Even though it was summer vacation, there were still faculty coming and going at the School, so the entrance gate wasn’t locked.
Cheng Orange and Shen Yao laid their bicycles across the empty space in front of the School, eyeing the Old Man Security Guard reading his newspaper inside the Security Pavilion, not knowing what to do.
If it were during regular school days, they could plead with the security guard and maybe slip into the School, but now that it was the summer holiday, no matter how much they tried to persuade him, the Old Man Security Guard would never let them in.
But if they couldn’t enter the School, how could they find Qiao Yunxue?
Just as Shen Yao hesitated, Cheng Orange’s eyes lit up. “I’ve got an idea! Do you remember how we sneaked into the playground during the fifth grade final exams?”
Shen Yao nodded. “Leave it to you!”
Cheng Orange chuckled mischievously and trotted toward the Security Pavilion.
The Old Man Security Guard, seeing a student, immediately widened his eyes. “You’re not allowed in! Which school are you from?”
Cheng Orange put on a tearful face. “Uncle, I go to this middle school. I left something really important inside. Can I go in and get it?”
The Old Man Security Guard’s expression turned stern. “No!”
“I already told our Homeroom Teacher, and she said I could come get it.”
“Ask your Homeroom Teacher to fetch it for you. You are not allowed inside.” The Old Man Security Guard’s face was rigid.
Cheng Orange looked about to cry. “It’s really urgent!” As she reached for the keys on the table, the Old Man Security Guard grew even more anxious. “Hey, little girl, what are you doing!”
The moment the Old Man Security Guard’s attention shifted, Shen Yao, who had been crouching outside the Security Pavilion, darted inside, slipping past into the School. He even shot Cheng Orange a thumbs-up.
Cheng Orange pouted. “If you won’t let me in, fine, be that way! So stingy!” She turned her back and slowly left the Security Pavilion, waiting just outside the campus gate under the Old Man Security Guard’s wary gaze.
—————
Summer evenings lingered late.
The Teaching Building was bathed in a golden glow, with unknown flying insects dancing in the light, making the scene seem dreamlike. Most faculty stayed around the Faculty Housing, so the Teaching Building was completely empty.
At a glance, every Classroom was shut tight, with chairs stacked atop desks inside.
As he ran up the stairs, Shen Yao passed by walls lined with Promotional Stickers: “Four Diligences, Three Good Habits, Two Knowings, Two Meetings, Keep SARS away from you and me; The sea of learning is boundless, diligence is the boat of hardship, there is a path up the mountain of books, diligence is the way…”
Shen Yao ran to his own Classroom and found the door ajar. Someone had been here—and had pried open the lock.
“Qiao Yunxue!”
He shoved the door open, but the red-haired girl was nowhere in sight.
Not here?
Shen Yao hesitated for a moment, then walked over to the Ceiling Fan switch, pulling on the Rope—but the fan didn’t move. Of course it didn’t. The Main Power Switch of the Teaching Building was off; naturally, the Ceiling Fan wouldn’t spin.
So where had Qiao Yunxue gone?
The air was scorching, and cicadas shrieked endlessly outside. This summer was unbearably hot—even the dusk light seemed to sear his skin. Shen Yao leaned against the corridor railing, looking over the empty School grounds. Gradually, the hope in his heart faded.
What was he hoping for anyway? Qiao Yunxue had come here two days ago—that’s forty-eight hours. Did he really believe Qiao Yunxue was still alive?
Cheng Orange was right; Qiao Yunxue was probably already…
It was a strange feeling. He’d been so tired of her, but upon hearing the news of her death, it was as if something was blocking his chest.
Shen Yao sat in the corridor, took out his phone, and looked at the gray avatar in his QQ friend list. Beneath her profile picture was a Status Message: Equal Hatred for All.
You win. You hated the world and got your revenge on it.
You threw your hatred at the world, yet left so much attachment behind for others. Truly a cruel and selfish person.
If Qiao Yunxue hadn’t mailed that box of tapes, maybe Shen Yao wouldn’t be this melancholy. But she had done exactly that.
Suddenly, Shen Yao’s gaze fell on a bit of plastic trash on the corridor floor.
He’d been in a hurry before and hadn’t noticed, but looking closely now, wasn’t this just a Bread Wrapper from those small buns sold at any convenience store? Didn’t they do a major clean-up before summer break? Why would there be trash here?
Shen Yao picked up the trash, thought for a moment, and started up the stairs.
When he reached the fourth floor, a faint song drifted to his ears:
“Up ahead, there is no direction
On my body, my clothes are all gone
Blood, seeping from my wings
My tears soak my chest
Flying, enduring pain
Escaping the hunter’s gun
My feet have lost all feeling
My heart is snowed in with cold
Dearest mother, beloved friends…”
…
The sound came from the Rooftop—the same place where Shen Yao had first agreed to join Qiao Yunxue in exploring mysterious secrets.
He climbed the stairs and, sure enough, saw that the Rooftop door had been opened. Golden afterglow streamed in through the crack.
He opened the door and saw a scene he would never forget in his lifetime:
The girl’s red hair danced in the wind, like a flag proclaiming victory. Frail and thin, she sat atop the railing, a Recording Device at her side, her feet dangling over a sheer drop. Yet she wasn’t afraid at all; instead, she softly hummed along with the song playing from the Recording Device.
“Silent earth, silent sky
Red blood continues to flow
Even if I bear wounds forever
At least I still possess freedom
Fly, soar in the sky
Blow, ruthless wind
I will not fear, nor will I be weak
This wandering road, I walk alone…”
…
The sun was setting, dusk’s glow fading. Her hair burned like fire; the girl was beautiful as poetry—and just as cruel.
She swung her bare feet, eyes closed, savoring the last of the song. She liked this song very much; she thought it was written for her, sung for her. If she wasn’t careful, she’d fall from the railing, her beautiful face shattered on the ground, leaving nothing behind—at most, a few trivial rumors among students, then forgotten by the world.
No one would care why she killed herself, where she came from, or remember her name or courtesy name. But this land would remember—the crimson blood, the crimson heart, the crimson self.
“Even if I bear wounds forever
At least I still possess freedom
Even if I bear wounds forever
At least I still possess freedom…”
She suddenly stopped humming and turned to see an unexpected person.
It was Shen Yao.
Qiao Yunxue’s face betrayed no emotion. She simply looked at Shen Yao calmly.
Shen Yao held up the Bread Wrapper in his hand. “So, the rich young lady with a net worth in the billions survived these last two days on these things? Didn’t you always look down on what poor people eat?”
Qiao Yunxue said nothing, just stared at him—as if the moment Shen Yao made a move, she would jump.
Shen Yao didn’t act rashly. Instead, he sat cross-legged on the spot. In truth, he understood Qiao Yunxue’s thoughts very well. At his lowest, he’d thought about ending it all, too.
“Wu Bai’s ‘White Dove’—one of my favorite songs.” Shen Yao pointed at the Recording Device, which was playing on loop. “This song tells me not to give up even in hardship, though I imagine you interpret it differently.”
“Shen Yao.” She finally spoke. “Don’t waste your breath.”