JFWCM Chapter 1
by VolareFirst Encounter
Love in youth is like the wind, invisible yet palpable, like a name carved on a desk, feared to be seen, yet feared not to be.
As the morning light pierced through the thin mist, Jiang Wan’yuan opened the window, and the sunlight happened to fall on her upturned eyelashes. She squinted subconsciously, but heard her mother’s smiling urging from downstairs: “Wan’yuan, if you don’t leave now, you’ll be late!”
“I know—” she drawled in response, her red pupils surprisingly bright in the mirror. Her mother’s nimble fingers darted through her hair, quickly braiding two bouncing pigtails. The school uniform was black and white, with the Linxi First High School badge pinned on it. Suddenly, the bow at the collar of her uniform felt a little tight. Glancing at the clock, the 7:10 pointer made her jump like a startled rabbit.
With bread still in her mouth, Jiang Wan’yuan rushed out the door. As she rounded the corner, she bumped into something unexpectedly, and strawberry jam bloomed into a glaring red stain on the other person’s snow-white shirt. “I’m sorry! I…” Looking up, she saw eyes darker than the night.
The girl with medium-short hair stood quietly, the hairpin reflecting a cold light. Instead of the expected scolding, the other person simply pressed a tissue against the stain, and the air she stirred as she turned brushed past Jiang Wan’yuan’s flushed cheeks.
“Hey! You…” Before she could finish speaking, the figure had disappeared into the morning mist. Jiang Wan’yuan clenched her backpack strap, her heart beating faster than when she had been running.
In front of the teaching building at 7:19, Jiang Wan’yuan gasped for breath, leaning on her knees. Suddenly, in the gap between the crowds, she saw that figure again. The girl stood alone under the cherry tree, falling petals clinging to her shoulders, like a deliberately blank painting.
“So you’re a freshman too?” Jiang Wan’yuan approached, but the other person’s eyelashes didn’t even flutter. Undeterred, she circled around her: “My name is Jiang Wan’yuan! Do you like sweet or savory tofu pudding? I heard the third class’s homeroom teacher is particularly fierce…”
“Yi Shang.” The girl finally spoke, her voice like jade immersed in ice water.
Just then, her best friend Jing Xiao ran over to pull her away: “Zhang Yao is looking for you!” Jiang Wan’yuan was dragged backward, but raised her voice: “Yi Shang! I’ll bring you strawberry milk as an apology tomorrow—”
As the class bell rang, the homeroom teacher led a transfer student into the classroom. Standing on the podium, Yi Shang’s gaze swept over the entire class, pausing slightly on the eyes of a certain pigtail-wearing girl that suddenly lit up.
“…Pleased to meet you.” After a brief self-introduction, she walked towards the only empty seat—Jiang Wan’yuan was tapping her deskmate’s desk incessantly with her pen cap, her eyes curved like crescent moons.
“Ice cube classmate,” Jiang Wan’yuan whispered, drawing a puffed-up rabbit pushing an iceberg in the blank space of her textbook, “This is you.” Then she drew a rabbit wearing a butterfly hairpin waving desperately at the iceberg, “This is me.”
The tip of Yi Shang’s fountain pen stained the paper with a small ink dot. Outside the window, cherry blossoms fluttered, and one gently landed in the crack between their desks.
Chalk dust floated in the sunlight, and Jiang Wan’yuan stared absentmindedly at the faint mole on the back of the neck of the girl in front of her. The small brown dot appeared and disappeared with Yi Shang’s writing movements, like a child hiding behind a curtain during hide-and-seek.
“Jiang Wan’yuan,” the math teacher’s voice suddenly cut through the air, “Please come up and solve this problem.”
The chalk scratched against the blackboard with a sharp sound, and she got stuck on the third line. Laughter rippled through the classroom, and sweat trickled down her pigtails into her collar. Suddenly, a piece of draft paper was pushed over from the side, with solution steps as neat as print, and a small arrow drawn in the corner, pointing to the rabbit pushing the iceberg that she had doodled that morning.
The end-of-class bell rescued her. When Jiang Wan’yuan turned around, Yi Shang had already walked to the water dispenser at the end of the hallway. Sunlight shone through her fingers holding the water cup, casting pale blue vein patterns on the wall.
“Thanks,” Jiang Wan’yuan suddenly popped out from behind, and Yi Shang’s water cup trembled slightly. “As a reward—” she conjured a lunchbox with a strawberry sticker from behind her back, “Try my family’s special plum rice balls!”
