I was carrying a huge burden, and all the teachers at Bright Kindergarten more or less knew that I’d gone out to have fun with Li Yongquan, only to sneak back to Neng County alone on the third night without a word to anyone.
Everyone kept giving me side-eye, and I had no idea if they were shocked about when I’d hooked up with Li Yongquan or why I’d bailed halfway through.
When Li Yongquan passed by me, he tugged at his T-shirt and cleared his throat. Not knowing how to face him, I dodged aside. Whatever lingering thoughts I had about maybe dating him to kill some loneliness vanished into thin air. We brushed past each other without a word.
If I’d vented about it on my Moments, someone might’ve questioned Li Yongquan’s character and assumed he’d gotten handsy or something. But in the end, it was news from Liu Ming and Li Yongquan’s side that spread, so I couldn’t play the victim.
Zhu Erting knew some of the specifics. What I’d told her was that Liu Ming had creeped me out big time and I’d gotten scared. In the middle of the night, feeling super emo and overthinking it, I’d impulsively come back. It wouldn’t be right to run back now either, so the awkwardness was just hanging there.
But the more specific details—like Gan Ling egging me on and my momentary lapse in judgment—I left out. If it’d just been me, I probably wouldn’t have acted on it. I’m always good at backing down, putting up with things, and pretending nothing happened. It’s like knowing I have to jump off a cliff; I’d just hug my head and squat there on the spot. But then Gan Ling suddenly pops up from below yelling that she’d catch me, and I leap right off. The psychological twists and turns were like a ball of yarn clawed to shreds by a cat—total chaos, impossible to trace, and not something I could easily spill to a friend. Zhu Erting had a gut feeling there was more to it, but since I wouldn’t say, she let it drop.
Who knows what wild story my friend had cooked up in her head. During naptime, instead of calling her boyfriend, she stuck to her duty and watched the kids for me. I couldn’t calmly observe each child’s growth in the quiet; I was on pins and needles. Zhu Erting patted my shoulder, like she was comforting me.
As I was sitting there, a face suddenly floated up against the window glass. Zhu Erting slowly shook my hand—though I’d already spotted him. Li Yongquan was crouched down peeking inside. I was about to stand up when Zhu Erting suddenly got all loyal and pinned my hand down, her brows furrowing like that girl from some story who eyed Liu Sanjie warily when the landlord Mo Huairen showed up. I’d forgotten her name.
I lowered my voice: “It’s fine, nothing’s wrong… I’ll talk to you when I get back.”
I pushed open the door and went out. Li Yongquan stood in the hallway with his arms crossed, raising a finger to his lips to shush me, then nodding toward the end of the corridor. I got it, quietly closed the door, and we headed to the shady spot outside the building, backs against the lion-and-sheep wall, facing the plum tree and the swing set in the sandpit.
Li Yongquan suddenly spoke up: “You free this week? If you are, wanna go catch a movie together?”
I thought for a sec: “You wanna talk about what happened over summer break?”
Being so direct was like a dagger straight to Li Yongquan’s guts. He let out an “ah,” awkwardly spinning in place: “No, no, hasn’t that blown over already?”
“Just the two of us?” I asked.
“Yeah, then hit up some pool after the movie. You play pool?”
Li Yongquan’s suggestions were always proactive, lively, all planned out—like Lu Jinshi, rock-solid certainty that put people right at ease.
But for some reason, I just couldn’t let go of the summer thing: “What about Liu Ming? You still in touch with him?”
“Liu Ming’s not coming.”
“I know Liu Ming’s not coming.”
Images of Liu Ming’s every move flashed before my eyes again. I seemed dead set on dragging Li Yongquan down with him but didn’t bring it up outright. Facing a twenty-year-old Li Yongquan, I couldn’t cling to one phrase like I would with Lu Jinshi. I wasn’t that age anymore, after all.
“I’m almost thirty, a total old auntie. Can’t keep up with that fresh stuff anymore—one move and my back aches, waist hurts. Don’t like the hassle. Why don’t you ask someone else?”
Playing the old lady card worked in front of Li Yongquan. With seven years on him, if three years makes a generation gap, then me and him might as well have two chasms between us. I was being ungrateful, no doubt. A twenty-year-old fresh hunk, juicy and prime, handsome to boot—I should’ve treated him with a consumerist attitude toward hot guys. Instead, I’d chickened out. From start to finish, it felt like a farce. Li Yongquan was just a shadow, and the real body casting it was still blurry.
After turning Li Yongquan down, Zhu Erting figured I had some untold story I hadn’t shared with her. She wasn’t that close with him, but after that, every time she passed him, she’d huff disdainfully to show her contempt. I’d say Li Yongquan hadn’t done anything wrong, don’t be like that, and she’d call me too spineless, her huffs getting louder.
Zhu Erting’s loyalty was over the top. First week back to school, the principal called all the teachers for a meeting. I was basically just there to make up numbers but got tapped to take the minutes. The principal droned on about our work attitudes, how to get the kids back on track, reviewing holiday life as an important part… After it wrapped, I was saving the doc when the principal called me to her office. I picked up her computer and headed over.
Not even a few minutes after I left, Zhu Erting and Li Yongquan got into it.
