FYM CH9: A New School, A New Life

The grudge between Song Jian’an and Cheng Ye was brief in its origins. As Gao Xinhe said, the day was cloudless when suddenly a storm broke out, and the midsummer downpour came in a rush.

When high school began, the school held an entrance exam and assigned students to classes based on their scores. Song Jian’an and Cheng Ye ended up in the same class.

Cheng Ye’s reputation in Xiliu Village was never good. He looked fierce, got into fights at a young age, and since his father never cared about him, no one really knew how good his grades were.

It was only after classes were assigned that Song Jian’an learned the top scorer was Cheng Ye. He didn’t think much of Cheng Ye at first, but once he knew Cheng Ye was number one, he even brought a problem he couldn’t solve to him, genuinely wanting to learn.

At that time, the rain was pouring heavily. The whole class was trapped in the classroom, students grumbling noisily. Song Jian’an, holding his book, walked over to Cheng Ye, who sat in the back row.

They were only in their first year of high school, but Cheng Ye had already grown tall. His long legs were cramped beneath the desk, his face marked with scars from who-knows-where, and his brows pressed low.

Song Jian’an asked politely:
“Hello, Cheng Ye, I have a problem I can’t figure out. Could I ask you about it?”

Cheng Ye shoved his book into the desk, not even looking up.
“Can’t.”

Song Jian’an felt brushed off.
“You haven’t even looked—”

With a loud scrape, Cheng Ye pulled out his chair and stood up, towering over Song Jian’an by almost a head.

“Get lost.”

If the internet had been as developed back then as it would be a decade later, Song Jian’an would have summed Cheng Ye up in just one word: “poser.”

But he was too young at the time. Caught off guard by Cheng Ye’s curt dismissal, he was completely thrown off.

Song Jian’an couldn’t swallow the insult. Inwardly, he vowed he would surpass Cheng Ye’s grades and slap him in the face with it.

A year and a half passed.
He was still second place.

With old grudges piled on top of new, it was no wonder Song Jian’an disliked Cheng Ye so much.

Knowing the truth, Jiang Shi: “…”

He couldn’t imagine the honest-looking Cheng Ye saying “Get lost.”

Jiang Shi: [Couldn’t this all be a misunderstanding? Cheng Ye doesn’t seem like the person you’re describing]

Song Jian’an: [What do you know?!]

Song Jian’an: [You’ve only known him a few days, and you’re already defending him? He clearly can’t stand me and now he’s trying to corrupt you. Don’t be fooled by him.]

Jiang Shi: […]

Song Jian’an: [You shouldn’t hang out with him. He looks down on people just because of his grades. He’s got talent but doesn’t value it, skips class all the time, plays hooky. He’s basically a leech on society.]

But Jiang Shi thought back to that house, almost stripped bare, with the red paint on the door like congealed bloodstains that no rain could wash away.

That so-called wayward boy, silent and expressionless, had stood in the ruins tidying up, as if he’d been through such things many times before.

Jiang Shi rolled over, staring at the glowing phone screen.

Jiang Shi: [He’s really good at studying?]

On this point, even Song Jian’an had to admit—

Song Jian’an: [Not bad. Better than me.]

For mountain children, poverty was a given. The only way out was through studying.

And now, even with a father wasted by alcohol and gambling—though his rotting body was already in the ground—he could still ruin his son’s future.

---

The next day was the start of the new school term. Early in the morning, Jiang Xue woke Jiang Shi.

Jiang Shi leaned against the doorframe watching Jiang Xue pack his luggage, yawning lazily. On his phone, the chat still displayed Song Jian’an’s rant about Cheng Ye. Looking at Song Jian’an’s avatar, with the bold word “Strive” written across it, Jiang Shi suddenly remembered something he’d forgotten.

“Mom,” he said—by now he was used to calling her that. “Didn’t Song Jian’an give you something to pass on to me?”

Jiang Xue paused mid-brush of her hair. Through the mirror, she glanced at Jiang Shi, slouched against the door, looking as if he could doze off at any second.

“Oh, right. He did give me a box for you. I completely forgot to hand it over.”

Actually, she hadn’t forgotten. But after everything that had happened, she wasn’t sure how Jiang Shi felt about Song Jian’an. She worried it might upset him, so she’d hesitated.

Since Jiang Shi had brought it up himself, Jiang Xue quickly tied up her hair and went to her room.

When she came back, she was holding a small, battered box, its paint mostly peeled off.

“He asked me to give this to you. I don’t know what’s inside, but from how he acted, it must be precious. If you like it, keep it. If not, give it to me—just don’t throw it away. It’s your brother’s after all, I’d feel bad if it got lost.”

Jiang Shi straightened and took the box from her. It was heavier than he expected.

Could it be that Song Jian’an had saved up pocket money all these years and left it for him?

A little excited, he opened the box and looked inside—

Five Years of College Entrance Exams, Three Years of Practice Tests.

Flipping through, it was packed with practice books and test papers, covered in dense notes. The original owner had cherished them. Even though they’d been used countless times, the pages were still neat and flat, carefully pressed into the box, waiting for someone else who would value them just as much.

Jiang Shi: “…”

He snapped the lid shut.

What kind of filthy junk was this?!

Jiang Xue leaned closer for a peek. “What is it?”

After a long pause, Jiang Shi said, “Song Jian’an told me it’s his treasure.”

Clearly, Jiang Shi wasn’t thrilled about such a “treasure.” He was about to hand the box back to Jiang Xue, but hesitated.

Forget it. Since it was given, he might as well keep it.