Yi Shang’s eyelashes cast fan-shaped shadows under her eyes. In the distance, Zhang Yao’s voice called Jiang Wan’yuan to go rehearse for cheerleading. The pigtail girl hurriedly stuffed the lunchbox into her hand: “Remember to return the lunchbox to me!”
The metal lid retained warmth, and when Yi Shang opened it, she found that each rice ball was shaped into a crooked rabbit.
As the pre-lunch break bell rang, Jiang Wan’yuan saw her lunchbox at the entrance of the dance classroom. Inside the washed box was a note, with sharp, knife-like handwriting: “Sweet tofu pudding.” She suddenly laughed, startling a dozing sparrow on the windowsill.
It suddenly rained when school was over. Jiang Wan’yuan squatted in front of the shoe cabinet, conflicted, when she saw Yi Shang open a black umbrella and walk into the rain. She rushed out and squeezed under the other person’s umbrella, drops of water from her hair splashing on Yi Shang’s face: “Give me a ride, okay?”
The umbrella tilted slightly, and Yi Shang’s right shoulder was quickly soaked by the rain. Jiang Wan’yuan smelled a cedar scent on her that the rain couldn’t wash away, mixed with the strawberry shampoo scent in her hair, brewing a wonderful sweet and astringent aroma in the small space.
After turning the third intersection, Jiang Wan’yuan suddenly grabbed Yi Shang’s wrist: “Isn’t your home not in this direction?” Yi Shang’s wrist bone jumped lightly in her palm, and the umbrella reflected a swaying image in the accumulated water.
“I’ll go back after I drop you off.” Yi Shang’s ear tips flushed red in the rain, like cherry blossoms falling on snow.
The next morning, a black umbrella appeared on Jiang Wan’yuan’s desk, with a red ribbon tied to the handle. When she turned her head, she saw Yi Shang helping the class representative distribute homework, her medium-short hair tucked behind her ear, revealing a clean profile.
In the morning after the rain, the air was still filled with the moist scent of earth. Jiang Wan’yuan stood at the school gate, her fingers twirling the red ribbon on the umbrella handle, her gaze constantly scanning the crowd pouring into the school gate. The ribbon was wound around her index finger and then released, already a little wrinkled.
“Waiting for someone? So engrossed.” Zhang Yao suddenly patted her shoulder from behind, startling her so much that she almost dropped the umbrella on the ground.
“No, no one.” Jiang Wan’yuan hurriedly stuffed the umbrella into her bag, but accidentally caught a corner of the ribbon. As she frantically rescued the strand of red, she caught sight of a familiar figure walking past the other side of the school gate.
Yi Shang had tucked all her hair behind her ears today, revealing her fair neck. Her walking posture was very special, as if stepping on an invisible straight line, her shoulders barely moving. Jiang Wan’yuan noticed a small silver stud in her earlobe, flashing in the morning light.
“Hey, mesmerized?” Zhang Yao waved in front of her eyes, “I heard that transfer student from Class Three turned down the cheerleading squad’s invitation? What a pity, she has great proportions.”
Jiang Wan’yuan bit her lower lip. After Yi Shang sent her home yesterday, she realized that the two lived in completely different directions. The black umbrella lay heavy in her bag, the ribbon brushing against her thigh, tickling.
In the last second before the class bell rang, Jiang Wan’yuan rushed into the classroom. Yi Shang was already sitting in her seat, writing something in her notebook. Jiang Wan’yuan created a gust of wind as she slid into her seat, stirring the pages of Yi Shang’s open book.
“Good morning!” Jiang Wan’yuan leaned over, smelling the faint scent of ink on Yi Shang, “Thank you for sending me home yesterday.”
Yi Shang gave a soft “mm,” without stopping her pen. Jiang Wan’yuan noticed that her eyelashes were almost transparent in the sunlight, like dragonfly wings.
“I brought your umbrella,” Jiang Wan’yuan lowered her voice, taking out the neatly folded black umbrella from her bag, “The ribbon… did you tie it?”
The pen tip paused on the paper, staining it with a small ink dot. Yi Shang turned her head, her gaze landing on Jiang Wan’yuan’s cheeks, which were flushed from running: “I was afraid you wouldn’t recognize it.”
Jiang Wan’yuan suddenly felt that the heating in the classroom was too high. She lowered her head and pretended to organize her books, but found that Yi Shang’s notebook was densely filled with solution steps, and a simple rabbit with a bow tied around its ears was drawn in the corner.
