Chapter 10: Sing a Song for Me

After the snowfall, the campus air felt exceptionally fresh, as if filtered clean. The entire school was blanketed in silver white, with thick snow piled on the wide playground. Stepping on it produced crunching sounds underfoot, as if trampling all the unpleasantness from Christmas into the snow, never to be mentioned again.

After the simple relaxation of Christmas, the class placement exams became the top priority on everyone’s agenda.

Everyone worked hard toward their own goals.

Shen Jia Yan knew Wen Wan Ning had always been diligent. To stay close to her, she too studied hard, even in subjects she wasn’t good at.

Time slipped away quietly, impossible to grasp.

Shen Jia Yan wasn’t sure if she could be in the same class as Wen Wan Ning again, so she cherished every day, every minute, every second they spent studying together.

As long as Wen Wan Ning was by her side—even if not as deskmates, even if they just sat together studying without talking—it made her feel safe and happy.

The exams drew nearer, with only a few lessons left from the first semester of freshman year. Classmates cherished these final classes together even more.

In the last Chinese class, as per tradition, students read their own essays aloud before class started, in order of seat numbers—no restrictions on genre or length.

For the final pre-class sharing, it was Shen Jia Yan’s turn.

The topic she would speak on was already written on the far left of the blackboard: Sprinkle Memories, Cherish and Treasure Them.

The class bell rang, and the Chinese teacher entered, noticing the topic on the board.

“The student sharing today, please come up.”

Shen Jia Yan walked to the podium step by step.

“Life always brings unexpected warmth and endless hope.

Year 1 Class 7—from it we gathered, and because of it, we will part with reluctance.

Entering high school, we brought our youthful naivety, walking together, weaving songs of joy and laughter with teenage worries and helplessness into this poetic journey. Though it had moments of heartache and fatigue, they all became fuel for growth amid our youthful march forward.

I remember in the first hygiene inspection, our class won first in the grade by a perfect zero deductions, no suspense; in the first exam, we took third in the grade with great results—these were things we once took pride in.

But what followed were repeated declines in scores.

That time, the teacher cried.

‘I shouldn’t have set the bar so high at the start, leading to complacency. If our scores had started lower and climbed up bit by bit, it might have felt different. I’m the one who let everyone down.’

The teacher’s apology pierced our hearts like a sharp blade. Whether studies go well concerns oneself; scores depend on each individual.

In life, the most unpredictable is encounters—who knows when one begins. The hardest to bid farewell to is parting—who knows when it ends. From encounter to end, life wondrously composes joys and sorrows in silence.

In this final gathering, we were reluctant, helpless, unwilling to part, yet we had to. Over the past half year, we experienced much together—joy, sadness, success, regrets—but we remained by each other’s sides, walking hand in hand.

No banquet lasts forever. We hope to reunite someday. After tears dry, we still smile ahead. The times we strove together will forever warm our hearts.

Leave a small blank space in your memories for this collective that’s about to become the past to fill. It may be short-lived, with few memories—too many ‘maybes’ define our bond.

Temporary farewell is for a better reunion. May we meet again in this one-thousandth chance of fate!

Cherish these memories!”

Amid the prolonged applause, Shen Jia Yan lifted her gaze to Wen Wan Ning, her lips curving slightly, eyes soft as water.

Wan Ning, I hope I’m that special presence in your memories.

I hope fate lets us meet again…

The bell rang, ending the last Chinese class of the first semester of freshman year. Classmates and teacher bid each other reluctant farewells.

Wen Wan Ning smiled at Shen Jia Yan. “Jia Yan, your speech today was great.”

Shen Jia Yan blushed shyly. “It was okay, just some real thoughts from my heart. Don’t tease me.”

Influenced by Shen Yan since childhood, she loved literary books and jotting down everyday happenings in essays. Shen Yan often critiqued her writing, helping her improve. Over time, her skills had grown a lot.

“I really mean it—it was good. No joke. Can I have a copy of your speech?” Wen Wan Ning looked at her sincerely.

Being praised by the person she cared about made her so happy.

Shen Jia Yan’s bright eyes sparkled with surprise. “Of course! If you like it, it’s yours.”

She carefully pulled out the two pages of her speech and handed them to Wen Wan Ning.

“Thanks.” Wen Wan Ning tucked them away.

This break was supposed to be time for exercises, but they were canceled due to slippery outdoor paths, so the rest time extended.

Wen Wan Ning reviewed her notes, while Shen Jia Yan lay on her desk, spacing out.

Soft music played over the broadcast.

As Wen Wan Ning wrote, she suddenly sat up straight, tilted her head at Shen Jia Yan, and smiled. “Jia Yan, sing me a song.”

