The Fleeting Youth of Those Years

“Wasn’t that the dish you ordered?” Wang Bo retorted with a laugh. His short, droopy eyebrows, combined with the white froth at the corners of his mouth, made him look utterly ridiculous.

“Aren’t you afraid of Xu Nuo?” I blurted out, suddenly recalling what Xu Nuo had said to Mo Shunlu before last year’s winter vacation. Although I knew Xu Nuo was Wen Youhan’s cousin-and not really an enemy allied with the rest of us trying to woo her-he had once asked Mo Shunlu to keep an eye on things to stop anyone from bothering Wen Youhan. Naturally, Mo Shunlu wouldn’t just turn a blind eye.

“Xu Nuo? Pfft. Wen Youhan is just his cousin,” Wang Bo said dismissively.

The fact that Wang Bo even knew about Wen Youhan and Xu Nuo’s relationship could only mean one thing: Wen Youhan had told him. My heart started to ache. I had always thought I was special to Wen Youhan, someone she would confide in about things no one else knew. But the truth was far from that. All along, I had been deluding myself.

Back then, we were still young, coming to terms with the fact that the person we had always liked-and believed liked us in return-actually loved someone else. Our youthful hearts hurt deeply. But not knowing how to properly express that pain, we chose to suppress it, silently fuming and avoiding the other person.

The basketball game went on as scheduled. Xiao Niao and I stood on the sidelines, watching our class get completely obliterated. There was nothing to say. Even though Xu Nuo wasn’t playing for Class Three, their team was far superior to ours. Fan Guang stood nearby, his brows tightly furrowed. Of course, he couldn’t play in this game-he wasn’t part of our class anymore, meaning he wasn’t eligible to participate. Unsurprisingly, we lost this match miserably. Losing the very first game in such a crushing way left everyone in a bad mood.

Niu Limin handed out bottles of water to everyone as Yuan Mei and Lin Dashun debated on the side whether one of our blocked shots had actually been a foul. Meanwhile, Bao Le squatted on the ground, sipping a bottle of green tea that Liu Yan had just handed him. There wasn’t the slightest trace of disappointment or sadness on his face, despite the loss. “Bao Le must be thrilled,” I thought to myself. Losing the game didn’t matter to him-he was drinking tea given to him by the girl he liked. How happy must he be to experience such a small, delightful moment. My eyes kept darting around, searching for Wen Youhan.

She wasn’t here to watch the game. It had been a long time since Wen Youhan had come to watch basketball. She stopped coming the moment Xu Nuo left this school.

“What the heck are you doing?” Xiao Niao yelped, pushing me away. He clutched his left hand with his right, rubbing it furiously. “I’m not a girl, so why are you grabbing me so hard?” Seeing that I didn’t laugh, he swore under his breath.

“Nothing,” I muttered as I turned and pushed my way out of the crowd. I walked off the playground, heading in the direction of the hot water room. Xiao Niao followed behind me. “Qin Kai, what’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing, I just want to get some water,” I replied, stopping for a moment. But Xiao Niao had already caught up with me. As we walked beneath the girls’ dormitory, a flash of red appeared above us. A crimson shirt floated gracefully down from the upper floors, and we both froze in place. Looking up, we saw a head peeking out from the third-floor window. It was none other than Wen Youhan. She smiled at us and called out, “Watch my shirt for me, will you?”

Not even two minutes later, Wen Youhan came rushing out of the dormitory building. It was the first time I’d seen her speak so loudly and run so quickly.

She grabbed the shirt and darted toward a nearby water faucet. We didn’t exchange a single word. My thoughts drifted back to Wang Bo’s confession about pursuing Wen Youhan, and my heart ached again. Swallowing my emotions, I made my way toward the hot water room. Xiao Niao waited outside for me, and as I stepped out, he walked up to me with a serious look on his face.

“Do you have a crush on Wen Youhan?” he asked bluntly.

“Who told you that? Of course not. She’s so childish!” I forced a laugh, feeling the muscles in my face tense involuntarily.

“Have you heard that ‘Machine Gun’ is after Wen Youhan?” Xiao Niao asked in a conspiratorial tone, leaning in slightly.

‘Machine Gun’ was Zhu Xin. I had given him that nickname because he answered questions in class with lightning speed. Zhu Xin had been infatuated with Wen Youhan for a long time-his persistence at times as annoying as a housefly, making me want to grab a can of bug spray and squirt it in his face. Yet, I always hesitated, afraid of potentially upsetting Wen Youhan in the process.

Honestly, Zhu Xin didn’t have much to offer as a worthy rival for the rest of us who admired Wen Youhan. She didn’t seem to like this tall, lanky, academic overachiever. In fact, she never initiated conversations with him and almost appeared to avoid him deliberately. Every time he saw me chatting happily with her, he would look at me with envy and ask how I managed to pull it off. I’d just smile without saying a word. Deep down, I wanted to shout at him, “Peach and plum trees remain silent, yet a path naturally forms beneath them.”