Back to Auntie’s School Days - Chapter 32

What can one do while lying in the same bed?

What can one do to the person they love?

In a flash, all the novels, comics, and videos Jian Hao had ever consumed deep into the night—the ones with an “R” rating—flooded her mind.

In an instant, Jian Hao’s mouth went dry. She squeezed her legs together and let go of Tan Yanqing’s waist.

“Uh…”

Her tongue swiped over her lips, and she bit her lower lip, her heart beating like a frantic drum.

What did Tan Yanqing mean by those words?

Was she teasing her on purpose, or was she serious?

If it was a joke, she was putting far too much trust in Jian Hao’s character; if Jian Hao didn’t get a “Model Student” award for this, the world was truly irrational.

But if she was serious…

In the pitch-black night, Jian Hao was wide awake. Her eyes were like saucers, staring into the dark. Her hearing had become incredibly acute, so much so that she seemed to hear another rhythmic thumping. It was Tan Yanqing’s. Right, she was pillowed on Tan Yanqing’s right shoulder, very close to her heart.

Whether it was a truth or a lie, she just had to listen.

Listen—

Listen—

She couldn’t hear a thing!

The only thing she could hear was her own heartbeat! The frequency was so intense it felt like it was trying to speak for her: I want to! I want to do something to you!

Do to you every single thing I’ve ever seen in those stories and videos.

But—

Her feet were the first to retreat from Tan Yanqing’s blanket, followed by her legs, then her hips, her torso, and finally her arms.

She retreated back into her own blanket.

Her side was ice cold, but even that couldn’t suppress the fire in her body. She lay on her side, back turned to Tan Yanqing. She didn’t dare look back, and she didn’t dare listen.

She was scared.

She was a coward.

How could she dare do anything to Tan Yanqing? If “Auntie Tan” ever found out, she’d be finished.

Wait? Would Auntie Tan find out?

Pffft.

A light chuckle broke the silence of the night. Hearing the laugh, Jian Hao’s body stiffened.

What was Tan Yanqing laughing at?

As expected, Tan Yanqing was joking with her! Tan Yanqing knew she was a coward.

Yes, how could she not be? After Tan Yanqing asked what their relationship was, she still hadn’t given her an answer. She was so cowardly that even though she missed Tan Yanqing, she didn’t dare call her, terrified that the idea of Tan Yanqing liking her was just a dream.

So, was Tan Yanqing making this kind of joke to push her? To push her to be a bit braver? To force her to see that this wasn’t a dream, but reality?

Tan Yanqing liked her.

There was no “White Moonlight” or “Cinnabar Mole”—Tan Yanqing’s heart only held room for her.

Then confess to her! Be with her!

But what about Auntie Tan?

She still remembered the look in Auntie Tan’s eyes when she rejected her. Auntie Tan didn’t like her, yet she had made the young Tan Yanqing fall for her. By doing this, was she betraying Auntie Tan?

But if she didn’t confess, wouldn’t she be hurting the young Tan Yanqing?

—Could she herself be that “White Moonlight” or “Cinnabar Mole”?

This was a thought she hadn’t considered. She had always wanted to help Tan Yanqing find that “scumbag” girl, but if the future couldn’t be changed, then anyone Tan Yanqing fell for could be that person.

Could that “scumbag” be her?

The moment she realized this possibility, the fire in Jian Hao’s body was extinguished as if doused by a bucket of water. Her body began to feel cold and stiff.

Suddenly, a weight appeared on her waist. A warm, soft arm wrapped around her like a snake, but after just a second, the hand shifted to take hold of her wrist.

Tan Yanqing was much steadier than Jian Hao. Unsure of the other’s thoughts but unable to stop herself from getting closer, she maintained a necessary distance while keeping the ambiguity alive.

“Just kidding.” Tan Yanqing thought she was scared. In the cold night, her voice was warm and soothing.

“I’m sleepy. Let’s sleep,” Tan Yanqing said. “Goodnight.”

A long time passed—long enough for Tan Yanqing to fall asleep—before Jian Hao finally turned over to lie flat. Tan Yanqing was still holding her wrist, her own arm exposed outside their blankets. Jian Hao touched it; it was cold. She pulled the blanket over Tan Yanqing’s arm and took her hand. The moment she did, the hand squeezed back.

Jian Hao’s heart skipped a beat.

The next day was the first day back at school. While waiting at the bus stop, it was still dark. A few stray cars drove past on the road.

Scrape—scrape—

Jian Hao followed the sound and saw a sanitation worker sweeping up fallen leaves with a large broom. Autumn in Nanqing was far too short. It felt like the leaves turned yellow and fell all in the span of the National Day holiday.

And Jian Hao’s autumn had ended on the final day of that holiday.

She turned her head and exhaled toward the streetlamp, clearly seeing the white mist of winter’s breath.

Tan Yanqing stood beside her, wearing headphones. The white cord was connected to an MP3 player—red, oval-shaped, and small. Jian Hao had seen Auntie Tan use one exactly like it.

