Old thorns and new wounds
The spring breeze carried a chill, scattering magnolia blossoms outside the studio window, white as snowflakes. I was mixing colors on my canvas when Lin Xi rushed in with her phone, shoving the screen in front of me: "Zhi Xia, look at this."
It was a post on the school forum with a jarring title: "Shocking! Physics genius and transfer student walk together in the rain, behaving intimately." The accompanying picture showed Zheng Yiming holding an umbrella, with a girl in a red trench coat standing beside him. He was slightly tilting his head to listen to her speak, with most of the umbrella tilted towards her. The background was the school gate in the rain from last week.
I recognize that girl.
Su Yaqi.
In the first semester of my first year of high school, before Li Zichen and I had completely fallen out, she would always stick to Li Zichen under the guise of "asking for help with questions," send him ambiguous messages, deliberately bump into me in the hallway, and finally even give him a hand-knitted scarf on his birthday—it was from that moment that I completely gave up on Li Zichen.
Unexpectedly, she transferred schools and returned after only half a year.
"Who's this? She looks familiar." Meng Meng leaned closer to look, frowning. "Isn't she that girl who used to always be all over Li Zichen?"
Lin Xi clicked her tongue: "You really came back at the worst possible time. Look at how tilted Zheng Yiming's umbrella is, anyone who didn't know better would think they were a couple."
My fingers gripped the paintbrush, the paint spreading in the palette in a murky gray, like a fog suddenly descending on my heart. "Maybe it was just a coincidence," I said, trying to keep my voice calm, but the trembling in my fingertips betrayed me.
"A coincidence?" Lin Xi pointed to Su Yaqi's little gesture of linking arms with Zheng Yiming in the photo. "You call this a coincidence? Zhi Xia, don't be too careless. This woman looks like she's up to no good."
That afternoon's painting was never finished. The magnolia blossoms on the canvas were a mess, like shattered moonlight.
When school was over, Zheng Yiming was waiting for me downstairs at the art studio, holding my favorite strawberry candied hawthorn in his hand, and smiling as cleanly as ever: "Have you been waiting long? The physics teacher went overtime today."
I looked at him, but didn't take the candied hawthorn or say anything.
The smile on his face slowly faded: "What's wrong? Are you unhappy?"
"Su Yaqi is back, did you know?" I tried to keep my tone calm, but the words still carried a hint of unspoken bitterness.
He paused for a moment, then nodded: "I know, her parents were transferred back to their original jobs and were assigned to the third shift."
"Did you get caught in the rain together at the school gate today?"
“I did run into her,” he explained. “She didn’t have an umbrella, and since it was on my way, I took her to the station.”
"On the way?" I remembered the photo of her linking arms with him, and my heart clenched as if something had squeezed it. "Does being on the way require us to be so close?"
“Zhi Xia,” he frowned, his tone tinged with helplessness, “she’s just an ordinary classmate, don’t overthink it.”
"How much do I think?" These words pierced my forced calm like a thorn. "Don't you know how she treated me before? She did it on purpose!"
“That’s all in the past. She’s been away from school for so long, she’s probably changed by now.” He reached out to touch me, but I dodged him.
"Change?" I laughed, a laugh that trembled slightly. "A leopard can't change its spots! Zheng Yiming, do you think she's better than me? More sensible than me? More..."
"What nonsense are you talking about?" His voice rose. "When did I say that? Just because of a photo, you're going to think this way about me?"
The wind swept up magnolia petals from the ground, scattering them at our feet like a silent mockery. Looking at the disappointment in his eyes, I suddenly felt wronged—I was the one who was hurt, so why did it seem like I was the one being unreasonable?
"I don't want to talk about it anymore." I turned and walked away, tears welling up in my eyes.
"Zhi Xia!" he called me from behind, his voice urgent, but I didn't turn around.
In the following days, we fell into a cold war.
He messaged me, but I didn't reply; he wanted to sit across from me in the cafeteria, but I deliberately moved next to Linxi; he put his competition notes in my desk drawer, and I returned them untouched.
Su Yaqi, as if she had timed it perfectly, frequently appeared by Zheng Yiming's side.
Waiting for him outside the physics office to discuss problems together, holding the same notebook as him; watching him play ball on the playground, "accidentally" touching his hand while handing him water; even blocking the entrance to the art studio at the end of the art club activity, smiling and saying, "Zheng Yiming, when is it convenient for me to return the physics competition book I borrowed from you last time?"
