Chapter Eight: He Is Unlike Anyone Else

Ye Mian rubbed her face, her mouth feeling dry. She picked up her small water bottle and noticed a bottle of orange soda placed beside it.

The classroom was sweltering, and condensation had formed on the surface of the orange soda bottle, yet it still felt cold to the touch.

In summer, the feeling of something cold is particularly pleasant.

But…

Ye Mian gripped the soda, puzzled. She turned to Jiang Yuan, who was copying homework beside her, and asked, “Yuan Yuan, who left this soda here?”

“Wasn’t it yours?” Jiang Yuan didn’t even lift her eyelids. “It was here when I came back. Have you finished your math homework? I need help—let me take a look.”

Ye Mian handed over her math workbook, then thought for a moment and placed the cold soda back where it was.

Better not to drink something of unknown origin.

…

After school, the sun outside was still blazing.

It was already September, but the weather in River City remained unforgivingly hot. Ye Mian took her phone out of her bag: today’s temperature was thirty-six degrees.

Neither of them had brought an umbrella.

Jiang Yuan, feeling the heat, placed a book on her head before daring to step into the sunlight.

Ye Mian made no attempt to shield herself, carefully keeping her head down as she walked across the asphalt road, which seemed to shimmer with a layer of blue smoke from the sun’s baking.

The wound on her knee sent thin, prickling waves of pain now and then, so she dared not walk too quickly.

Suddenly, Jiang Yuan remembered something. After only a couple of steps, she grabbed Ye Mian’s hand, furtively glancing around and urging, “Mian Mian, bear with the pain and walk faster. Let’s run to the back gate—if the people from Class Six catch us, it’ll be trouble.”

Ye Mian looked at the distant back gate and remembered the matter of being cornered.

She stared at the sky, blinking, feeling both helpless and amused. “Yuan Yuan, are we really going to take the long way to the back gate every day just to avoid them?”

In a law-abiding society.

Having to detour around the whole campus every day just to dodge a fight.

Especially in this heat.

Just thinking about it gave her a headache.

“It’s fine, the back gate has a bus stop—once we get on, it won’t be hot anymore.”

Jiang Yuan said this, but how could it not be hot? She was panting, her plump little face covered in sweat, yet she still didn’t let go of Ye Mian’s hand.

The two of them had similar grades and had spent most of high school together. To Jiang Yuan, Ye Mian was her best friend.

Not abandoning or giving up was the basic rule of friendship.

Ye Mian stopped walking. She knew Jiang Yuan was looking out for her, but she couldn’t bear to let her adorable friend be dragged into trouble.

So she released Jiang Yuan’s hand, pinched her cheek, and smiled, “Yuan Yuan, listen to me. You go out through the main gate. I’ll wait here for my dad to pick me up. With him here, they won’t dare do anything.”

Jiang Yuan was suspicious. “Your dad’s back?”

Ye Mian nodded with a smile. “Yes, he’s back.”

“But isn’t your dad really busy? Why would he suddenly come back?” Jiang Yuan sensed something was off.

“I’ve been back at school for two days now. He’d definitely come home—otherwise, no one would take care of me.”

Ye Mian’s expression was so calm, her bright eyes gently curved, her smile warm and serene, showing not the slightest hint of worry.

Jiang Yuan hesitated for a moment, then nodded, believing her. “Then wait here. Don’t leave until your dad arrives. I’m heading home first.”

“Alright.” Ye Mian smiled and nodded, the breeze lifting her school uniform skirt.

She watched Jiang Yuan slowly walk out of the school gate, then, only after she was gone, Ye Mian leisurely dragged her feet to leave as well.

—

Outside the school gate, crowds had already gathered. A main road connected to many branching alleys, flanked by shops and stalls selling snacks.

Students clustered in front of all the stalls, and Ye Mian occasionally caught the scent of fried food drifting to her nose.

About fifty meters from the gate, there was a shady internet café. Nearly every day after school, a group of delinquent students gathered at its entrance, smoking or gaming.

If her guess was right, if those people were waiting to corner her, they’d be lurking in the alley beside the internet café.

Ye Mian sighed, took out her phone and dialed emergency services, then flexed her knee; as expected, pain surged, but she could still move.

Just in case, she sprayed some cool medicine on her wound.

If someone tried to grab her, she wouldn’t just stand there and let them bully her. She’d have to kick back—if she managed to hit one hard, the others would think twice.

As for escaping, she hadn’t considered it.

Those troublemakers had plenty of ways to find her; running wouldn’t help.

Once she was ready, Ye Mian walked briskly toward the internet café.

Familiar scenery flashed before her eyes—the café was as cramped and dingy as ever, with no sign hanging out front, inconspicuous compared to the surrounding shops.

The only thing different today was that the group of delinquents outside the café had vanished, leaving the area oddly empty.

A fallen leaf brushed against Ye Mian’s foot. She turned to look into the dark alley.

September’s wind swept away the lingering heat, and she saw Jiang Chen.

The young man stood in the alley, lazily leaning against the wall.

…

Ye Mian stopped in her tracks, and her water bottle slipped from her hand to the ground.

She didn’t bend to pick it up; she simply stared, dazed, toward where the young man stood.

The next moment, she met his slightly upturned, almond-shaped eyes.

Her breath grew rapid.

The air itself seemed to thin and slow.

The school uniform jacket he wore, neat and proper that morning, was now stained with bright red blood. His gaze fell softly on Ye Mian’s fair face, and his lips curved into a gentle smile.

Ye Mian turned her head away, feeling lost for the first time.

The Jiang Chen in her memory, apart from the ending, had always been a positive figure in everyone’s eyes: gentle, aloof, Jiang Chen.

But as time rewound all those years, he seemed so different from the image she had in her mind.

Ye Mian suddenly recalled that dream again, but it was so long ago she could no longer remember the details.

Biting her lip, she found herself unable to move forward.

Jiang Chen had already come out, bent down to pick up the water bottle at her feet, and slowly wiped off the dirt with his pale, slender fingers.

He handed the bottle to her. “Your bottle. Take it.”

Ye Mian took the bottle from his hand, holding it close to her chest, catching a faint scent of cedar at her nose.

She tilted her head up, her eyes shining with a smile, her tone soft. “Thank you.”

Jiang Chen suddenly turned to look at her, then lowered his gaze to meet hers, staring quietly into her eyes as he asked, word by word, “Thank me for what?”

His voice was so cold, trailing off into a gentle, lazy cadence.

Ye Mian felt the temperature around her sink, endured the pain, and slowly followed behind him. “Thank you for picking up my water bottle.”

…

A brief silence.

Jiang Chen stared into her eyes, his hand clutching his jacket trembling slightly. He let out a faint, ambiguous laugh. “Alright, you’re welcome. Let’s go home.”