BSS CH 12

Listen to the Wind

Strictly speaking, Cheng Jing saw Liang Jingmin again at the grade meeting at the end of the first year of high school.

The early summer sky stretched out like a curtain, setting a season that felt both dull and romantic.

The parent-teacher meeting always carried a mix of different perfumes, creating an atmosphere like a counterfeit exhibition. The participants either felt pleased or dissatisfied with treasures that didn’t truly belong to them.

At this time, Cheng Jing had just survived the rigorous selection for the competition group, and, with some luck in the final exam, he secured first place in the grade.

Defending the top grade position at a key high school is challenging, and luck often plays a greater role. Cheng Jing felt more surprised than proud, but his mother beamed with joy. She held his arm, strolling through the campus with a bright smile, as if visiting a Grand View Garden.

Cheng Jing’s mother is gentle and graceful. Anyone who had seen her could understand why Cheng Jing developed such a polite and mild demeanor. However, most of Cheng Jing’s stubbornness came from her as well. She never showed him leniency due to his health issues. She pushed him into competitions, piano lessons, multiple eye surgeries, and the entrance exam for a prestigious high school. Cheng Jing’s life, in every sense, began with her.

As they passed through the school gate, an impressive car stopped at the wide main entrance. Liang Jingmin, carrying a school bag, got out with his father, who wore a suit.

Until then, Cheng Jing hadn’t known that Liang Jingmin’s parents never attended parent-teacher meetings, usually sending a tutor in their place.

Cheng Jing didn’t know why his father attended that day or why he arrived in such a luxury car. But the scene drew the attention of almost everyone passing by, Cheng Jing included.

However, what he noticed first wasn’t Liang Jingmin or his stern-looking father, but another gaze fixed intently on him.

The gaze came from a gloomy-looking boy sitting in the lowered car window. He looked younger, wearing a Western-style uniform from an international school. He resembled Liang Jingmin; they both had a melancholy look when they lowered their eyes, marking them as brothers.

Yet, his eyes weren’t those of an ordinary teenager. He looked at Cheng Jing from head to toe, as if assessing some unique prey. Cheng Jing felt uneasy under his gaze and quickly walked away with his mother.

There were bruises on Liang Jingmin’s body.

Cheng Jing frowned slightly, recalling the faint scar on Liang Jingmin’s forehead from the fireworks night. He felt that this wasn’t merely a coincidence.

Much later, he never witnessed Liang Jingmin’s father mistreating his children firsthand. He only overheard the secret from a classmate and, years later, pieced it together with the scars on Liang Jingmin’s body.

In his second year, Cheng Jing and Liang Jingmin were officially assigned to the same class. No. 1 Middle School’s classes were packed with top contestants. Liang Jingmin was in physics, a different group, so they rarely interacted.

Contestants lived differently from regular students. Everyone was busy, and conversations were limited to what was necessary. At their level, even the class teachers and coaches struggled to teach effectively. Many of the coaches were exceptional former students, coming in to set and correct weekly tests.

Yuecheng was often rainy, and though No. 1 Middle School’s campus was small, its buildings were densely packed. The sky felt like a cage enclosing everything. Only in those brief moments looking up could one experience a bit of freedom.

During a winter self-study session, only one classroom in the teaching building was occupied after the break. The afternoon rain had left a mist rising against the sky, as though it were burning.

The classroom buzzed; students grabbed food from the gate before heading off in pairs. Soon, only a few students remained, either busy with work or skipping dinner to stay in shape.

Cheng Jing took the opportunity to slip out the back door, planning to head to the rooftop and watch the sunset.

The school’s rooftop, typically locked, had recently been left open for no reason. Cheng Jing was the first to discover this and claimed it as his secret spot.

Just as he was about to go up, a voice stopped him: “Cheng Jing.”

He froze, then turned around.

Liang Jingmin stood holding a sheet of paper filled with words, his expression softer than usual as he smiled and said, “So, this is where you go.”

Cheng Jing was already aware of his growing gaze on Liang Jingmin, but he had tried to mask it by pretending indifference. Naturally introverted, he didn’t realize his behavior had become excessively cold—a trait Liang Jingmin would later dislike.

Cheng Jing raised an eyebrow. “What do you need?”

“Are you preparing this week’s chemistry test?” Liang Jingmin asked. Cheng Jing nodded. It was a dull, barren conversation.

“The physics test is ready,” Liang Jingmin continued, “and we’ve finished the math one too. I just picked up the biology questions from Su Sihan. Let’s go to the print shop together at 6:30. Are you free?”

