At one in the morning, goose feather-like heavy snow began to fall outside the window.
Bai Kou tossed and turned, unable to sleep. She couldn’t take it anymore. She quietly got up, locked the door from the inside, and picked up her phone.
Leaning against the desk as she sat on the floor: 【Do you have time to chat with me again?】
…No reply.
After more than half an hour, she sighed and continued tapping the screen: 【Okay, no problem, but we’re still friends. If you ever need me, um, I mean, if there’s anywhere I can help, you can still come to me.】
Bai Kou looked at the line she had typed, then deleted the long part at the end.
She sent: 【Okay, no problem, but we’re still friends^^ Hope every day in your future is happier.】
After sending, Bai Kou exited the chat, paused for two seconds, then deleted the pinned conversation.
She put the phone in the drawer, lay back on the bed, and forced herself to close her eyes.
She had an important class tomorrow.
Time to sleep.
The next morning, the three of them sat at the breakfast table, each looking at their phones while eating.
Usually, Bai Kou would speak first, but for the past couple of mornings, she had been in a low mood. Bai Yuqiao was someone who naturally preferred quiet anyway.
So Yang Wanxi didn’t know what to say either. She glanced at the still gray and listless Bai Kou across from her, then turned her gaze to her phone screen.
【Boston Attack Tragedy: Truck Plows into Crowd, Killing 26, Injuring 2.】
Yang Wanxi scrolled to this news and paused mid-sip of her porridge. She flipped through the pictures. Though they were all censored, the dark red scenes still made her uncomfortable.
Further down, it described how two days ago, a black pickup truck had sped into a crowd waiting at a crossroad for the light. The driver got out and opened fire with a gun, killing 23 on the spot and 3 more who succumbed during rescue. Only two students, waiting behind a bus, were lucky enough to suffer minor injuries.
But they both had slight fractures too.
“Sigh.”
Yang Wanxi frowned as she finished the news, then scrolled down. The comments all discussed how those two students would surely be left with psychological trauma. Such evil.
“Oh right.” Bai Kou suddenly spoke. Yang Wanxi looked up to see her looking at both her and Bai Yuqiao next door. “Our school has an event on Christmas Eve. Parents can join too. Are you coming? Though it’s on a Tuesday.”
Yang Wanxi shrugged. “I’m okay with it. Nothing much lately.”
“Didn’t you say you had stuff to do and that’s why you stayed in Beijing?” Bai Kou asked suspiciously. “How come you’re home every day?”
Yang Wanxi immediately looked down and pretended to scroll her phone. “I handle things during the day and come home at night. You just get back late, so it feels like I’m always here.”
“Is that so.” Bai Kou eyed Yang Wanxi up and down, then turned her head and placed a hand on Bai Yuqiao’s arm. “Sis, what about you? I remember you don’t have work on Tuesdays, right?”
Bai Yuqiao smiled and nodded.
After eating, they helped tidy up a bit. Bai Kou went back to her room, slung on her art supplies, and said, “I’m off. Bye-bye.”
Yang Wanxi raised her hand, then suddenly remembered something and turned to call out, “Hey.”
“Hm?”
“You and Pei Yue—”
Before Yang Wanxi could finish, Bai Kou turned back, expressionless, opened the door, and said, “Bye-bye.”
Bang.
The door closed right after.
Yang Wanxi thought for a moment, her expression turning a bit grave. She got up and went to the kitchen.
“Yuqiao Sis, do you remember where Baidoudou told us Pei Yue went to study abroad?”
In the stairwell of the art studio, Bai Kou was heading upstairs when she heard someone call her from behind.
She turned. Tang Baini came over in a few quick steps.
“I saw your intention form.”
Tang Baini had just come back from the administration building that morning. In just over ten days, the major art academies would open registration for their school exams. She had gone to talk to the teacher alone before class. “You’re really only picking those three schools? Isn’t that too risky?”
“Um—” Bai Kou walked upstairs with Tang Baini. “Teacher Yue talked to me about this a couple days ago too. With my current state, it is pretty risky.”
