Chapter 8

Lao Zhuang didn’t like it when everyone put too much effort into extracurricular activities. He generally held a neutral stance towards these non-compulsory school-organized activities, which essentially meant he didn’t encourage or discourage participation.

Even though he said this, everyone understood what it meant—it was as good as not allowing participation.

During English class one day, the English class representative informed everyone to go to the stair classroom. Passing by Class 2-20, Xia Li habitually glanced inside.

When they arrived at the stair classroom, students from Class 2-20 were prominently seated in the first three rows. In the innermost seat of the third row near the window sat Yan Sishi. He was always so eye-catching that one couldn’t help noticing him, yet he remained quiet and aloof, detached from the crowd.

Girls from Class 7 immediately cast their gazes towards Yan Sishi, whispering to each other.

The English teacher spoke up, instructing everyone to quickly find their seats.

Xia Li saw a few bold girls immediately jostling each other to occupy the seats behind Yan Sishi.

Once the classroom quieted down, the English teacher smiled and asked, “Did Lao Zhuang forbid you from participating in the New Year’s Eve party?”

“Yes!” Some students from Class 7 expressed considerable resentment.

“So, we’ve secured an opportunity for you.”

The English teacher usually employed flexible and varied teaching methods, such as organizing a small English singing contest in class where everyone had to participate, or letting students choose their favorite English animation and dub a few minutes of it.

She was a rare teacher in this environment who didn’t adhere strictly to exam-oriented teaching styles.

The English teacher raised her hand to silence the room. “Don’t celebrate just yet. Let me finish before you decide whether to participate or not.”

She introduced the other two teachers on the podium, the two foreign teachers from Class 2-20. “I discussed with Bill and Jessica, and we plan for your two classes to collaborate on a play. Listen carefully: you will write the Chinese script yourselves—Lao Zhuang must approve it. If it’s not up to standard, he’ll send it back to you first. Once approved by Lao Zhuang, both classes will translate the script into English and submit it to us three teachers for revision.”

Class 7 monitor Zhu Xuan asked, “Does that mean the performance will be entirely in English in the end?”

“Otherwise, why would Lao Zhuang agree?” The English teacher lightly tapped on the table. “Let me make it clear: the lead roles cannot all be from Class 2-20. Since Class 7 has more students, they should contribute more actors. At least a one-to-three ratio between the two classes.”

“Zhu Xuan, Tao Shiyue, you two class monitors come up to the stage and organize the division of labor.”

As Zhu Xuan walked towards the podium, she said, “I’m afraid we won’t have time for rehearsals. Lao Zhuang definitely won’t allow us to miss classes.”

“Then you’ll have to figure it out yourselves. See if you can sacrifice lunch and dinner times. I’ll consider giving you a few extra English classes.”

After the English teacher finished speaking, she walked to the side with the two foreign teachers, giving the podium to Zhu Xuan and Tao Shiyue.

They communicated for a few minutes, and then Zhu Xuan said, “Xu Ning, your essays are the best in the entire class. Can you take charge of the Chinese script?”

Xu Ning was extremely focused on one subject, scoring 150 in math, but struggling to get between 100 and 110 in others.

In contrast, her Chinese composition had always been printed out as model essays and “transmitted” throughout the grade.

As a Chinese teacher, Lao Zhuang both loved and hated such students, having countless conversations with Xu Ning, urging her to focus more on the subjects she struggled with. He even gave her privileges; during his Chinese classes, she could do math problems without listening.

Xu Ning said, “I can’t do it alone.”

“Then let Lin Qingxiao and Xia Li help you. First, come up with some general themes and directions. After you decide, we’ll provide you with the help you need when writing the script.”

“Then there’s the English translation…”

Zhu Xuan selected a few good English students from Class 7, and everyone agreed.

Tao Shiyue said, “As for the translation, what about Class 2-20?”

She looked towards Yan Sishi. “Yan Sishi, can you help when the time comes?”

Xia Li felt the classroom quiet down for a moment.

Almost everyone had heard of Yan Sishi, but few had interacted with him.

In everyone’s unanimous impression, they found him to be cool and difficult to approach.

It was hard to imagine such a person willingly participating in campus activities.

In this silence, Yan Sishi responded with an almost emotionless “Hmm.”

Zhu Xuan concluded, “So, you few will be in charge of the script. Then there’s costumes, music, and stage design…”

“Zhu Xuan handles things efficiently, systematically arranging each task clearly. On the spot, she roughly drafted a timetable.

According to the timetable, Xu Ning only had two weeks to finalize the subject and complete the script.

After class, Xu Ning immediately pulled Xia Li and Lin Qingxiao aside for discussion.

Xia Li seemed distracted, her attention focused on Yan Sishi not far ahead in the corridor.

Tao Shiyue walked alongside him, the noise around them drowning out their conversation.

During dinner, Xu Ning asked Xia Li and Lin Qingxiao to accompany her to Classroom 20 to discuss the direction for their project.

Tao Shiyue chose the location, claiming Classroom 20 was spacious.

Lin Qingxiao wasn’t on good terms with Tao Shiyue. She told Xu Ning that she endured this only for her. Xu Ning laughed and promised to treat her to a meal after the New Year’s Eve party.

Xia Li first went to the broadcasting station. By the time she hurried over, the others had already been discussing for a while.

In Classroom 20, four desks were arranged into a large table, covered with KFC snacks.

She walked over and apologized for being late.

There was one seat left, diagonally across from Yan Sishi, the farthest from him.

Xia Li sat down and casually glanced at Yan Sishi.

He wasn’t in school uniform today, wearing a dove-gray hoodie. The light gray color suited him, giving him a clean and youthful look.

