The cicadas cried mournfully as the sky was high and clear, and wild geese flew south.
Zhang Qi sat cross-legged on a chair. “I think it’s a water bottle.”
“No, it’s not,” Zheng Su Nian shook his head. “It’s a flashlight.”
Shao Xue took a deep breath, crumpling the draft paper spread out on the floor. “This—is—the—Leaning—Tower of Pisa!”
There were plenty of crumpled papers at her feet, not only depicting unrecognizable landmarks but also clumsy sketches of pizzas. In addition, there was a drawing that Zhang Qi had strained his brain to figure out, which turned out to be tomato noodle soup.
“That’s spaghetti!” Shao Xue completely lost it.
Right, Italy.
As autumn arrived, Shao Xue’s school organized a uniquely themed sports event. The Olympic spirit had swept across every household, and the student council’s sports committee didn’t sit idle. The organizers of the school’s sports day decided on a theme of “A Small Olympics: National Cultural Exhibition,” where each class was assigned a country and had to use all their resources to showcase the culture of their designated country during the opening ceremony.
Shao Xue’s class drew Italy.
The class president allocated a couple hundred yuan from the class fund to buy a long white banner and watercolor paints, instructing Shao Xue, the publicity officer, to freely splash Italian flair across the banner. He said that during the sports day, the classmates would proudly hold the banner above their heads, catching the attention of the judging panel.
But no one expected that Shao Xue, as the publicity officer, had no artistic skills.
“Didn’t your class have anyone else to choose for this job? They picked you?” Zhang Qi frowned. “Singing, dancing, painting, calligraphy—are you good at any of them?”
Shao Xue slumped into her chair, defeated. “When we do the class board, we just cut out materials and paste them on the wall. Who knew I’d have to actually paint this time? Plus, it’s so exhausting. No one in the class wanted to do it, so they shoved it onto me.”
“But your level isn’t good enough to be displayed. Take that noodle soup—oops, I mean spaghetti—it’s a shame about the banner.”
Shao Xue’s eyes wandered around the room and finally landed on Zheng Su Nian.
“Why are you looking at me? I’ve got midterms coming up, I don’t have time for this.”
Seeing Shao Xue completely deflated, slumping in her chair, Zhang Qi and Zheng Su Nian exchanged a look. As if recalling something, Zheng Su Nian nodded slightly, and Zhang Qi scooted over to sit next to Shao Xue.
“Shao Xue, there might still be a way out.”
“What way?” Shao Xue tore the draft paper into tiny pieces. “Are you going to paint for me?”
“You’re close.”
“Stop pulling my leg! I know your art skills. When we were kids, in preschool, you were supposed to draw a family of three. Everyone else drew their parents and themselves, but you drew three circles to avoid drawing people. When the teacher asked, you said it was ‘three mouths,’ and you even used red paint for your mom’s mouth, saying it was lipstick…”
“Enough!” Zhang Qi blushed at her words. “I can get Su Nian to help you.”
Her eyes suspiciously darted between the two boys.
“Why would Su Nian help just because you say so?”
"Don’t worry about it," Zhang Qi said with a look of “this is a matter between men,” adding, "As long as you help me with the signatures, he’ll help you with the drawing."
"How many signatures?"
Sensing a rare opportunity, Zhang Qi went all in: "Forty."
"You’re way too greedy!" Shao Xue jumped up in protest.
And who could blame her for being upset? Zhang Qi’s school had a peculiar love for joint parental supervision—memorizing texts, vocabulary recitation, grade reports, even class dictations—all needed to be reviewed by parents for feedback. Zhang Qi had once been caught forging his mother’s signature, and now, any slight deviation in the handwriting meant his homeroom teacher would call Aunt Han.
Meanwhile, Shao Xue had mastered the art of forging signatures.
She could imitate anyone from Jay Chou and Jolin Tsai to all the uncles and aunties in the restoration department. If she was in a good mood, she’d give Zhang Qi a few free signatures; if not, she’d charge him a hefty fee. Even close friends kept accounts straight, and the two had been competing in wits and mischief since they were young. Zhang Qi had spent half of his pocket money buying snacks and drinks for Shao Xue, and for something as significant as a grade report, he even had to bribe her with KFC and McDonald's.
