Chapter 29: Getting to Know You in These Three High School Years…

Shen Jia Yan took the letter back to her seat.

She suddenly felt that it weighed much less than she had imagined. How much response could such a thin sheet of paper hold? Was it sincere belief, or a distant farewell? Would they even be able to remain ordinary friends?

She stared fixedly at the letter paper, suddenly unsure if she was truly ready to read it.

Xia Yuxin saw the letter in her hand and asked softly, “Wen Wan Ning’s reply?”

Shen Jia Yan nodded.

“Why aren’t you reading it?”

“I’ll wait until after school.”

She needed time to prepare.

If the response was to decide on distance, she didn’t want to break down in the classroom. If it was acceptance—no, it couldn’t be acceptance. She had lied in that letter, saying it was just “like between friends.” How could Wen Wan Ning possibly accept a nonexistent emotion…

The bell for class rang, and classmates filed into the room one after another, beginning self-study.

In the desk drawer, the letter paper seemed to come alive, emanating an invisible heat that scorched the outer side of Shen Jia Yan’s thigh. Every minute, every second, she could feel its presence.

Finally, the bell signaling the end of school rang. She grabbed her bag containing the letter and stood up instantly.

“I’m heading out first.” She left those words for her deskmate Xia Yuxin and rushed out of the classroom.

The corridor echoed with hurried footsteps, wind pouring into the collar of her school uniform, billowing into a panicked arc.

“Uncle Li, let’s go.” The rear car door wasn’t even closed yet when Uncle Li heard Shen Jia Yan’s urging voice by his ear.

“Alright.” The driver said as he turned the steering wheel, “Why did Jia Yan come out so fast today?”

“Oh, maybe the teacher from another class held them late.” Shen Jia Yan brushed it off.

Half an hour later, the car pulled steadily to a stop in front of her home.

Shen Jia Yan jogged inside. After greeting Shen Yan and Jiang Jing in the entryway, she headed straight upstairs to her room.

She closed the door, sat on the chair with her bag in her arms.

After taking two deep breaths, she unzipped the bag. She carefully took out the letter paper and laid it flat on the desk.

She unfolded the folded part, and familiar handwriting leaped into view.

She read it word by word, sentence by sentence, afraid of missing or misinterpreting anything from Wen Wan Ning.

Until she read the final sentence, “I still really hope we can get into the same university.” The heart she had been holding finally settled.

Wen Wan Ning had believed her “lie” and was willing to continue being good friends.

She even hoped they could get into the same university.

This hope ignited Shen Jia Yan’s fighting spirit.

Wen Wan Ning was right—this wasn’t the time for mutual guessing of feelings. They should focus on their studies.

With the college entrance exam approaching, for herself and to be closer to Wen Wan Ning, she had to give it her all.

Though both tacitly agreed they were still best friends, they no longer waited for each other after school like before.

Shen Jia Yan thought that perhaps not walking together, giving each other some space, might be better for their relationship.

One evening after school.

As soon as the bell rang, Jiang Yufei and Chu Ye dashed toward the snack stalls at the school gate. Shen Jia Yan and Xia Yuxin walked out together.

“Hey.” Xia Yuxin nudged Shen Jia Yan’s arm with her elbow and jerked her chin forward. “Isn’t that Wen Wan Ning up ahead?”

Shen Jia Yan looked up and spotted her immediately—it was indeed Wen Wan Ning.

Since they had cleared things up in the letter last time, they hadn’t run into each other.

The campus wasn’t big, but true chance encounters weren’t easy.

Shen Jia Yan missed her terribly but was also a bit afraid to see her.

She didn’t respond to Xia Yuxin, just nodded lightly.

Seeing her muted reaction, Xia Yuxin thought for a moment, flashed a sly smile, and suddenly snatched her bag, running off quickly.

Shen Jia Yan froze in place, then snapped back.

She saw Xia Yuxin run ahead of Wen Wan Ning with her bag.

