One day before the Gaokao,
Morning, the corridor
The final day.
School only held classes for half a day to set up the examination hall. The corridors were piled high with book boxes, and everyone was like ants moving house, taking three years’ worth of materials home, trip by trip.
Lin Mo squatted at the classroom entrance, sealing the last box of books with tape.
Sunlight slanted in through the window, casting patches of warm yellow across the floor tiles of the corridor.
A set of footsteps stopped beside him.
He looked up.
Shen Qingyue stood before him, clutching her well-worn physics notes in her arms.
Sunlight fell upon her fair face. Her lenses reflected the light, masking her gaze, but the tips of her ears were slightly red.
“Lin Mo.”
Lin Mo stood up.
“This…” She handed over the physics notes. Her movements were gentle, as if afraid of disturbing something. “Borrow this. You can take it with you during the two days of the Gaokao. I have organized an index of formulas that are easy to forget before the exam.”
Lin Mo froze for a moment.
He had seen that notebook many times. She would flip through it every time she explained a problem, and the corners were already worn. It was the fruit of her three years of hard work.
“This is too precious. Don’t you need it yourself?”
“I have it all memorized,” Shen Qingyue said softly.
After a pause, she added, “It is just a loan. After the exam… remember to return it to me.”
When she said “remember to return it to me,” there was a hint of nervousness in her voice that was hard to detect.
That sentence had two layers of meaning.
The first was literal: the notes had to be returned.
The other was… that after the exam, they still had to meet. They still had to stay in touch. He had to personally return what he had borrowed.
Lin Mo looked at her lowered eyelashes and the very faint pink scar hidden beneath her bangs.
He reached out and took them.
“All right. I will return them after the exam.”
Shen Qingyue looked up and shot him a quick glance.
That look contained too many things.
It was the concern of a young girl who hesitated to speak.
It was the “good luck” that a top student did not know how to express except through lending notes.
And there was a small, humble expectation that did not dare to ask for a response.
Then she lowered her head, clutched her empty folder, and walked away quickly.
Her skirt hem fluttered slightly in the corridor breeze.
Lin Mo stood where he was, holding the notes that still carried her body heat.
The cover was somewhat worn. Opening the title page, he saw the familiar, neat handwriting:
Physics·Electromagnetism Special Topic Summary
Shen Qingyue
Beside the name was a line of very light, small words written in pencil, as if written for herself:
‘May your pen bring flowers to life.’
Beneath it was a poem:
To a Fellow Candidate
We shared the cold window and the fragrance of ink,
Hoping for both our names to grace the golden list.
With a clear cup of tea, I offer a toast from afar,
As you tread upon the green clouds, the road ahead is long.
Lin Mo looked at it for a long time before he understood.
The poem meant: I have shared the years of study with you, silently wishing for us both to pass and be listed together; I toast you with clear tea, wishing you a brilliant future and a steady rise, as I travel that same fine path with you.
Indeed, this was likely the Study Representative’s Gaokao blessing for both herself and Lin Mo.
—
One day before the Gaokao, evening, the entrance of the neighborhood
Lin Mo finished moving the last box of books and pushed his cart into the neighborhood.
By the delivery lockers, he saw Su Qing.
She was wearing that Squirtle home T-shirt, her hair tied up casually. She leaned against the locker, looking down at her phone. Hearing footsteps, she looked up.
“Yo, busy man.” Her tone was casual, tinged with her usual tsundere flair. “Finished moving?”
“Yeah.”
“Admission ticket, ID card, and stationery bag—are they all ready?”
“They are ready.”
“Is the 2B pencil genuine? The news said someone bought fakes that could not be scanned.”
“…It is genuine.”
“Did you check out the exam site? It takes forty minutes during the morning rush from our neighborhood. Do not oversleep.”
“I checked it. I set five alarms.”
Su Qing seemed like she wanted to say more, but her lips moved and she swallowed her words.
The air was quiet for a few seconds.
The evening wind tousled her hair, and she tucked a strand behind her ear.
“Lin Mo,” she suddenly said, her voice no longer as casual as before.
“Yeah?”
“Do your best.” She did not look at him, her gaze fixed on the delivery locker slots. “After the exam… I have something to tell you.”
Lin Mo’s heart skipped a beat.
He knew what that “something to tell you” was.
Maybe it was a confession, maybe a confrontation, or maybe something else.
But he did not know if he would still be by her side then.
He was silent for two seconds.
“…Okay.”
Su Qing turned her head to look at him. The setting sun dyed half her face a warm orange, and there was a bright light in her eyes.
“You haven’t cheered for me yet,” she said, her voice taking on that familiar, coaxing, tsundere tone. “I cheered for you, so aren’t you going to cheer for me?”
Lin Mo looked at her.
He thought of many years ago, the day of their elementary school graduation, when she waited for him under the sycamore tree.
He thought of all the times over the years she had shown favoritism while acting tough.
He thought of her saying with red eyes, ‘I am afraid you won’t want me anymore.’
He thought of her hugging him and saying, ‘You are mine.’
He thought of that trembling phrase in the voice recorder, ‘This is for Lin Mo’s own good, and for yours too.’
He suppressed all the surging emotions and gave a light smile.
“Su Qing.”
“Yeah?”
“Good luck.”
She was stunned. It was as if she had not expected him to only say those two words—simple and without ornamentation.
But she also smiled.
It was a heartfelt smile, like the one from when they were children.
“That’s more like it.”
She turned and walked toward her building entrance.
After a few steps, she stopped without turning back.
Her voice drifted over:
“Brother, good luck on the exam.”
“Good night.”
Lin Mo stood where he was, watching her figure disappear into the building.
The setting sun sank into the cluster of buildings.
He gripped his backpack straps tightly. Shen Qingyue’s notes lay quietly in the innermost layer of his bag.
—
One day before the Gaokao, late night, three points of light
At Su Qing’s house.
She lay in bed, her phone screen lit up with today’s report.
She hesitated for a long time but did not tap it.
The exam was tomorrow.
She did not want to see it tonight.
She moved the phone away and closed her eyes.
‘Brother, see you after the exam.’
At Shen Qingyue’s house.
She held Qiuqiu and sat at her desk.
The lamp was on, but she was not reading.
The notes were with Lin Mo now.
She traced two words on the desk with her finger, then wiped them away quickly.
Then she turned off the light, held her cat, and lay in the darkness.
‘Good night.’
At Lin Mo’s house.
He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.
Two things were by his pillow: Shen Qingyue’s physics notes on the left, and on the right, the birthday card Su Qing had given him in third grade, which he had just dug out from the bottom of the bookshelf today.
The little yawning figure was still there.
It was crooked and a bit ugly.
He looked at it for a long time.
Then he carefully put the card back in the envelope, placed the notes in the outer layer of his bag, and closed his eyes.
Tomorrow.
After the exam.
Then—
Then he would have to make a choice.
The moonlight outside was quiet.
On the countdown board, the number turned to 0.