A Walk Through the Alley and Unspoken Intentions

To reach my usual route home from the iron gate, one had to traverse a small alleyway. This particular alley was a labyrinth of twists and turns, and since it was my first time taking this path, Mei Ruolan led the way. Whatever her reasons for guiding me, I found myself following her.

The surroundings were predominantly residential, with the occasional convenience store or barbershop set up on the ground floor. Old couples gathered on wooden benches by their doorsteps, chatting in the local dialect. Having lived elsewhere during my childhood, I struggled to understand the regional accent of my hometown.

Despite its proximity to the school, the alley was far from bustling. Most shops saw little to no patronage, and I had my suspicions why: it was likely due to the pervasive grime and stench. The residential buildings were packed tightly together, allowing barely any sunlight to penetrate, and heaps of trash, discarded by residents too lazy to dispose of them properly, often lined the roadside.

‘Dark and damp’ perfectly encapsulated the atmosphere. Students, unless absolutely necessary, would undoubtedly avoid this route.

“You seem quite familiar with this route,” I observed.

“Hmm? Sort of,” she replied, glancing back at me. “A few friends live here, so I come by occasionally when I visit their homes. After a few times, I pretty much learned the way.”

Her explanation was perfectly reasonable, leaving no room for doubt. Yet, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss. Unfortunately, my instincts were rarely accurate, so I dismissed it.

“Was playing basketball fun?” I asked.

“It was alright. I’m not particularly fond of sports. The main thing is that it helps me build connections with people.”

It was peculiar how people with seemingly nothing in common—whose lives and ways of handling things were worlds apart—could often become close friends through a shared catalyst. Take, for instance, a smooth, socially adept boy in our class and another who was reclusive and gloomy. They had never gotten along, but upon discovering their mutual love for *Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure*, they now clung together, chatting about various anime and games during every break.

“That number seven from earlier, do you remember them?” Ruolan now questioned me.

I shook my head, having paid no attention to the numbers on anyone’s jerseys.

“Let me think,” she mused, trying to describe her. “The one with the bob cut, and freckles on her face.”

“The one who kept wiping her nose with her hand, right?”

“Yes, that’s her,” she confirmed, turning back in surprise. “You actually noticed that detail.”

I shrugged, finding nothing peculiar about it. “So, what about her?”

“That girl has a boyfriend who’s a year younger than her, still in junior high. He’s planning to enroll in our school next semester.” She paused, as if remembering something. “I promised her I’d keep it a secret… but never mind, it should be fine if you know. You don’t really have anyone to tell anyway.”

‘Was she just subtly mocking me?’

“She’s very fond of her boyfriend, but he wasn’t quite as keen on her. They were one of those couples… how should I put it, without a strong emotional foundation. It wasn’t until she joined the basketball club in high school to align with his interests that their relationship truly blossomed. Now their feelings for each other are excellent.”

I understood what Ruolan was trying to convey: some things aren’t our ultimate goals, but rather springboards or tools. Mei Ruolan undoubtedly leveraged her versatile talents to forge good relationships with students from different classes and grades. Yet, I couldn’t fathom the purpose behind such actions, nor whether she found any personal happiness in them.

“So, you see,” Mei Ruolan said, walking ahead of me, “some things aren’t done for happiness. They’re done out of necessity, for something or someone else entirely.”

Mei Ruolan’s perspective on things bore some resemblance to mine, yet it was also vastly different. And that was precisely how it should be; it was good for people to be distinct from one another.

“As for that girl,” I said, recalling the scenes from the court earlier, “I don’t know much about her past, but she definitely loves playing basketball now.”

Mei Ruolan, met with my rebuttal, showed little reaction. She simply turned her head slowly, about to glance at me as she had before, but I didn’t give her the chance. Even I realized it was awkward to speak from behind her, so I walked to her side.

Of course, there was another reason.

We emerged from the alley and returned to the familiar road. At last, we could bask in the sunlight, and finally see each other’s faces clearly.

“Every time that girl scored, she would shout excitedly. When she performed well, she’d beam with pride; when she made a mistake, she’d adjust her mindset and encourage herself. She possessed a genuine confidence in her basketball skills, displaying herself without reservation, seeking recognition from spectators, teammates, opponents, and coaches alike.”

