Chapter 7: Who Bullied You?

Yun Zhixue’s campus life was terrible.

She had no friends at school, and every day her desk drawer would be stuffed full of trash.

She had taken a few days off and hadn’t had time to clean it. Now it was giving off a foul smell, and several classmates nearby showed looks of disgust.

For the entire class period, Yun Zhixue barely absorbed anything. All she could think about was Meng Zhenyue’s cold profile. Her heart was seized by a panic she couldn’t suppress.

Fortunately, Yun Zhixue’s grades were good. Not listening didn’t affect her much. During class she took out her phone to check it, then remembered she and Meng Zhenyue hadn’t even added each other as contacts.

At noon in the cafeteria, she carried her tray when someone bumped into her, not lightly, not heavily. She let out a muffled groan of pain. The other person glanced at her sideways and instead blamed her. “Why aren’t you more careful?”

Yun Zhixue was being deliberately targeted.

There was a boy at school named Du Mingxiao who had liked her for many years. On her birthday not long ago, he set off a grand fireworks display for her. The entire school assumed Yun Zhixue would be moved and agree to be with him.

But that day, she never showed up.

Du Mingxiao was handsome, had a pleasant voice, and had a following online. From time to time, he would insinuate that Yun Zhixue was stringing him along, deliberately giving him hope.

He guided the entire school into being cold toward her, targeting her both openly and in secret.

That night back in the dormitory, Yun Zhixue unpacked her bag. Aside from her school uniform and pajamas, there were several antibacterial waterproof patches, deliberately wrapped inside her clothes.

A strange, swelling feeling rose in her chest.

After holding it in for a long time, she could only think of two words.

So annoying.

There was a faint fragrance on the clothes. Even though Meng Zhenyue wasn’t there, it felt as though she had invaded again, marking her room once more with her scent.

Annoying. So damn annoying.

The next morning, Yun Zhixue wore the blue school uniform tinged with that faint fragrance to class.

Her desk had been dirtied again. The sharp stench overpowered the subtle scent on her body. She silently cleaned the surface, then took out the recorder she had hidden in a compartment. It had been snapped in half.

She buried her face deep in her sleeve. With every breath came the scent of flowers. She couldn’t tell what kind. She felt unbearably wronged.

As soon as the morning bell rang, Yun Zhixue dragged the trash can to the back row. Under the stunned gaze of the entire class, she overturned the whole bin onto the long-haired boy’s head.

Fruit peels and scraps of paper slid down his hair. The classroom echoed with his shrill curses and the sound of her footsteps returning to her seat.

Soon, both of them were summoned to the office. The homeroom teacher slammed the desk in anger. “If you don’t want to be suspended before the college entrance exam, behave yourselves!” He glared at Yun Zhixue. “This time I will definitely notify your mother.”

Yun Zhixue merely lifted her eyes faintly, her gaze calm like stagnant water. She knew that email would sink, as always, into the abyss of her mother’s never-replied inbox.

Yun Jing would not come.

When she was little and was bullied, she told Yun Jing. Yun Jing replied: If he bullies you, can’t you fight back? Do whatever you want to do.

What she had wanted most to say then was that she hoped Yun Jing would care about her. But Yun Jing rejected the second option and made her choose the first.

She fought back. She knocked one of their teeth out.

Yun Jing had her secretary pay compensation and told her that something so simple didn’t need to be made complicated.

After leaving the office, the boy was still unwilling to let it go. He pointed at her nose. “Just you wait. This won’t end here.”

During evening self-study, the class representative came to remind her to hand in her self-criticism. Yun Zhixue didn’t respond. Hugging several textbooks, she walked alone toward the dormitory.

The tree-lined path in front of the teaching building was empty. Amid the shifting shadows of leaves, a hand suddenly shot out and clamped tightly over her mouth.

She was dragged violently behind a flower bed. The wound at her waist split open under the pulling, and she let out a pained muffled sound. Enduring it, she seized a moment of loosened grip and kicked backward fiercely. Her books smashed hard into the shadow’s face.

“f*ck!”

With that cry of pain, four or five boys rushed out from the darkness and pinned her onto the cold concrete ground. Du Mingxiao played with a gleaming pair of scissors as he walked toward her, grabbing her long braid.

“Yun Zhixue, I’ve tolerated you for a long time.”

One of Du Mingxiao’s friends pressed down on her neck, forcing her to bow her head, laughing loudly. “Wasn’t it this long hair he liked before?”

Du Mingxiao’s scissors cut straight down from the middle.

Each snip was followed by a suppressed sob. Du Mingxiao admired her tear-blurred appearance and suddenly realized, even without the long hair, she was still beautiful.

