Chapter 4

After we came back from the hospital that time, the sharp tension between us seemed to quietly dissolve a little.

In the afternoon, sunlight cast warm patches on the carpet.

I curled up on the sofa, watching Xu Qing quietly reading beside me, his profile clear and focused.

A thought popped up out of nowhere.

I put down my phone and spoke, trying to sound casual: “Hey, Xu Qing.”

He looked up, his gaze shifting from the pages to me.

“Let’s… go take some couple’s photos.”

I tried to make my tone sound flippant, as if it was a spur-of-the-moment idea. “My first love used to love dragging me to take these, it was so clingy.”

“You should learn from that.”

Xu Qing’s fingers holding the page tightened almost imperceptibly, the paper making a faint crinkling sound.

He looked at me in silence. After a few seconds, he lowered his lashes and replied softly, “Okay.”

I jumped up immediately. “The weather’s nice, let’s go out for a walk. Let’s get something to eat first.”

I didn’t pick any fancy restaurants.

Instead, almost as if possessed, I had the driver take us to the famous snack street nearby.

Xu Qing and I walked among the throngs of people, shoulder to shoulder.

The lines of his shoulder blades under his shirt showed faintly.

Watching his back, I felt a moment of dazedness.

This scene slowly overlapped with some blurry frames deep in my memory.

Back then, I’d managed to get into a city high school by luck.

Not long after school started, on the freshman honor board, I saw that dazzling, breathtaking photo-Xu Qing.

He wore a clean blue-and-white school uniform, his eyes bright, carrying a touch of proud aloofness.

From then on, I developed a habit.

My gaze would always subconsciously search for him in the crowd.

The arc of his jump shot on the basketball court, the slight lift of his chin when talking with classmates in the corridor, the outstanding grades that always followed his name on the bulletin board…

He was like a beam of light, drawing me in like a humble moth.

But I never dared get close.

Did I like him?

Maybe not.

I was just used to looking up to him.

Staring at him.

More than anything, I felt he was a vessel for my emotions.

Later.

I found out his mother ran a small rice noodle stall just outside the back gate of the school.

So that greasy, noisy alley became my paradise, the place where I could see him up close.

I started scrimping and saving my meager living expenses, and every so often, I’d go to that stall for a bowl of the cheapest plain rice noodles.

I did that for over a year.

I always shrank into the corner seat, head down, eating slowly.

Most of the time, he’d come by after school to help out.

Collecting bowls, wiping tables, serving noodles… He wore a school uniform faded from too many washes, his expression out of place amid the bustle, cold and detached, yet he handled those chores with practiced ease.

Once, when his gaze swept over me, I wished I could bury my whole face in that thick porcelain bowl.

The steaming heat stung my eyes, but I didn’t dare look up.

A very soft laugh came, almost swallowed by the clatter of pots and pans.

All I could hear was my own deafening heartbeat, and his clean voice occasionally answering his mother’s questions.

I froze, blood rushing to my head in an instant.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him with his back to me, his shoulders seeming to tremble slightly, but he quickly returned to normal and kept busy.

I’ve completely forgotten what those noodles tasted like.

All I remember is the sunset that day, and that soft laugh that sent my thoughts spinning for days.

Later, when that familiar seat was empty, replaced by a fried skewer stall.

After that, Xu Qing stopped coming to school for a long time.

I heard from others that he’d dropped out.

My heart suddenly felt hollow, as if a piece was missing.

Then, maybe a few months later.

I happened to see a game livestream flashing on my roommate’s phone screen.

That dazzlingly skilled, cold-faced genius esports boy was the very face I’d secretly watched for countless days and nights.

He’d switched to a completely different, even more dazzling but distant path, still shining bright.

“What do you want to eat?”

Xu Qing, walking ahead, suddenly stopped and turned to ask me.

His voice pulled me out of my memories.

The snack street lights were fully lit, reflected in his eyes like scattered stars.

We stood in front of a steaming rice noodle stall, the familiar aroma wafting over.

I looked at him, pointed at the stall, and said softly, “This one.”