Chapter 63: The Rooftop Confession

The afternoon sky had brightened considerably.

Fiery clouds stretched across the western horizon.

Clutching a plastic bag filled with bread, I ascended to the rooftop.

It should have been a self-study session, yet I found the classroom’s clamor unbearable.

I informed the class monitor I needed to use the restroom, using it as an excuse to slip away.

As for the classroom’s aftermath, ever since that resounding slap, the boy named Bai Hailong had earned the dubious distinction of being the first student in the school’s history to receive a major demerit and write a self-reflection essay on the very afternoon of his first morning.

Moreover, the person this boy had offended was Chen Feng. If it had been anyone else, it might have been fine, but Chen Feng’s father was the mayor’s secretary—a title that alone was enough to give anyone a headache. Who knew what retaliatory measures might be taken?

Truthfully, I needn’t have worried so much.

That grandson Chen Feng had borrowed over two hundred yuan from me, ten yuan at a time, repeatedly.

I had asked for it back, but he would always laugh it off, claiming he hadn’t brought money today and apologizing insincerely.

His father was a minor secretary, constantly nodding and bowing before the mayor. Logically, Chen Feng shouldn’t have lacked pocket money, yet each time he borrowed, it was merely an excuse to bully me for his own amusement.

Therefore, I wasn’t a saint. When Chen Feng went flying with his desk, I was actually quite pleased.

The steps, illuminated by the sunlight filtering through the gate’s bars, cast bright sections upon the wall and stairs.

I kept my gaze fixed on the light on the ground, following the steps upward.

This rooftop was my own little secret. Originally, students were forbidden from accessing the school’s rooftop, but the lock on the door had long since broken due to disrepair.

In the beginning, teachers strictly guarded the rooftop during breaks to prevent students from entering. However, over time, perhaps the work became tedious, or perhaps a few teachers argued over it. Now, even when I walked towards the rooftop with my plastic bag, they would simply pretend not to see me, turning a blind eye.

Before me, the sunlight seeping through the gaps in the gate’s bars grew brighter. I sighed and pushed the heavy door open.

At the far end of the rooftop, in the midst of a fiery cloudscape, he leaned languidly against the railing, gazing down at the entire school. The wind ruffled his streaked hair.

I watched him, standing still for a moment, then shook the bag in my hand and settled onto a bench nestled against the railing.

Without the obstruction of buildings, the sky appeared exceptionally vast. As evening approached, it shimmered with a faint purple glow.

I opened the bag in my hand, pulled out a piece of bread, and turned my head. He remained in that same posture, motionless in the heart of the expansive fiery clouds, as if silently burning.

“Damn, it’s really cool as hell,” the person, who looked somewhat handsome against the scenic backdrop, finally spoke.

I actually felt an uncharacteristic urge to greet him. That grandson Chen Feng had owed me money for an entire semester, and while I never flared up about it, his actions carried an unspoken malice that I truly disliked.

And that worthless fat guy, the way he tumbled on the ground just now, gave me a small thrill.

I pondered whether to say hello. ‘Hey, that slap of yours was really cool, wasn’t it?’

I tore open the bread packaging. The air was cool, but the atmosphere around us felt somewhat heavy.

I took a bite of bread, and cream oozed from the fluffy pastry. Upon reflection, I hadn’t eaten lunch, which made the cream taste exceptionally sweet and rich. I twisted open my green tea bottle and took a sip.

After eating bread for a while, I said, “The Dean of Students took you away earlier.”

The person leaning against the railing clearly flinched, then turned to look at me. I narrowed my eyes, focusing my pupils. His figure was silhouetted against the light, like a dim shadow.

He said, “Oh, it’s you.”

After a moment, he suddenly asked, a hint of urgency in his voice, “Do you, do you have any more of that bread?”

Chewing my bread, I nodded.

I always bought two or three pieces of bread, eating them slowly on the rooftop, watching the sky gradually darken.

The first piece was to fill my stomach; the rest, along with a drink, served as snacks. I wasn’t in a hurry to go home, as I lived alone, and the house was empty. Sleeping there or here made no difference.

I looked down and rummaged through the plastic bag. He approached somewhat hesitantly, a sheepish smile on his face. I glanced at him, then pulled out a pineapple bun from the plastic bag and offered it to him.

He smiled, excitedly fumbling with the bread in his hand, and sat beside me, saying, “Thanks!”

“Didn’t you eat?” I asked.

He cursed, tearing at the wrapper in his hand. “Didn’t have time to eat. The moment we stepped into the dean’s office, it was like a damned criticism session. I had to bow and scrape, and even apologize to that fat guy! Why should I apologize to him? I was sleeping soundly, and that bastard used a rubber band to flick me!”

I took a bite of my bread and asked, “So, did you apologize?”

He tugged at the corner of his mouth, taking a long moment before replying, “…I did.”

I nodded knowingly, bit into my bread, and watched the fiery clouds in the distance.

Seeing that the conversation had stalled, he lowered his head and, with impatient hands, grabbed the bread, taking a huge bite and closing his eyes in satisfaction. He chewed, then stared at me for a moment, saying, “Are you skipping class right now…?”

