JFWCM Chapter 2
by VolareIce Cones and Mint
Raindrops dripped down the window edge, accumulating into small puddles on the windowsill. Yi Shang stood by the window, watching Jiang Wan’yuan’s figure disappear into the alleyway. The umbrella handle in her hand still retained the warmth of the other’s palm.
Heavy snores came from the living room, the smell of alcohol seeping through the crack in the door. Yi Shang gently locked her bedroom door and took out a small, folded photo from her backpack’s inner pocket—a photo of her and her mother after last year’s math competition, which she had secretly pieced back together after her father tore it up.
Her fingertips traced the smiling lips of her mother in the photo. Yi Shang’s expression remained calm, only her eyelashes trembled slightly. She hid the photo back in its place, and as she turned around, she caught sight of Jiang Wan’yuan’s hair tie that she had forgotten to take—an ordinary hair tie with a red ribbon, now vividly glaring under the desk lamp.
Yi Shang picked up the hair tie, her fingertips caressing the tiny wrinkles on it, traces of Jiang Wan’yuan often biting it in her mouth. She hesitated for a moment, and finally put it into the deepest layer of her pencil case, the movement as light as if she were hiding some kind of evidence.
The phone screen lit up, it was a message from Jiang Wan’yuan:
[Are you home yet? What do you want to eat tomorrow? I’ll bring it for you! (^_^)]
Yi Shang stared at the emoticon for three seconds, then locked the screen. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard for a long time, and finally only replied with [Whatever].
The last ray of twilight outside the window was swallowed by darkness. Yi Shang turned on the desk lamp and opened her math exercise book. The rustling sound of the pen tip on the paper drowned out the snoring in the living room, as well as a strange agitation in her chest. When she got to the third question, she noticed that she had drawn a rabbit wearing a bow in the corner of the draft paper.
The pen tip suddenly stopped, and the ink blurred into a small black spot on the paper. Yi Shang frowned and tore off the page, crumpled it into a ball and threw it into the trash can, but in the next second, she picked it up again, carefully smoothed it out and folded it, and clipped it into her sketchbook that she never let anyone see.
When washing up, Yi Shang looked at herself in the mirror. Water droplets slid down her jawline, like silent tears. She reached out and wiped them away, and suddenly remembered the body temperature that Jiang Wan’yuan transmitted when she hugged her—it was too warm, so warm that it was scary. She vigorously dried her cheeks until her skin was slightly red.
Back in her room, Yi Shang took out the backpack that she had already packed from the depths of her closet. Inside were her documents, savings book, a few changes of clothes, and her sketchbook. She checked it again and put it back, a movement she had repeated seventeen times.
The phone lit up again:
[By the way! I got a math competition registration form for you! Let’s fill it out together tomorrow! (^_−)☆]
Yi Shang turned off the notification and lay on the bed. There was a crack in the ceiling, like the scar on her wrist. She habitually held her left wrist with her right hand, her fingertips pressing right on the raised edge of the scar.
In the darkness, the phone screen lit up again, but she didn’t look at it. She just turned over and buried her face in the pillow. The pillowcase smelled of laundry detergent, but it inexplicably reminded her of the strawberry scent in Jiang Wan’yuan’s hair.
At five o’clock in the morning, Yi Shang woke up on time. She quietly made breakfast and put it on the table—although she knew that her father would most likely knock it over when he woke up. Before going out, she hesitated, but still took Jiang Wan’yuan’s hair tie from the pencil case and tied it to the zipper of her backpack.
The campus in the morning light was as quiet as a dream. Yi Shang walked to the classroom door and found that someone was earlier than her—Jiang Wan’yuan was sleeping on her desk, her ponytail scattered, the conspicuous red ribbon tangled in her hair.
Yi Shang’s footsteps stopped at the door. Sunlight fell on Jiang Wan’yuan’s eyelashes through the window, casting tiny shadows on her cheeks. Her breathing was even, and there was still a bit of breadcrumb on the corner of her mouth.
Turning around and walking to the end of the corridor, Yi Shang stopped in front of the vending machine. With the crisp sound of coins falling into the machine, she chose a can of strawberry milk—the same flavor that Jiang Wan’yuan had spilled on her clothes that day.
When she returned to the classroom, Jiang Wan’yuan was already awake, rubbing her eyes and yawning. Seeing Yi Shang, she immediately smiled, revealing her two little tiger teeth: “Good morning! I brought you—”
Before she could finish, Yi Shang put the strawberry milk in front of her and walked straight to her seat. Jiang Wan’yuan blinked, and suddenly noticed that her hair tie was tied to Yi Shang’s backpack, swaying gently as she walked.
“Yi Shang!” Jiang Wan’yuan chased after her, her voice filled with unconcealed joy, “You found my hair tie for me?”
Yi Shang didn’t look up, just hummed an “Mm,” and opened her textbook. But Jiang Wan’yuan clearly saw that the tips of her ears were faintly pink in the morning light.
More and more classmates came into the classroom. Yi Shang silently read her book as usual, occasionally writing a few strokes in her notebook. No one noticed that next to the rabbit she drew today, there was a small strawberry.
