Chapter 7

“This is something from years ago. Do you know how long I spent trying to find it to send to you?” My mom sounded a little impatient on the other end of the phone. “Didn’t you promise last time to meet that civil servant more often? Why did he say you were ignoring him?”

I held the phone in one hand while tearing open the package my mom had just sent, replying absentmindedly, “I’ll go see him soon.”

I hung up and placed the phone face down on the table. I knew she must already be angry, but I had more pressing matters to attend to.

Inside the package was a small tin cookie box, its surface scorched black by fire and oxidized over the years. I held my breath and opened the box, and the dust-laden memories spilled out like Pandora’s box.

There wasn’t much inside: just a diary, a single band-aid, and a hairpin.

I flipped open the diary. Honestly, I didn’t like writing diaries back in my school days, so there were very few entries. I quickly found what I was looking for.

“March 31, 2017. Heavy rain at the bay. Ran away with Chen Yabai.”

In truth, after more than ten years, many scenes I thought I’d remember for a lifetime faded away in just a few years. But when I closed my eyes, I could still recall it all so clearly.

I was a child nobody wanted. I realized vaguely from an early age that I disliked all dazzling people, including the annoying Chen Yabai, because they seemed so worthy of love. That day was Friday, and I went home much earlier than the usual dismissal time.

Because my parents had finally settled on divorce, the weight on my heart was lifted, but neither of them wanted me. I leaned against the sofa, listening to my parents shirk responsibility back and forth. My dad said it would be more convenient for a girl to stay with her mother, while my mom said no, her financial situation was poor.

The door was open, and the neighbors were all listening in, eager for gossip.

I thought at the time, why isn’t it raining yet? If only a flood could drown me.

I closed my eyes and counted to thirty, hoping that when I opened them, things would look different. This was a trick Chen Yabai had taught me. Before I reached thirty, a clear voice suddenly rang out. Unexpectedly, Chen Yabai was standing at the door. He kicked the door hard, making a loud bang, and the arguing voices were instantly silenced in shock. He looked grim and said, “What the hell are you arguing about?”

My parents turned around in astonishment, staring at this tall boy, momentarily speechless.

Chen Yabai spoke slowly and clearly: “If you don’t want her, I do.”

He stepped forward, grabbed my wrist, and pulled me outside, escaping the quarreling home and the nosy neighbors. I hurried after his quick steps, only then noticing he was carrying a white backpack in his other hand, the zipper undone and stuffed full of homework. It dawned on me that I’d forgotten my backpack, and he was the helpful classmate who’d come to deliver my assignments.

He hadn’t expected to walk into a melodramatic family scene.

Chen Yabai was furious, lips pressed tight, the veins at his temple throbbing, but he also seemed sad.

Downstairs was a sleek motorcycle. I glanced at it a couple of times, and Chen Yabai stopped in front of it. Without asking my opinion, he shoved a pink helmet onto my head, pressing it down firmly. My head felt heavy, and he laughed quietly at how silly I looked.

“Miss Little Yuan. I’m pretty lucky.”

“From now on, close your eyes for thirty seconds, and you’ll smell the sea.”

Liar. Thirty seconds? It felt like forever.

I’d never ridden a motorcycle before. Sitting behind Chen Yabai, I had to hold tightly onto his slim waist for safety. The motorcycle sped through the busy city streets, heading toward the distant bay. It was already a deep blue evening, and with fewer cars in the bay area, he drove even faster. Only the sea breeze could keep up with us.

Halfway there, heavy rain poured down, soaking our clothes and dripping inside our helmets. Our wet clothes clung together, but his body was burning hot.

That was the first time I didn’t dislike Chen Yabai so much.

He laughed heartily, “Taking you on a getaway.”

If it hadn’t been for that rainstorm, I wouldn’t have considered him a friend, wouldn’t have let him get close.