Chapter 1
The windows in the high school classrooms seemed larger than those in the middle school, allowing sunlight to pour in more generously, illuminating the fine chalk dust dancing in the air. Zhao Jinglu sat in the fourth row by the window, diligently writing in a brand new notebook, recording the force analysis diagrams the physics teacher had drawn on the blackboard. Occasionally, her mind wandered, her gaze darting across the familiar playground outside the window, and for a moment, she felt as if she could still see herself strolling across the playground.
But this trance will soon be interrupted by the excitement around him.
Her new class, by some strange coincidence, was unusually high in boys, as if to compensate for her three years of all-girls junior high. Even more fortuitously, she formed a "half-circle of boys" with her at the center. This situation strangely brought back some of the freedom she'd felt as a child, chasing and playing among the boys. It was far more relaxing than the three years she'd spent in the all-girl dance class, where subtle competition reigned.
The first person to become familiar with her was her deskmate, Fan Chen. He was fair-skinned, a bit chubby, and looked elegant, but he loved to talk and had a good sense of humor. He could make people laugh with just a few words, and his classmates all liked him. On the first day of school, he turned his head to look at Zhao Jinglu for a few seconds, smoothing his hair. "Hey, look at me, have we met somewhere before? Elementary school? Kindergarten? In a previous life?"
Zhao Jinglu was stunned and looked carefully at the person next to her: "It seems... I've seen him somewhere before."
The two of them pondered for several classes. Finally!
"New Concept! Have you ever signed up for an English class?" Zhao Jinglu suddenly turned around and asked.
"Oh! Yes! Betty! Nice to see you again!"
"...Shh!"
"I was wondering why you looked so familiar. It turns out you're a friend from across the ocean." Fan Chen nodded in understanding. "Then don't count on each other's English from now on. We were manufactured in the same factory."
Zhao Jinglu: “…” Okay, this classmate is really “good at talking”.
This "previous connection" quickly dispelled the unfamiliarity. Fan Chen was surprisingly good at math, and when Zhao Jinglu occasionally got stuck on a difficult problem, he'd glance at her and quickly answer her with the simplest steps, adding a quick quip: "I already knew that problem before I met you." Sure enough, people with a sense of humor are often quite clever.
In the back seat was Wang Lei. He was tall, with striking features and a naturally tan hair, never dyed or permed, with a hint of corn silk. He was the kind of handsome guy who had girls from the next class secretly asking him his name within a few days of school. Unfortunately... he probably spent most of his brain cells maintaining that facade. When the Chinese teacher asked him about the author's "central idea," he blinked those beautiful yet bewildered eyes and sincerely asked, "Teacher, is it 'serving the country with all your heart and soul?'" The teacher was so angry that she threw a piece of chalk at him (missing). But he was simple and good-tempered. He didn't get upset when people laughed at him, just scratched his head and moved on, like a large, slightly silly mascot.
Diagonally behind him was Gao Xin, the physical education committee member and Wang Lei's deskmate. He had a nice figure, a healthy tan, was thorough and respectable, and his academic performance was above average. Whenever we had group experiments or group activities, he was always able to quickly sort out the procedures and assign responsibilities, acting more like a class monitor than a class monitor, and everyone trusted him. He seemed to have an innate ability to make everyone around him feel comfortable.
This wonderful combination of four people quickly produced a stable "chemical reaction" with almost no adjustment period.
The English teacher held her forehead with her hand. "Fan Chen, Wang Lei, Zhao Jinglu! What are you three whispering about again? Why don't you come up and tell us all about it?"
Zhao Jinglu and Wang Lei immediately fell silent and sat up straight.
"Teacher, I said my stomach hurts." Fan Chen said, holding his stomach.
"You insist on talking even though you are sick? You are pretty amazing." The teacher turned around and they winked at each other again.
Once, Zhao Jinglu returned from a half-day leave. As soon as she entered the classroom during break, Fan Chen led the charge, shouting, "Hey! Teacher Zhao's back! Applause!" Wang Lei immediately joined in, clapping his hands vigorously on the table. Gao Xin smiled and shook his head, but also clapped twice. This drew glances from the entire class, and a few girls rolled their eyes at her before the laughter finally died down.
Every morning, when the class monitor's call for homework came in a barrage, Wang Lei would piteously tug at Zhao Jinglu's sleeve, "Brother Lu! Please, lend me your copy!" Zhao Jinglu would mutter in disdain, "Can't you just write a little yourself?" but resignedly hand her own workbook over. This often delayed the group's submission, forcing Gao Xin to stand up and jokingly tell the class monitor, "Right away. How about asking someone else first?" Then he'd give them a helpless look.
During the free time in physical education class, the boys shouted to play basketball. Wang Lei took off his school uniform jacket and stuffed it into Zhao Jinglu's arms: "Brother Lu, help me hold it!" Fan Chen and Gao Xin followed suit, and soon, she had three or four loose, sweat-smelling boys' school uniforms in her arms, like a mobile clothes rack. She had no choice but to find a cool place under the basketball hoop to sit and watch them run and steal on the court. The sunlight shone through the gaps in the leaves, a little dazzling. When Wang Lei made a shot, he would wave at her with a particularly proud look, even though the shot was probably a fluke. She would make a "weak" gesture to him and watch him jump up and down.
The days were like the leaves of the old locust tree outside the classroom window, unfolding day by day in the sunshine and breeze, radiant green and filled with simple yet boisterous sounds. The lingering loneliness and bitterness of the end of junior high were gradually diluted by these daily, slightly childish banter.
She sometimes thought of Ling Peng, the senior with the bright smile and the wind on the court, and the time when no one knew about his secret attention. But that kind of remembrance was more like recalling a favorite passage in a closed book, a touch of melancholy, but no longer a persistent obsession.
Her life now was like a newly opened book, its chapters lively, its plot fresh, and brimming with a new kind of vibrant energy. She sat by the basketball court, clutching three or five boys' uniforms, watching her friends run clumsily but enthusiastically, and she felt that this was fine.
The new story is slowly unfolding in a way she never expected.
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