No one noticed, when Jiang Wan’yuan shouted her name loudly in the corridor, although she didn’t respond, she quietly slowed down her pace.
When Jiang Wan’yuan said, “Classmate, let’s give you the nickname Xiao Shang,” Yi Shang’s gaze was like an ice pick piercing through. Jiang Wan’yuan instinctively shrunk her neck. The girl’s slender fingers were twirling a ballpoint pen, the metal body of the pen reflecting a cold light in the sun, just like her voice at the moment: “Call me whatever you want, it’s none of my business anyway.”
“Pa—”
A paper ball suddenly hit Yi Shang’s desk. In the unfolded wrinkles lay crooked handwriting: [Jiang Wan’yuan, are you going out to play after class? That new classmate, so boring, I’m telling you, and you’re still teasing her]. The postscript was an exaggerated smiley face.
Jiang Wan’yuan watched as the lines of Yi Shang’s face suddenly tightened. The girl turned around, her hair flying up in a mint-scented arc, her left eyebrow subtly raised. This expression, which should have been charming, looked as if it had been quenched with ice on her face, and the straight line of her thin lips seemed to lower the temperature of the classroom by two degrees.
“Next time I find out, I’ll tell the teacher.”
The crumpled paper ball drew a parabola in the air, accurately landing in Jiang Wan’yuan’s pencil case. Several students in the front row turned back when they heard the sound, and she wanted to bury her face in the textbook—it was clearly not her who wrote the note, but it was like being publicly executed.
(Who exactly is trying to harm me!)
The math teacher on the platform was writing on the blackboard, the sound of the chalk rubbing against the blackboard couldn’t drown out Jiang Wan’yuan’s violent heartbeat. She secretly glanced at Yi Shang out of the corner of her eye, the other’s cold white fingertips were unconsciously tapping on the table, each light sound was like a countdown.
—
When the school bell rang, Jiang Wan’yuan almost jumped up and grabbed her best friend Zhang Yao: “That ice block is going to tell the teacher today! Just because my deskmate passed her a note!”
“You wouldn’t…” Zhang Yao suddenly leaned close to her ear, “actually want to get her attention, right?”
“What nonsense are you talking about!” Jiang Wan’yuan’s ears burned, and she rushed out of the classroom with her schoolbag. The setting sun dyed the alley into a honey color, but she suddenly braked at the corner—five meters ahead, Yi Shang’s thin figure was moving under the vine-covered wall.
The girl’s school uniform jacket hung loosely, revealing a small patch of pale skin on the back of her neck. Jiang Wan’yuan followed her as if possessed, until the other stopped in front of a familiar apartment building.
“Are you following me?” Yi Shang suddenly turned around, startling a flock of perched sparrows.
“Who, who’s following you!” Jiang Wan’yuan pointed to the next unit door, “I live here, okay!” Only then did she notice that Yi Shang was holding a convenience store plastic bag, with the corner of a medical bandage showing inside.
As the security door closed heavily in front of her, Jiang Wan’yuan was still staring blankly at the doorplate of room 302. The sound of her mother humming came from the entrance, mixed with the gurgling aroma of stew in the kitchen.
“How are the new neighbors?” Her mother came out wiping her hands, “That household that moved in this morning…”
“It’s an iceberg!” Jiang Wan’yuan threw herself onto the sofa, burying her face in the pillow, “And it moves! It tattles! And it…” She suddenly remembered the suspicious plastic bag, “Mom, are there any injured people in the new neighbor’s house?”
—
The next morning, before the dew had dissipated, Jiang Wan’yuan saw the answer. Yi Shang was squatting in the alleyway tying her shoelaces, and when her school uniform pants were rolled up, a hideous wound was revealed on her calf. The scabbed dark red color was particularly glaring on the porcelain-white skin, and the edges were suspiciously purplish.
“You!” Jiang Wan’yuan rushed over and squatted down, the iodine swabs in the first aid kit scattered all over the ground, “You have to get a tetanus shot!”
Yi Shang backed away sharply, the back of her head hitting the wall. The pain made her eyes tear up, but she still forced a sneer: “None of your business.”
“It is my business!” Jiang Wan’yuan took the opportunity to hold her ankle, “The bandage you bought yesterday didn’t work at all, did it?” The moment the cotton swab pressed against the wound, she clearly felt the muscles trembling under her palm.
The morning light passed through the gaps in the plane tree leaves, casting fragmented spots of light on Yi Shang’s eyelashes. Jiang Wan’yuan suddenly realized that the eyes of this transfer student, who always had a cold face, were actually a rare amber color, like sunlight sealed in glass candy wrappers.
“The clouds…” Jiang Wan’yuan suddenly pointed to the sky, “Don’t they look like cotton candy?”
When Yi Shang looked up, a band-aid was gently pressed onto the wound. The girl’s fingertips were warm and dry, with the sweet scent of strawberry hand cream.
“We’re going to be late.” Yi Shang suddenly stood up, her ears turning red. She walked very fast, but this time, Jiang Wan’yuan was sure that she slowed down her pace.
