Hopeless Romance (GL) - Chapter 28

Chapter 28

The selection exam for the mathematics competition was set for the third Saturday in October. Leading up to it, both Ye Du and Shang Ruixi experienced the most exhausting period of their lives. As the competition neared, they had to invest more energy into specialized training while ensuring they kept pace with their regular coursework. Though they were only in their second year of middle school, they were acutely aware that by this time next year, they would be ninth graders. Despite being naturally gifted students, they understood that complex knowledge fades without consolidation; they were not effortless geniuses, and their “brilliance” was not something that appeared out of thin air.

The region of Yunchuan seemed to have a peculiar bias in its climate: summers and winters were interminably long, while spring and autumn were so fleeting they were hard to grasp. Often, before one could even enjoy two days of pleasant, dry autumn air, the temperature would drop silently. Although Yunchuan was currently suspended in this rare seasonal gap, Ye Du felt none of the associated comfort. Her already tense nerves tightened the moment she pulled back the curtains; a drizzling rain slid down the glass and dripped onto the ground, gentle yet relentless. She was in no mood to appreciate the “buttery” rain of the poets; her mind was occupied with remembering an umbrella, dressing warmly, and putting on rain boots—anything to ensure she faced the challenge in the most comfortable state possible.

As Ye Du approached the school gate, she saw Chen Pupu sitting on a flower bed.

“How are you here earlier than me?” It was the first time Ye Du had seen Chen Pupu being this diligent.

Chen Pupu rubbed her eyes and took a moment to steady her head. “I was just afraid you’d arrive too early.” Since she was there to cheer Ye Du on, she didn’t want to miss her. She had gone to bed early the night before, repeatedly telling her mother, Qin Wei, to wake her up—the kind of wake-up call that required her to actually stand up from the bed. Chen Pupu knew all too well that the alarm clock on her nightstand was mostly decorative.

Looking at Chen Pupu’s half-closed eyes and sleepy face, two words popped into Ye Du’s mind: cute and naturally. For Ye Du, Chen Pupu was just so naturally cute.

“I’m heading in. Find a place to rest for a bit and stay out of the rain,” Ye Du said, checking her watch and pulling her thoughts together.

“Okay. I’ll wait for Jiang Xinwan and the others to get here.” Chen Pupu suddenly realized she hadn’t eaten breakfast and wondered if Jiang Xinwan’s parents forced her to drink milk even on non-school days.

Ye Du nodded and walked into the campus. Though Yunchuan Middle School was in the city center, it was a sanctuary of quiet, especially on weekends. During the short walk, Ye Du took the rare chance to observe her surroundings. At the end of the path was the garage, usually packed with bicycles and e-bikes. Leftward was the high school building, requiring a long climb up stairs to a platform. Between the buildings lay a large sunken plaza surrounded by ginkgo trees. By late autumn, their fallen leaves would create a golden, shimmering carpet on the ground. Watching the other contestants—some in groups, some alone—Ye Du thought about the people waiting for her. She suddenly felt a surge of brightness, realizing that this was a very good path to be on.

The exam lasted three hours. By the time they emerged, the rain had stopped, though water still clung to the veins of leaves. Ye Du was surprised by the crowd at the gate. Chen Pupu and the other two were there, of course, as was Teacher Huang Yuqin. What shocked her was seeing Qin Zibei. Failing to make the cut had been a massive blow to him, especially since he had worked just as hard as she and Shang Ruixi. People often claimed boys were smarter than girls, but Qin Zibei was “foolish” enough to ignore that myth, putting in every ounce of effort he had. The failure had been hard to swallow; he had run across half the campus to find a lockable restroom in the administrative building just to have a private cry. Yet, as class monitor, he chose to stand at this gate to support his classmates, perhaps out of a mix of envy and a desire to face his own defeat head-on. He looked toward a girl standing nearby—Jiang Zhouchi. She held a bright bouquet, standing tall and elegant. In the lingering mist, her usual sharp edge was softened, forming a scene like an oil painting. Qin Zibei stared, completely forgetting to wonder if she noticed his gaze.

“How was it?” Predictably, Jiang Xinwan was the first to rush up to Ye Du and Shang Ruixi, with Wang Zhu right behind her.

Ye Du looked at Shang Ruixi, who raised her eyebrows, adjusted her backpack strap, and said firmly: “Very good.”

Before Jiang Xinwan could launch into a detailed interrogation, Ye Du slipped over to Chen Pupu’s side. She let out a soft sigh as her shoulders relaxed; the high-intensity testing had left her without the strength to speak. She admired Shang Ruixi’s patience in dealing with Jiang Xinwan and Wang Zhu. Chen Pupu took a stack of flyers she’d been handed, split them in two to serve as a cushion on the flower bed, and tugged at Ye Du’s sleeve. The two sat down in silence, watching the lively scene. Ye Du would have answered if Chen Pupu asked, but Chen Pupu said nothing. She simply leaned against her, and in that close, quiet atmosphere, a wave of exhaustion washed over Ye Du.

For Pei Lang, receiving flowers from Jiang Zhouchi made the moment feel incredibly romantic. The flowers were common enough, but the person was unique. He could feel the satisfaction—or perhaps vanity—of the whispered rumors and the inescapable stares of the crowd. This, he thought, was his life: everything had to be the best. The coolest hobbies, the best looks, and a one-of-a-kind girlfriend. He took the bouquet and, acting on a sudden impulse, pulled the fragrant girl into his arms, wondering how long she had waited for him in the rain. This time, the stares were direct. Since most people there weren’t from Yunchuan, everyone—both the couple and the onlookers—felt bolder.

