That Nameless Summer Chapter 5

Dormitory

The evening self-study bell rang with a long, drawn-out tone, piercing the silence of No. 5 High School. Outside the window, the sky had turned pitch black, leaving only the lights of the teaching building shining like a sea of stars suspended in the night, almost blindingly bright.

Ling Qingye packed his schoolbag. When he looked up, he saw Song Li still hunched over his desk, his fingertips tapping rapidly across his phone screen. His brow was slightly furrowed, as if he were chatting with someone.

“Let’s go,” Ling Qingye said, his voice sounding exceptionally clear in the quiet classroom.

Song Li didn’t even look up. “Wait a second, I’m in a ranked match.”

Ling Qingye didn’t push him further and leaned against the desk to wait. The students in the classroom gradually filtered out until only the two of them remained. The ceiling fan spun lazily with a faint hum. The desk lamp was still on, its warm yellow glow falling on Song Li’s profile and outlining his sharp jawline.

Ling Qingye’s gaze lingered on him for a few seconds before shifting away toward the window. The night was thick, and the distant residential buildings were dotted with scattered lights like diamonds strewn across black velvet. He remembered how Song Li had looked at his house the previous night—wearing an ill-fitting sweater with a hint of awkwardness in his eyes, completely different from his usual fearless attitude at school.

He knew about Song Li’s family situation; Xu Jiangyou would mention it occasionally with a tone of pity. Song Li rarely spoke of his own affairs, always acting as if he didn’t care, like a hedgehog raising its quills to wrap itself up tight.

Just like himself.

The moment the phone screen went dark, Song Li finally looked up. He was startled to see Ling Qingye still waiting for him. “Why haven’t you left yet?”

“Waiting for you,” Ling Qingye replied flatly, as if stating the most ordinary thing in the world.

Song Li’s heart inexplicably skipped a beat. He looked away, grabbed his bag, and stood up. “Let’s go, let’s go.”

The two walked out of the classroom side by side. The hallway was empty, and only the sound of their footsteps echoed back and forth in the silence. Song Li walked quickly, as if deliberately avoiding something. Ling Qingye followed beside him with steady steps, occasionally glancing sideways to see the tips of Song Li’s ears turning red.

“Who were you chatting with so seriously just now?” Ling Qingye suddenly asked.

“No one, just a teammate,” Song Li mumbled in response. He pulled out his phone to take a look. On the screen was his chat history with Xu Jiangyou; she said Qin Jiangwen had brought her milk tea again today and asked if she wanted to go see a movie over the weekend.

Song Li gave a scoffing laugh and typed back: “Just say yes already, stop being so indecisive.”

After sending the message, he shoved his phone back into his pocket and turned to Ling Qingye. “What about you? What do you do during evening self-study? Grind practice problems?”

“Yeah,” Ling Qingye nodded. “The monthly exam is next week.”

“Oh,” Song Li acknowledged, saying nothing more. He had no interest in studying; to him, the monthly exam was just a chore to get through. But he knew Ling Qingye was different. He was the top of the grade, the pride of the teachers, and the hope of his parents.

Just as he could never become Ling Qingye, Ling Qingye would never understand his world.

When they reached the entrance of the teaching building, Song Li suddenly stopped and looked at Ling Qingye. “Let me borrow your phone for a second.”

Ling Qingye paused for a moment before taking his phone out of his pocket and handing it over. Song Li took the phone, unlocked the screen, and his fingers moved rapidly. Ling Qingye’s phone was very clean, with no games, only a few study apps and social media platforms.

Song Li found his own WeChat and sent a friend request with the note: “Song Li.”

“If you’re ever short a player for a game, call me.” He handed the phone back to Ling Qingye, his tone casual as if it were an insignificant matter.

Ling Qingye looked at the friend request on his screen. His finger hesitated for a moment before he accepted. “I don’t play games.”

“It’s fine, I’ll carry you to a win,” Song Li smiled, then turned toward the dormitory.

Ling Qingye watched his retreating back. The chat window on his phone still showed “The other party has accepted your friend request.” A strange emotion suddenly welled up in his heart, like a pebble dropped into a lake, sending out ripples.

Inside the dormitory, Liu Qiuhao and Jing Shao were already back. They were huddled together playing games, shouting things like “Go for it!” and “Hurry, use your ultimate!” The atmosphere was very lively.

Song Li walked into the dorm, tossed his bag onto his bed, and collapsed onto the mattress. He pulled out his phone and saw Ling Qingye’s WeChat profile picture—a plain black background without any pattern. It was just like the person himself: cold and distant.

He hesitated for a moment before sending a “?” over.

Not long after, Ling Qingye replied with a “?”.

Looking at the screen, Song Li couldn’t help but smile. He sent another message: “Nothing, just testing it out.”

Ling Qingye didn’t reply again.

Song Li put down his phone and turned to look at Ling Qingye’s bunk. Ling Qingye was sitting at his desk with his computer open, looking at something. The light fell on him, stretching his shadow long and making him look somewhat lonely.

“Ling Qingye,” Song Li suddenly spoke up, “are your parents… good to you?”

Ling Qingye’s movements paused. He turned his head, his gaze falling on Song Li with a hint of surprise. “They’re fine.”

“Oh,” Song Li acknowledged, asking nothing more. He could tell Ling Qingye was lying. There was a trace of imperceptible loneliness hidden in his eyes, like a moon obscured by dark clouds, dim and lusterless.

Just like himself—every time someone asked about his family, he would also say “they’re fine,” even if his heart was already riddled with holes.

Liu Qiuhao and his roommate finished their game. They turned off the computer and prepared for bed. The dormitory instantly became quiet, leaving only the sound of the fan spinning.

Song Li lay on his bed staring at the ceiling, his mind a mess. He remembered when he was a child, his mother taking him and Xu Jiangyou to move house after house, changing schools again and again. He remembered that “father” in name only, who was always indifferent toward him, even carrying a hint of disdain. He remembered Xu Jiangyou crying in secret, saying she missed her dad.

He thought he had already grown used to this kind of life, used to using indifference and rebellion to disguise himself. But ever since meeting Ling Qingye, ever since becoming roommates, and ever since staying over at his house that night, the thick wall in his heart seemed to be developing cracks.

Ling Qingye’s concern, his tolerance, and that extremely faint smile were all like a beam of light, slowly illuminating the darkness in his heart.

Just then, he heard Ling Qingye’s phone chime with a WeChat notification. He instinctively glanced over. The screen lit up, displaying a message from “Dad.”

The message was very short: Come back next week. Let’s talk about your father’s matters.

Ling Qingye’s body stiffened. After a long time, he slowly picked up his phone and replied with a “Okay.”

Watching his back, Song Li suddenly felt a wave of inexplicable heartache. He didn’t know what exactly had happened in Ling Qingye’s family, nor did he know how many secrets were hidden in his heart. He only knew that Ling Qingye was just like him, using indifference as a disguise while enduring an unknown loneliness all alone.

The night grew deeper, and the dormitory was silent. Song Li lay on his bed, listening to Ling Qingye’s steady breathing. A thought suddenly occurred to him.

He thought that perhaps he could try to get closer to Ling Qingye, try to step into his world, and try… to make him not so lonely anymore.

Just as Ling Qingye had slowly stepped into his world.

The moonlight from outside filtered through the gaps in the curtains, shining into the dormitory and falling upon Ling Qingye’s bed.