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墨書 Inktalez
"Idiot, holding hands cannot be taken lightly; it must be as formal as a wedding ceremony. Otherwise, why is there 'Holding Hands' and 'Growing Old Together'? So this time doesn't count; next time, holding hands must be as formal as a proposal."
After saying this, Hu Jiao'er laughed and ran away, her crisp laughter filling the campus.
Zhou Xiaochuan stood in the middle of the road, watching Hu Jiao'er sprinting ahead, shaking his head with a smile.
"There are still girls like this in the world, who treat holding hands as formally as a proposal."
He took out a book from his backpack, opened a page, gently lifted the yellow ribbon tucked inside, and held it up to his eyes. In the glow of the setting sun, it shone brightly.
Zhou Xiaochuan squinted and smiled, carefully putting the ribbon away.
"So what happened next? Did they hold hands?" Qinglan eagerly wanted to hear about Hu Jiao'er and Zhou Xiaochuan's story next, tugging at Shen Xiaomeng and Liuying without letting go.
"Did they hold hands? You should ask Jiao'er about that. Why are you asking me?" Liuying said with a charming smile and a teasing tone, raising her always proud eyebrows.
Shen Xiaomeng burst into laughter.
"Did they hold hands?" Qinglan turned back to ask Jiao'er again.
"Did we hold hands? Why should I tell you?" Hu Jiao'er replied in exactly the same tone and manner as Qinglan.
"The point isn't whether they held hands or not; they've already started dating, so of course they must have held hands. The key is that romantic and beautiful confession while holding hands hasn't been made yet," Jiang Liuying said.
"Oh, right." Qinglan began urging Shen Xiaomeng to continue with the story.
The next part of the story took place the night before Qinglan returned to school.
That night was supposed to be a class meeting with the theme "Engaging in Criticism and Self-Criticism Activities." It was aimed at new students reflecting on their university life and studies over the past semester and the first two months of this semester. Based on mutual understanding among classmates, each student was required to offer one or two suggestions for a fellow student and provide some self-criticism.
This is a traditional ideological education activity mandated by the school's student affairs office for new students every year. During this activity, both the class teacher and counselor must participate to listen to students' voices and suggestions while providing proper guidance.
"That day, everyone was very enthusiastic," Shen Xiaomeng said. "Moreover, that day, the counselor specifically praised our class. It's rare that our class only had self-criticism without any criticism among classmates; everyone encouraged each other and suggested things to learn from certain classmates. The counselor said that in other classes, students pointed out each other's flaws, leading to mutual accusations. Only our class had such a friendly atmosphere."
"Oh, that's really nice," Qinglan murmured softly.
This was the class collective that Qinglan had always dreamed of as the class representative, a united and loving family-like group. The boys from such a class would be gentlemen, and the girls would be ladies and talented individuals.
"Yes, indeed."
Shen Xiaomeng spoke in an emotional tone. Jiang Liuying, who already knew the outcome of the situation, did not sit aside playing on the computer as she usually did. Instead, she sat next to Qinglan, resting her head on Qinglan's shoulder and wrapping her arm around Qinglan's, quietly listening with a somewhat moved expression.
Hu Jiao'er also sat on the bed quietly listening. She seemed to have forgotten that the main point was about her story.
"Qinglan, that day the number of classmates who said they wanted to learn from you was the highest. It's a pity you weren't there; otherwise, you would have been deeply touched. You would have had a romantic and beautiful love confession like Jiao'er’s."
"What? Talking about Hu Jiao'er’s confession, how did it come back to me? Mengmeng is indeed a person with divergent thinking," Qinglan teased.
"It’s true," Shen Xiaomeng said seriously, without a smile. "That day Xu Wen praised you in front of all the classmates and teachers. It was so sincere and moving."
In Shen Xiaomeng's eyes, there was not only envy but also genuine pride.
"However, while Xu Wen was pleased, there was someone else who wasn't," Liuying said, leaning on Qinglan with an elusive smile on her face, her tone somewhat sarcastic.
"Who? I didn't notice anyone," Shen Xiaomeng said, dropping her previous cute expression.
"The boss should know in her heart," Liuying continued her usual teasing style.
Shen Xiaomeng immediately turned her gaze to Qinglan's face.
At this moment, Hu Jiao'er, leaning against the bed, took out her earplugs and straightened up, casually interjecting, "If I’m not mistaken, it should be our class leader!"
"An Shaojie!" Shen Xiaomeng exclaimed.
"No wonder I felt something was off with his mood; he had been sulking. When he came up to speak, he said he wanted to learn from everyone and then listed a bunch of his shortcomings. At that moment, it felt so sincere and moving. Looking back now, it probably had some elements of sulking too, right? Liuying?" Shen Xiaomeng asked Liuying.
Liuying smiled but did not answer.
"There’s no element of sulking in this. You’re the only one who thinks that way. The class monitor said we should learn from everyone, and that must be sincere," Qinglan said seriously.
"And you too," Qinglan turned to Hu Jiao'er and asked, "Aren't you wearing headphones? How did you hear our conversation?"
"I am wearing headphones, but my player isn’t on, so how could I not hear you talking?" Hu Jiao'er replied with a dismissive expression.
Jiang Liuying listened to their conversation and secretly enjoyed it from the side.
"You’re not even here, how do you know so clearly? It’s as if you heard everything and saw it all," Shen Xiaomeng said, still thinking about Qinglan's words, playfully blinking at her with curiosity.
Indeed, Qinglan was not present; how could she know what happened at that moment?
However, even if she wasn’t there, she could accurately imagine what he said, the tone of his voice, his intonation and mood, and even his gaze. It was as if he were standing right beside her speaking.
She was so familiar with him, as if he were a part of her own body. She understood him as well as she understood herself.
Why would she need to be present?
And then there was Xu Wen, that handsome boy with a warmth like winter sunshine. She understood him too; she could imagine what he said, the tone he used, and the emotions he conveyed.
Yes, if she had been there at that moment, she would have been moved by him; she would have cried, tears streaming down her face. But she was also relieved that she wasn’t there. It was such a good arrangement from God; she couldn’t face both of them at the same time. One would lead her to gentle downfall while the other would plunge her into painful despair.
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