What was she listening to?

Jian Hao was curious, but she didn’t ask. Since waking up, both she and Tan Yanqing had reached a silent agreement not to mention the night before. They spoke in short, perfunctory sentences, almost like they were strangers again, yet also like they had silently accepted something.

But it seemed Tan Yanqing noticed her curious glances. After boarding the bus and sitting in the same row, Tan Yanqing took out the right earbud, blew on it gently, and tucked it into Jian Hao’s ear.

In all teen literature, two students in school uniforms, sitting side-by-side on a bus crowded with classmates, with the scenery flashing by outside—heartbeats are hidden in these unpredictable changes.

As the streetlamps went out all at once and the dawn broke into a sunrise, the two listening to the same MP3 in the noisy bus felt like a peak romantic moment.

Even if the MP3 was playing English listening practice.

When they reached their stop, Jian Hao returned the earbud, ending an experience that was romantic yet intellectually taxing. Only then did she hear her classmates talking nearby, all saying the holiday had passed in a blink and that it felt like they’d just left yesterday.

Not wanting to go to school is a universal student feeling. But there were also those who couldn’t wait, because the holiday was full of longing, and only at school could they see their crush.

Tan Yanqing was beautiful. Even though she wore thick-rimmed glasses that obscured half her face, a beautiful person is beautiful no matter what.

Or perhaps, falling for someone is just an inexplicable thing. Sometimes you feel nothing for them, but then you dream of them one night, and suddenly you pay them more attention. Then you find the ways they are different from others, get charmed by their cuteness, and then… you like them.

Tan Yanqing wasn’t one to seek the spotlight, but her name was always on the teachers’ lips, and being the Class Monitor, she naturally drew attention. Some liked her straight back during class; some liked the handwriting on her papers; some liked her meticulous high ponytail; some liked her grades; some liked the way her gaze swept over the room…

Some found her cold and didn’t dare confess.

But some would take souvenirs bought during the holiday and present them to her, along with a letter decorated with hearts.

This happened just as Jian Hao and Tan Yanqing walked through the school gates. Shao Jiu looked at Tan Yanqing with eyes full of anticipation, hoping she’d accept the gift.

“Thank you, but I don’t need it.”

Tan Yanqing walked past Shao Jiu. After a few steps, seeing Jian Hao hadn’t followed, she stopped and called out in a completely different tone: “Lailai.”

Jian Hao looked at Shao Jiu, said goodbye, and caught up with Tan Yanqing.

It wasn’t just politeness; it was because Shao Jiu… was also someone she called “Auntie.” “Auntie Shao” was a friend of Auntie Tan; she had seen her many times when Auntie Tan brought her along. Every time they met, Auntie Shao would buy her gifts and treats. She had never noticed back then that Auntie Shao liked Auntie Tan.

Wait… was passing out love letters after a holiday some kind of trend?

After the first period in the afternoon, someone from the neighboring class actually found Jian Hao and asked her to help give a love letter to Tan Yanqing. The reason was that Jian Hao and Tan Yanqing were close.

They were close—close enough to kiss.

Who on earth would deliver a love letter for a romantic rival?

Jian Hao was about to refuse, but on second thought, she smiled and said, “You can give it to me.” The person thanked her profusely, saying if it worked out, they’d buy her a drink.

Jian Hao: “Don’t mention it, it’s nothing.”

Back at her seat, Jian Hao casually stuffed the letter into her backpack. When school was over, she’d “casually” drop it into a trash can outside. She knew it was unethical and deserved condemnation.

But go ahead and condemn her. Jian Hao didn’t care.

Putting aside whether Tan Yanqing would look at it or accept it, senior year was a critical stage. How could anyone be so casual about romance? Jian Hao suspected the person might even be an undercover agent sent by someone who disliked Tan Yanqing, trying to lower her grades with a love letter.

What a devious plan! Good thing she was sharp enough to intercept it.

She stood up and walked to Tan Yanqing’s desk. “Jian You asked us to go to her house for dinner tonight.”

Tan Yanqing was focused on her homework. She gave an “Mhm” but saw Jian Hao about to leave. She looked up. “What did that person give you just now?”

Jian Hao was puzzled. “You saw that?” She thought Tan Yanqing was too busy studying to notice anything else.

“Mhm.”

“Nothing much, just a love letter,” Jian Hao said.

Tan Yanqing’s hand tightened around her pen, and her voice turned cold. “You accepted it?”

Even though she saw Jian Hao take it, she wanted to hear a denial.

Jian Hao nodded. “I took it.”

Tan Yanqing watched her nonchalant expression, and for a moment, it felt as if her heart were being squeezed and pulled by an unseen hand. She slowly lowered her gaze.

The bell rang, and Jian Hao went back to her seat. The senior year teachers no longer required the class to stand, otherwise, the teacher would have noticed that Tan Yanqing stayed in a daze for a long time.

As the teacher lectured on the podium, she stared at the problem on her paper and thought:

How does one write a love letter?