sorry
Lu Yuan has been quite troubled lately. His elementary and middle school classmate, Fu Jia, keeps calling him. And every time, she starts with trivial questions like, "How have you been lately?" or "The weather is nice today," and then rambles on for a while before casually asking, "How's Xia Xiaotong today?" Then she starts asking Xia Xiaotong all sorts of questions.
When Fu Jia called for the twenty-first time this month, and asked for the twelfth time, "How was your day?" even the usually mild-mannered Lu Yuan lost his patience: "Everything went smoothly for me today, and the weather was nice too. If I were to actually discuss last night's game with you, you'd probably get really anxious and frustrated. I'm not God, how would I know how your Xia Tong is feeling today, whether she's unhappy or depressed? I don't have a voyeuristic tendency, and I don't know who she walks with after school, to school, or to lunch. If you really want her, can you just come to our school? I promise I'll take you right to their classroom door."
"..." Fu Jia was speechless for a moment, then made up her mind: "I can't go."
"Why not? Did you break your leg or hit your head and get lost?" Lu Yuan found it very hard to understand.
"Damn it! Enough with the nonsense, are we even brothers?!"
"Sorry, I don't have surveillance capabilities, nor do I provide paparazzi services. You'll have to find someone else!"
Fu Jia was speechless.
Lu Yuan was speechless.
"What use is a brother like you?!"
"Anyway, you can't just use it whenever you want!"
"You're so cruel!"
Goodbye and best of luck.
Fu Jia slammed down the phone angrily, and Lu Yuan followed suit calmly. Phew, finally no more of those relentless calls.
After enduring for more than a month, Fu Jia finally couldn't resist and decided to secretly visit her on Christmas Eve.
For Chinese people, Christmas Eve should be the most ordinary night, but after being hyped up by all-powerful businesses, it has become a good time for young couples still in school to express their feelings.
It was deep winter, and snow had begun to fall from the sky since evening. The small snowflakes landed silently, and even after a long time, the cement paths on campus remained dry. The wind outside the window was cold and damp, but Xia Tong, sitting in the classroom, felt a warmth in her heart, clutching an apple in her hand. Strictly speaking, a well-packaged Red Delicious apple. She was leaning over the desk, seemingly reading a book, but her mind was actually on the apple tucked under the desk. She didn't actually like eating it, but she cherished it greatly because of the person who gave it to her.
She lay lazily on the table, her mind filled with the scene of Tan Zhihao calling her out of the classroom and handing her an apple. She carefully recalled his shy smile with his hands in his pockets after giving her the apple, and how he awkwardly scratched the back of his head, then shrugged and said, "I heard everyone eats apples on Christmas Eve, so I gave you one in case you didn't have any." That short, less than two-minute scene had been playing on repeat in her mind for a full two hours.
The long-awaited school bell finally rang. Outside, some mischievous boys whistled, others sang off-key songs; everyone felt an unusual excitement and joy on this ordinary night. Xia Tong grabbed an apple and ran out, but didn't see Tan Zhihao. She felt a pang of disappointment, her steps slowing and becoming heavy. She kept looking around, and finally saw Tan Zhihao smiling at her from the bottom of the corridor. At that moment, she knew she would never forget this extraordinary night, and she would never experience such overwhelming joy again.
The snow in the darkness, illuminated by the dim streetlights, resembled swirling moths, possessing an indescribable beauty. Xia Tong and Tan Zhihao walked slowly, neither wanting to hurry. They chatted idly, discussing the most mundane topics with surprising interest. Completely oblivious to the dark soul standing beneath the streetlights, coldly watching them.
There are some people who, no matter how high or brightly they stand, you will never see. These are the people you don't love.
Fu Jia had never seen Xia Xiaotong with such an expression—shy, adoring, and blindingly happy, so infuriating. She was actually so happy without him. He stared at her angrily, almost defiantly, wanting to know when she would notice him. But she didn't. She was truly focused on talking to the boy beside her. A casual remark from him could make her smile, even pout and act coquettishly. What Fu Jia had couldn't believe was easily understood through her expressions and every move.
