During the lunch break, the classroom was silent. Song Siqi lay on the desk and fell asleep with her arms pillowed on her head.
Meng Yao placed the draft paper on the table, held a black ink pen in his right hand, held his face in his palm, and looked out the window at the tiny gleaming light of the beech tree in the sunlight.
She originally wanted to use her time at noon to think about the task assigned to her by Shen Heyi, but she couldn't help but stare blankly out the window when she picked up the pen.
It was hot and sleepy at noon in summer, and the fan was whirring, but Meng Yao didn't feel sleepy at all.
For a long time, she forced herself to withdraw her eyes from the window and return her attention to the brand new draft paper in front of her.
The essay competition organized by the school is a topic essay. Next month is the 69th anniversary of the founding of the motherland. This essay competition is based on this theme.
Meng Yao had a general direction in his mind, and he even thought about the topic about the feelings of family and country.
As soon as I started writing, I unconsciously wrote the word "Xu" on the draft paper.
After I finished writing, I realized what I had done and was stunned by that word.
The ice cream I ate before lunch seemed to still have an aftertaste. It was rum flavored, with a slight aroma of wine and a hint of sweetness.
The situation is not right at the moment.
Meng Yao knew that he could not calm down to write an article for the time being, so he breathed out softly, looked at the newly written words on the draft paper, and after hesitating, he took the pen and added "Yao" after the word "Xu".
The words "Xu Yao" floated neatly on the white paper, finally pleasing to the eye.
Meng Yao lay down on the table, resting his chin on his forearm, and read these two simple words back and forth several times.
Probably because she had practiced it secretly many times, she wrote these two words particularly beautifully.
This piece of draft paper was destined to be discarded. In line with the concept of frugality and making the best use of everything, Meng Yao used a pen to sketch a character sketch in the blank space.
On the white paper, the boy was in a bent posture, holding out a plaid umbrella with his slender hand, his eyes slightly lowered.
Meng Yao recalled that maybe it was because of the rainy night or the dim street light behind him that reflected his eyes, which were focused and warm.
Meng Yao had studied painting for a few years when her studies were easy, but she didn't have any high achievements. However, the teacher commented that she was extremely talented and she could pursue further studies in this area if conditions allowed.
At that time, Song Lan only planned to cultivate painting as a hobby for her and find something for her to do on the weekends. However, when faced with study and interest, she did not allow Meng Yao to lean toward her interest, thus affecting her study.
Later, the interest class in painting stopped, but Meng Yao did not give up completely. Occasionally, he would still practice in his room when he had free time to solidify his foundation and maintain his feel.
Because of this, she still retains some painting skills, and the people or objects she depicts on paper are all vivid.
Lunch break is fleeting.
Song Siqi was awakened by the ringing of the bell. She pillowed her head on her hand and opened her eyes, looking at Meng Yao beside her. She lowered her head to arrange the books, and the sunlight outside the window shone on her, making her whole body warm. Song Siqi murmured sleepily: "Meng Yao, are you not sleeping?"
"Well, I'm not sleepy."
Meng Yao had already torn the sketch paper out of the draft book in advance. She was reluctant to tear it up and put it into a book that was not commonly used.
She was a little thirsty, so she took the water glass on the table and planned to go to the back of the classroom to get some water. When she walked out of her seat, she asked Song Siqi if she needed it.
Song Siqi closed her eyes again, as if she was going to fall asleep again in the next second, and shook her head.
The essay competition only lasts for one week, and the top three must be selected before the National Day holiday and posted on the school's information wall.
Meng Yao wasted a lunch break, and he couldn't be careless about other courses. He had other arrangements for evening self-study and within an hour after school, so the time to write articles in a down-to-earth manner was actually a bit tight.
Writing this kind of article inevitably involves mentioning history. Meng Yao thought about it and planned to take time to go to the library.
*
Feng Han's evening self-study time usually ends at 9:30 in the evening. Occasionally, it will be delayed for more than ten minutes when the teacher gives a lecture. Meng Yao's family lives not far away, and he has been a day student since he was in high school.
But it was almost ten o'clock when she got home every day.
The nights will be cooler at this time.
Meng Yao carried his schoolbag and walked slowly on the sidewalk.
This road was surrounded by lush trees and there were many mosquitoes. Meng Yao was a mosquito sucker, so he got several big bites on his arms.
She felt itchy and scratched several times. Her arms were red from being scratched, but she still did not speed up her pace.
Meng Yao didn't bring his mobile phone, but he walked a lot on the way home and could control the approximate time based on his speed.
She walked into the community and looked up at the fifth floor from the downstairs of the unit.
There was no light in the kitchen, but there was a glimmer of light coming from the living room.
She reached out and opened the door of the unit building, and the sensor light came on, illuminating the old and cramped corridor.
Meng Yao stepped on the first step, and in his peripheral vision, he could see the densely packed small advertising papers on the mottled walls.
Those who open locks, provide access to toilets, install broadband... everything is available.
Meng Yao has been familiar with it since he moved here for more than a year.
When she climbed up to the fifth floor, the light in the living room leaked through the crack in the door. She lowered her head and looked at her feet for a while, then took out the key from her bag and opened the door.
