Frozen Warm Sun
Li Zichen's self-criticism was posted in the most conspicuous place on the bulletin board, red background and black words, like an ugly scar. Passing students would always stop and glance at it, then whisper among themselves, their eyes intentionally or unintentionally glancing in my direction, with a look of inquiry and a hint of something indescribable.
I became a "celebrity" in the whole school. The girl whose classmates spread rumors about me and even took the matter to the principal.
Zheng Yiming never contacted me again.
In physics class, he sat diagonally in front of me, his back ramrod straight, like a block of ice that refused to melt. When the teacher asked questions, he still answered fluently and accurately, but his gaze no longer secretly glanced in my direction as it used to.
The competition coaching sessions became the most agonizing time. We were grouped together, but it felt like there was an invisible river between us. When he explained the problems, his voice was calm and flat, without any further explanation. When I asked questions, he only responded with the most concise language, and his eyes had lost their former warmth.
Lin Xi and Meng Meng sensed something was wrong and subtly asked us what was wrong. I just shook my head and said, "Nothing," and they didn't press me further. They simply shielded me from their malicious gazes.
Once in the cafeteria, Li Zichen was carrying his tray past our table when he deliberately bumped into me, spilling soup on my school uniform and leaving a large oil stain. "Sorry, I didn't see it," he said with a provocative smile, his malice in his eyes undisguised.
"What are you doing!" Lin Xi suddenly stood up, ready to argue with him.
"Forget it." I pulled her back, my voice as calm as still water. Arguing with someone like that would only dirty my mouth.
I picked up a tissue to wipe the oil stains, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Zheng Yiming sitting not far away. He frowned, but just lowered his head and continued eating, as if he hadn't seen anything.
The last vestiges of hope in my heart have completely vanished.
It turns out that his protection also has an expiration date. When I was no longer the "sensible" and "patient" Shen Zhixia, he felt it was superfluous to even glance at me.
The autumn rain started again, drizzling like tears falling from a broken string. I didn't bring an umbrella and stood at the entrance of the teaching building, staring blankly at the rain. At this time in the past, Zheng Yiming would always appear in front of me with an umbrella, tilting most of it towards me.
But now, his figure has long since disappeared into the rain.
"Didn't bring an umbrella?" A voice sounded from behind. It was Zhou Hang, holding a large umbrella and smiling shyly. "I'll walk you to the alley entrance; it's on my way."
"Thank you." I nodded and stepped under his umbrella.
The umbrella was large enough to fit two people, yet it still felt spacious. Zhou Hang didn't talk much, only occasionally saying things like "Watch your step" or "The rain seems to be stopping," but the atmosphere wasn't awkward; it was like the gentle breeze of early autumn, so mild it made you feel at ease.
When I reached the alley entrance, the rain had indeed lessened a bit. "Thank you," I said again.
"You're welcome." He scratched his head. "Zheng Yiming... he actually regrets it quite a bit."
I was stunned for a moment.
“That day in the office, he had a fight with his dad, saying he shouldn’t have forced you to forgive Li Zichen.” Zhou Hang looked at me with sincere eyes. “He just… cares too much about what others think, always trying to please everyone, and ended up getting himself into trouble.”
I didn't say anything. My heart felt like it had been gently bumped by something, a little sour and a little bitter.
“He asked me to give this to you.” Zhou Hang took a notebook out of his bag and handed it to me. “He said it was… a key note for the competition.”
The notebook was brand new, with a clumsy cat drawn on the cover, like some of his previous drawings. I took the notebook; my fingertips were a little cold. "Thank him for me."
Zhou Hang nodded, turned around, and walked into the rain.
I stood at the alley entrance, looking at that notebook, and suddenly felt incredibly tired. Forgive him? Or not? It didn't seem to matter anymore. What mattered was that I could never go back to being the person who could trust him without reservation.
Like a frozen lake, even when spring comes and the ice melts, the water underneath is no longer at the same temperature.
When I got home, I placed the notebook on my desk, next to the sketchbook filled with cat drawings. They were like two silent symbols, recording a period of time that went from warm to cold.
I had a dream last night. I dreamt I was back in that rainy studio, and Zheng Yiming was standing in front of me, saying, "It was my fault," but I couldn't see his face clearly. When I woke up, my pillow was wet, and the rain was still falling outside the window, tapping on the glass, like a lament for that dead trust.
The next day at school, I returned the new notebook to Zhou Hang: "Please return it to Zheng Yiming. Thank you for your kindness, but my competition notes are already organized."
Zhou Hang paused for a moment, took the notebook, and hesitated before asking, "Zhi Xia, won't you reconsider?"
"No." I smiled, my heart at peace. "Some things, once broken, can never be put back together."
Like trust, like that warmth that we once thought could spread like wildfire.
On the day of the physics competition, the weather was beautiful. Sunlight streamed through the exam room windows, falling brightly on the exam papers. I sat by the window, and Zheng Yiming sat diagonally behind me, three rows apart, as if separated by an entire late autumn.
As we passed each other at the door while handing in our papers, he stopped, his lips moved as if he wanted to say something.
"I wish you good luck on your studies," I said first, my voice calm and even.
His eyes darkened, but he ultimately just nodded: "You too."
In the fleeting moment as we brushed past each other, I caught a faint scent of soap on him, like smelling a piece of expired time. There was no sadness, no anger, only a calm that felt like the dust had settled.
Perhaps, this is the best ending.
We ultimately became passersby in each other's lives, each carrying our own regrets and growth, and heading down different paths.
The osmanthus blossoms outside the examination hall had long since fallen, leaving only bare branches stretching out in the sunlight, as if bidding farewell to the past and welcoming the cold winter.
I wrapped my school uniform jacket tighter around myself and headed towards the school gate. The wind was strong, making my eyes sting, but it also helped me stay alert.
The road ahead is long, and there may be storms and loneliness. But that's okay. I've learned to hold my own umbrella and find warmth for myself in the cold.
Just like now, the sunlight falls on me, faint yet enough to illuminate the path beneath my feet.
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