It started because Li Yongquan hadn’t caught something and muttered that the mic needed replacing. Zhu Erting, sitting right next to him, snapped back that everyone else heard fine—maybe he should get his ears checked. He’d been putting up with her disdain this whole time and felt totally blindsided, so he shot up and demanded: “What’d I ever do to you?”
Zhu Erting sniped back all sarcastic: “You haven’t done anything to me. Who’d dare mess with you?”
The more she said that, the madder he got, grabbing her for an explanation. But she was just venting for me, so she kept up the sarcasm without dropping my name directly or spelling out what she assumed he’d done to me.
Everyone at Bright Kindergarten knew Zhu Erting and I were tight, so Li Yongquan got it right away and asked her: “Did Jiang Xiaohui say something to you?”
“She didn’t say anything—I figured it out myself. If you’re so capable, don’t be afraid of people talking about it!” Zhu Erting didn’t think it through and just unloaded. Li Yongquan felt slandered out of nowhere, furious, and grabbed her collar: “What did I do? What did I do? Spell it out! How can you slander someone like this?”
Other teachers pulled them apart, but Zhu Erting never gave men the time of day. She treated them like products—sample the good ones, toss the bad, never a shred of fear. She stuck her neck out: “Fine! Can’t argue so you resort to hands? What gives you the right? What right do you have to hit me? Say it!”
Even with a hundred mouths, Li Yongquan couldn’t explain. Suddenly, a lightbulb went off in his head: “Jiang Xiaohui badmouthed me? What’d she say?”
“I already told you she didn’t say anything—”
That day, Gan Ling had interrupted me, so the apology I’d meant to send Li Yongquan stayed in the message box unsent. By the time the moment passed, I’d deleted it. I’d handled things wrong. After my talk with the principal, I came out and heard the rundown, piecing it together.
Li Yongquan came storming over to find me, fuming: “What’d you say behind my back? What’d I ever do to you?”
Staying silent wouldn’t do in the kindergarten, heavy on female staff who could spin all sorts of tales. But jumping straight to defending Li Yongquan would screw over my friend Zhu Erting.
I’m usually pretty quiet, low presence at the kindergarten. Suddenly going off wouldn’t fit my style. I tugged at my hair, thought for a bit, then said: “No, she must’ve misunderstood… I mentioned something about Liu Ming. It’s not your fault.”
With onlookers around, I had to lay out the facts. It was me, a grown adult, who’d botched it: “I overreacted a bit. Liu Ming probably didn’t mean any harm. I meant to clear it up with you that day but forgot once I got back. My bad. Zhu Erting was just worried about me and must’ve mixed up the names in the heat of the moment.”
But that just confirmed his friend had done something to me. Li Yongquan opened his mouth: “Liu Ming had no bad intentions. He’s just kinda gross like that. I vouch for him—even if you stripped naked right in front of him, he wouldn’t touch you. He wouldn’t go for someone like you.”
Someone like me?
I froze for a second.
Li Yongquan said: “Then you gotta clear it up with your friend. Why dump all this on me? You’re no different from some scammer. What’d I do wrong to deserve this? I had a bowl of noodles, damn it—why slander me?”
He was super aggrieved, face flushed red, jabbing a finger at me in fury. I was still stuck on those “someone like you” words, speechless for a beat, which made it look like I was copping to the scammer bit.
I said sorry, but Li Yongquan shot back that sorry didn’t cut it—his rep was trashed, not mine.
I had no other apology to give. I asked where Zhu Erting was. Li Yongquan was pissed to high heaven: “That’s it, just sorry? If sorry fixed it…”
The female teachers had Zhu Erting pinned in the office. She was fuming like she’d downed booze, cheeks flushed red, slumped crooked in her chair. The second she saw me come in, she blurted: “That Li Yongquan—”
“I’m fine… thank you.” In front of a group of female teachers, it wouldn’t be appropriate for me to say Zhu Erting scolded the wrong person.
I said it was just time to get off work, so let’s head back together and talk slowly.
After today, I’ve completely cemented my reputation as a green tea bitch.
I didn’t really mind it that much.
The principal chatted with me about that plum tree in the courtyard. It grows low to the ground and doesn’t bear fruit. Occasionally battered by wind and rain, it drops branches that smash into the kids. It stands all alone next to the swing set. Some naughty children climb it, so it’s never safe. They were thinking of transplanting it elsewhere when one of her friends took a liking to the tree and planned to move it to a maternity center in the city. The greenery there lacks the vitality of age—too neat and orderly. This plum tree is all crooked, having weathered full seven years of wind and sun. Perfectly, one of the trees there had died, so it’d make a great accent.
Zhu Erting and I were dragging our electric bikes out of the bike shed when suddenly, she said, “I just don’t think this is like you at all.”
“What?”
“Suddenly rushing back… Even if you’re mad, you rarely go out of your way to cause trouble for others. The more I think about this incident, the less it seems like your style. Did something really happen? Want to report it to the police? I’ll go with you. Or post about him online—no problem.”
The electric bike swayed unsteadily along with my words as I said really, nothing happened. Zhu Erting kept pressing me, but she wouldn’t believe it. Suddenly, she gunned it forward, leaving me far behind.
I chased after her on my bike until Zhu Erting finally pulled over to the roadside. She turned back and glared at me. “Say it or don’t—you’ve always been like this, never treating others like friends.”