“This is…” Just as she was about to reach out and point, the homeroom teacher’s voice came from the podium: “For the monthly exam next week, the top ten students in the grade will be eligible to participate in the city’s math competition.”
The classroom immediately filled with lamentations. Jiang Wan’yuan quietly glanced at Yi Shang—the other person was still expressionless, but the fingers holding the pen tightened slightly.
During lunch break, Jiang Wan’yuan carried her tray around the cafeteria, finally spotting Yi Shang in the far corner. Several girls from other classes were sitting across from her, discussing something animatedly, while Yi Shang ate quietly, like an isolated island surrounded by waves.
“Is this seat taken?” Jiang Wan’yuan put down her tray without waiting for an answer, and the girls across from Yi Shang showed surprised expressions.
“Are you… Jiang Wan’yuan?” a girl with a ponytail asked, “From the cheerleading squad?”
Jiang Wan’yuan nodded, scooping a large spoonful of rice into her mouth. She noticed that Yi Shang’s tray had almost untouched green vegetables, and naturally took them: “Give them to me if you’re not going to eat them, don’t waste them.”
The girls exchanged glances. The ponytail girl suddenly lowered her voice: “Did you guys know? I heard that Yi Shang transferred from a provincial key school, because…”
“I’m done eating.” Yi Shang suddenly stood up, the tray making a crisp clatter. Her expression was still calm, but Jiang Wan’yuan saw her hands clenched into fists at her sides.
“Wait for me!” Jiang Wan’yuan hastily shoveled down the last few mouthfuls of rice and chased after her. At the corner of the hallway, she grabbed Yi Shang’s wrist: “Do they always do that?”
Yi Shang’s skin was very cool, like a piece of jade that couldn’t be warmed. Sunlight streamed in from the hallway window, stretching their shadows long and overlapping.
“Whatever,” Yi Shang pulled her hand back, “I’m used to it.”
Jiang Wan’yuan suddenly remembered something, and took out a piece of fruit candy from her pocket: “For you. Strawberry flavored, super sweet.”
Yi Shang looked at the candy lying in Jiang Wan’yuan’s palm, the wrapper shimmering in the sunlight. She hesitated for a moment, and as she reached out to take it, her fingertips lightly brushed against Jiang Wan’yuan’s palm, like a feather skimming the surface of water.
“Thank you,” Yi Shang’s voice was so soft that it was almost drowned out by the dismissal bell.
During physical education class in the afternoon, Jiang Wan’yuan returned to the classroom early to rehearse cheerleading. When she pushed open the door, she saw Yi Shang sitting alone by the window, holding the notebook that was always filled with notes. Sunlight gilded her with a golden edge through the glass, even her hair was glowing.
Jiang Wan’yuan tiptoed closer, suddenly covering Yi Shang’s eyes from behind: “Guess who I am?”
Yi Shang’s shoulders stiffened for a moment, then relaxed: “Jiang Wan’yuan.”
“Too easy,” Jiang Wan’yuan pouted, walked around to the front, and found that Yi Shang had not opened her notebook, but a sketchbook. The paper was filled with rabbits in various poses, some gnawing on carrots, some chasing butterflies. On the newest page, a rabbit with a bow tied around its neck was holding a strawberry.
“Wow! You draw so well!” Jiang Wan’yuan exclaimed, “This one looks like me!”
Yi Shang quickly closed the sketchbook, her ear tips flushing red: “Just drawing randomly.”
Jiang Wan’yuan suddenly moved closer, her nose almost touching Yi Shang’s face: “I’ve discovered that you’re not cold at all.”
Yi Shang leaned back, her back against the window frame. Jiang Wan’yuan could smell the faint strawberry candy scent in her breath.
“The math competition next week,” Jiang Wan’yuan backed away a little, tilting her head to ask, “Will you participate?”
Yi Shang lowered her eyes, the shadow cast by her long eyelashes obscuring her expression: “I don’t know.”
“Go!” Jiang Wan’yuan grabbed her hand, “You’re so amazing, you’ll definitely get first place!”
Yi Shang’s hand trembled slightly in her palm. Laughter from classmates came from outside the window, getting closer and closer. She gently pulled her hand back and stuffed the sketchbook into her desk: “Maybe.”
It was cloudy again when school was over. Jiang Wan’yuan slowly packed her bag, occasionally stealing glances at Yi Shang. The other person didn’t seem to notice the impending rain, and was focused on solving a math problem.
“Um…” Jiang Wan’yuan twisted her fingers, “It might rain again today.”
