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Join the ServerQin Jin’s first year of high school proceeded in an orderly manner.
She adapted to a new environment, made new friends, and wrestled with harder math problems.
The once lively class group chat fell silent.
Aside from the occasional advertisements posted by classmates who’d had their accounts hacked, no one spoke up anymore.
She unpinned Class 15’s group chat, letting it sink into the darkness along with her former self.
The next time she heard the name Yu Zhu was at the end of August, after her first year of high school ended.
The summer break was drawing to a close.
The air was hot and dry, cicadas chirped incessantly from the branches.
Qin Jin finished her homework in her room, unlocked her phone, and saw Class 15’s group chat suddenly exploding with messages.
The screen displayed “99+,” with new notifications pouring in nonstop.
“How is that possible?”
“That’s fake, right?”
“No way?”
“Where did you get this info? Who told you? Is it real or fake? You know lying like this can get you jailed!”
“This is way too fake. That’s Yu Zhu we’re talking about. Of all people, it can’t be him!”
The chat kept refreshing frantically.
The moment Qin Jin saw the words “Yu Zhu,” her heart skipped a beat.
Her fingers trembled, her body tensed with sudden unease.
Her subconscious told her that whatever they were saying couldn’t be anything good.
But she didn’t dare think too deeply.
She quickly scrolled upward, searching the chat history.
Then, she froze, staring blankly at the short line of text on her screen.
“Yu Zhu from Class One… seems to have committed suicide.”
In the sweltering heat, it felt like a bucket of ice water had been poured over her head.
Suicide…
What did that mean?
For a moment, Qin Jin didn’t even recognize those two characters.
Panicked and lost, she kept scrolling back through the chat.
Her teeth bit into her lip, her whole body chilled with fear.
Suicide.
Impossible.
That was Yu Zhu.
How could it be possible?
He was so dazzling, so proud, always the center of attention.
How could someone like him…
“Details, I don’t know,” a classmate posted.
“My cousin in Jinghe just said he’d been missing for nearly half a month. The police only found his suicide note two days ago.”
The anonymous classmate paused, then added:
“It was probably in Zhou’an.”
Zhou’an.
The name conjured in Qin Jin’s mind an endless stretch of deep blue sea.
It was as if the sea breeze carried flecks of saltwater into her eyes.
Her throat tightened.
She couldn’t say a word.
No… fake… it has to be fake…
Impossible…
It can’t be…
Cold dread surged from her feet upward.
Qin Jin stopped scrolling and shot to her feet, trembling violently as she looked toward the blinding sunlight outside her window.
No.
No.
Something’s wrong.
“I wish it weren’t true,” another message came in.
“But it is. The note was real. Jinghe’s a mess right now.”
Suicide note…
Qin Jin shuddered.
So cold.
So cold.
Please.
Please.
It can’t be true.
It can’t.
Under the burning, dazzling sunlight, the girl trembled all over.
She pressed her hands desperately over her face.
Tears leaked through her fingers.
That night, Qin Jin curled in the corner, her swollen eyes wide open.
She didn’t dare close them, afraid that once she did, she would see him again.
See him stepping barefoot across sand, walking into the sea.
No matter how she screamed, how she cried, begging him not to go forward—
He never once turned back.
She could only watch as he disappeared, slow and inevitable, into the dark water.
No…
Please…
“Don’t go, Yu Zhu—”
The girl jolted awake from her nightmare.
Her palms were slick with sweat.
Her forehead drenched in cold moisture.
The next morning, she rushed through her wash-up.
She didn’t even touch the breakfast her mother had prepared.
She ran down the stairs and caught Bus 17 at the stop outside her home.
Only after boarding did she have time to tie her messy hair and straighten her clothes.
She used her bangs to hide her red, swollen eyes, pressed her forehead against the window, and tried to steady her breathing.
The class group chat still hadn’t stopped refreshing.
More and more people were asking teachers and classmates in Jinghe for confirmation.
Every answer only reinforced the truth.
Doubts gave way to regret.
Some even posted anonymously, asking if the body had been found…
Had been found…
The last two words made Qin Jin’s lips quiver uncontrollably.
Her vision flashed white before going black.
In a daze, she powered off her phone.
She couldn’t remember how she got off the bus.
Couldn’t remember boarding Bus 261.
It was as if she were dreaming.