The discussion continued.

After listening for a while, Xia Li learned that Xu Ning had three project directions in mind.

One was adaptations like “Teahouse” and “Thunderstorm”, which were originally plays requiring only translation, thus less effort.

Another was classic Western plays like “The Merchant of Venice” or “Hamlet”, already in English, making translation seem redundant.

The third option was an original script.

Zhu Xuan said, ‘Xu Ning, what are your thoughts?’

‘I lean towards the first option.’

‘Is there not enough time for an original script?’

‘If it must be original, that can work too.’

Everyone shared their opinions and ultimately thought adapting “Teahouse” or “Thunderstorm” might be more practical.

‘Um…’ Xia Li spoke up.

Everyone turned to look at her.

Xia Li said, ‘Ning Ning, have you considered historical adaptations? Like the Battle of Red Cliffs or the Xi’an Incident… It’s semi-original and wouldn’t be as difficult to develop.’

Xia Li excelled in history among her three humanities subjects and ranked in the top three of her class.

She might not excel in other areas, but her memory was good. Give her a piece of paper and a pen, and she could almost perfectly recall important years and events from history textbooks.

Thinking about historical adaptations was her habitual thought process.

Xu Ning seemed inspired, ‘That angle does seem interesting.’

They continued the discussion.

A girl suggested, ‘I think the Battle of Red Cliffs could work. Three Kingdoms is a popular theme. The scenes with the straw boats and Zhuge Liang’s cottage are iconic.’

Xu Ning noted everyone’s ideas.

At this point, Xia Li raised her hand, ‘Can I share my thoughts?’

Xu Ning nodded.

‘I actually think the Xi’an Incident might be better. It involves more characters beyond Zhang Xueliang, Yang Hucheng, and Chiang Kai-shek. You could expand to include Soong Meiling, xxx, and Song Ziwen… Most importantly, if we add a student protest demanding Chiang to stop civil war and unite against the Japanese, then all classmates could participate.’

At this moment, she noticed Yan Sishi, who had been somewhat detached from the discussion, suddenly glance at her.

She hesitated for a moment, stumbled, then continued, ‘… We’ll be entering our final year next year. Lao Zhuang will definitely tighten up before next New Year’s Eve. By then, everyone will be preparing for the college entrance examination, and maybe no one will be in the mood to play. This year is our last chance to really have fun, so I hope everyone can participate.’

Zhu Xuan vigorously nodded, ‘Yes, if it’s just a few people playing, it won’t be very interesting. What do you think, Xu Ning?’

‘I have no problem. It depends on the translation…’

As a humanities experimental class, Class Seven definitely ranked among the best in English in their grade. However, translating literary scripts was a different matter.

After some discussion, everyone looked at Yan Sishi, leaving the final decision to him.

Xia Li had heard that Yan Sishi had received bilingual education since childhood.

Yan Sishi calmly said, ‘You decide. I’m fine with either.’

So after a brief discussion, they settled on “The Xi’an Incident.”

At this point, Tao Shiyue noticed the uneaten snacks and pushed them towards everyone, ‘They’ll get cold if we don’t eat them!’

Xia Li ate some fries, quietly observing Yan Sishi.

He held a cup of cola, leaning back slightly. His expression seemed somewhat bored.

She kept replaying the moment when he glanced at her while she was speaking. Was there any deeper meaning to it, or was it just casual?”

She kept replaying in her mind the look he gave her when she spoke earlier. Was there meaning behind it, or was it just casual?

—

Saturday.

Xia Li took the bus to the new library in Chucheng City. Xu Ning’s script was completed and reviewed separately by the history teacher and Lao Zhuang. Several students from Class Seven finished translating it, handing the text over to Yan Si for final approval. Today, they had arranged to meet at the library for discussion.

Xia Li forgot her umbrella when she left home. The weather forecast had been predicting rain all week, but it had been overcast for many days without a drop, so she assumed today would be the same. However, shortly after boarding the bus, the rain began to fall, tapping against the window glass and forming small streams that snaked downward.

The library was a short distance from the bus stop. Xia Li got off the bus, held her nylon backpack over her head, and ran through the rain with her head down.

When it came to cold and rainy weather in winter, Chucheng could be bone-chilling. The damp cold seemed to seep directly into one’s bones.

The rain seemed to intensify.

Xia Li tucked her neck in and quickened her pace.

The new library in the city had just been completed this year and was one of the flagship projects in preparation for the provincial sports meet in a few years. Therefore, it was grandly built. In front of the main building, there were several dozen steps made of uniform gray-white stone slabs, spacious and solemn, making the journey to the library feel like a pilgrimage.

Xia Li had just climbed a few steps when she suddenly heard a clear, cold voice behind her: “Xia Li?”

Because of the wind and rain, the voice sounded faint and unreal.

She hesitated for a moment, thinking it was a figment of her imagination, but still turned around to look.

Parked by the roadside was a black sedan, and Yan Si stood next to the car door, holding a black umbrella in his hand.

He gently closed the door with his hand, and the car illuminated its left turn signal, leaving with two blurred red tail lights trailing in the gray rain, silently disappearing.

Yan Si stepped up onto the steps.

He was wearing a black turtleneck sweater and pants of the same color. The dark color didn’t make him look dull at all; instead, it accentuated his fair skin.

Xia Li stood still in astonishment, still feeling the palpitations from when he had called her name for the first time just now.

Yan Si walked up beside her and asked softly, “Didn’t bring an umbrella?”

Before she could respond, the black umbrella was already tilting towards her.

As the shadow fell over her, she felt her heart leap out of her throat.