Campus

In the days that followed, we continued walking home together after school. As usual, I stayed in the classroom studying quietly until a quarter past nine. The number of classmates left was sparse, with only the soft rustling of pen tips on paper filling the room. I gently packed my bag and then rose to walk toward the next classroom. Standing at the door, I reached out and softly tapped the window. Soon enough, Lingquan looked up, a flicker of delight shining in her eyes, then quickly gathered her belongings.

We walked side by side down the empty stairwell, our footsteps echoing. Sometimes, Lingquan bounded down the stairs two steps at a time like a lively fawn, then paused at the corner with a smile, waiting for me to catch up. Other times, we slowed our pace, simply strolling step by step, savoring this rare moment of tranquility. Along the way, we chatted casually—topics ranging from teachers’ lecture styles to the day’s dictation, from vexing homework problems to interesting books we had read outside school, even sharing strange bits of trivia that made us laugh heartily despite seeming useless. Though the walk was short, the time seemed stretched, filled with warmth and ease.

On Tuesdays, I was on duty; Fridays, it was Lingquan’s turn. On those days, we tacitly agreed to take the trash to the garbage shed together. The shed sat in a corner of the campus, surrounded by a few tall, leafy trees, lending the spot an unusual calm. No one complained about the extra chore because it meant a few more minutes together, a few more words exchanged.

“I heard the trash bin of a class can reflect its economic status,” Lingquan said suddenly, curiosity in her eyes.

“But... mostly it’s filled with scrap paper. There’s quite a bit of hair too,” I replied, carrying the big garbage bag in one hand while scratching my head with the other, chuckling helplessly.

“Then—maybe it reflects the academic situation of the class!” Lingquan teased, winking mischievously.

“Actually... I once found little notes with love letters inside...” I admitted shyly, recalling those clumsy yet heartfelt scribbles and feeling a peculiar warmth.

“What were they saying—Hey, so you like rummaging through trash bins! You’re that kind of person!” Lingquan looked at me, full of playful mockery.

“They said things like ‘My darling xxx’ and so on. I don’t really get it... No, I don’t like digging through trash. It’s just a habit—I pick up little notes here and there, like picking up fallen leaves. I don’t want those words to be ruined in the garbage bin,” I hurried to explain, earnest in my eyes.

“Oh...” Lingquan gazed thoughtfully at the ginkgo trees lining the avenue. A gentle autumn breeze stirred, and golden leaves fluttered down like butterflies, falling at our feet and crunching softly, as if telling one story after another about the campus.

During midterm exams, the atmosphere on campus grew tense. On the first day, the tests were Chinese, Biology, and Politics. Students arrived early at the examination rooms, which were thick with nervous energy, filled only with the scratching of pens on papers and the faint sound of pages turning. The second day brought Physics, History, and Mathematics—tougher subjects that made everyone furrow their brows, struggling with each question as if Lu Xun, Newton, Avogadro, cells, functions, isobars, and socialism with Chinese characteristics were all battling fiercely inside their minds. The third day was Chemistry, Geography, and English. Despite having already endured two days, no one relaxed; the pressure remained. Still, exams had their perks: no need to wake up early as usual, no evening study sessions, and homework was temporarily suspended. It felt more like a holiday than a test, a strange mix of ease and anxiety that left one somewhat dazed.

Finally, after hastily writing the last word of my English essay, I handed in my paper. Haah—done. I exhaled deeply, feeling a wave of relief. Not rushing back to review, I glanced at the time—it was only 4:30 in the afternoon, with clear skies and bright sunshine. Honestly, it was perfect weather for an autumn outing, though regrettably, it was spent on exams.

Suddenly, I remembered Lingquan’s exam room was in Classroom 13 on the second floor, as she had told me before. “Why not wander around a bit together?” I thought, hoisting my bag and bounding down the stairs two steps at a time, eager to reach Classroom 13. Peeking inside, I saw Lingquan still seated, staring blankly at the ceiling, as if lost in thought.

“Hey!” I quietly circled behind her and called out loudly, trying to break the dull mood.

“I knew it was you—I heard your footsteps,” Lingquan turned toward me with a resigned look but a trace of happiness in her eyes.

“Darn.” I muttered softly, hoping to surprise her but got caught anyway.

“I checked answers at noon... I messed up Chinese again...” Lingquan gloomily propped herself up from her seat, showing a hint of frustration. “I got three multiple-choice questions wrong... Mom’s definitely going to scold me to death. Math and English just aren’t that different either...”

“Uh... let’s not talk about exams! Want some chocolate?” I quickly pulled out a bar of Dove chocolate I bought from the supermarket near school and broke off a piece for her, hoping to lift her spirits.

“Thanks.” Lingquan took the chocolate, biting gently. A flicker of gratitude lit her eyes.

“It’s still early. Want to hang out for a bit... though I haven’t decided where to go... Well, if you’re not in a rush to go home,” I said expectantly, hoping to spend more time with her.

“Eh? Sure, it’s Wednesday anyway. My mom should still be teaching at this hour—at least another hour before she’s done,” Lingquan looked up, a sparkle of delight in her eyes.

“She’s a teacher?” I asked curiously.

“Middle school math teacher at Second Middle School in the suburbs,” Lingquan replied.

“No wonder you’re so good at math,” I smiled.

“No, not really,” Lingquan lowered her head shyly.

