Hopeless Romance (GL) - Chapter 16

Chapter 16

When Chen Pupu returned to the group, she found only Ye Du remaining at the spot. “Huh? Where is everyone else?”

“Jiang Xinwan and the others went ahead to grab beds in the dormitory. Let’s go too.” Fearing that Chen Pupu wouldn’t be able to find her way back, Ye Du had stayed behind to wait.

“Okay. Do you want a candy?” Chen Pupu tore open the packaging Yu Xiao had given her and held a piece up to Ye Du.

Ye Du’s body instinctively leaned back slightly, but she caught herself before the movement became too obvious. Before Ye Du could even finish saying “Okay,” Chen Pupu had already popped the candy into her mouth just as she was opening it to speak. Ye Du’s right hand, which had started to lift, dropped back down as she closed her mouth to chew.

“Is it good?” Chen Pupu hadn’t actually tried it herself yet, but since it was peach-flavored, it couldn’t be bad—peach was her favorite fruit. She was allergic to the fuzz on real peaches, which only made her love peach-flavored foods even more.

This time, Ye Du chose not to speak. She simply nodded and picked up her pace. After a couple of steps, she said, “Let’s hurry, it’ll be dark soon.” Chen Pupu popped a candy into her own mouth and, savoring the taste, hurried to catch up.

“I just made a new friend from the class next door. She said she’d come find me later,” Chen Pupu said, deciding to introduce Yu Xiao to Ye Du beforehand so things wouldn’t be awkward if she actually showed up.

“Is that where Jiang Zhouchi took you earlier?” Ye Du recalled the two of them disappearing while everyone was packing.

“Yeah, her name is Yu Xiao. She seems pretty close with Jiang Zhouchi.” Though, in truth, they didn’t really look like “friends.”

Ye Du felt a faint, inexplicable sense of unease—a feeling that was only magnified the moment she actually met Yu Xiao. Yu Xiao had once again used Jiang Zhouchi to find Chen Pupu’s dormitory. She planned to ask for Chen Pupu’s phone number once they were back at school the next day; otherwise, having Jiang Zhouchi act as a messenger was far too inconvenient. When she arrived, Chen Pupu, Jiang Xinwan, and Wang Zhu were chatting about which performances in the upcoming talent show they were looking forward to. The other two asked Chen Pupu why she wasn’t performing the flute; Chen Pupu was just glad she hadn’t signed up—carrying a flute around all day would have been exhausting, and she was terrified of her own clumsiness and the risk of losing it. This was the first time Yu Xiao learned that Chen Pupu had a musical talent; beyond her looks, she felt she was getting to know her better.

“Hey, who are you looking for? I noticed you’ve been standing there a while,” Wang Zhu was the first to notice Yu Xiao at the door.

Seeing Chen Pupu turn toward her at the sound of the voice, Yu Xiao looked at her with a smile and said, “I’m looking for Chen Pupu.”

As a long-term sprint trainee, Yu Xiao possessed a well-proportioned physique, an upright posture, and a slightly aggressive confidence. Combined with her delicate features, her silhouette in the doorway—smiling against the backdrop of the twilight sky—made Chen Pupu feel a momentary sense of daze. Hearing Yu Xiao’s reply, Ye Du, who had been busy arranging toiletries and beds, turned around. The base provided large communal bunk beds with less-than-ideal hygiene. Since the weather was warmer, Ye Du was planning to spread their four coats out as a mattress pad and use items from their backpacks as pillows to make their sleep a bit more comfortable. For some reason, Ye Du felt an inexplicable dislike for this girl who had suddenly intruded into their lives. Though she knew nothing about her and had never interacted with her, the rejection bubbled up naturally at first sight. Meanwhile, Wang Zhu pulled Jiang Xinwan aside to whisper, their gossip wavering on Yu Xiao’s gender; they were confused by how a girl could be so handsome, with a refreshing aura that seemed much cleaner and more comfortable than the sweaty boys in their class.

“Oh! Let me introduce you.” Coming back to her senses, Chen Pupu stepped forward to face Yu Xiao and gestured toward her three friends behind her. “This is Jiang Xinwan, this is Wang Zhu, and that’s Ye Du—she’s the top student in our class, really amazing.” Jiang Xinwan’s polite smile faltered at Chen Pupu’s introduction of Ye Du. Why did I only get a name and no special title? I’m practically the Chief Ambassador for Japanese Anime at Yunchuan Middle School!