After completing their weekly tests, groups would customarily go together to print them. The girl, Su Sihan, was on sick leave, so Cheng Jing and Liang Jingmin went together.

Cheng Jing, though, was thinking about the sunset on the rooftop and, wary of being alone with Liang Jingmin, suggested tentatively, “I planned to watch the sunset at 6:30. Would 6:45 be okay?”

Speaking softly, he seemed to want to disappear into the background, but the narrow corridor revealed his every thought.

Liang Jingmin’s impatience showed as he replied, “Why do you go to the rooftop every day?”

Caught off guard, Cheng Jing blurted out, “I just… like listening to the wind.”

With a casual tone, Liang Jingmin responded, “It’s nice out; I want to see the sunset, too. Take me along.”

Cheng Jing hesitated, but by the time he gathered his thoughts, Liang Jingmin had climbed several steps and looked back. The changing sunlight cast a warm glow over him.

“You coming or not?”

Cheng Jing gave in, and it turned into the longest conversation between them, from dusk until the final shades of twilight faded.

That evening, Cheng Jing learned that Liang Jingmin was originally from Xijing, but his mother had grown up in Yuecheng and attended No. 1 Middle School herself.

Yuecheng was nationally known for its competition training programs. Despite his father’s objections, Liang Jingmin had secretly registered for an entrance exam to No. 1 Middle School, forsaking the high school entrance exam in Xijing, risking it all for a chance at Yuecheng’s elite school.

He mentioned that he’d taken the train between Xijing and Yuecheng twenty-one times, passing a glimmering river each time.

Liang Jingmin’s extreme determination struck Cheng Jing deeply, but what lingered in his mind was the calmness with which he spoke of his past, as if it belonged to someone else.

Fumbling for words, Cheng Jing asked, “You said your mom’s from Yuecheng. Does she live here now?”

Liang Jingmin paused. In the fading light, a spark lingered in his eyes as he replied, “No, she passed away a long time ago. I don’t even remember what she looked like anymore.”

…

The winter passed quickly, and Cheng Jing didn’t get a chance to talk with Liang Jingmin like that again.

With the arrival of spring, everyone plunged into intense competition. Cheng Jing, exhausted, had little energy left for others. He heard that Liang Jingmin had earned a CPhO gold medal, qualifying for the national training team and essentially securing university admission.

Happy for him, Cheng Jing pushed himself harder, hoping they’d meet again on campus, free to connect without reservation.

However, this hope turned to sorrow when Cheng Jing failed his admission.

He swallowed medication, had his stomach pumped, and stayed hospitalized for a long time. His already fragile body rebelled against his neglect of his health and life.

Cheng Jing felt guilty only when he saw his weary parents by his bedside, yet his despair was hard to control.

Before he turned eight, his whole world had been blurry. He could only see by pressing his face close to the textbook—a pain inflicted by his unique violet eyes.

After countless surgeries, he gained decent vision and began seeing the world through his parents’ guidance.

At seventeen, he quietly fell for a boy. They first met in the rainy season and exchanged glances under the fireworks, so when Cheng Jing lay in bed, tubes running into his body, he found himself hoping to see Liang Jingmin once more.

Cheng Jing survived, proving his life’s resilience, but when he returned to the classroom, Liang Jingmin was gone.

Disappearing without a trace, Cheng Jing searched for answers, only to find none. Eventually, he overheard his teachers lamenting that, due to his father’s insistence, Liang Jingmin had left for a foreign university.

One day, Cheng Jing overheard the head teacher and other teachers talking, mentioning that Liang Jingmin’s father was firmly opposed to him studying for an undergraduate degree in China. He had forced him to return to Xijing to apply for a foreign university.

The teachers’ tone was one of disappointment, helplessness, and confusion. They likely thought that if Liang Jingmin could successfully enter Beijing University, it would have greatly enhanced No. 1 Middle School’s reputation. But he had given up at the last minute, and the top resources No. 1 Middle School had devoted to him over the years had yielded little in the end.

After their conversation, the teachers left for home, leaving Cheng Jing alone to process this revelation—that his secret love had ended in vain.

In that moment, Cheng Jing suddenly understood that, to someone who didn’t love him back, the romantic hues of sunsets and fireworks were not enough to make them stay. Such cheap romance was like a disposable trinket, something to be used once and tossed aside.

Without a single goodbye, the first person he had ever loved had vanished completely from his life.