Yi Shang didn’t even look up: “Mm.”
“I forgot my umbrella at home.”
This time, Yi Shang raised her head, her obsidian-like eyes looking straight at Jiang Wan’yuan: “So?”
“So…” Jiang Wan’yuan blinked, “Can I share your umbrella again?”
The corners of Yi Shang’s mouth lifted almost imperceptibly, then quickly returned to calm: “Whatever.”
When they walked out of the school gate, it was already raining heavily. Yi Shang opened her umbrella, and Jiang Wan’yuan immediately squeezed under it, this time paying special attention not to get her hair on Yi Shang’s face. They stood shoulder to shoulder, the rain drumming densely on the umbrella’s surface.
“Today…” Jiang Wan’yuan began, while Yi Shang also said: “You…”
They both stopped at the same time. Jiang Wan’yuan laughed: “You go first.”
Yi Shang shook her head, signaling her to continue. Jiang Wan’yuan took a deep breath: “Don’t take to heart what those girls said today. I think you’re great, really.”
Rainwater slid down the umbrella ribs, converging into small streams at their feet. Yi Shang’s footsteps paused, and the umbrella tilted slightly, blocking the rain blowing in from the side.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice so soft that it was almost drowned out by the rain.
After turning the second intersection, Jiang Wan’yuan suddenly stopped: “Let me walk you home today.”
Yi Shang frowned: “No need.”
“Just to return the favor from yesterday,” Jiang Wan’yuan insisted, reaching out to take the umbrella handle, but accidentally grasped Yi Shang’s hand. Both of their skin was cold, but the point of contact felt like an electric current passing through.
Yi Shang released her hand, giving her the umbrella: “…Thank you.”
This time it was Jiang Wan’yuan holding the umbrella, and she had to raise her arm, her body leaning unconsciously towards Yi Shang. They walked very slowly, as if deliberately prolonging this time together.
“We’re here.” Yi Shang stopped in front of an old apartment building. The motion sensor light in the stairwell was broken, and darkness waited like a gaping mouth to devour something.
Jiang Wan’yuan handed the umbrella back to her: “See you tomorrow?”
Yi Shang took the umbrella, hesitating slightly: “Want to come up for a bit? It’s raining too hard.”
Jiang Wan’yuan blinked, her heart suddenly accelerating: “C-Can I?”
Yi Shang had already turned and walked into the stairwell: “Whatever.”
The sensor light in the stairwell flickered, as if it would go out at any moment. Jiang Wan’yuan followed Yi Shang up the narrow stairs, their footsteps echoing in the empty stairwell. When they reached the fourth floor, a piercing argument leaked through the door.
“You’re just like your mother, ungrateful and never satisfied!” A man’s hoarse roar was accompanied by the thud of something hitting the wall.
Yi Shang’s hand paused on the key ring, her knuckles white. She turned to look at Jiang Wan’yuan, a glimmer of something Jiang Wan’yuan had never seen before flashing in her dark eyes—like the helplessness of a trapped beast.
“Maybe… I should go back,” Jiang Wan’yuan said softly, her fingers twisting the backpack strap unconsciously.
Yi Shang took a deep breath, and the sound of the key inserting into the lock was especially crisp. The moment the door opened, a glass shattered at their feet, the pieces scattering.
“You know how to come back?” The middle-aged man standing in the living room had bloodshot eyes, his shirt crumpled and clinging to his body, and a half-empty bottle of white liquor in his hand. His expression froze for a moment when he saw Jiang Wan’yuan.
Yi Shang stood in front of Jiang Wan’yuan, her voice lower than usual: “Dad, this is my classmate.”
The man sneered and staggered towards the sofa: “Bringing people back again? Just like your mother, always showing off, right?”
Jiang Wan’yuan saw Yi Shang’s back tense like a drawn bow. The living room was filled with the smell of alcohol and something decaying, and the coffee table was piled with takeout boxes and empty wine bottles. Only four conspicuous nail holes remained where a photo frame had originally hung on the wall.
“Go to my room,” Yi Shang grabbed Jiang Wan’yuan’s wrist and quickly led her through the living room. Jiang Wan’yuan caught a glimpse of the mountain of dirty dishes piled in the kitchen sink, and several scratches on the floor as if something heavy had been dragged across it.
Yi Shang’s bedroom was like another world—a tidy single bed, books arranged by color on the bookshelf, and a row of succulents on the windowsill. The moment the door closed, the curses outside became muffled.
