**53**
In winter, it gets dark early. Just after nightfall, there were still quite a few people coming and going in the neighborhood, mostly rushing home after work.
Ruan Yinmeng was walking along the roadside carrying her bag and some oranges, while two pedestrians walking in the same direction chatted along the way.
Suddenly, one of them said, “Did you know a student from the Art Academy jumped off a building a couple of days ago?”
“It’s all over,” another voice accused, “Parents raised you to this age, supported you through college, and not only do you not study well, you even dare to jump off a building, with no conscience at all.”
Their neighborhood was close to the university campus, so whenever something big happened at any university, it wouldn’t be long before the news spread, becoming the residents’ topic of conversation over meals.
When Ruan Yinmeng heard “Art Academy,” she slowed her pace.
Hearing the words “jump off a building,” her heart suddenly skipped a beat. She thought of Chi Sheng’s unusual behavior on his birthday—did he see something and get scared?
But if it were because of this, Chi Sheng wouldn’t have kept it from her.
“What else could I do? After being caught doing that kind of thing, no matter where I go, people will poke fun at me.”
“What’s going on?” The other person, clearly not getting the full scoop, sensed there was more to the story and immediately perked up.
Homosexuality. Don’t understand? It means…
Ruan Yinmeng quickened her pace, walking past them, leaving their gossiping voices behind. She walked so fast that she didn’t even realize how she got home. She only turned on the light, closed the door, and then leaned against it, her chest heaving violently.
She put down her things and sat at the desk. Was Tian Chisheng’s unusual behavior because of this?
Would she hear similar words at school too?
Being talked about behind her back was something that happened often before. No matter how harsh the words, Ruan Yinmeng had heard them all and could pretend not to hear, not taking them to heart.
But now, the words spoken by those two passersby were not even directed at her and Chi Sheng, yet Ruan Yinmeng found it hard to bear.
It wasn’t for herself—someone like her wouldn’t mind being spoken to or scolded a few times face to face—but what about Chi Sheng?
Someone as bright as Chi Sheng, how sad she must feel being caught in such rumors.
She was absent-minded all night, lost in thought for the first time after opening her book.
Time dragged on second by second. Finally, it was ten o’clock. She guessed that Chi Sheng should be arriving soon, so she got up, took the oranges to the kitchen, washed them clean, and cut them into a plate.
She wanted to talk to Chi Sheng; she knew that feeling was unpleasant.
But she didn’t wait for Chi Sheng to come; instead, she only received a phone call.
“I can’t come tonight,” Chi Sheng said on the other end, his tone somewhat frustrated. “I have something to do tomorrow morning.”
Ruan Yinmeng’s hand pressed on the table tightened, and she responded softly, “Okay.”
Chi Sheng didn’t rush to hang up. There was the sound of wind on her end, as if she was walking. Ruan Yinmeng didn’t hang up either, just listened to her breathing and the sound of the wind.
“Ruan Yinmeng,” Chi Sheng called her once.
She always liked to call her by both her surname and given name, but it didn’t feel distant; instead, there was an indescribable intimacy.
Ruan Yinmeng always liked it when she called her that, but at this moment, for some reason, her heart tightened, and she asked softly, “Why?”
“I really want to hug you,” Chi Sheng said.
The tightness in Ruan Yinmeng’s heart eased, and she actually felt a bit weak. She sat down by the edge of the table, a slight smile curling at the corner of her lips.
Chi Sheng suddenly acted foolishly, not hearing her response, and kept asking, “Do you like it when I hug you?”
Her voice carried a smile, making Ruan Yinmeng smile along with her. She nodded: “Mm.” After speaking, her smile deepened, and even though Chi Sheng was not in front of her, she still shyly lowered her head and said, “I like you.”
Walking to the bus stop, just as a bus arrived, Chi Sheng got on and found an empty seat at the back to sit down.
The teacher had just called to inform her that the guidance session originally scheduled for Sunday evening was moved to tomorrow morning. Chi Sheng was still dissatisfied with many parts of her painting and could only go back to school at night to make corrections.
By the time she got to school, it was almost eleven o’clock. She went straight to the studio.
There were still a few classmates in the studio, gathered together chatting and joking. Chi Sheng wasn’t very familiar with them, so she just smiled lightly as a greeting and then focused on her own work.
After midnight, she was the only one left in the studio.
She was immersed in her painting and, as dawn approached, she slept for a while in the studio until the teacher called her.
This competition had a great influence and a high prize. If she could win, both she and Ruan Yinmeng could have an easier year ahead, and it would also provide a great platform for her paintings, which would be extremely beneficial for her future development.
Chi Sheng carried the painting to the teacher’s office.
The office was a single room, arranged to look like an art studio, with only a desk placed near the entrance for work.
When Chi Sheng arrived, two classmates were already there.
The art academy only had two spots for the competition. Originally, these two students were confirmed, but the teacher suddenly saw Chi Sheng’s work and was quite impressed, wanting to reconsider the spots and add her. This meant one of the originally chosen two had to step down.
