Chapter 25: A Shared Solitude

“So then I, I asked the girl why she wouldn’t forgive her boyfriend even after all that. She said, ‘Because he never tries to soothe me. He’s more interested in proving he’s right than caring about how I feel, so of course I’m angry.’ And that’s how they’ve been fighting up till now. I know both of them, see? Her boyfriend is the type who’s really smart with his studies but also very stiff. His handwriting on his homework is neat, the layout is perfect, and he’s even meticulous about his punctuation. He’s just that kind of person, you know? He doesn’t know how to say sweet things to coax his girlfriend. And the girl, she’s the type who likes to have fun and started hanging out with her friends every day in high school. Because her grades were getting worse, the teacher had someone tutor her, and that person is her current boyfriend. She’s settled down a lot since they started dating, but she’s still quite sensitive. To put it bluntly, she’s overly dramatic. So, when those two are together, they’re often on different wavelengths. Even though they really like each other, they just can’t seem to understand the other’s meaning or attitude, so they’re always getting into fights. I have to run back and forth between them, ah, telling them this and that, trying to guide them through it. I appeal to their emotions, reason with them, and explain their personalities and thoughts to each other so they can be more considerate and understanding. But they’re still like this. There was another time, when we were getting bubble tea…”

Yu Tianman hadn’t stopped talking since she started on this topic. She even continued on while grading a stack of homework on her desk. Honestly, what she was saying was quite dull. I had no interest in the love story of the two people she was describing, but seeing how excited she was, I pretended to listen.

But since she was grading papers and never looked up, I started playing a mobile game halfway through her story—the same one Huang Zhouyu had pestered me to play, BA. I was originally planning to uninstall it, but he forced me to play again. Tianman droned on about a boring topic while I played a boring game.

Today, the slogans from the sports field were silent. A light rain had begun to fall, and the paths were dotted with pedestrians, some holding umbrellas and others who felt it wasn’t necessary.

I didn’t know if Dorothy and Mei Ruolan were coming today or not. Time trickled by, meaningless and unproductive, as I squandered the hours away. Fortunately, I had already conquered this kind of boredom and decay; I could waste time with a clear conscience.

“…After the girl finished yelling, the boy couldn’t take it anymore and said, ‘If you really hate me this much, let’s just break up.’ The moment he said it, the girl started to cry, and soon she was bawling, wailing right there on the street.” Tianman mimicked the girl’s tearful voice, “‘I… I never said anything about breaking up… boo hoo hoo, you don’t understand me at all, and you say such things to make me angry. I hate you, I hate you.'” She switched back to her normal tone. “And then the boy’s heart softened. He pulled her into his arms, stroking her head and patting her back, saying, ‘Don’t cry, don’t cry.’ It was a bit cheesy, but still very gentle. My other friend and I knew our cue and discreetly walked away to avoid being third wheels. That night, I thought, ‘Ah, after this incident, they’ll definitely have a good talk and understand each other better.’ But the very next day in class, they were fighting again over something trivial!”

How much longer could this topic possibly go on? Could two people really have this much friction in a relationship? Yu Tianman chattered on endlessly. My game’s stamina was depleted, leaving me with nothing to do. It felt a bit rude to just let her talk to herself this whole time, so I figured I should say something.

But I didn’t know what to say. I had zero interest in those two’s relationship drama. What do other people do in this situation? How does one even construct a conversation with someone?

The door was pushed open.

“I could hear you chattering away from all the way down the hall, Yu Tianman.” A girl who looked like a red furball entered the club room. “What’s got you so excited?”

“I was talking about Cheng Peng and Xiao Yue.”

“Ah, that pair of idiotic lovers,” Dorothy said with a sneer. “They can’t bear to break up but don’t dare to take the next step, so they’ve grown accustomed to a life of bickering. They’d probably be happy if it stayed that way forever. Don’t they know what happens when you always maintain a safe distance and refuse to take any risks?”

“There you go again, sharply criticizing others as if you’re some kind of love expert.”

“I don’t understand love,” she said, sitting down and taking out the book she planned to read today. “But I understand people.”

Dorothy was incredibly perceptive. Though she often came off as harsh and disdainful of her surroundings, I suspected that wasn’t the whole story. Perhaps we were a bit alike, trying to position ourselves as outsiders, silently observing others and forming our own judgments in our minds.