Chen Pupu was quite impressed by Pei Lang’s boldness, especially with Huang Yuqin standing right there. Huang Yuqin was busy talking to Shang Ruixi, seemingly trying to extract the entire exam paper from her memory. Chen Pupu looked at Ye Du, who was leaning on her shoulder. Despite being half a head taller, Ye Du had managed to fall asleep in that likely uncomfortable position, probably to avoid the “clutches” of Teacher Huang. Following the gasps of the crowd, Huang Yuqin finally noticed the “public debut” of the school’s star couple. He wasn’t sure how to react. If he didn’t punish them, it would set a bad precedent in front of other schools; but punishing Pei Lang was complicated due to his family background, and he couldn’t just punish Jiang Zhouchi alone. He pushed the thought aside when Shang Ruixi said goodbye.

“Teacher Huang, I’m heading out.” After answering a barrage of questions, Shang Ruixi felt like she had retaken the exam. She believed that for things already finished, all one could do was wait. Jiang Xinwan and Wang Zhu chimed in, having listened to the technical talk as if they were preparing for the next competition themselves.

“Alright, get home safely.” Huang Yuqin felt he had a good grasp of the competition results and felt relieved. As for the departing young couple—he wasn’t their headteacher or the dean; there was no need to trouble himself. He wondered how much of a headache Zhang Jianwei would have instead.

Jiang Xinwan rushed over and patted Ye Du awake. Ye Du looked dazed and confused, reacting slowly by grabbing Jiang Xinwan’s clothes to keep her from moving away. The two started playful bickering. Chen Pupu took the chance to rub her sore shoulder, happy to let Wang Zhu be the spectator. As Shang Ruixi turned the corner at the intersection, the sky began to clear.

“I want to go home now. I’m exhausted,” Ye Du said. She was moved that they had waited for her, but she hadn’t slept well in a long time. Furthermore, today was her birthday. Although things were quiet at home, her mother was the only person who would celebrate it. Ye Sangshu was waiting with a table of food and a cake; while Ye Du didn’t always feel “love” for her mother, she didn’t want to cause her any hurt.

The other three exchanged looks. Their long-planned surprise seemed to be over before it started. Jiang Xinwan spoke up first: “Ye Du, ever since you started preparing for the competition, we haven’t hung out. You’re finally done; let’s at least grab lunch together. It’s the right time.” When Ye Du didn’t answer, Jiang Xinwan nudged Chen Pupu with her elbow.

“How about we just walk you home? We don’t have anything else to do anyway,” Chen Pupu suggested. Jiang Xinwan and Wang Zhu looked at her in disbelief—they wanted her to persuade Ye Du to stay out, not cave in. The plan was falling apart.

Walking home with companions felt strange to Ye Du, especially given their behavior today. Jiang Xinwan and Wang Zhu walked behind her and Chen Pupu, whispering constantly, with Jiang Xinwan looking particularly frustrated. Though the bus ride was short, Ye Du and Chen Pupu didn’t talk much, except for Chen Pupu humming a song that Ye Du didn’t recognize.

Ye Du thought they would leave her at the bus stop, but they insisted on walking her all the way to the apartment complex gate. On the way, Wang Zhu pointed at a tree with blue-purple flowers and asked what it was; Ye Du didn’t know. Jiang Xinwan asked if there was a music store nearby; Ye Du didn’t know that either. They jokingly teased her for knowing nothing about her own neighborhood, and Ye Du couldn’t find a way to argue back.

Near the complex, Chen Pupu suddenly stopped, pulling Ye Du to a halt. Before Ye Du could turn around, a pair of hands covered her eyes. The sudden loss of vision made her instinctively grab the hands, but she recognized the familiar touch before fear could set in.

“Don’t turn around yet,” Chen Pupu’s voice said. Then came the sound of a zipper, followed by the rustle of packaging.

When Chen Pupu said “Okay,” they both let go. As Ye Du turned around, it felt like the wind was whistling through her mind.

Jiang Xinwan, with her unzipped backpack slung over one shoulder, handed Ye Du a beautifully wrapped, flat cube. “This is my favorite manga lately, it’s called Natsume’s Book of Friends.” Wang Zhu gave her a set of metal bookmarks—souvenirs from a seaside trip with her parents. They were intricate, shaped like cable cars in gold and blue.

Chen Pupu had chosen a picture book called The Moon Forgets by the Taiwanese artist Jimmy Liao. To be honest, Chen Pupu didn’t quite understand the text, but she loved the colors and hoped Ye Du would too. She also gave her a fountain pen, firmly believing that someone with beautiful handwriting should use a pen that makes it look even better.

With her hands full of gifts, the three girls said in a messy chorus: “Happy Birthday!” Ye Du looked down at the gifts and didn’t respond to the blessing. She slowly turned back around, secretly fighting back tears. Ye Du often felt like a “blank” person. Her mother had no friends or hobbies, living only for work and her daughter. This meant Ye Du had no concept of many social norms—visiting relatives, traveling, playing games, or celebrating birthdays. Years later, looking back, she would feel a bit of regret that such a significant moment happened so clumsily at the gate of a shabby old apartment complex.

Though Ye Du had turned away to hide it, her friends provided the necessary hugs and comfort—interspersed with Jiang Xinwan’s ill-timed teasing. It didn’t matter; it was all in good fun.

They eventually saw Ye Du to her door before parting. Under the sleepy gaze of the security guard, Ye Du hesitated for a long time before calling out to the departing Chen Pupu: “What was that song you were humming earlier?”

Standing under the tree with the blue-purple flowers, Chen Pupu shouted back: “It’s Jay Chou’s Lovely Woman!”

Ye Du thought to herself: Do lovely girls even listen to such lovely songs?