Tan Zhihao glanced several times at the boy staring at him under the streetlight. The boy was someone who could make any young man wary and hostile. While everyone else was bundled up in down jackets and cotton coats like bears, he was only wearing a fitted overcoat. He was tall and slender, and although his face couldn't be seen, his extraordinary bearing was evident.
Just as the two of them were about to walk past Fu Jia together, Fu Jia finally lost her temper and stepped in front of Xia Tong, questioning her: "Who is he?" It was like an angry husband accusing his wife of cheating.
Xia Tong was startled by the sudden appearance of the figure. She screamed and hid next to Tan Zhihao, tightly grabbing his sleeve like a frightened little animal.
When Fu Jia saw that Xia Xiaotong was tightly holding someone else's arm, her anger flared up instantly. She grabbed Xia Xiaotong and pulled her to her side with brute force.
"Who are you? Let her go!" Tan Zhihao immediately pushed Fu Jia, trying to protect Xia Tong who was being forcibly dragged away, but Xia Tong had already been pulled behind Fu Jia. Tan Zhihao was just an ordinary, thin boy, unlike Fu Jia, who had developed excellent fighting skills from childhood mischief. Naturally, he was no match for him. But Fu Jia had to hold back Xia Tong, who was struggling to break free, with one hand, and deal with Tan Zhihao, who was constantly entangled with him, with the other. For a moment, he even wondered if he had always been, or perhaps always would be, isolated like this?
Fu Jia was fed up with this harassment. He quickly released Xia Xiaotong, grabbed Tan Zhihao by the collar with his free hand, and punched him with his other hand. It wasn't a full-force punch, but it still made Tan Zhihao stagger back a step. As his hand quickly reached back to grab Xia Xiaotong's hand, she had already rushed over to support Tan Zhihao, anxiously touching his injured nose and repeatedly asking if he was alright. Just as Fu Jia came over to pull them apart again, Xia Tong, like a mother hen protecting her chicks, spread her arms to shield Tan Zhihao behind her.
Fu Jia sneered: You think I'm going to hit him again? I don't have the time for that. He had just grabbed her hand when he felt a sharp pain in his forehead. He groaned in agony and bent over. When he looked up again, he was utterly astonished to see a bunch of keys in Xia Xiaotong's hand. These ordinary objects had become weapons; the small, sharp tips of the keys were stained with blood.
Xia Tong hadn't expected to hit him so hard. She only wanted him to stop; she just wanted Tan Zhihao to be safe. But she couldn't believe that Fu Jia, who had always been as strong as an iron wall, could be injured so easily. What she didn't know was that Fu Jia, who had been mischievous since childhood and capable of anything, actually didn't have a single scar on his body. It wasn't that he had never been injured; rather, he had always been pampered and protected to the fullest extent.
Xia Tong was still holding onto Tan Zhihao, but she covered her mouth and stared in disbelief at Fu Jia, who was bleeding profusely.
Fu Jia looked at the two people still struggling together. He touched his forehead; his palm was wet. "I must be badly injured, right? Otherwise, why would my reflection in her eyes look so grotesque and pained? I must be badly injured, otherwise, why would her expression be so fearful and desperate? But I must not be badly injured enough, right? Otherwise, why hasn't she come to comfort me? I must not be badly injured enough; she hasn't even come to see me."
But it really hurts so much...
The cold snow now acted as a pain reliever, gradually numbing the pain in his wounds. The previously graceful snowflakes had now clumped together into pellets, which were being slammed hard against Fu Jiajun's handsome but disheveled face by the biting wind.
Xia Tong's tears streamed down her face. She dropped the blood-stained key from her hand and said in a trembling voice, "Fu Jia, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."
Fu Jia felt the blood flowing down his forehead, wetting his eyelashes and misting his eyes. He could no longer see her sobbing face clearly, nor the frightened expression on her face. All he could hear was her broken, repeated words: "I'm sorry, Fu Jia."
He was actually a little dizzy and unsteady on his feet. But he still forced himself to say, "Who needs your apology?" and then walked away alone.
Stop crying, who wants your apology?
Don't cry.
The howling wind and snow tugged at his coat, making it even harder for him to walk. He covered his forehead, his steps unsteady. The streetlights cast his shadow long, long, and in this vast backdrop, only two lovers watched him walk away.
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