Yu Xiao followed the introduction to look at Ye Du, who nodded in response. Yu Xiao’s expression was hard to read; though she was smiling, there was a faint trace of displeasure and a calculating look in her eyes. “Hello everyone, I’m Yu Xiao from Class 9.” Seeing that Chen Pupu hadn’t continued, Yu Xiao had to introduce herself.

“Right, right! I totally forgot. Yu Xiao is my new friend—actually, our new friend now.”

“Can I watch the performances with you all later?” Although Yu Xiao used the word “you all,” her attention was fixed solely on Chen Pupu.

Chen Pupu smiled at Yu Xiao, then turned her back to her to mouth a question to the other three, asking for their opinion. She hadn’t expected Yu Xiao to actually come looking for her; after all, they weren’t in the same class and she’d had no impression of her before today. She was worried this situation might upset Jiang Xinwan and Wang Zhu.

To her surprise, Jiang Xinwan and Wang Zhu agreed without hesitation. In their eyes, while Yu Xiao wasn’t quite on Pei Lang’s level of “handsome,” she was undeniably attractive in a different way. Why refuse to hang out with someone good-looking? Ye Du, of course, didn’t object either. She didn’t think these changes would affect her; no matter how many people joined, she knew exactly who her trusted friends were.

Although Chen Pupu had introduced Yu Xiao as a friend to everyone, Yu Xiao stayed strictly by Chen Pupu’s side. She was clearly more comfortable with her, even if that familiarity was still short of her expectations. The other three, sensing this and wanting to avoid awkwardness, walked ahead of them. This made Chen Pupu a bit uncomfortable, especially when they passed the Class 9 area; many girls were staring in their direction. She couldn’t tell if they were looking at Yu Xiao or her, but their smiles felt strange and unsettling.

“I heard you guys talking earlier—you play the flute?” Yu Xiao broke the silence.

“Yeah, I’ve been learning since elementary school.” Chen Pupu was used to people’s curiosity about the flute and had a mental “template” for answering.

“Do you have to take grade exams for that?” Yu Xiao wasn’t actually interested, but she felt they couldn’t just walk to the venue in silence.

“Yes, I’m at Grade 8 now. Grade 10 is the highest.”

“Wow, you’re impressive. You’re basically a music specialist. I have a specialty too—I’m an athlete, a sprinter.”

“I hate running the most… the 800-meter run in PE class literally kills me every time.” Chen Pupu admired anyone who could stick with running, especially someone like Yu Xiao who made it their specialty.

“There are techniques to running. I can teach you sometime.” In truth, Yu Xiao didn’t really know what the “techniques” were. She had just been fast since she was a kid and was scouted for the school team. Her training was mostly physical conditioning and endless running—both sprints and long-distance for endurance. Regardless, she made the promise; she figured she could just ask her coach for tips when she got back.

“Really? It’s a deal then!” Chen Pupu, imagining her usual miserable state of being dragged to the shade by Ye Du after the 800m, desperately wanted the secret to effortless running. She even fantasized about finishing the race easily and helping Ye Du drag Jiang Xinwan to the sidelines.

“Of course. Pinky swear?” Yu Xiao held out her hand.

“Okay, pinky swear.” Though it was childish, Chen Pupu enjoyed it.

On stage, someone was performing Guang Liang’s “Fairy Tale.” Led by Jiang Xinwan and Wang Zhu, Ye Du began to hum along. She couldn’t remember when she’d first heard the song, but it was likely on the TV show Same Song. Ye Sangshu loved that show and never missed an episode; since Ye Du’s room was next to the living room, the show became the background music for her Friday night homework. Over time, the frequently played melodies had stuck in her head.

Yu Xiao was a skilled conversationalist and always had something to talk about. She told Chen Pupu stories from her training; though mostly tedious, there were occasional funny moments. She spoke of traveling for competitions since she was young, and how injuries and poor performances were common. Because she was young back then, she didn’t take losing too hard. Yu Xiao felt she became a sprinter simply because she had a bit of talent and purely enjoyed the process of running—though she admitted she often wanted to quit whenever she fell or pulled a muscle because it hurt so much. Chen Pupu listened intently; this was a life completely foreign to her, one not entirely consumed by academics. She felt a pang of sympathy for Yu Xiao—having to run on top of studying seemed like double the boredom.