On the bus to the county, Jiang Shi held the box on his lap. Beside him was the endlessly chatty Gao Xinhe.

“Cousin, what’s in that box?”

Jiang Shi plopped it onto his knees. “Take a look yourself.”

Gao Xinhe opened it, and his mind went blank—just like Jiang Shi’s had. What kind of filthy junk is this?

After rushing through a week’s worth of winter homework, the sight of exam papers made him sick. He closed the lid, expression dead. “This yours?”

“No,” Jiang Shi said. “It’s Song Jian’an’s.”

Gao Xinhe: “…”

Yup, that was so like Song Jian’an.

Gao Xinhe hugged the box for him, sighed as he stared at the passing scenery. “I wonder how Brother Cheng is doing.”

Jiang Shi froze, saying nothing.

Gao Xinhe went on: “He’s not even of age yet, so the mine wasn’t going to take him. But right before New Year, there was a gas leak that killed several workers. People were too scared to go down, so they sent him.”

“He didn’t tell anyone, just up and left. By the time we found out, he was already on the bus. My dad was so furious he nearly whipped me.”

Jiang Shi pressed his lips together. “Going down the mine… is it dangerous?”

“Of course it’s dangerous,” Gao Xinhe replied. “Gas leaks, cave-ins—any of those can kill you. Big companies at least have protections, but those small ones? Sometimes you don’t even get compensation if you die. That’s why miners get paid so much, but my dad still refuses to do it.”

Jiang Shi asked, “Doesn’t Cheng Ye have relatives?”

“Nope. His dad used to be a beggar. Folks here pitied him, so they helped him build a house and gave him land so he could settle down. His mom? Her whole family was dead, so his dad gave her 200 yuan and that was their marriage.”

Jiang Shi hadn’t expected such a tragic background. Quietly, he said: “You treat him so well, I thought you two were relatives.”

“How could we be…” Gao Xinhe said. “When Cheng Ye’s dad first arrived, he acted all proper. But once he got the land, his true nature showed, and no one liked him. Because of his dad, people avoided Cheng Ye too. Plus, he never talked much.”

“I got close to him because once, when we were kids, I almost drowned while playing outside. He saved me.”

“He doesn’t talk a lot, but he’s loyal. I was timid and often bullied, and he always protected me.”

Jiang Shi never imagined someone could live through so much hardship.

Those two bags of milk candies lay tucked in his suitcase, carried across winding mountains to the county. And the one who had bought them was now deep underground, in a dark mine, choking on dust whenever he looked up.

---

Although the school was called “First High School,” it wasn’t particularly good. Most of the students were from farming families, with poor grades, no skills, no talents. If they couldn’t get into college, they’d just go work.

Both Song Jian’an and Cheng Ye had chosen this school mainly because top students here didn’t have to pay tuition.

When Jiang Shi transferred in, Jiang Xue wanted him to go to a better school, but he refused.

The school was tiny compared to his old one. Standing at the gate, he could see the entire campus at a glance.

After showing them around, Gao Xinhe went to his own class, while Jiang Xue took Jiang Shi to meet his homeroom teacher.

She was a woman in her thirties, short and a bit chubby, with a kind face.

“My name is Chen Yi, but you can just call me Teacher Chen.” She looked up at Jiang Shi. “You must be Jiang Shi?”

The boy standing at her desk nodded.

Chen Yi smiled. “From now on, you’ll be in Class Three. I’m your homeroom teacher. If you have questions, you can come to me. We don’t have classes today, so let your mom help you settle in at the dorms. Tomorrow morning, come to my office and I’ll take you to class.”

Since Jiang Shi had allergies to the bedding at home, Jiang Xue bought him new ones, along with some clothes.

By the time everything was ready, it was 3:30 in the afternoon. The last bus back to Xiliu Village was at four. Jiang Xue hurriedly shoved a hundred yuan into his hand.

“Keep this for yourself. On weekends, you can find Gao Xinhe and go home with him. The bus stop is the same place where we got off today.”

She reminded him: “I don’t have a phone. If anything comes up, call Xinhe’s father. Tell me if something happens—don’t keep it to yourself.”

Jiang Shi stood at the dormitory door, watching her leave.

Students in black-and-white uniforms bustled around him. He wore the same down jacket he’d first brought to the village, his eyes reflecting the school’s worn-out gate.

It felt like he was the only one left.

He entered the dorm just as the bell rang.

Since he’d transferred halfway through the semester, his dorm room was on the third floor, the last one. It was an eight-person room, but only five students lived there.

When he walked in, his roommates were whispering. They all fell silent when they saw the delicate-looking boy at the door.

Jiang Shi didn’t notice the odd atmosphere. Even if he had, he wouldn’t have cared.

He didn’t feel any need to get close to his roommates. Under their stares, he walked to his bed.

So…

How did one put on a duvet cover?

The young master tentatively tugged at the corner of the quilt, then looked at the unopened bedding set beside him.

“…”

Troublesome.

Three minutes later, one of the boys across from him spoke up softly: “Need help?”

Jiang Shi loosened his grip on the quilt slightly, though his face remained cold. “Can you?”

When he didn’t smile, his expression looked distant, his features noble, even the strands of his hair refined and out of place in this shabby dorm.

Like the moon falling from the sky—still radiant, still dazzling, still untouchable.

No one dared approach the moon.
Until they discovered—the moon couldn’t put on a duvet cover.

Jiang Shi wasn’t sure how it happened, but when he came back to himself, his four roommates were all helping him make his bed.

He was sitting on the bed opposite, peeling an orange.

At that moment, his phone chimed.

He opened it and saw a single line:

[This is Cheng Ye.]

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