With no choice, she had to get her bag back.

She jogged after her, passing Wen Wan Ning.

“Shen Jia Yan!”

A familiar soft, clear voice sounded from behind.

Shen Jia Yan stopped.

Wen Wan Ning walked up beside her, frowning. “Didn’t you see me?”

Shen Jia Yan glared toward Xia Yuxin ahead, then turned with a smile. “Ah, I was running too fast just now and didn’t look clearly.”

Just then, Xia Yuxin ran back. She handed the bag to Shen Jia Yan, feigning helplessness. “Here, she insisted I carry your bag for you.” A mischievous grin tugged at her lips. “Giving it back now—I’m off to find Yufei and Chu Ye for some late-night snacks.”

Before Shen Jia Yan could retort, she bolted away.

Wen Wan Ning watched Shen Jia Yan’s hesitant expression and felt like laughing.

She composed herself and said softly, “Since your roommate’s gone ahead, why don’t we walk together?”

Shen Jia Yan’s ear tips flushed red, her grip tightening on the bag strap. “Mm, okay.”

It had been so long since they’d walked together; why did she feel shy?

After walking a bit, Wen Wan Ning turned to her. “Jia Yan.”

“Hm?”

“When you’re a day student, you don’t have to trouble your roommates to wait. We can walk together.” After a pause, Wen Wan Ning added, “Of course, if you’re willing.”

Shen Jia Yan hadn’t expected Wen Wan Ning to bring it up suddenly. Her heart skipped half a beat. She subconsciously gripped the strap tighter, her fingertips trembling slightly, the heat from her ears spreading to her cheeks.

“I, I’d love to.” Her voice was so soft it was almost inaudible, yet exceptionally clear in the evening breeze.

Feeling it was too direct, she hurriedly lowered her head, pretending to organize the side pocket of her bag.

Wen Wan Ning watched her reddened ear tips, her own lips curving unconsciously. That familiar tacit understanding between them returned, just like countless school dismissal evenings before.

The warm yellow glow of the streetlights bathed the space between them. Shen Jia Yan secretly glanced sideways at Wen Wan Ning’s profile, noticing how her lashes cast fine shadows under the light, a faint smile seeming to play at her lips.

“Then… see you tomorrow.” At the fork in the road, Wen Wan Ning said softly.

Shen Jia Yan’s brows and eyes lifted. “See you tomorrow.”

30 days until the college entrance exam.

Shen Jia Yan still waited for Wen Wan Ning every evening after school, and no conflicts arose between them again.

They both knew that right now, besides the exam, the most important thing was cherishing the few remaining days they could walk together through the high school campus after school.

They treasured each one.

Shen Jia Yan’s art exam results had been announced back in early spring. She passed easily, ranking second in the province.

Wen Wan Ning’s target was Jingbei University, while hers was Jingbei Media University in the same city.

As the exam neared, she only regretted not having worked harder sooner to apply to the same school as Wen Wan Ning.

What was done was done; she had to face reality. Fortunately, her art scores were excellent, and her cultural subject scores were top among art students. She could settle for the next best: a school in the same city.

Jingbei Media University was one of the top three media schools nationwide, and Shen Yan and Jiang Jing were quite satisfied with it.

Though her art scores were strong, it was still a nationally renowned university—cultural scores mattered a lot.

With a goal in sight, Shen Jia Yan threw herself fully into studying, without a hint of slacking.

Seeing her state, Jiang Jing sighed, “If only she’d studied this seriously earlier, she could’ve gotten into a good school without the art exam.”

Time seemed packed into an accelerated hourglass, slipping away in the blink of an eye to the eve of the exam.

During the last evening self-study of senior year, the classroom was so quiet that only the sound of turning pages and pens scratching across test papers remained. The night outside the window was thick as ink, occasionally pierced by the chirps of summer insects.