At least by my standards, if one could be so moved by something,

“If it wasn’t for a love of basketball, what other reason could there be to reach such a level? Therefore, even if there were ulterior motives initially, one can still grow to genuinely love it.”

Mei Ruolan remained the same, smiling politely, though her eyes now held a hint of fatigue, a touch of bitterness.

“Is that so? Yes, you’re right,” her voice was no longer lighthearted. “What you said… your perspective is indeed correct.”

Mei Ruolan’s lips began to twitch. After a long day, she must have grown weary from constantly smiling in front of others; the muscles in her face were starting to lose control. Yet, she still tried to maintain her image of excellence, causing her forced smile to completely distort. I couldn’t possibly know what thoughts churned within her, or what emotions and feelings she harbored to display such a tragic expression.

“I’ve thought this before, Yi Chang, you truly have a way with profound statements.”

“Because I often space out.”

“Pondering life?”

“Something like that. With few friends, I’m idle most days, endlessly contemplating the meaning of existence.”

“There are merits to loneliness,” she mused, a look of longing on her face, yet her gaze was fixed elsewhere.

No one can truly know what another person is thinking. Others will always remain others; this fact remains unchanged, regardless of how our relationships or distances evolve. While I recognized this truth, I couldn’t willingly accept it, so I chose not to know.

I wasn’t sure what kind of person Mei Ruolan truly was. Even if I gleaned some understanding of her through certain aspects, this understanding could be flawed, superficial, ultimately confirming that others are merely others. Thus, I chose not to know, to feign ignorance and foolishness, and believe that two hearts could indeed draw close.

We stopped at a traffic light, having walked in silence. When going home with Tianman, I knew we would part ways at the fork in the road. With Ruolan, it was different; I didn’t know the direction of her home. Perhaps we would say goodbye after the traffic light or around the next corner, and I was unsure what topic to introduce that we could finish before our separation.

Given the circumstances, I decided I should ask her where she lived first.

While I contemplated this, it seemed that prolonged silence carried its own penalty. Even as the words formed on my tongue, we happened to encounter a girl wearing a voluminous, flowing dress, similar in style to the Gothic Lolita attire I’d seen before, but with an overly bright and cutesy pink and white color scheme.

“Oh, Sister Lan! What a surprise to run into you here!” The girl exclaimed, both startled and delighted. “Isn’t your house in the opposite direction? Ah! Are you going somewhere fun? Who are you going with? Yuxi? Or Yanling? Why don’t you just come with me? I’m just about to head to…”

The girl actively pressed herself against Mei Ruolan, chattering incessantly, completely oblivious to my presence. She seemed well-acquainted with Ruolan’s social circle, mentioning places she might go and people she might meet, and inadvertently revealing the approximate location of Ruolan’s home to me. Was this what they called a superfan?

“No, just wandering around,” Mei Ruolan replied, deflecting the girl’s questions, while simultaneously giving me a subtle glance. Even without her signal, I had already intended to quietly depart before the girl noticed me, as Ruolan had previously indicated she didn’t want anyone to see us together.

So, the moment the light turned green, I left, leaving Mei Ruolan alone with the girl.

Mei Ruolan’s home was in the opposite direction, so why had she suggested we walk together for a while? I had a hypothesis, but dared not confirm it. If it were true, then I would have, once again, inconvenienced and troubled someone because of myself. Thoughts surged, leaving a sour taste in my mouth.

As I walked, I passed the usual crossroads where Tianman and I parted ways. Mei Ruolan should have already returned home by now, or gone out with that girl. Thus, I didn’t look back. After all, there was nothing left for us to discuss. Perhaps I should even thank that girl; without her, Mei Ruolan might have continued to inconvenience herself by walking with me.

Just as my heart began to feel a little lighter, I realized I was carrying something in my hand… Ah, it was the paper bag I had taken from Mei Ruolan. Inside were her sweat-soaked basketball uniform and towel, along with that cup of milk tea. The muscle memory of carrying things for my mother had led me to unconsciously hold onto it until now.

Things had become complicated.

What was I to do? I could wash the clothes and bring them to her tomorrow, but what about the milk tea? Could it still be drunk after a day? It was, after all, a gesture from someone else.

After a brief deliberation, I decided to turn back. I had no idea if Mei Ruolan had gone elsewhere with the girl, or if she had already hailed a taxi home. If only I had proactively asked for her contact information during our long walk, this trouble could have been avoided. Was this, too, a punishment for my silence?