Without looking at him, I nodded. “The fiery clouds are quite beautiful.”

He chuckled. “I was just asking. You don’t look like the type to skip class. Besides, isn’t it class time now?”

His words implied a certain logic: because I didn’t look like a class-skipper, I must not be one.

And indeed, I didn’t resemble a bad student who skipped class. The person in my bedroom mirror was tall, thin, and silent, with a pair of hidden eyes staring back at me, making me want to slap him. The ‘him’ in the mirror lacked the strong will to be a good person, yet was too cowardly to commit evil; he was merely a listless scoundrel.

Accustomed to this kind of judgment based on appearance, I bit into my bread and nodded. “It’s self-study.”

He smiled. “Self-study in this garbage school is complete nonsense.”

I nodded in agreement.

He unceremoniously took a swig of my green tea, then stood up, looking content.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

He smiled. “To have some fun… Wanna come?”

I recalled that hitting someone in class was a serious matter, and it had only been half a class since he left. I thought for a moment, then asked, “Didn’t the dean’s office make you write a self-reflection paper or something?”

He laughed dismissively. “They did, but I didn’t write it, damn it. I hate writing.”

I shook my head repeatedly. The setting sun was gradually dipping below the horizon. I stood up, gathering the bread wrappers, crumpling them into a ball, and stuffing them all into the plastic bag.

“Forget it,” I said. “Give it to me, I’ll write it for you.”

He watched me collect the trash, growing impatient. “Why be so serious about that stuff? I’ll just write, ‘Today I beat someone up, and I’m damn happy about it…’”

I shook my head. “You’ll be expelled.”

He looked at me hesitantly, and after what felt like a long while, he asked, “Why are you helping me?”

I carefully packed the trash, tying the plastic bag shut.

All traces of our presence on the rooftop were completely erased, as if no one had ever been there.

“You’re quite interesting,” I said. “I don’t want you to get expelled so soon.”

He smiled, leaning against the railing and gazing at the expansive sports field.

At that moment, class ended, and the dismissal bell rang. The teaching building seemed to quake, the sounds of colliding desks and chairs intertwining.

Yet, the two of us truants remained leisurely, watching the students, backpacks slung over their shoulders, form a surging tide of humanity, chatting and laughing as they exited the school gates.

We both stood on the rooftop, observing them. I was contemplating the best way to write the self-reflection paper, while he watched the school crowd, lost in thought.

****

The next morning, during the first class, that boy submitted a self-reflection paper that he read with remarkable passion. Its content deeply analyzed the impact of his original family environment and outlined his profound blueprint for changing that influence.

The group of students below watched in speechless awe, while the teacher listened, completely stunned. After he finished, the boy scratched the back of his head and asked, “Am I done?”

The teacher asked, “Did you write this??”

The boy, feigning innocence without batting an eye, replied, “That’s right!”

The self-reflection paper was written with great sincerity. Although the teacher still felt something was amiss, she scrutinized Bai Hailong for a long time. However, since the writing itself had no apparent flaws, she allowed him to return to his seat and resume class.

This was a physics class. The teacher picked up the textbook from the lectern, gave him a few more glances, then slowly began to lecture.

Amidst the teacher’s lecture, Bai Hailong leaned his head closer and whispered, “Dude, I have to sneak out later. If the teacher asks, just say you don’t know.”

I sighed. “You just hit someone yesterday, just read your self-reflection paper today, and you’re going to skip class again?”

Today, the boy’s expression was uncharacteristically serious. He was silent for a moment, then said, “Something happened to my brother. I need to go find him.”

I nodded, not asking too many questions.

This person, whether in appearance or in his way of dealing with others, was not much different from a street hooligan. If you were to say he was going to sneak out of school right after class, grab a stick, and go fight someone, it wouldn’t seem too far-fetched.

The teacher’s lecture felt exceptionally long, even extending five minutes past the bell. I was holding my book, reading, and kept feeling that the person beside me was restless.

The teacher lectured from the book for a while, glanced at the clock in the hall, and announced, “Class dismissed.” Before the words were fully out, Bai Hailong suddenly stood up and shot out of the classroom door like a gust of wind, leaving the teacher stunned once again.

Chen Feng patted me on the back from behind, smiling as he asked, “Where’s that kid going?”

I glanced at him, then returned my gaze to my textbook. “He went to the restroom.”

The teacher was still at the podium, looking at the clock, then bending down to rummage inside the large classroom desk. The monthly exam was scheduled for tomorrow and the day after, so she needed to prepare some test papers today. It was already after class, and I sighed, feeling a bit hungry. I considered scaling the wall to buy some bread to stave off my hunger.

The classroom was now bustling with students as class had ended. I slowly walked down the aisle towards the classroom door. As I passed the lectern, the teacher suddenly said, “Lu Ren, do me a favor.”

I was genuinely quite hungry. The break time had already been squeezed short, and if I wanted to leave the school, I would have to run like mad. I clutched my stomach and said, “Teacher, please find someone else. My stomach hurts a bit.”

That old bastard waved his hand dismissively:

“How bad can your stomach hurt? Go to the printing room in the adjacent school building and bring me a stack of test papers. Be quick about it.”

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