The classroom was passing around paper cranes from handicraft class. When Lin Jichuan proudly displayed his work, Jiang Wan’yuan noticed a sketch pressed under Yi Shang’s textbook—the lines were messy, but you could vaguely make out that it was a cloud.
“Hey.” She poked the back of Yi Shang’s hand with the cap of her pen, “Next PE class…”
“I’m not taking the test for you.” Yi Shang didn’t even raise her head, “But I can teach you.”
Under the plane trees by the playground, two shadows gradually overlapped. When Jiang Wan’yuan supported her knees, panting, Yi Shang suddenly handed her a lemon candy: “If you have low blood sugar, don’t force yourself.”
The moment the whistle sounded, Jiang Wan’yuan suddenly felt black in front of her eyes. In her last consciousness, someone picked her up horizontally. The scent of mint mixed with a faint smell of blood lingered on the tip of her nose, and she vaguely heard rapid heartbeats—unclear whether from herself, or from the person who always said “Don’t touch me.”
The curtains of the infirmary were lifted by the wind, and Yi Shang stood in front of the bed against the light. The sunlight plated the hard lines of her face with a fuzzy edge, like an ice sculpture melting.
When the door of the infirmary was pushed open, Yi Shang had already retreated to the window. The school doctor came in and saw this scene: Jiang Wan’yuan was half-sitting on the hospital bed, her cheeks still flushed unnaturally; and the transfer student, who was rumored to never get close to people, was standing two meters away, her fingertips unconsciously stroking her school uniform pocket.
“Low blood sugar?” The school doctor glanced at the record book, “The third time this month.”
Jiang Wan’yuan smiled apologetically and wanted to defend herself, but saw Yi Shang suddenly take half a step forward: “She didn’t eat breakfast during PE class.” Her voice was still cold, but it stunned even the school doctor.
(She’s actually speaking up for me?)
When the school doctor was opening the glucose oral solution, Jiang Wan’yuan secretly sized up Yi Shang. The sunlight cast mottled light and shadows on her face through the blinds, and the always pursed lip line was slightly relaxed at the moment, like the first crack in the lake surface in early spring.
“Here.” Yi Shang suddenly handed over a folded note, “The physical test items for next week.”
Jiang Wan’yuan unfolded the note and found that the back also had a simple breakdown of running posture. The pencil lines were clean and neat, just like the cloud sketch under the textbook.
“Why…” Jiang Wan’yuan reached out to grab her sleeve, “Are you being so nice to me?”
Yi Shang stiffened for a moment.
When footsteps approached, Yi Shang had already returned to her cold appearance. But Jiang Wan’yuan saw clearly that half a pack of unopened strawberry bandages was exposed in her white coat pocket.
“… You drew this?” Her eyes lit up, “So you—”
“Shut up.” Yi Shang interrupted her, but her ears turned a suspicious pink, “Take it back if you say more.”
The fluorescent lights in the infirmary were blindingly bright, Jiang Wan’yuan squinted her eyes, watching Yi Shang standing by the bed, her figure against the light as if plated with a layer of fluffy gold trim. She suddenly felt that this transfer student, who always had a cold face, didn’t seem so difficult to approach.
“Hey, Yi Shang.” Jiang Wan’yuan reached out and tugged at her sleeve, her voice still a little weak due to low blood sugar, “Did you…carry me over just now?”
Yi Shang’s body stiffened obviously. She turned her face away, her voice still faint: “…Otherwise, should I have let you lie on the playground?”
Jiang Wan’yuan couldn’t help but laugh out loud: “Wow, so you can say such long sentences too?”
Yi Shang: “…”
(…This person is so annoying.)
But she didn’t leave, just stood by the bed, her fingers unconsciously stroking the pack of strawberry bandages in her pocket. Jiang Wan’yuan was sharp-eyed and immediately noticed it: “Eh? You really bought it?”
Yi Shang quickly pulled her hand out, her ears slightly red: “…I just grabbed it.”
“Oh~” Jiang Wan’yuan drew out the tone, smiling slyly, “Then do you want to put one on me? I think I scraped my knee.”
Yi Shang: “…Do it yourself.”
“I’m dizzy, I don’t have the strength.” Jiang Wan’yuan leaned back righteously, blinking her eyes to look at her, “Classmate Yi Shang, please help me?”
Yi Shang stared at her for two seconds, and finally pulled out a bandage from her pocket with a blank expression, tore open the package, but her movements were unexpectedly gentle. Jiang Wan’yuan looked down at her fingers, slender and fair, with slightly cool fingertips, but she was careful when applying the bandage, as if afraid of hurting her.
“Okay.” Yi Shang quickly retracted her hand, her tone still cold, “…Don’t move around.”
Jiang Wan’yuan looked down at the strawberry-patterned bandage on her knee, and suddenly felt as if something was gently scratching in her heart.
“Yi Shang.” She raised her head, smiling brightly, “Thank you.”
Yi Shang didn’t say anything, just turned her face away, but Jiang Wan’yuan clearly saw that the corners of her mouth turned up slightly for a moment.