Chapter 018
Chapter 18
On the way back to the dormitory, it started snowing again.
Shen Zhifei pulled her down jacket tighter, picked up her workbook, quickened her pace, glanced at the time, estimated when Song Lang might arrive home, and then called him right on the appointed hour.
The receiver kept beeping with the system dial tone, but no one answered. Shen Zhifei assumed he was probably still on the road and couldn't answer the phone while riding his bike. Five minutes later, Shen Zhifei dialed again, but got the same result.
His heart clenched, and his mind began to conjure up horrific images, even mixing them with the bloodshed rooted in his childhood memories.
His hands started trembling, and he called the landline at home, but no one answered.
Shen Zhifei panicked even more. He threw the exercise book directly at the entrance of the dormitory building, turned around and ran out of the school, calling Meng Fanxing as he ran.
"Little Fei?" Meng Fanxing answered quickly, surprised that he would call him. He glanced at the name on the screen, then covered the microphone and walked to the side, whispering, "I just wanted to ask you something..."
"Where's Song Lang? Have you seen him?" Shen Zhifei interrupted him, asking the most important question.
Meng Fanxing said, "It's at my house."
Shen Zhifei stopped running. The huge boulder hanging over his chest crashed to the ground, making him lean against the corner of the school gate wall. His legs trembled slightly, and the cold wind seeped in through his trouser legs, chilling him to the bone.
Meng Fanxing continued her question, "What's going on between you two? Dalang was really happy to pick you up today, but he stormed back to my house. Where are you?"
Shen Zhifei buried his head in his knees, closing his eyes. All he could see was the image of Song Lang angrily slamming his fist on the door. From childhood, Song Lang had always spoken softly to him, never uttering a single swear word. But today he had used his fist; he must be very angry. And his hands…
"Do you have iodine at home? Apply some to his hand; it's bleeding." Shen Zhifei's nose tingled as she spoke. "Check carefully for splinters; if it gets too bad, take him to the hospital."
Meng Fanxing looked completely bewildered: "You two got into a fight?"
Shen Zhifei didn't answer: "Go apply the medicine now, and text me when you're done. Thanks."
He didn't give Meng Fanxing a chance to ask further questions and hung up the phone.
Snowflakes crept into his collar and landed on the back of his neck, turning into tiny, cool droplets that quickly calmed him down.
Shen Zhifei sat on the ground for a while, and after composing himself, he turned back towards the dormitory building. However, the tall and upright figure under the streetlights now looked somewhat dejected and lonely, swaying as if he might fall at any moment.
That night, he lay alone in his desolate dormitory, covered with a thick quilt, but still unable to warm himself up.
He didn't feel sleepy until the early hours of the morning, but he still hadn't received any message from Meng Fanxing.
He slept for two hours in a daze, but he kept thinking about Song Lang. He would wake up every now and then to check his phone. Finally, at seven o'clock in the morning, he received a reply.
[Meng Fanxing]: What's wrong with you two? Dalang keeps staring at me and won't let me talk to you. I finally managed to sneak into the bathroom to text you, and for some reason, I feel like I'm some kind of underground party member.
Shen Zhifei quickly replied: The important point.
[Meng Fanxing]: My hand is fine, just cut. No bones are broken and there are no splinters.
Shen Zhifei breathed a sigh of relief.
With another ding, Meng Fanxing's message popped up again.
[Meng Fanxing]: We're brothers, so whatever's wrong, just apologize and make up quickly. It's your brother's birthday the day after tomorrow, so cheer up!
Shen Zhifei gripped her phone tightly, frowning as she began a fierce internal struggle.
On Tuesday, he handed a leave slip to his homeroom teacher, explaining that he had an important family matter to attend to and needed to go home.
He had always performed well, and even his leave slips didn't contain the fancy excuses that other students made up. The homeroom teacher readily signed it, saying, "Just don't miss the final exams, and come back quickly."
After leaving the school, Shen Zhifei didn't go home. He first rode his bike to a nearby shopping mall, and then turned to wait at the entrance of No. 18 Middle School. In the past, Song Lang would always wait for him, but this time it was his turn to wait.
He was a little nervous, afraid that Song Lang was still angry about what happened a few days ago, and also afraid that he would ask why he didn't want to go home. Shen Zhifei never wanted to get to this point of silent confrontation with Song Lang, but he could only remain silent in the face of those questions that puzzled Song Lang.
It was noon, and from afar, the sound of the school bell ringing could be heard.
Students gradually emerged from the school gate, some in small groups heading to nearby restaurants for food. Others rode their bikes home, while the rest stayed at school to eat in the cafeteria before returning to their classrooms to play or take a nap.
Song Lang doesn't go home for lunch.
Taking advantage of the large number of people coming and going at the school gate, Shen Zhifei blended into the crowd and successfully entered the school.
Song Lang was in Class 13 of the first year of high school. When Shen Zhifei found their classroom, both the front and back doors were closed, and the windows on the doors were covered with paper, so he couldn't see inside.
The corridor was noisy. Several girls with gray-purple hair were chatting happily while leaning on the railing. When they saw him coming, they couldn't help but look at him, whispered to each other, and smiled.
One of the girls was quite bold and walked over to Shen Zhifei, patting him on the shoulder. "Excuse me, what class are you in? Can I have your WeChat?"
Shen Zhifei pointed to Class 13 and asked, "Are you in this class?"
“Yes,” the girl’s bright eyes darted around, and she smiled, “You’re not here to find a girlfriend, are you?”
Shen Zhifei shook his head: "I'm looking for Song Lang."
"Oh, he's probably gone to the cafeteria for lunch. Why don't you come chat with us while you wait for him?" The girl extended a warm invitation and walked back to the railing, standing with her companion, looking at him with a bright smile.
Just then, one of her companions said, "Song Lang seems to have just returned; he should be in the classroom right now."
The girl glared at her, and everyone else couldn't help but laugh.
Shen Zhifei said thank you, gently pushed open the front door of the classroom, stood at the door, his eyes searching for the figure he had missed for so long, and then suddenly froze.
In the corner of the last row of the classroom, Song Lang was lying on his desk, his head tilted and his arm as a pillow, kissing a girl.
In that instant, Shen Zhifei felt as if he had fallen into an ice cave.