“How about we just wander around school? It’s been over two months since the term started, and there are still many corners I haven’t explored... Sometimes I even get lost here,” I suggested, filled with curiosity about the campus’s hidden spots.

“Ha ha ha, really?” Lingquan couldn’t help but laugh, her voice echoing through the classroom, dispelling some of the earlier gloom.

“Compared to my middle school, this place is huge—at least two or three times bigger. There’s the cafeteria, the lab building, the main building, the senior one, two, and three floors, the international department, the library, the gym, the big playground...” I counted off on my fingers, excitedly introducing the campus’s various buildings. “I’d never seen anything like this before high school. Our district library isn’t even as big as Jianglin’s school library. —By the way, where was your middle school?”

“Zeling Middle School. It’s considered a prestigious school with a high advancement rate. My family sold our old house to pay off some debts and bought a nearby school district house—an old place, cold in winter, hot in summer, musty, with plumbing that often broke. Then I got selected into some so-called ‘talent development class.’ Except for longer self-study hours and extra tutoring, I didn’t really see how it made me more talented,” Lingquan’s expression turned distant as she sighed softly and shook her head. “Sorry, it’s not really nice to say this... But well, I’m only telling you.”

We stood between the teaching buildings, gazing at the paths before us, somewhat lost. “Which way should we go...?”

“Just pick a direction,” Lingquan said, pulling out a coin, balancing it on her fingertip, then flicking it up and catching it nimbly. “Heads, go right.”

We followed the path to the right, arriving at the senior three building. Tossing the coin again, “Heads, right.” This time, we reached the ginkgo avenue.

“Uh... here we can go left, right, or straight...” I hesitated.

“Then let’s toss twice. Heads-heads, heads-tails, tails-heads, tails-tails means we toss again. —Tails, heads, go straight,” Lingquan decided decisively.

“What if we keep getting tails-tails?” I asked, worried.

“Then there’s nothing we can do. Who said 2^n isn’t divisible by 3,” Lingquan replied with a laugh, showing a mix of helplessness and playfulness.

Beyond here, there were no more forks—the path ended at the playground.

“Is this the end?” I said disappointedly. “I thought we’d end up in some strange place we’ve never been, like a small grove or the infirmary.”

“That’s why some say coin tosses don’t make the decision for you. At the moment you toss the coin, you already know whether you want heads or tails,” Lingquan mused, her eyes deep and thoughtful.

“...But since we’re here, perfect... we haven’t had PE for a few days. Let’s go for a run,” she said, taking off her sports jacket and tossing it over the railing, starting to warm up with stretches and leg kicks.

At that moment, it was class time, and there were no PE classes scheduled on the playground yet. The vast field was just the two of us. The silence around was so complete that I could only hear the distant sounds of lessons, the crisp birdsong from the trees, and the rhythmic breathing of the girl beside me. The red rubber track gleamed brightly under the sun as we ran lap after lap, gradually forgetting all worries. Even our footsteps synced, as if our heartbeats beat in unison at that moment.

In the clear sky, a few contrails occasionally streaked across, mysterious traces left by planes.

The bell for the third period’s end rang, and classes slowly began arriving for activity lessons.

“Let’s stop here for today—running with someone is really nice,” Lingquan slowed down, moving to the railing to stretch, her face content.

“Have you ever thought... you could become one of those... ‘national first-class athletes’...” I said between breaths, a smile on my face.

“Math competitions? That’s what my mom wants...” Lingquan looked at me puzzled.

“No no no, not academic competitions...” I couldn’t help laughing. “I mean... ‘National Level One Athlete,’ shortened to NLA, ha ha ha ha...”

Lingquan looked at me with an expression that said, “I’m speechless,” then burst out laughing as well.

“Alright then, a path I never imagined... Fine, if I can’t get NLA in math competitions, I’ll try for it in sports,” she joked half-seriously.

“Really?” I looked at her, surprised.

“...Don’t know. Just kidding. If I’m not beaten to death by then, it’ll be a miracle. What could I possibly compete for?” Lingquan gazed at the sky, a hint of helplessness and confusion in her eyes.

Evening glow crept slowly across the clear sky. The once pure white clouds, stirred by the breeze, gradually dispersed and took on hues of red, orange, yellow, and purple, blending into a beautiful painting.

“Long smoke clears away...” I looked up, captivated by the scene, and found myself reciting.

“But few idlers... like the two of us,” Lingquan softly continued, her voice gentle and melodic.

“‘Idlers’? ...Tomorrow there’s still...” I wanted to say there were dictations, reviewing tests, weekend math competition homework, but seeing Lingquan’s relaxed expression, I swallowed my words.

“Who cares,” Lingquan closed her eyes and gently leaned her head on my shoulder—at first lightly, tentatively, as if afraid I’d pull away any moment; then gradually, she rested her whole head. My hands awkwardly intertwined, but a strange warmth welled up inside me—though I had never been comfortable with others’ touch before, always stiffly avoiding hand-holding or hugging, whenever Lingquan leaned on me, I felt no aversion. Rather, I wished time would freeze in this moment.

Just rest on me peacefully—no need to carry a knife for protection, no need to run alone on a path no one understands, no need to worry about meaningless rankings or parental pressure... Even though I’m useless compared to you, knowing nothing but solving problems and drawing... Still, please... rest on me peacefully.

For a moment, this thought filled me with a quiet resolve and tenderness.