She possessed a cold, aloof confidence that I lacked—a confidence in her own thoughts, definitions, and judgments. It must have been forged through countless unseen rational thoughts, observations, and studies, honing her ability to read people.

“Yi Chang,” Dorothy called my name.

I looked at her, our eyes meeting as I waited for her to speak. For some reason, the moment our gazes connected, her usual fiery demeanor vanished, replaced by a more complex emotion that was somewhat unsettling.

“Never mind,” she said, lowering her head to her book.

Yu Tianman shot me a strange look, as if asking, ‘What’s wrong with her?’ But how would I know what was wrong with her?

The door was pushed open again.

“Yo, miss me these past few days?” A tall girl with a high ponytail entered the club room, carrying a bag.

“Oh my gosh, I’ve missed you to death, Xiao Mei!” Tianman stood up and gave her a loving hug. Mei Ruolan looked a bit overwhelmed by the affection.

“You didn’t have to help out today?” Tianman asked. “I thought the girls’ basketball team couldn’t bear to let you go.”

“The boys’ team is helping them practice today, so I get a little break.”

“Honestly, when does this tournament even start?” Tianman grumbled, returning to her seat with a pout.

“It ends this week,” she said. “I’ll need a good rest after that.”

Mei Ruolan passed behind me, then took a cup of bubble tea from her bag and placed it by my hand. “A thank-you for lunch,” she whispered before returning to her own seat and taking out her own drink.

“Where’s mine?” Tianman asked.

“You didn’t ask me to buy you one.”

“You could have asked when you went to buy them. Why’d you only get one for yourself and Yi Chang…”

Yu Tianman abruptly fell silent, like a raindrop sliding down a windowpane that suddenly freezes in place before plummeting to the bottom.

“When did you two get so close?” Yu Tianman’s voice was flat, devoid of its usual energy. Her words had become a cold interrogation.

The atmosphere shifted. Even Dorothy subtly raised her eyes to observe the situation.

“We’re classmates. We see each other at school sometimes. You chat a few times and you get closer, right?” Mei Ruolan, however, remained perfectly at ease.

“Speaking of which,” Yu Tianman turned her icy gaze to Dorothy, “it seemed like Dot was about to say something to Yi Chang just now, too. And her attitude was different from before.”

“Tsk,” Dorothy wore an expression of annoyance. “It’s just that he gave me a book, right? It’s normal to be a little nicer to someone after that.”

Tianman was clearly not convinced by this excuse. Her frigid stare was so piercing that even Dorothy couldn’t help but look away.

“Honestly,” Yu Tianman closed her eyes and let out a long sigh. “Getting close to Yi Chang behind my back. I was his first friend, you know. There’s a first-come, first-served rule for this kind of thing.”

Mei Ruolan simply smiled without a word, while Dorothy looked unconcerned.

After that, the atmosphere relaxed and returned to its usual rhythm. I listened as the three of them chatted about their daily lives. Dorothy complained about her housekeeper organizing her personal belongings to who-knows-where; Mei Ruolan griped about the attitudes of the student council members and the antics of mischievous students from various classes. With the other two here, Yu Tianman was much quieter, perhaps tired from all her earlier talking. She just listened, occasionally frowning as she replied to messages on her phone, a look she quickly masked.

And so, another day of club activities came to an end.

****

The rain was still falling, a persistent drizzle that was just enough to leave water spots on your clothes. But when rain falls long enough, it can soak the earth, and people are no exception. Walking home in this weather didn’t seem right, so I opted for the bus.

None of the four of us had an umbrella. The moment presented an opportunity for some; a group of Mei Ruolan’s fangirls rushed to her side, vying to hold their umbrellas over her. They crowded around her, their colorful umbrellas pressing together like a blooming flower—or perhaps a Spartan shield formation.

Some of the boys who liked Yu Tianman were also waiting in the wings, hoping she’d show a hint of distress so they could make a dashing entrance. But it seemed her family had a private car pick her up, dashing their hopes.

That left just me and Dorothy. I was taking the bus home, and so was she.

Once again, the two of us sat in the bus shelter, waiting. We had both gotten a little wet on the way, and Dorothy’s fluffy red hair had been dampened, making it shrink a little.