The reason I wanted to watch Mei Ruolan play basketball was my desire to foster a good relationship with her. However, distrusting words, I hadn’t expressed it directly. I had no inherent interest in basketball; my offer to watch the game was solely for her sake.

What about Mei Ruolan then? Did she want to walk with me for my sake? Did she also wish to build a good relationship? Even if such thoughts crossed my mind, how could I ever confirm them?

I returned to the corner, and with a turn, I found myself face-to-face with Mei Ruolan once more. We stared at each other. Mei Ruolan was panting, clearly having jogged all the way to catch up.

“Ah, Yi Chang,” she panted, speaking between breaths, “I was just wondering how to get to your place from here. I didn’t expect you to turn back.”

“I didn’t expect you to chase after me either,” I said, handing her the paper bag. “Wipe your sweat.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, as if she had only just remembered that item was in my hand.

She took the paper bag and reached inside. What she pulled out wasn’t the towel, but the cup of milk tea, which she then offered to me.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” she said. I wasn’t sure what she was apologizing for. “Consider this milk tea my apology, alright?”

“Using something someone else gave you as an apology?”

She let out a laugh. “After something sweet, I lose my appetite for food. But I still have to go home for dinner later. Rather than letting it go to waste with me, you might as well drink it.”

I didn’t believe she needed to apologize, but her reasoning was sound, so I accepted the milk tea.

“How much further is it to your house?” she asked.

“About a quarter of the way, why?”

“Since I’ve come this far, let me learn the way to your place.”

Did she mean she wanted to continue walking together? Without much thought, and having no reason to refuse, I nodded in agreement.

Mei Ruolan and I were quite similar, yet fundamentally different. Projecting my own thoughts onto her to guess hers would undoubtedly be wrong, but regrettably, it was the only way I knew how.

“That girl earlier…” Mei Ruolan began, initiating a conversation on the way. “While she seemed a bit eccentric, she’s usually a very kind person in class, and quite cute too.”

“Are you in the same class?”

“Both she and Dorothy are in Class D.”

“Class D?” I recalled Huang Zhouyu mentioning to me, “It seems to have a lot of girls.”

“Indeed, it’s a three-to-seven split between boys and girls.” Mei Ruolan offered a charming smile. “But all the boys I know are more envious of your Class E.”

“Our class? Why is that?”

“Because the average attractiveness of girls in your class is the highest.”

“What do you mean by ‘average’?”

“It means the girls in your class are generally very good-looking,” Mei Ruolan explained, gazing at me as if I were some peculiar creature. “You truly have no grasp of these things. How do you even get by in class?”

“Isn’t class just for listening to lectures? Not knowing these things doesn’t affect anything.”

“That’s true. I truly envy your way of life,” she remarked with a sigh.

I yearned to understand Mei Ruolan, through spoken words and observing her gaze. We couldn’t truly enter another’s heart, yet we could certainly gain something from the attempt. Others would always remain others, but our lives required their presence.

“That girl,” I said, “the clothes she was wearing, do you know anything about them?”

“Ah, is it called Lolita?” she mused. “It’s modern clothing that imitates ancient European court dresses, and it has quite a few enthusiasts. All those layers of lace and ruffles, they look really cute when worn.”

I watched the subtle shifts in her expression as she spoke.

“Do you like these kinds of clothes too?”

“They don’t really suit me,” she said with a hint of regret. “These clothes are more fitting for Dorothy and Tianman. For me, sportswear or a neutral style might be better.”

“Ruolan,” I said, “Are you not good at Chinese language?”

“I’m top ten in our grade, why do you ask?”

“Because I explicitly asked if you *liked* it, yet you answered by talking about whether it *suited* you or was *fitting*.” I looked at her. “I don’t believe in things like personality or temperament. Don’t let others’ perceptions restrict you; you can certainly live a freer life.”

Mei Ruolan paused, then burst into hearty laughter. She shook with mirth, her laughter captivating and disorienting.

“Yi Chang, you truly are good at giving profound advice!” She laughed until she was gasping. Was my way of expressing my viewpoint so comical? Still, seeing her laugh like that felt like a success.

“Then I admit I really like such clothes. So what? Do you want to see me wear them?”

“I’ve already bought them for you.”