By the end of the evening gala, Chen Pupu couldn’t remember many of the acts, but her head was full of Yu Xiao’s nicknames. Yu Xiao explained that the teammates gave each other nicknames; hers was “Yuu~” (the sound used to stop a horse). The nickname only worked if said with the right intonation. Because of Yu Xiao’s unique way of stopping after a sprint—jumping in place to use her momentum to kill her speed—she looked exactly like a horse rearing up its front legs when it hears its master shout “Yuu~!” Since her surname was also Yu, the name stuck. Chen Pupu laughed until she couldn’t breathe imagining the scene, especially with Yu Xiao’s animated storytelling.

“Chen Pupu, try to be a lady,” Jiang Xinwan said, unable to watch any longer. Ye Du looked over; Chen Pupu was covering her mouth, her shoulders shaking with laughter so hard it almost looked like she was crying. She then noticed Yu Xiao looking at her, this time with a genuine smile.

When it was time to head back to the dorms, Chen Pupu called out to Ye Du. “Ye Du, Yu Xiao said we can go look at the stars.” Chen Pupu didn’t frame it as a question because she assumed Ye Du would go, just like she always did—Chen Pupu could drag Ye Du anywhere as long as it didn’t interfere with her homework. And right now, there was no homework to get in the way.

“Pupu, I’m used to a regular sleep schedule. I’m a bit tired, you guys go ahead.” In truth, Ye Du wasn’t sleepy; she just had a bit of a headache.

Chen Pupu knew how disciplined Ye Du was and didn’t push it. “Then I’ll walk you back to the dorm, and then I’ll find them.” She looped her arm through Ye Du’s.

“It’s okay. It’s dark out, and it’ll be hard for you to find your way back to them. I’ll just walk back with Liu Zhou.” Ye Du looked around and saw Liu Zhou walking slowly nearby.

Seeing Chen Pupu still hesitating, Ye Du added, “Go on, they’ve been waiting for you. I’m leaving now.”

When Ye Du caught up to Liu Zhou, he was clearly surprised, though he quickly masked it. He spent all his time either in class or drawing and didn’t have many close friends; his bond with Ye Du had been forged through him constantly copying her homework. Liu Zhou felt this connection was quite solid; he wouldn’t be outscoring Ye Du anytime soon, so he’d be relying on her for the next two years.

“Where’s Chen Pupu?” Everyone in class knew that Ye Du and Chen Pupu were inseparable unless they were in their own homes. Seeing Ye Du alone made him wonder if Chen Pupu had gone home sick.

“Watching the stars with Jiang Xinwan and the others,” Ye Du said, sounding a bit irritable.

“Why didn’t you go?”

“Headache. I want to sleep.” Liu Zhou thought he detected a hint of loneliness in her voice.

“Do you want to see them?” Ye Du nodded. She did want to see them. Although night happened every day, she had never thought to specifically dedicate time to the starry sky, to make this particular night special. But she knew she wouldn’t go. She couldn’t explain why, but she was certain of it. At that moment, she began to hate her own stubbornness.

As Ye Du was struggling with her inner conflict, Liu Zhou suddenly pointed to the sky. “Look! A Gorilla (Xing Xing)!” Ye Du looked up but couldn’t see anything in the sky. She then realized Liu Zhou was thumping his chest with his fists, puffing out his cheeks, and making vibrating grunting noises through his nose.

“Does this gorilla count as a star (Xing Xing)?” Ye Du was utterly confused. She wanted to laugh but felt she should show some respect for Liu Zhou’s hardworking performance. (Translator’s note: In Mandarin, ‘Star’ and ‘Gorilla’ are homophones: Xīngxing.)

“Why wouldn’t it count? This is called ‘creativity.’ Never seen it before, have you?” Liu Zhou replied with absolute confidence. When someone tries this hard to make you laugh, the truest form of respect is to actually laugh. And just like that, Ye Du felt the only moment of genuine relief she had experienced all night.