Chapter 34

Who doesn't love spring, that lush, cicada-singing, fiercely blooming and hopeful season.

But today, I suddenly decided to like this sloppy winter.

—Little Monster's Diary

The person was hidden in the darkness, a tall figure lazily sinking into the sofa, still wearing that baseball jacket, just with a thin grey sweater added underneath. Their voice carried a hint of fatigue: "Why are you waiting for me?"

Kong Shadi held the microphone, glanced at Ding Xian, and then shouted: "Who knows, our Xianxian is just so infatuated—"

Ding Xian snatched the microphone from her hand and, under the dim light, gave Kong Shadi a fierce glare. Kong Shadi then realized what she had said, and quickly tried to please Ding Xian by hugging her arm, begging in a low voice: "I was wrong, sis, hit me."

Ding Xian slapped her hand away, ignoring her.

Kong Shadi persistently pounced on her. Before long, Ding Xian couldn't resist her clingy nature, and soon the two were giggling together, then Ding Xian said helplessly: "Let's see who can put up with you in the future."

Song Ziqi turned to look at Zhou Siyue, who was resting with his eyes closed.

"Not singing?"

Zhou Siyue was utterly exhausted and subconsciously shook his head.

Song Ziqi chuckled: "That's right, you'd better not sing. You might lose fans."

Zhou Siyue symbolically kicked him, not saying a single unnecessary word. He was truly tired.

In the private room, someone suddenly called out, "Deng Wanwan, your song—"

Deng Wanwan walked over to take the microphone, stood next to Zhou Siyue, and began to affectedly clear her throat, "It's been a long time since I sang this song, I wonder if I can find the feeling."

Kong Shadi subconsciously gave Ding Xian a look.

"Someone's starting to show off, you'd better hurry up."

Ding Xian was so angry inside, 'What am I showing off? My singing is terrible—'

Never having been to this kind of KTV, Ding Xian actually didn't know if she sang well. When she was little, Ye Wanxian had her perform a few times for relatives and friends, but she couldn't remember the exact reactions. Anyway, she was never asked to perform again during the New Year. After starting school, she wasn't a show-off either, and music classes were mostly group choruses, so she couldn't really tell her own skill level.

She spread her hands: "Alcohol."

"Huh?"

"Drink a couple sips, for courage."

Kong Shadi grabbed a few bottles of the lowest-proof beer from the side and handed them over cautiously: "Just two sips."

After two sips, Ding Xian pursed her lips, 'Hmm, it's quite good—'

She picked up the beer, looked at it, and took two more sips.

By the time Kong Shadi returned after selecting the songs, half a bottle of beer was gone, and Ding Xian was still licking her lips, clearly not having had enough.

"Alright, stop drinking. I've ordered 'Lonely Northern Hemisphere' for you. Sing it well."

Deng Wanwan's singing was indeed pleasant. After she finished, everyone cheered, urging her to quickly participate in the Top Ten Singers competition next year. Deng Wanwan, blushing, said: "I've made a fool of myself." but her gaze remained fixed on Zhou Siyue.

Ding Xian, holding the beer bottle, narrowed her eyes and took another swig.

"Let my goodnight accompany you for breakfast, remember to save your longing in the piggy bank, I watch the sky full of stars twinkling, listening to Cowherd tell Weaver Girl to be brave..."

The song finished.

Everyone: ...

Ding Xian put down the microphone, the alcohol stimulating her peripheral nerves. She excitedly asked Kong Shadi: "Was it good?"

Kong Shadi twitched her lips: "It was pretty good, just maybe not quite in tune..."

"..."

Ding Xian chugged the rest of the half-bottle of beer in one go.

'Crazy, the whole world is crazy.'

When Zhou Siyue woke up, it was almost over. He hadn't fully woken up yet and was still raking his hands through his hair to clear his head when something soft was stuffed into his arms. He subconsciously tried to push it away, only to hear Kong Shadi wave her hands: "The arduous and glorious task is handed over to you, bye-bye."

