't bargain and just swiped the card.
When she put the velvet box containing the cufflinks into her schoolbag, she suddenly remembered the book "The Wealth of Nations" that Ye Qingliu was reading in the library today.
She remembered a sentence in the book: "What we pursue is never the value of the product itself, but the meaning it holds in our hearts."
Ye Fanshuang gently touched the box in his schoolbag, and the corners of his lips unconsciously raised into a very shallow arc.
She won't give up.
Liking Ye Qingliu is her own business and has nothing to do with anyone else.
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