“Risky is putting it mildly. You’re leaving yourself no fallback.” Tang Baini sighed. “National Academy of Fine Arts, Qingmei Academy of Fine Arts, Central Academy of Fine Arts—they’re all so hard to get into. At least pick one in-province. What if there’s priority admission? Your province’s art academy isn’t bad either.”
“Um.”
Bai Kou nodded. They had just reached the landing. She stopped, turned to face Tang Baini. “But Tang Sis, I can’t just aim for a not-bad school.”
She lowered her eyes. “When I decided on the Art Exam path, my mom and school teachers weren’t supportive. But my sis went with me to convince them. She told me not to overthink—just go all out once decided.”
Some other classmates passed by behind them. Bai Kou glanced at them first, waited until they were gone, then continued. “From childhood, she’s always supported what I wanted to do. Of course, once Mom agreed, she supported me too. To be honest, there was a time I felt lost, and that support turned into pressure… I couldn’t find a way out.”
Tang Baini listened with a furrowed brow, nodding occasionally, even gently rubbing Bai Kou’s shoulder.
Bai Kou pressed her lips silently for a moment, then raised her eyes and smiled. “Anyway, up to now, I still feel the pressure. But after switching classes, I finally found a path that might lead to a way out.”
No need to say more. Tang Baini, who had made the same choice to turn back and charge toward her goals, hugged Bai Kou and patted her back.
“Got it! Let’s not overthink! Let’s work hard together to find that way out!”
Bai Kou sat in the classroom, set down her bag. The teacher had already set up the easel on the podium.
The room gradually quieted.
Buzz.
Bai Kou’s phone, left at home, lit up.
—【Thanks, you too.】
“How weren’t you scared to death! Someone covered in blood suddenly lunged at us! ‘Socorro! Socorro!’… She was shouting that and grabbed Pei Yue’s arm.”
In the Boston apartment, Zhou Xiao sat on the sofa, surrounded on both sides by family who had rushed over from China.
After hearing Zhou Xiao’s story, her mom looked heartbroken and kept stroking her hair. “Oh dear, that was too dangerous, sweetie. Just drop the studies. Come home with Mom.”
“It’s not that bad.” Zhou Xiao waved it off. Just then, Pei Yue came out of her room with her bag. “Pei Yue had it way worse than me. That person died right in front of her. Look at her now—no big deal.”
“Oh wow, little Pei, you’ve got some guts.” Zhou Xiao’s mom looked up and praised her.
Pei Yue gave a faint smile and headed for the door. “Auntie, chat on. I’m off to school.”
Clang.
The elevator doors closed. Pei Yue suddenly slumped against the right wall, gripping the handrail tightly.
She dry-heaved.
But nothing came up. Her eye sockets turned dark, and soon a thin layer of cold sweat beaded on her neck.
Besides Zhou Xiao, who was at the scene, Pei Yue hadn’t told anyone else about the incident.
She didn’t want to worry her mom, or…
Thinking of that familiar yet distant name in her heart, Pei Yue straightened up. Her eyes, red from nausea, slowly calmed. She stared blankly at the digital screen.
Appointments for psychological counseling were backed up toward year’s end—lots of people, long wait. She could only be glad her major exams were done. Hang in there through this period, and she should recover a lot.
Pei Yue stepped out of the elevator.
Whenever her eyes met a stranger’s, a flash of fear automatically crossed her mind.
She kept her head down and hurried out of the building.
Just then, her phone, which hadn’t rung in a long time, suddenly did.
A phone call, no less.
Pei Yue thought it was the police calling again, so despite the falling snow, she pulled out her phone from her bag.
An unfamiliar number… from Heyan City.
In an instant, Pei Yue, standing in the icy snow, felt her whole body heat up.
As if possessed, she—who had vowed no more contact—pressed to answer.
“Hello? Pei Yue?” Not Bai Kou.
Pei Yue ducked under an eave. A snow-topped bus drove past. “Who is this?”
“Yang Wanxi.” The other side paused. “Remember me?”
“…” Pei Yue’s mouth fell open in surprise, instantly tense. “S-Sis Wanxi? Is something wrong with Bai Kou?”
“Ah, she’s fine.” A light click of a door closing came from Yang Wanxi’s end. “Nothing to do with her. I’m the one looking for you.”