Back in seventh grade, it had been popular a say that long hair should reach the waist.

Yun Zhixue had waist-length hair. Du Mingxiao had been utterly captivated and confessed to her directly. She never responded.

Yet she was so vile, so disgusting. Ignoring him on one side, while keeping the long hair he liked.

The carefully braided plait hung below her waist like a curtain of dark ink, striking his mind again and again.

If he couldn’t have it, he would destroy it.

Her hair was too long; one cut wasn’t enough.

He snipped several more times. Yun Zhixue whimpered in her throat, her legs kneeling on the ground, her body trembling.

Her eyes were wet. The light in them shattered into fragments. She herself looked as though she were about to break apart.

Du Mingxiao felt exhilarated. When he noticed a boy taking out his phone to record, he barked at him to stop.

If it got out, it would become a stain on his record when he entered the entertainment industry.

After cutting her hair, the group didn’t dare bully Yun Zhixue any further. After all, her mother was Yun Jing.

Yun Zhixue’s face was deathly pale. She couldn’t tell where the pain was coming from. She wanted to stand and lunge at them, but her whole body was powerless.

They swaggered off after cutting her hair.

Yun Zhixue curled on the ground, clutching her stomach, trying again and again to get up, only to fall.

A thought flashed through her mind: Should she ask someone for help?

It was only brief, like a luxury. She wanted someone to come save her.

But it was impossible. No one could be lucky twice in a row.

She had even angered Meng Zhenyue. How could that be possible?

‘…Ah, this was terrible.’

****

Yun Zhixue asked her homeroom teacher for leave and stayed curled up in the dormitory. She had become mud, trampled by others.

For some reason, during this time she missed Meng Zhenyue very much. Especially missed her presence. She missed the embrace on that rainy day, missed her warmth, missed her palms.

Like a life flashing before death, her memories held only that tiny, barren warmth. She clutched it desperately, tightly, savoring it bitterly.

Yun Zhixue made a decision.

She would rush into Du Mingxiao’s classroom and stab him to death. It might make Yun Jing angry, but it didn’t matter. She didn’t plan to live anyway.

She called Yun Jing. The call went through. No one answered. She stubbornly dialed again, and this time it was hung up.

She wanted to tell her: Mom, my hair was cut.

She held her phone and waited a little longer.

In elementary school, the first time she accompanied Yun Jing to a gathering, someone praised her for being pretty. Yun Jing smiled and said: She looks good with long hair.

‘Mom, I won’t love you anymore.’

Her stomach itched and hurt so much. She wanted to dig her fingers in and claw at it. She forced herself to endure… Someone had bruised their arm saving her; she had to leave something behind, not waste someone else’s effort…

Yun Zhixue struggled to her feet and stuffed a pair of latex gloves into her backpack. Du Mingxiao’s blood would stink. It would dirty her hands.

She counted all her belongings, the future would call them relics. She took out a pen and wrote a note, sticking it onto the ointment, and packed up some valuables to give to her.

[I’m sorry. I hope you get better soon.]

Yun Zhixue had long realized she didn’t know how to make friends. She was harsh toward others, cold. If someone hurt her, she would remember it. Likewise, others would not forgive her either, and might even retaliate like Du Mingxiao.

It was very late. The heat accumulated during the day rose in waves. She slung her bag over her shoulders and went out with her hair disheveled. She had originally intended to comb it, but it had been cut so unevenly it was impossible to tidy.

Bent over, Yun Zhixue stepped out of the elevator. Her ears rang. The cicadas’ cries seemed to create hallucinations. She heard her name.

“Yun Zhixue.”

She lifted her head stiffly, like a malfunctioning robot. Lose one more part and she would rot, collapse, be destroyed.

That familiar figure stood beneath the tree, very quiet, a slow brightening in the dark, like a spark of phosphorescence igniting.

Meng Zhenyue.

Her face was cold. She was still angry.

In a steady voice, she said, “I came to see you.”

After a few seconds, she glanced back and asked, “What happened to your hair?”

Yun Zhixue, who had already decided to die, wanted to ignore her. Her first instinct was to leave. But her body was nailed in place, trembling uncontrollably.

The moment she saw Meng Zhenyue…

It wasn’t happiness. It wasn’t the urge to cry.

It was an itch inside her body, like new flesh growing, like insects gnawing.

Meng Zhenyue’s voice was full of command. “Lift your head!”

The instant her tears burst through, Meng Zhenyue walked toward her step by step. She was pulled into a warm embrace. That faint scent of gardenia mixed with tobacco caught her completely as her body on the verge of breaking was gathered in.

Meng Zhenyue’s voice softened terribly. Her hand gently stroked the back of her neck.

“Baby, who bullied you?”