Chapter 13: Her Stars

Liking.

What kind of emotion was it?

Back then, when Qin Jin stepped onto the stairs, she didn’t dare to look back.

Her body stiffened as she walked down the hallway, her limbs as rigid as the zombies in some old Hong Kong horror film.

Her heart was still pounding wildly in her chest.

No matter how many deep breaths she took, she couldn’t calm it down.

Was this what it meant to like someone?

Unable to meet his eyes.

So nervous her whole body went weak.

Even the simplest “thank you” came out broken, stammered, incomplete.

And yet…

So happy.

So, so happy!

Every cell in her body was trembling, quivering with electricity, sending waves of joy too fierce to put into words.

The rush of emotions was so strong, she almost burst into tears from sheer excitement.

Qin Jin hugged her schoolbag tight.

She took a deep breath, forcing down the trembling.

She stood at the dormitory door for a long time before she finally managed to stop her eyes from misting over.

“You’re back?”

The key turned in the lock.

Pushing the door open, Qin Jin heard Xiao Fangfang, sitting nearby on a chair, turn and greet her.

“Mm, I’m back.”

After answering, she sat at her own desk.

She pulled out the geography test paper she’d just received from her bag.

The densely packed questions spread before her eyes.

But her mind, beyond her control, kept replaying that moment just now.

Like the world after fresh snow, the air so pure and clear—nothing could ever be more beautiful.

Her pen halted mid-stroke.

Qin Jin jolted back to her senses and forced herself to focus.

But when she glanced down at the multiple-choice question box, she saw she had filled in a completely out-of-place answer.

Yu Zhu.

Yu Zhu.

Staring at those two words, the corners of her lips lifted into the faintest arc.

Then she quickly pressed them together, lowering her head.

Carefully, she covered the name with tape, erasing it, and filled in the correct answer instead.

She was just an ordinary girl.

Now she needed to finish tomorrow’s homework properly.

She needed to study hard.

She shouldn’t…

She couldn’t dare to dream of such a dazzling star.

The days afterward passed quietly, like ripples smoothing back into calm.

Qin Jin’s Class Fifteen was far away from Yu Zhu’s Class One.

Even though they were in the same teaching building, unless she deliberately sought him out, she might not see him once in an entire semester.

Her life, after that autumn rain that had stirred up a storm inside her heart, returned to its usual dull routine.

Classes.

Breaks.

Morning exercises.

Lunch break.

Classes.

Evening self-study.

The schedule copied neatly into her notebook packed every day to the brim.

Endless homework devoured every second and every breath.

Academics.

Entrance exams.

High school entrance exams.

University entrance exams.

Each word loomed like a mountain, pressing Qin Jin’s head down into the ocean of test papers.

Sometimes she worked late into the night.

The dorm lights were already out, but she still sat under the faint glow of her desk lamp, scribbling solutions to the last math problems.

Her mind, overloaded, would finally drift, giving her a rare chance to breathe.

And in that haze, she would recall the cool drizzle of that autumn rain.

The black umbrella sheltering her overhead.

The faint, refreshing scent of grass at her nose.

It had only been a short walk.

But somehow, he seemed to have stepped, one foot at a time, from that rain straight into the deepest part of her youth.

“Yu Zhu.”

Unconsciously, she whispered his name.

She looked at the word she had scrawled onto a blank corner of her notebook.

Then she switched off her desk lamp, lying on her bed to stare at the ceiling lost in darkness.

Yu Zhu.

The next time Qin Jin saw Yu Zhu, there were only twenty-eight days left until the high school entrance exams.

By late May, the heat was already scorching.

The air shimmered in waves, blurring the distant scenery.

The row of ginkgo trees in front of the teaching building drooped, their leaves wilting in the sun.

Because of the graduation photo, everyone in Class Fifteen had changed into their class uniforms bought earlier.

The design was a little retro, reminiscent of the Republic of China era.

Some of the girls, for the sake of beauty, tied their hair into twin braids.

Others leaned against the windowsills, commenting on the outfits of other classes while waiting for the class monitor to tell them when it was their turn.