In that dream, she met a boy named Yu Zhu.
The boy was like a star—dazzling, warm, impossible not to notice.
The ordinary girl never dared approach a star.
But his light gave her a few steps of courage.
Then one day, someone told her—
Her star had fallen.
Her star was gone.
And the dream ended.
The bus to Zhou’an reached its terminal stop.
Qin Jin wiped her tears, stepped onto the wide asphalt road.
The sunlight blazed harshly.
She turned the corner and stopped.
“Whoo—whoo—”
The sea breeze gusted strong and wild, carrying the sharp scent of salt.
Seagulls wheeled overhead, diving swiftly toward the waves.
Foamy surf crashed against jagged rocks, leaving a long ribbon of white along the shoreline.
But the sun was too bright.
Qin Jin crouched down, whispering to herself, as tears spilled harder and harder, soaking the ground.
The sunlight was really too harsh.
She couldn’t remember how she got home that day.
Only the burning air, the briny sea wind, the icy seawater.
All blurred.
That whole period of time, when she tried to recall it later, was like looking through a mist of water.
She couldn’t remember the scenes.
Couldn’t remember her own face.
Didn’t dare remember how she felt.
It hurt too much.
It really hurt too much.
The tender ache of young love felt like every bone in her body was being broken apart.
Later, summer ended.
The group chat fell silent again.
Qin Jin returned to school.
Aside from the occasional blank daze, everything seemed unchanged.
But how could nothing have changed?
Especially for Yu Zhu’s parents.
Even strangers grieved deeply.
As for his parents, their sorrow was unimaginable.
Qin Jin saw them again the day college entrance exams ended.
Her test site was at Jinghe Private High School.
That day, heavy rain poured down.
She came out of the exam hall and slipped under her parents’ umbrella.
Beside her stood a weary couple, also holding an umbrella, peering anxiously into the hall like any other parents waiting for their child.
She had seen them before, at Mingyue Middle School’s opening ceremony.
They were Yu Zhu’s parents.
Their faces were haggard.
Their once-black hair had turned mostly white.
They were so frail and worn it hurt to look at them.
In the crowd, they stood like a hollow space—
Yearning desperately for someone who would never return.
A sudden shove from the crowd knocked Qin Jin off balance.
She lost sight of Yu Zhu’s parents.
Just as she rose on tiptoe to search, a strong hand pulled her out of the press of bodies.
Her father clutched her hand tightly.
Her mother held up the wavering umbrella.
“Careful. We still have to go celebrate. Don’t end up in the hospital right after the exams.”
Her father teased.
She followed them, lips pressed tight in a faint smile, fingers clutching her father’s sleeve.
On the drive home, the rain grew heavier.
They were stuck in traffic.
The radio gently reminded drivers to be cautious, warning of frequent accidents in stormy weather.
The wipers swung back and forth monotonously.
No one knew how long they had been stuck when her mother gasped, picking up her phone and handing it to her father.
“Honey, there’s been a crash on Linyu Road. We shouldn’t take that way later—let’s go around through Dongsheng Road.”
“I see. But who knows how long this jam will last. When we head back via Dongsheng Road, we should…”
Qin Jin didn’t hear the rest.
Her phone lit up with the same news.
“Three dead, one injured! Torrential rain causes another tragic accident in City C!”
She clicked into the report.
Even with the images blurred, she skipped past them.
Her eyes landed on a single word.
Yu.
The report was short.
She read it again and again.
Finally, she closed her phone and buried herself in her mother’s arms.
“What’s wrong, Jin Jin? Feeling down? Forget it, the exams are over. Don’t dwell on—”
“Mom…”
“What is it?”
“That was…”
“My classmate’s parents.”
“What? Your classmate’s parents? What do you mean—”
Her mother froze, then fell silent.
After a while, she asked:
“Your classmate… how is he? Was he in that car too, or…”
Qin Jin didn’t know how to answer.
She buried her head deeper, tears soaking her mother’s clothes.
How could she answer?
Snowflakes drifted in winter.
Memories stabbed like a thousand tiny needles.
On Bus 261, the girl sobbed quietly.
The sound muffled through her gloves, heavy and suffocating.
The boy she once looked up to had once taken this very bus.
Perhaps he had even sat in the same seat.
But he never came back again.
TL Note:
Zhou’an (洲安): A fictional seaside location.
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