Pei Yue’s clenched fist relaxed. “…Looking for me?”
Pei Yue had planned to just stand there and listen, but after Yang Wanxi asked where she was and insisted she find a warm spot to sit or they couldn’t talk, she did.
In the corner of a coffee shop, Pei Yue said into the phone, “Okay now.”
“You’re sure? You wouldn’t… lie, right?”
Pei Yue shook her head instinctively, then replied, “No.”
“I pretty much guessed what happened between you and Baidoudou. She’s been in a bad mood these past couple days.” Yang Wanxi said. “But Pei Yue.”
“Hm?”
“Small animals licking their wounds alone can get infected. Heard that before?”
Yang Wanxi jumped from one thing to another—one sentence about Bai Kou, the next some odd remark.
Pei Yue’s mind was already foggy lately; now it went totally blank. “Infected?”
“Didn’t you and your friend get in a car accident?” Yang Wanxi asked.
Pei Yue froze, thinking only, how in the world… Sis Wanxi.
“Looks like it really was you.” Yang Wanxi sighed. “How are you? Body feeling better?”
“Um…” Pei Yue unconsciously touched the silver cane hanging on her chair. “Body’s pretty much recovered.”
“Mm.” Yang Wanxi acknowledged.
“Sis Wanxi—” Pei Yue suddenly raised her voice a bit. “Can you please not tell Bai Kou.”
“I won’t tell her. She’s too busy taking care of herself right now.” Yang Wanxi said. “Since you don’t plan to tell her, that’s your choice. Whatever you two do, I’m not getting involved.”
Pei Yue bowed her head and nodded. “Thanks.”
“…” Yang Wanxi was quiet for a few seconds, then called her. “Pei Yue.”
“Yeah, Sis Wanxi.”
“Be super careful out there alone. And if your heart feels off, definitely see a doctor.” Yang Wanxi said warmly. “For things you can’t figure out, don’t get stuck in a rut. If you can’t find anyone to talk to, our relationship’s casual—you can message this number.”
The bloody thorn in Pei Yue’s heart suddenly felt like it had been gently tugged outward by a hand.
Still hurt, but loosened—like fresh air had gotten in.
Christmas was approaching. At Bai Kou’s request, Yang Wanxi bought snow spray, snowman, and Christmas tree stickers, then stuck them on the glass window.
At three-thirty in the afternoon, it was overcast, the outside gray and misty.
Bai Kou was at the art studio today, and Bai Yuqiao was out on errands.
Yang Wanxi thought of a movie she had just downloaded on her laptop not long ago.
She stared at the glass window for a bit, then turned to the TV.
Whoosh—
She drew the curtains, plunging the living room into darkness, with only a sliver of light from the window cracks.
“Buzz—”
Dramatic cello music swelled, and the TV screen showed white-domed ancient European buildings, with “BBC” fading in at the bottom.
Red brick pavement, children’s hawking calls… As the camera panned, English text appeared in the center—
Fingersmith.
Yang Wanxi went to the kitchen, washed an apple, sat back on the sofa, and hugged a pillow casually. “Crunch.” She munched the apple while frowning at the screen.
“Is this the movie? Looks like a suspense thriller.”
Around thirty minutes in, Yang Wanxi started muttering to herself.
Click.
The door suddenly opened. Bai Kou’s voice rang out. “Hey, why’s it so dark?”
Yang Wanxi jumped, instinctively pausing with the remote, and turned. “How’d you get back?”
“Head’s dizzy, feels like a fever.” Bai Kou said. “But temp’s only 37 degrees. Anyway, gonna nap, then head out tonight.”
Bai Kou glanced casually at the screen as she passed the living room. “Watching a horror movie alone at home?”
“Ah… yeah.” Yang Wanxi stood. “You lie down first. I’ll get you some hot water.”
“Thx—”
Bai Kou took two sips of water and said she was going to sleep. Yang Wanxi drew the curtains for her, taking a step back every few paces, looking a bit distracted.
“Don’t mind me.” Bai Kou pulled up the blanket and turned sideways. “Peace out afternoon.”
Yang Wanxi returned to the living room and turned the TV volume to the lowest. Bai Kou, feeling unwell, would sleep at least two or three hours.