His hand was still resting in her dark hair. He looked down blankly at the person in his arms. After seeing clearly, he was so angry that his palm couldn't help but circle her neck, 'Might as well choke her to death—'

'Annoying pest.'

Ding Xian looked at him, giggling, her delicate eyes shimmering with tears.

His palm hovered in the air for two seconds, then he directly slapped her on the forehead, as if venting his anger, "What's so funny?"

Drag her away.

On the long street, only a few pedestrians walked by, the trees were silent. Moonlight cast a light wool blanket over the ground, and the shimmering lake surface had long since frozen, like a layer of scattered silver, glowing brightly in the dark night.

The young man walked in front, wearing only a thin grey sweater, his hands in his pockets.

The girl, wearing his baseball jacket, followed behind, stepping on his shadow, left foot, right foot, having a grand time.

"Zhou Siyue."

Ding Xian suddenly called out to him. The person in front stopped, not turning around: "What?"

She scurried to stand in front of him, tilting her small face up to look into his eyes. They were brighter than moonlight, almost pulling her in. She composed herself and, using the alcohol as courage, asked him: "Why haven't you been talking to me lately?"

She was relenting.

It was the first time she had softened for his pride.

He suddenly lowered his head and smiled, then looked away, turning his gaze elsewhere.

"How did I offend you?" she pressed again.

"You didn't offend me, I just find you annoying," Zhou Siyue said casually.

"Oh."

Ding Xian lowered her head, seemingly having no more questions, her head drooping in disappointment.

"Anything else to say?" Seeing her stop talking, Zhou Siyue frowned slightly.

"No, I haven't congratulated you yet, on making it into the Beijing Team—"

She forced a smile, wanting to pat his shoulder in encouragement, to tell him, 'Young man, don't forget me if you get rich and famous—'

But she found him standing like a statue, expressionless, and she lost her playful mood.

"Anything else?" Given Zhou Siyue's height advantage, Ding Xian inexplicably felt a sense of oppression, her chest tight, holding her breath, she puffed out her cheeks, "And, Happy New Year."

"Hm?"

"That's all."

On a winter night, the cold wind cut sharply like a keen knife.

Ding Xian suddenly felt a chill on her nose. She instinctively reached out to touch it; her fingertips were wet. It was snowing. She looked up, and under the moonlight, silvery-white snowflakes were falling one by one.

The young man opposite was looking at her with a half-smile. A few snowflakes melted in his dark hair, adding a touch of serenity. The alcohol went to her head, and a bold and crazy idea suddenly popped into her mind.

"I climbed out of the training camp in the middle of the night, and all I get are a few New Year's greetings? Isn't that a loss—" Zhou Siyue suddenly stopped, a smile melting at the corner of his mouth, because before he could finish, his words were replaced by an extremely soft "smooch."

Even the sleeping insects on the trees were startled off their branches, lying on the ground bewildered, just like the expression on the young man's face opposite her.

Ding Xian quickly stood on her tiptoes, lightly touching his cheek. To be precise, she didn't actually touch it; she kissed the air near it. She quickly stepped back, smiling brightly at him: "My uncle said this is a cheek kiss, it brings good luck to people, more effective than New Year's greetings."

Zhou Siyue held his breath for three seconds, looked at her, and squeezed out a stiff "thank you".

Ding Xian lowered her head, unable to stifle a laugh.

When she looked up again, their eyes met, both with an unspoken smile on their lips, then they simultaneously looked down, composing themselves.

Who doesn't love spring, that lush, cicada-singing, fiercely blooming and hopeful season.

But today, she decided to like this sloppy winter.

After the Lantern Festival, school officially started. Liu Jiang rearranged the seats. Kong Shadi, by some unknown magic, managed to get Liu Jiang to agree to let her share a desk with Song Ziqi. As for Ding Xian and Zhou Siyue, given their steadily improving grades, Liu Jiang did not change their seats, and even specifically reminded her to learn more math from Zhou Siyue.

Ding Xian readily agreed, 'For your kind intention, I must study hard.'