I glanced at the electronic sign. Dorothy’s bus, the number six, was only a few stops away. This area was remote with few people and light traffic, so it never got congested. It would arrive in just a few minutes.

With the sky overcast, Dorothy didn’t take out her book, afraid it would get wet. We sat there in silence. There was no one on the road, so we watched the rain fall and the cars drive into the distance. Everything was gray, as if night had arrived early, but looking up, you could still see sunlight filtering through the clouds. Raindrops pattered on the leaves of the trees, and a gentle breeze rustled them, creating a soft, whispering sound.

It was almost pleasant.

Thinking back, it seemed I hadn’t said a word since a while ago. Sometimes I didn’t know what to say; other times, I’d missed the chance.

“You don’t have a private car to pick you up?” I asked.

“Do you think all rich kids are that high-maintenance?”

“Just asking.”

Dorothy’s words always had an edge to them, likely a warning for people not to bother her. In that case, I should take the hint and just stay quiet.

And so the rain fell, drop by drop, and the cars passed, one by one. It felt like a long time had passed, but a look at the sign showed only a minute had gone by.

“Um…” Dorothy glanced at me from the corner of her eye. “About last night…” she began, “I’m sorry. I heard some things about your past. Even though it was your sister who just told me without asking, it’s still… how should I put it…”

“There’s nothing to apologize for.”

“It doesn’t bother you? Having people dig into your past, learning a side of you that others don’t know, and all that.”

I didn’t know what Dorothy had heard from my sister, or if it had changed her opinion of me.

“I live in the present,” I said. “The past is irrelevant to me.”

Dorothy let out a small laugh. “Trying to act cool, are we?”

The air was humid, and the surroundings were quiet. It felt like the perfect setting for a heart-to-heart. Chatting with the classmate beside me about the universe and the sky seemed like a good idea right now.

“Were you always like this?” she suddenly asked.

“Like what?”

“Always so quiet.”

“Aren’t you the same?”

“Me?” A sneer returned to her face as she spoke, her words cold, though this time they were directed at herself. “It’s just that when I talk to people, I come up with several possible responses and then overthink which one would be the least hurtful. By the time I’ve figured it out, the moment to reply has already passed.”

She shuddered with silent laughter, amused by her own words.

In that moment, Dorothy was shrouded in a kind of loneliness—a loneliness few knew, one that I recognized intimately. It appears when you approach a crowd, and it appears when you distance yourself from one. The louder and more boisterous the world becomes, the more alone we feel.

“Actually, I heard about you a long time ago,” she said. “It was that bullying incident during the first week of school. It was a hot topic for a while. Though Tianman’s antics quickly overshadowed it.”

The wind grew colder, and it found its voice, a sound like weeping or whispering. We admired the rainy scenery, though I didn’t know if we were seeing the same scene.

“I actually admired you back then,” she said. “You were so decisive. You made the right choice without any hesitation about the class and the group it represented. ‘That guy must be even more boring than me,’ I thought at the time… I guess I related to it a little.”

“I want to be like you, too,” she continued. “To be able to cut ties with people in exchange for peace of mind, to embrace solitude with such ease. But I couldn’t do it. I crave the warmth of others, just like the idiots I mock, too afraid to move forward or backward.”

“But in the end, you’re the same,” she lamented with a sad sigh. “In the end, you also yearn for the crowd…” Then she looked at me with a sense of release. “I know, really. No one in this world can completely shed their social nature and live in noble isolation. It was just my own wishful thinking.”

A storm churned within me. The vulnerability of the girl before me had plucked a string deep inside that had long since snapped. It was broken, after all. Even if it could make a sound, it would only be a sorrowful cry.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because,” she said with a smile, “it’s only fair. Since I learned something about you, I should offer something in return.”

A hiss of air brakes shattered the quiet atmosphere. A bus stood before us. Time had slipped away, and unnoticed, Dorothy’s moment of departure had arrived.

People often compare time to the tide, bringing everything and taking everything away. The metaphor felt particularly apt right now. But I gladly accepted it. Enjoying the remaining silence by myself wouldn’t be a problem.

The bus paused briefly before its doors closed, and then it sped off toward the next stop, departing without a backward glance.

But Dorothy was still here. She was still sitting next to me.

“Let’s talk a little longer,” she said. “Your bus can get me home, anyway.”