Suddenly, a “zzzt” of static electricity broke the silence, followed by the familiar light cough of the academic director over the broadcast. “Seniors, this is your last evening self-study of high school. The teachers have a few words for you…”

The entire teaching building erupted in commotion. Everyone set down their pens and looked up at the speaker in the corner of the classroom.

“This is a special gift for you.” Their homeroom teacher Sun Yan’s gentle voice came through, and Shen Jia Yan’s eyes heated up instantly.

Teachers from each subject offered blessings in turn. The math teacher joked unusually, “No more wrestling with my killer final questions from now on”; the English teacher said in perfect pronunciation, “You are all my pride,” only to crack at the end; even the strictest physics teacher softened her tone, “Don’t rush during the exam—stay calm…”

When the prelude to “Tomorrow Will Be Better” began, Shen Jia Yan’s pen slipped from her fingers.

She saw the girl in front shaking slightly, and her deskmate Xia Yuxin pretending to organize her papers, though her reddened ear tips betrayed her.

The song echoed down the corridors. She seemed to see flashes of their three years: sun-burnt cheeks during military training, cheers rising and falling at the sports meet, white breaths in the winter morning classroom, and those evening self-study sunsets outside the window…

“Sing out your passion…” During the chorus, the entire grade joined in song. Off-key, cracking, tearful voices blended together, more moving than any professional choir.

As the song faded, the broadcast ended with: “Kids, go take a look at tonight’s stars.”

The corridors exploded with noise as everyone rushed outside.

Shen Jia Yan followed the surging crowd out of the teaching building. The summer night breeze carried the sweet scent of locust blossoms across her cheeks. She stood under the phoenix tree, looking around, until that familiar figure entered her sight.

Wen Wan Ning walked toward her through the fragmented moonlight.

“Wan Ning.” Shen Jia Yan called softly, her voice laced with tentative tenderness.

Wen Wan Ning smiled at her, tear tracks still glistening at the corners of her eyes under the moonlight. She turned to the cheering crowd in the distance, her voice soft. “I never imagined our teachers could be so romantic.”

Shen Jia Yan gazed at the gentle contours of her profile and suddenly mustered her courage. Her fingers lightly brushed Wen Wan Ning’s fingertip. Feeling no pull away, she slowly enveloped her entire hand in her palm.

Wen Wan Ning’s lashes fluttered, but she didn’t withdraw, letting their palms press together quietly in the night.

“Did you cry?” Shen Jia Yan asked softly, her thumb unconsciously rubbing the back of Wen Wan Ning’s hand.

Wen Wan Ning looked up at the still-lit windows of the teaching building, letting the evening breeze dry the tears on her face. “No.” Laughter tinged her voice as she gripped Shen Jia Yan’s hand tighter. “Maybe my eyes hurt from singing too loudly in the chorus.”

Shen Jia Yan smiled.

Three years of time flowed through their fingers, yet in this moment, it became the warm dampness between their clasped palms.

“Shen Jia Yan.” Wen Wan Ning suddenly called her full name, her voice light as a sigh. “We—” Her unfinished words were cut off by a sudden swell in the music.

“What were you going to say just now?” Shen Jia Yan heard her own heartbeat thundering.

Wen Wan Ning looked down at their still-interlocked hands and smiled suddenly. “I just suddenly felt…” Her thumb gently traced Shen Jia Yan’s wrist bone. “Getting to know you in these three high school years… was truly wonderful.”

Shen Jia Yan’s eyes welled up. “Me too, Wan Ning.”

Wen Wan Ning gazed at Shen Jia Yan’s profile and found her looking back.

Moonlight spilled across her cheek, illuminating the clarity in the girl’s eyes. She knew that this night, this song, these tears and smiles would become the most precious footnotes of their youth.

The stars in the night sky shone exceptionally bright, as if someone had crumbled three years of dawns and dusks and scattered them across the canopy. In the distance, someone shouted “Happy graduation!” the echo lingering between the buildings.

On this night mingled with song, tears, and starlight, youth quietly drew to a close in the gentlest way.