Song Lan was sitting on the sofa, holding her cell phone and applying a facial mask. When she saw her coming back, she subconsciously glanced at the time before turning to look at her. Because he had a mask on his face, he spoke in a very small voice, like a squeezed voice: "There is soup left for you in the kitchen."
Meng Yao lowered his head to change his shoes, untied the shoelaces for a moment, and without looking back, whispered: "I'm not hungry."
"The soup won't occupy your stomach." Song Lan said, "Go wash your hands and go to the kitchen to fill a bowl yourself."
Meng Yao changed into his slippers and stared at the patterns on the shoes for a few seconds before briefly responding.
She took off her schoolbag and put it in the living room, then went to the kitchen to wash her hands. While taking the bowl, she raised her voice and asked Song Lan, who was just a wall away, if she wanted to drink. Song Lan replied: "You can eat yours."
Meng Yao said nothing and only filled himself half a bowl of chicken soup.
Song Lan's cooking skills were actually very good, and the chicken soup was very rich. Meng Yao drank half a bowl in the kitchen, washed the bowl, and then walked to the living room. When he picked up his schoolbag, he said hello to Song Lan: "I'm going back to my room to do my homework."
Song Lan sat on the sofa and said "hmm".
Just as Meng Yao's hand grasped the door handle of the bedroom, Song Lan thought of something again and said behind her: "Oh, by the way, your dad called before you came back. Then he hung up because he had something to do and said he would wait for you after school tomorrow. I’ll let you call me again.”
Meng Yao's father has been working out of town. Although he called back every now and then, Meng Yao still missed him. She turned to Song Lan and nodded, saying, "Okay."
Meng Yao returned to the room and locked the door behind him when closing the door.
She couldn't remember the specific incident, but her relationship with Song Lan had never been close.
I was a little scared before, but later I stopped talking and simply stopped getting closer.
Meng Yao sat at the desk and unzipped her schoolbag. She was not in a hurry to do her homework, so she first took out the piece of paper she had sketched at noon today.
She read it again before carefully putting the piece of paper into the drawer on the right and locking it.
It was already eleven o'clock when Meng Yao finished her homework. She went to the bathroom to take a shower. The lights in the living room had already been turned off. Song Lan had to go to work tomorrow, so she went back to her bedroom to rest.
The house was quiet.
Meng Yao wore loose cotton pajamas and walked to the balcony to enjoy the evening breeze.
There are almost no stars visible in the city.
Meng Yao rested his hands on the guardrail of the balcony and looked up at the unreachable crescent moon in the night sky.
Suddenly, she thought, it would be nice if she could stand higher and be closer to the moon.
The scene of Xu Yao standing in front of her at the canteen during the day, handing her an ice cream, replayed in her mind like a movie.
For a moment, their eyes met.
Meng Yao's ears still feel hot when he thinks of that scene.
But she also clearly realized from Xu Yao's open eyes that he did not remember her.
This fact woke her up like a sudden gust of cold wind.
No matter how bright and beautiful the moon is, she can only look up at it but cannot reach out to pick it up.
*
The next day, after Meng Yao finished his recess exercises, he walked across the playground to the school library while still having some time.
The library is in another building. If students need to borrow books, they must register with their campus card. Meng Yao was afraid of being late, so she didn't let Song Siqi accompany her.
With the help of the administrator, she found relevant history books and registered. She looked up at the clock in the library and saw that class was only a few minutes away, so she hurried to the teaching building.
After the recess exercises, the crowd on the playground dispersed. Meng Yao passed by the playground on his way out of the library and back to the teaching building, but a very small number of people remained there.
Several boys held basketballs in their hands. Meng Yao accidentally glanced and found Xu Yao among the group.
She paused subconsciously.
Xu Yao and Zheng Hua were together. A boy threw a ball in their direction, and Xu Yao caught it steadily.
The boy who was throwing the ball whistled and raised his voice to Xu Yao: "We're going to have another one later after the physical education class is over?"
Xu Yao smiled.
From this angle, Meng Yao could only see his sharp profile. His jawline was very clear, and his Adam's apple seemed to roll when he smiled.
He is as bright as the sun.
Meng Yao heard him respond simply.
Then he raised his hand and threw it, the basketball drew a perfect arc in the air, and finally fell into the basketball hoop in the distance and bounced on the ground.
Maybe it was an illusion, but Meng Yao felt his heart beat loudly along with the basketball.
There were several young boys' hooting sounds coming from the playground.
Zheng Hua smiled and punched Xu Yao on the shoulder with his fist.
Xu Yao also laughed.
Meng Yao was like a voyeur, watching him from a place where he couldn't see.
Perhaps her gaze was too blatant and too hot. Xu Yao seemed to feel something, tilted his head, and looked straight over, catching her easily.
Meng Yao was stunned and even forgot to cover up and avoid.
One second, two seconds, three seconds
Meng Yao had no way of estimating how much time had passed.
She just looked at Xu Yao blankly.
There was still a bright smile in his eyes that hadn't faded.
It's like there are shining stars in the pupils.