As always, Class One—the pride of all teachers—strictly obeyed school regulations.

No flowing hanfu.

No formal dresses.

Just the usual blue-and-white school uniforms.

Neat, orderly, they stood in formation and stepped onto the stairs.

That day, the wind was gentle.

It rustled the treetops, scattering a mosaic of swaying light and shadow.

Yu Zhu stood on the steps, tall and slender.

The breeze tousled the hair across his forehead.

Perhaps the sun dazzled his eyes, for he blinked and, in that small moment, turned his head slightly—looking straight toward the junior third-year building.

Qin Jin’s heart stopped for a beat.

Then she heard it—everyone in her classroom letting out little gasps of awe.

He was always so dazzling.

The blazing sun in the sky.

The lighthouse guiding ships in the night.

The very image of youth’s brightest dream.

Back then, sharing one umbrella with him, Qin Jin had thought countless times:

This alone was already the greatest mercy Heaven had given her.

A mercy for a girl destined to live an ordinary, mediocre life.

That she had been allowed a glimpse of this world’s most breathtaking, radiant beauty.

“Jinjin, braid my hair for me.”

Xiao Fangfang tugged at her loose strands, walking over to Qin Jin’s side.

“Eh, okay.”

Outside, the photo session for Class One finished.

One by one, the students filed back upstairs, disappearing into the stairwell.

Qin Jin turned away, lifting Xiao Fangfang’s hair to braid it carefully.

After that, she never saw Yu Zhu again.

Under the blazing summer sun, the high school entrance exams at the end of June came to a close.

The bell rang.

Students poured out of classrooms in waves, blue-and-white uniforms churning like the rolling sea.

Qin Jin walked past Class One’s doorway.

Without realizing it, she stopped.

The exam proctor stepped out, arms full of test papers.

Inside, the classroom was already empty.

Only the messy scrawl of the exam schedule remained on the blackboard.

She walked to Yu Zhu’s desk.

The exam notice pasted to the corner had long since been torn away and hidden by someone.

Qin Jin sat down, trying to imagine what Yu Zhu must have felt as he sat here just hours ago.

She didn’t dream of stars anymore.

But at the end of this journey, she still couldn’t resist wanting to be a little closer to him.

The hallway outside was bustling.

Students peeked their heads in at the sight of her sitting there.

The shy girl who, just this once, had been a little brave—her cheeks grew hotter and hotter, flushed like a cloud ablaze at sunset.

Qin Jin touched her burning face, stood up, and walked out.

Around her, classmates descended the stairs in twos and threes, chatting about exams or about the upcoming summer.

The wind was light.

The sun overhead was dazzling white, forcing her to squint her eyes against its glare.

This chapter of her youth… had ended.

By mid-July, the exam results were released.

Qin Jin went to the city to take the entrance test for City No.1 High School.

After a suffocating ride on the long-distance bus, she rushed to catch the public bus heading toward the school.

Her stomach churned from motion sickness.

She pushed open the window halfway, letting the fierce wind wash over her.

The bus stopped and started again, winding its way across the city center.

Outside, tall buildings towered, and the streets teemed with hurrying pedestrians.

But among the blur of scenery flashing by, Qin Jin’s eyes caught one thing—two distinctive camphor trees standing before the gates of Jinghe Private High School.

Jinghe Private High School.

The high school Yu Zhu would be attending for the next three years.

The news of his choice had spread across Mingyue Middle School the moment exam scores were released.

Qin Jin’s knowledge of Jinghe was limited to its sky-high admission scores—so high they were untouchable, unimaginable.

She could never get in.

No one from Mingyue Middle could.

And so, Qin Jin could only go online to search for information.

Typing in the characters for “Jinghe,” the first images to appear were always those same two towering camphor trees shading the school gate.

Their thick, lush leaves half-concealed the carved words: “Jinghe Private High School.”

The trees outside the bus window flashed past.

Qin Jin turned her head stubbornly, unwilling to look away.

The boy she liked would walk beneath those two trees countless times in the future.

But on the long road of life, he and she… would never cross paths again.