Birthday song under beauty filter
The setting sun cast long shadows in the classroom. The school bell had long since rung, and only Mo Sha remained in the classroom. Liang Cai and Luo Li went home with Jian Peng and Wang Mo first, Lan Kongque accompanied Chen Sisi to the music room, Fei Ling went with Qi Na to buy a new tarot deck cover, and even Shu Yan and Mo Li were called by the teacher to help tidy up the library.
Mo Sha lay on the table, her fingers repeatedly stroking the small, multicolored stone in her pocket. The coolness of her fingertips seemed to penetrate her skin and touch the softest part of her heart. Today was her father's birthday, the father who loved collecting stones, the father with a leg disability, the father who would secretly slip her candy and say, "Qingqing, may you always be happy."
She pulled her phone out of her bag, and the moment the screen lit up, it revealed a flawlessly beautiful face—long, curled eyelashes, fair skin, and cherry-like lips—the beloved child star, Mo Sha. But as she looked at the screen, she slowly frowned, raising her hand to wipe her cheek, as if trying to remove an invisible filter.
"I'm someone who lives under beauty filters."
She repeated it softly, her voice choked with sobs she herself didn't even realize. Before, when Huangshi was around, she could still throw a tantrum at him and confide in him, but now that Huangshi was gone, there was no one left to listen to her.
In her phone's contacts, there was an unmarked number. It was her father's number, but ever since her mother changed her name to Mo Sha, that number had never been dialed. She remembered that day her mother, with red eyes, told her that her father didn't want to drag her down, didn't want her career to be tarnished.
Mo Sha's finger hovered above the screen, trembling, and several times she almost pressed it down, only to suddenly pull it back.
She was afraid—afraid that the cold busy tone would come from the other end of the phone, afraid to hear that familiar yet unfamiliar voice say, "You've dialed the wrong number," and even more afraid that she would burst into tears, letting others see that even the "perfect Mo Sha" would shed tears.
A gust of wind slipped in through the cracks in the window, rustling the exercise books on the table. Mo Sha sniffed, buried her face in her arms, and her shoulders swayed gently. She remembered when she was little, before her father's accident, he would hold her and sit in the yard, telling her stories about stones. He said that every stone had its own temperament, like a rough rock, which looked hard but actually had a soft heart.
Happy birthday, Dad.
She muffled her voice, her lips pressed against her arms, thick with a nasal tone. "I miss you so much... I can protect the big rock now, and I can protect myself. Could you... could you look at me again?"
No one answered her. Only the sound of the wind passing through the classroom, like a soft sigh.
After an unknown amount of time, Mo Sha looked up, wiped away her tears with the back of her hand, and then flashed a big smile at her phone screen, exactly like the glamorous child star in front of the camera. She opened her contacts and gently pressed the familiar number.
Beep—beep—beep—
The dial tone echoed in the empty classroom, striking her heart again and again.
Mo Sha didn't hang up. She just held up her phone and softly sang a birthday song into the busy signal.
Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you...
Her voice was soft and slightly off-key, yet incredibly earnest. As she sang the last line, tears welled up and fell, splashing onto the screen and creating a wet patch.
Just then, the five-colored stone in my pocket suddenly became slightly warm.
Mo Sha froze, then looked down and took out the stone. At the heart of the stone, a faint golden light shone. The light was very faint, yet incredibly warm, as if someone had gently patted her shoulder, or as if Huang Shi had whispered in her ear, "Sha Sha, don't cry."
She held the stone and suddenly laughed, tears still on her face, but her smile was dazzlingly bright.
"Big Stone, I know you're here," she whispered to the stone. "I'll wait for you to come back. When you come back, I'll take you to see Daddy, okay?"
The golden light shone brighter, as if in response to her.
Mo Sha put her phone away, carefully tucked the colorful stone into her bosom, then slung her backpack over her shoulder and walked out of the classroom with her head held high. The setting sun shone on her, gilding her shadow with a golden edge.
She is Mo Sha, living under a beauty filter, and also Mo Qing, who misses her father.
In the shadows of the trees at the street corner, Hu Lilian's figure flashed by. She looked at Mo Sha's back, a complex emotion flickering in her eyes, which was then replaced by a sinister look. Her gaze finally settled on the small figure in the distance, skipping and hopping along, holding her second sister's hand—Wen Zike.
You're next.
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