No one wanted to withdraw, and the teacher didn’t want to force anyone. This painting guidance session was actually an internal selection: out of the three, two would be chosen, and whoever’s painting was better would compete.
Seeing Chi Sheng arrive, the teacher smiled and waved at her, saying, “Come, let me see your painting.”
Chi Sheng walked over and handed the painting to the teacher.
In previous years, the contestants were mostly juniors and seniors. It was rare for a freshman like Chi Sheng to catch the teacher’s eye and be strongly recommended.
But Chi Sheng was used to being outstanding. She had won many awards and was constantly praised for her exceptional talent.
So when she received such favor from the teacher, she was grateful but not intimidated, confidently bringing the painting along.
The teacher took the painting, and only then did Chi Sheng turn his gaze to the other two classmates in the room, politely nodding to them and greeting them with a calm and confident tone: “Hello, senior sister, hello, senior brother.”
The senior female student moved closer to the teacher to watch together, and after just one glance, she exclaimed, “Spiritual energy.”
Spiritual energy is the rarest; no matter how you train, you can’t produce it.
The senior male student graduated from the same high school as Chi Sheng, two years ahead of her. Instead of rushing to look at the painting, he asked with concern if Chi Sheng hadn’t slept at night, noticing her heavy dark circles.
Chi Sheng wasn’t familiar with him and wasn’t used to such closeness, so she smiled and said, “It’s okay,” then focused her attention back on the teacher.
The teacher reviewed all three paintings one by one, pointed out some shortcomings, and by the time he finished, it was already noon.
“Alright, the selection results will be announced to you on Monday.” The teacher let them leave first, keeping only Chi Sheng behind.
The teacher pointed to the chair in front of him and asked her to sit down: “You’ve seen the works of the senior students, do you know where your weaknesses lie?”
All three paintings were placed on the easel, each with a different style and unique characteristics, among which Chi Sheng’s personal style was the strongest.
Her painting style was like a galloping steed on the grassland, like a breeze passing through the green forest, and also like the brightest sun in midsummer—both fresh and rich, both free yet carrying a sense of order and restraint. It was very contradictory, but it was precisely this contradiction that made her paintings exceptionally striking.
Chi Sheng thought for a moment: “The fundamentals are not solid enough.”
The teacher nodded, “You lack practice.”
This is also a common problem for naturally gifted players—they have extraordinary comprehension, but lack perseverance in practice, especially since they are still children and can’t sit still. Asking them to draw a few more sketches is simply torturous.
The teacher had taught many students and was no longer surprised: “If you continue like this, you’ll be at a disadvantage when facing old-fashioned judges.”
After all, talent is praised, but diligence is even more commendable.
When Chi Sheng heard the word “judging,” his heart stirred, but the teacher’s expression was natural, so it didn’t necessarily refer to the judging of this competition. He suppressed that flicker of emotion and, looking dejected as if scolded by the teacher, said, “I understand, teacher.”
A shadow flickered outside the door, but the two were so engrossed in their conversation that no one noticed.
The teacher looked at Chi Sheng and shook her head. “Don’t just talk without action. Your counselor told me you often go off campus. Where do you go? To play? You need to focus.”
As she spoke, she pulled out a blank sheet of paper and scribbled on it with a pen. “This is the assignment for you. Finish it by this weekend and hand it to me on Monday.”
Chi Sheng took a look and saw that it was all basic exercises. She immediately felt overwhelmed and pleaded with the teacher, “So much, teacher, can it be a little less, just a little bit?”
Her clear and delicate brows furrowed into a tight knot, looking like she couldn’t bear the burden, but not in a way that made her annoying. The teacher, amused, said with a stern face, “Not even a little bit. You must finish it, and you have to keep practicing in the future!”
Chi Sheng’s plea was ineffective, so she had no choice but to carry the pile of exercises away.
She calculated the time and realized that aside from tutoring, she would basically have to spend all her time in the studio.
This week, she wouldn’t see Ruan Yinmeng. Chi Sheng sighed, reported this matter to Ruan Yinmeng, and then focused on practicing.
After rushing for two days, she finally finished by Sunday noon.
She hurried to her tutoring student’s home, and after finishing the lesson, felt a wave of relief. This busy week was finally over.
While waiting for the bus, she received a call from Su Miaomiao.
Su Miaomiao was still angry. When she answered, she didn’t say a word.
Chi Sheng didn’t indulge her. Leaning against the car window, he said lazily, “If you’re not going to say anything, just hang up.”
Su Miaomiao immediately started firing off like a machine gun: “We’re going to that barbecue place on North Hunan Road, are you coming?”
Chi Sheng had originally refused because she was supposed to meet her teacher in the evening, but since the teacher moved the appointment to yesterday morning and she had finished all her practice, her entire evening was free today.
She hadn’t hung out with classmates and friends for a long time, and Chi Sheng felt a bit tempted.
“Come on, Zhang Lie is there too, he’s been talking about you for a while, and a few senior students will be coming later. It’s rare to have such a lively gathering.” Su Miaomiao softened her voice and started persuading again.