Every time she appeared, I would be met with subtle glances from those around me, as if watching a farce about to unfold.
Lin Xi felt indignant on my behalf: "That woman is disgusting, she's clearly provoking me! Zheng Yiming too, couldn't he just stay away from her?"
Mengmeng pulled me aside: "Ignore them, let's draw our own."
How could I not care?
Su Yaqi's existence was like a rusty thorn, not only stuck between Zheng Yiming and me, but also stuck in my unbearable past. I remembered the days when she and Li Zichen mocked me, the nights I secretly cried, and the fading scars on my arms—panic surged up like a tide, almost drowning me.
During free time in PE class on Friday afternoon, I sat in the stands and watched Zheng Yiming and Su Yaqi talking under the basketball hoop. Su Yaqi was laughing so hard she was shaking, and she gently put her hand on his arm, and he didn't even flinch.
At that moment, something inside me shattered.
It's like a wound that had finally healed being ripped open again, leaving it bleeding profusely.
Without saying goodbye, I went straight back to the classroom. There was a utility knife in my bag, which I found while tidying up old things last week and forgot to throw away. When my fingertips touched the cold blade, I felt a twisted sense of familiarity—as if only pain could prove that I was still "alive".
The corridor was deserted. I slipped into the stairwell and locked the door behind me. The sharp pain as the blade sliced across my wrist brought me to my senses for a moment, but mostly it was a numb sense of relief.
"What are you doing?!"
Zheng Yiming's voice suddenly rang out, filled with shock, anger, and disbelief. He had appeared at the stairwell at some point, and when he saw the blood on my wrist, his eyes instantly turned red. He rushed over, snatched the utility knife from my hand, and threw it violently to the ground.
"Shen Zhixia! Are you crazy?!" He grabbed my wrist, his voice trembling uncontrollably, and pressed a tissue against the wound. "Who told you to do this? Huh?!"
Blood seeped through the tissue, staining his fingertips red. Looking at the panic and anger in his eyes, I suddenly found it ridiculous: "Didn't you say you didn't care? Wasn't she better than me? My death will just fulfill your wishes."
"I care! How could I not care!" he growled, his eyes red and swollen, as if he was about to cry. "There's nothing between us! I've already made it clear to her and told her not to look for me anymore! It's my fault, I didn't handle it well, and you've suffered... Please don't do this to yourself, okay?"
His voice was choked with sobs, and his hand pressing on the wound was so hard it almost crushed my bones, but I couldn't feel the pain anymore.
“Zheng Yiming,” I looked at him, and tears finally fell. “I’m so scared… I’m scared that you’ll end up like Li Zichen. I’m scared that she’ll take you away. I’m scared… that I’ll be alone again.”
Those deep-seated fears, those old wounds stirred up by Su Yaqi, finally burst forth at this moment. I cried my heart out in his arms like a lost child.
He held me tightly, his chin resting on the top of my head, his voice hoarse: "No, Zhixia, never."
“I’ve already made things clear with Su Yaqi. She won’t come near us again.” He gently patted my back, like comforting a frightened kitten. “It’s my fault. I didn’t tell you sooner, which made you overthink and suffer so much… I’m sorry, I’m really sorry.”
The stairwell was dimly lit, but his embrace was exceptionally warm, carrying a reassuring strength. The pain in my wrist was still there, but the panic in my heart gradually dissipated with the sound of his voice.
Turns out, I'm still just as useless.
I'll still waver because of a few words from others, I'll still hurt myself because of the shadows of the past, and I'm still so afraid of losing him.
"Don't do this again," he cupped my face, wiping away my tears with his fingertips, his eyes overflowing with heartache. "Whatever happens, we'll face it together. Don't carry it all alone anymore, and don't hurt yourself, okay?"
I looked into his red eyes and nodded, like a sinner who had been forgiven.
He carefully treated my wound, put on a band-aid, and then took my hand, leading me step by step out of the stairwell. Sunlight streamed in through the corridor windows, falling on our clasped hands, carrying a comforting warmth.
Maybe I'm still not strong enough, maybe the scars of the past will never completely disappear, maybe we'll still argue and get hurt because of these things in the future.
But at least for now, he's by my side.
That's enough.
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