“I’m sorry,” Yi Shang turned her back to Jiang Wan’yuan and straightened the desk, the lines of her shoulders stiff, “You shouldn’t have seen all this.”
Jiang Wan’yuan didn’t know what to say. She noticed the photo frame lying face down on Yi Shang’s bedside table, and a pencil sketch fixed to the wall with tacks—the woman in the drawing had the same eyebrows and eyes as Yi Shang, and her smiling face reminded one of the spring stream.
“Is that… your mother?”
Yi Shang’s fingers lingered on the edge of the frame for a second, but ultimately didn’t turn it over: “She left last month,” she said very softly, as if talking about the weather, “My dad said she ran away with someone else.”
The rain outside grew heavier, the drops hammering hard on the glass. Jiang Wan’yuan suddenly noticed that Yi Shang’s desk drawer wasn’t closed tightly, revealing a corner of a hospital diagnosis report—the words “mild depression” were vaguely visible.
“Yi Shang…” Jiang Wan’yuan’s throat tightened.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Yi Shang suddenly turned around, a flame Jiang Wan’yuan had never seen before burning in her dark eyes, “I don’t need sympathy.”
The sound of something heavy falling came from the living room, followed by the crisp sound of breaking glass. Yi Shang’s eyelashes fluttered, but her expression remained calm. Jiang Wan’yuan thought of the scar on her wrist, and her stomach suddenly cramped.
“The math competition…” Jiang Wan’yuan tried to keep her voice from trembling, “Is it because of your mother?”
Yi Shang’s breath hitched. She walked to the window, the rain casting moving shadows on her face: “The last time I participated, she was watching me from the audience.” Her fingers stroked the window frame unconsciously, “I messed up, I didn’t even pass the preliminaries. That night they argued fiercely, he said… I don’t even have any value anymore.”
Jiang Wan’yuan’s vision blurred. She remembered the rabbits in Yi Shang’s sketchbook—at first, they were always curled up alone in a corner.
“No!” She rushed over and grabbed Yi Shang’s hand, finding that the other person’s fingers were as cold as a dead person’s, “You draw so well, you solve problems so amazingly, and you… you also…”
Yi Shang looked at her quietly, a smile that wasn’t a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth: “Also what?”
Jiang Wan’yuan’s tears fell on their clasped hands: “Also willing to lend an umbrella to a stranger who dirtied your clothes.”
Heavy footsteps came from outside the door, stopping in front of Yi Shang’s door. The man’s turbid voice came through the door: “Solve your own dinner, don’t bother me.”
Yi Shang didn’t respond. Only when the footsteps faded away did she release Jiang Wan’yuan’s hand and take out a box of instant noodles from her bag: “This is all there is.”
Jiang Wan’yuan wiped away her tears, snatched the instant noodles, and threw them on the bed: “Let’s go, I’ll treat you to dinner!”
“It’s raining outside.”
“So?” Jiang Wan’yuan grabbed Yi Shang’s wrist, deliberately avoiding the scar, “A new ramen shop just opened downstairs from my house, the broth is super rich!”
Yi Shang stood still, her gaze falling on their touching skin. Jiang Wan’yuan looked directly into her eyes: “There’s a red ribbon on your umbrella.” She tugged at the matching hair tie on her ponytail, “And I love red the most.”
Yi Shang blinked, and a tear slid down her face without warning. She quickly turned her face away, but Jiang Wan’yuan had already seen it.
“Wait for me,” Yi Shang took out a tin box from the depths of her closet, opened it, and took out a photo, stuffing it into her pocket—the edges of the photo had been torn and then glued back together. Jiang Wan’yuan glimpsed a young Yi Shang being held in a woman’s arms, the two of them smiling brightly on a podium.
The rain was still falling, but it was much lighter now. They quietly slipped out of the apartment, without an umbrella. Raindrops dripped down Yi Shang’s hair, and she tilted her face up, as if feeling the temperature of the rain for the first time.
“Hey!” Jiang Wan’yuan suddenly turned around in the rain, cupping her hands around her mouth and shouting, “Yi Shang! Let’s go to the math competition together!”
Yi Shang was stunned, the rain streaking across her face. Thunder rumbled in the distance, but Jiang Wan’yuan’s voice cut through all the noise: “This time, I’ll be watching you from the audience!”
Yi Shang’s lips moved. In the rain, Jiang Wan’yuan saw her slowly raise her hand, holding the precious photo to her chest, and nodded.
After this, Jiang Wan’yuan hurried home.