Chi Sheng watched the people and scenery quickly retreating behind him.
The sky darkened, and the streetlights on both sides of the main road lit up. On a winter evening, no matter how many people or cars there were, there was still a sense of desolation.
She had changed from before, no longer playing and joking with classmates, no longer gathering in groups to laugh and talk, as if the youthful days of calling friends together and being full of spirit had passed.
She was quite melancholy; after all, when she was in high school, she had imagined her college life would be vibrant and colorful, just like the phrase “Youthful classmates, in the prime of life” depicted.
But…
Chi Sheng was slightly distracted as the bus stopped at a certain station. Outside, a group of people riding bicycles sped past, pressed close to the bus body—they were workers heading home from work, all wearing matching uniforms.
Chi Sheng’s furrowed brows relaxed.
I’m not going.
If I go this time, what about next time? And after that? Energy is limited; she ultimately can’t manage so many things, nor is she lucky enough to have everything and lose nothing.
Going home at this time means she can just make it for dinner.
She didn’t know when it started, but she and Ruan Yinmeng tacitly called that shabby little rental apartment home, and she willingly felt that it was home.
She got out of the car and ran all the way home. When she opened the door, she saw Ruan Yinmeng still working on her problems. The house was cold and quiet, giving off a chill.
Chi Sheng’s smile faltered, and he glanced toward the kitchen. The kitchen was dark, with no sign of any cooking.
“Why did you come?” Ruan Yinmeng was stunned, unable to react, looking at the person who had said early this morning that she couldn’t come home this week.
Chi Sheng walked over: “I came as soon as I finished my work.”
She walked up to Ruan Yinmeng, who had to look up at her. After looking at her for a while, her expression was filled with surprise and joy. She stood up and turned toward the kitchen: “Then I’ll go cook.”
But Chi Sheng grabbed her wrist.
Ruan Yinmeng looked back at her, somewhat puzzled, but there was still a smile in her eyes.
Chi Sheng, however, was unhappy. She pressed her lips together and looked at her reproachfully: “If I don’t come back, will you not eat?”
Ruan Yinmeng’s gaze was gentle and soft. She curved her lips slightly and stared at Chi Sheng. Chi Sheng’s previously fierce expression softened, and she couldn’t help but be touched by the extremely tender smile.
She looked at Ruan Yinmeng foolishly.
Ruan Yinmeng gently shook her head, looking at him like he was a silly child, and sighed softly, “Aren’t you going to hug me?”
As soon as she finished speaking, Chi Sheng hugged her tightly.
The kitchen light was turned on, the gas stove was lit, and the aroma of the food quickly filled the air, completely driving away the cold chill in the room.
Their dinner was simple but warm; it was prepared quickly. Ruan Yinmeng cooked, and Chi Sheng took care of the dishes—a reasonable and fair division of labor.
After dinner, Ruan Yinmeng still had to do exercises.
She would also complain to Chi Sheng a little, wondering why it was so difficult. Chi Sheng would lean over to look at the problems, often only needing a quick glance to know how to solve them, then carefully explain them to Ruan Yinmeng, responsibly acting as a little teacher.
After Chi Sheng finished explaining one problem, he turned to ask her, “Do you understand?”
Ruan Yinmeng understood and nodded, then continued writing.
Chi Sheng simply took all the exercise sheets next to her and started correcting them one by one.
Then she marked all of Ruan Yinmeng’s weak knowledge points, planning to explain them to her all at once later.
Ruan Yinmeng glanced at her from time to time, occasionally zoning out.
She watched Chi Sheng take a pen and quickly scribble on the paper, solving problems that seemed incredibly difficult to her. She saw her making marks in the book, underlining and drawing, writing lightly and simply, confident and composed.
Ruan Yinmeng casually asked, “At school, do you get along well with your classmates?”
Chi Sheng answered casually, “Not bad.”
There wasn’t much interaction, but no conflicts either, so it was considered pretty good.
Ruan Yinmeng wrote a few questions, then asked, “Has anything unhappy happened during this time?”
Chi Sheng paused with his pen, looking up at her.
The only unpleasant thing was that classmate falling from the building in front of her. She felt as if Ruan Yinmeng was implying something, but she didn’t want to talk about it. Besides, it was useless to say anything, and she didn’t want Ruan Yinmeng to be affected either.
“No.” She said naturally, then smiled, looking a bit proud, and changed the subject, “But there’s some good news—I might have a chance to participate in a very prestigious competition…”
She originally wanted to say that if she won the prize, there would be a large sum of money, but then she thought that since the participants hadn’t even been decided yet, it was better not to mention it. If she got rejected, it would make her seem like she was bragging.
Ruan Yinmeng was indeed very happy and praised her a couple of times, but when Chi Sheng lowered his head to continue working on the questions, Ruan Yinmeng became even more worried.
Chi Sheng had class first thing in the morning. She left early, and as she walked out of the residential complex, someone called her from behind.
She turned around and saw Su Miaomiao and her group.