The group of four reunited. Kong Shadi winked at her, full of joy, and Ding Xian was also genuinely happy for her. She threw a flirtatious glance back, but was naturally rewarded with a flick on the forehead. Ding Xian winced in pain, glaring angrily at the perpetrator. Zhou Siyue, looking utterly composed, casually pulled a book from his desk, opened it, and asked without raising his head: "Have you thought it through? Humanities or Sciences?"

Hearing this, Kong Shadi naturally turned around and said: "Why do you care if our Xianxian studies Humanities or Sciences?"

Zhou Siyue: "I see you've just moved over, and you already want to go back?"

Kong Shadi scoffed, disdainfully: "The class head has already agreed, you can't possibly switch me back, can you?"

Zhou Siyue lowered his head, flipped through the book again, and said indifferently: "I'll tell the class head that you sitting in front of me affects my studies. Let's see if he switches you back."

Then Ding Xian witnessed the fastest change of expression she had ever seen.

Kong Shadi made a zipping motion over her lips, quickly forcing out an obsequious, sheepish smile: "How dare I disturb your studies and delay you from winning a gold medal? I'd be a sinner of Yansan High School. From now on, when you speak, I promise not to say a single word."

Zhou Siyue got his way: "Alright, you may withdraw."

It was more than halfway through the semester when Ding Xian learned something: Zhou Siyue had been disciplined during the Winter Camp.

Kong Shadi told her about it.

"Disciplined?"

Kong Shadi pursed her lips and nodded with a pained expression, "You have to keep it a secret. No one was supposed to know about this. Zhou Siyue didn't mention it to anyone. It was that day when He Xingwen was talking to someone from Class Ten, and Jiang Chen overheard it. He said that Zhou Siyue was disciplined during the Winter Camp, and his training performance seemed to be affected. Yang Weitao has been angry with Zhou Siyue about this for a long time."

"Why?"

Kong Shadi lowered her head: "...It was my birthday that day... When I went back, some bastard reported us to the teacher, and we got caught red-handed. If Yang Weitao hadn't pleaded for him, the teacher would have sent him home on the spot, and he wouldn't have been able to participate in the training camp. I'm sorry, please don't hit me."

As the two of them were gossiping, the person involved overheard them. Zhou Siyue came over from who-knows-where, carrying a ball, and pressed a hand on Ding Xian's back of the head. He walked past her, saying without turning back: "Stop gossiping, hurry back and do your problems."

"..."

Back in the classroom, Ding Xian hesitated to speak several times, which Zhou Siyue noticed. He chuckled: "Don't look so glum, I'm not dead yet."

"Ptooey, ptooey, ptooey—" She spat a few times, "Can you watch what you say?"

He didn't care: "If people died that easily, would there be so many murderers? It's fine, I'm alright, and I don't regret it either."

When Zhou Siyue said this, his gaze was fixed on her.

At that moment, Ding Xian couldn't meet his gaze for more than five seconds. She didn't know if it was her imagination, but she always felt his eyes were full of various deep emotions, instantly drawing her in.

She looked away, pretending to read her book: "Will it affect your chances of getting into the National Team?"

Zhou Siyue turned his head back, twirling his pen as he looked down and flipped through the test papers: "I don't know."

Ding Xian didn't know if he genuinely didn't know, or if he said 'I don't know' to keep her from worrying. Later, Yang Weitao came to find Zhou Siyue several times, suggesting he go talk more with that teacher and bring some gifts, but Zhou Siyue refused every time.

He always insisted on letting his grades speak for themselves, but Yang Weitao knew very well why Xu Ke, who got a perfect score last year, didn't make it. Sometimes the National Team's considerations aren't just based on scores, but also on the students' overall qualities. Moreover, this year's students were particularly strong; some had been doing competitions since elementary school, struggling for over a decade, just waiting for this final push.

At the end of Senior One, Ding Xian submitted her Humanities/Sciences division form.

Kong Shadi followed closely behind.

The two looked at the Humanities/Sciences division forms in each other's hands and exchanged a smile.