She’d occasionally heard Shen Jia Yan humming tunes, which sounded nice. With the long break today, she suddenly wanted to hear a full song.

Shen Jia Yan froze. “Huh?”

She hadn’t expected Wen Wan Ning to ask that. She already had some social anxiety, and singing in front of someone she cared about was mortifying.

“No way, I don’t really sing well,” Shen Jia Yan tried to brush it off.

Wen Wan Ning put away her gentle expression and pretended to glare coldly. “You really won’t?”

Shen Jia Yan was startled by the sudden seriousness.

She wasn’t truly scared of Wen Wan Ning—she just couldn’t bear to see her unhappy or angry.

“I’ll sing! Singing for my deskmate is my honor,” she quickly changed her tune.

Wen Wan Ning hadn’t been mad at all. Hearing that, she burst out laughing. “That’s more like it. Go on, I’ll listen.”

“What song do you want?” Shen Jia Yan propped her chin, asking Wen Wan Ning.

“Anything you sing is fine—I like listening to you.”

If Wen Wan Ning hadn’t been looking at her book without lifting her head, she would have seen Shen Jia Yan’s cheeks and ears flush red instantly.

“Um—” Shen Jia Yan thought for a moment and began to sing softly.

“I’m standing in the little corner by the classroom door

Stealing glances at your cute smile

You’re like clouds in the sky, I want to turn into a rainbow

The scent of orange soda drifts in the air

The cream on your lips makes my heart race

Our tacit understanding has a rhythm

It pulls my heartbeat along with you

Just like this, holding your hand all the way

…”

She hummed softly from her desk, occasionally turning to look at Wen Wan Ning.

Wen Wan Ning wore the blue-white-red school uniform with ear-length short hair. Her lively eyes under thick lashes shone with pure clarity. Fragmented light cast a halo on her, making her especially pleasing to the eye.

Shen Jia Yan stared, entranced…

The class placement exams were imminent.

Every student took exams in all subjects. Scores were announced separately for liberal arts and sciences rankings, which everyone used to choose their direction.

Though Shen Jia Yan planned to pick liberal arts like Wen Wan Ning, the odds of the same class weren’t high. She felt both anticipation and the likelihood of disappointment.

She had never looked forward to school days like this, wishing time at school could stretch longer, even longer.

The next day was the exam. After a simple classroom cleanup, desks and chairs were arranged per exam rules.

After setting hers, Shen Jia Yan went to Wen Wan Ning, adjusted her chair, and smiled softly. “Wan Ning, good luck on the exam tomorrow—you’ve got this.”

Wen Wan Ning smiled with warmth in her eyes but didn’t reply directly. Instead, she reached out. “Let me see your arm.”

Shen Jia Yan paused. She hadn’t expected Wen Wan Ning to still remember, feeling surprised and touched.

She extended her arm. “It’s fine now, almost healed. No need to worry.”

Wen Wan Ning lifted Shen Jia Yan’s forearm carefully. The wound had mostly healed but left a noticeable scar.

Her warm fingertips brushed the scar, sending an electric current through Shen Jia Yan’s body, igniting a blazing fire.

Shen Jia Yan’s fair cheeks flushed deep red, ripples stirring in her heart.

“Sorry, it’s my fault you have this scar,” Wen Wan Ning whispered.

“I told you it’s fine. Don’t blame yourself—I stepped up willingly. Plus, from training, I already have a few scars; this one’s no big deal.” She tightened her grip on Wen Wan Ning’s wrist.

Shen Jia Yan’s dark eyes met hers, brows arching attractively. “Okay, no more mentioning it—it’s in the past. Good luck tomorrow!”

How was Shen Jia Yan always so warm, warm enough to want to be friends with her for life?

Wen Wan Ning lowered her gaze and smiled faintly. “Okay, you too. I hope we end up in the same class.”

Hearing that, joy flashed in Shen Jia Yan’s eyes.

Her wish was to be in the same class as Wen Wan Ning. Hearing the same hope from her filled her with indescribable delight.

The exams arrived as scheduled.

Students entered the exam rooms one by one.

The exam bell rang—”ding ding ding”—and testing began.

The rooms were quiet and solemn. Each student focused on their paper amid rustling pages and scratching pens. Some frowned, others smiled—everyone pondered and checked for the best answers.

When the end bell rang, everyone sighed in temporary relief.

Most had decided on liberal arts or sciences beforehand; the exams just readjusted classes.

Of course, some hardworking students aimed for the Experimental Class via this exam—it had the school’s best teachers and focus.

Scores were posted two days later, after which everyone chose directions for class placement.