So, if there was ever a time to exploit this, it was now.
Zheng Su Nian, for his part, looked innocent, as if he weren’t a key player in this deal. Shao Xue’s eyes lingered on the banner for a while before she finally bit her lip and grunted.
"Deal."
Zhang Qi beamed, pulling out a piece of paper from behind his back. "Sign this one first, we’ll save the rest for later."
It was getting late, and Zheng Su Nian planned to start the artwork the next day. As the two boys left Shao Xue’s house, Zhang Qi pulled a box from his pocket—an Anita Mui album.
The tape had the singer’s flamboyant signature scrawled across it.
"So Aunt Jin is a fan of Anita Mui, huh?" Zhang Qi whispered, worried Shao Xue might overhear. "Keep it safe. I had a classmate bring it for me—it’s priceless."
"Her 40th birthday is next month, and my dad and I want to make it special for her." Zheng Su Nian waved it off. "Thanks, this is definitely worth a banner."
"Not a problem," Zhang Qi smirked mischievously. "This also gets me forty signatures—talk about a great deal."
Little did they know, Shao Xue was sitting cross-legged at home, counting her losses on her fingers—
Forty signatures. Her chips, drinks, fried chicken wings…
Zheng Su Nian was truly a professional.
First, he planned, then gathered references, and finally sketched the draft. Shao Xue had borrowed a pile of books on Italian culture from the library, reading aloud, "Italian cuisine has a long-standing history…"
With just a few strokes, Zheng Su Nian sketched the outline of a pizza that was far superior to Shao Xue’s doughy-looking creation.
Soon, she fell silent, standing quietly beside him, watching as he drew. The scarred Colosseum, Venice’s winding canals, and the spires of Milan Cathedral pierced the top of the banner, standing tall on the far right.
"Su Nian, you’re really talented," she sincerely praised.
"Just copying pictures—there are plenty of references," Zheng Su Nian shrugged modestly. "I’m still nowhere near as good as my mom."
Shao Xue crouched down, touching the dried paint of Venice. "I’d love to see it in person."
"Yeah," he replied, "I heard the water levels in Venice are rising. In a few decades, it might disappear."
"Disappear?" she was surprised. "That’s such a shame. Such a beautiful place, and soon it’ll be gone."
"That’s why they say life is short," Zheng Su Nian said while coloring the cathedral doors. "If there’s something you want to do, you better get to it—wait too long, and it’ll be too late."
She nodded earnestly.
Life is short, and experience is precious. Shao Xue never imagined she’d soon have a life experience like no other.
When the head of discipline called her in, her heart was racing.
She racked her brain, trying to recall if she’d done anything outrageous recently, but nothing came to mind. Nervous, she walked into the office, where the head of discipline’s computer screen displayed a large photo.
"Shao Xue, is this your class’s creative design for the sports event?"
"Huh?"
Seeing her confusion, the head of discipline patted her shoulder. "It’s excellent, perfectly aligned with the theme of this year’s sports day. Reporters from the city are coming to cover the event, and we’ve decided to feature your class. You’ll represent the class and talk about this creative concept!"
Shao Xue stammered, "N-no, teacher, I didn’t draw this, it was my neighbor…"
"Neighbor or brother, doesn’t matter," the head waved it off. "Just follow the script we wrote, add some thoughts on creating the banner, and you’ll be fine."
She swallowed nervously.
The head of discipline seemed to be in an exceptionally good mood today. Seeing Shao Xue’s frightened expression, he even offered some encouragement: "We also considered the creators’ personal attributes. You’re definitely the most photogenic."
"Teacher, I’ll do it!"
Shao Xue immediately accepted with determination. After all, she had clear articulation, and if it was about showcasing the class’s creativity, who better than her to be on camera?
The news spread faster than Shao Xue could have imagined. By the end of the afternoon, everyone in the alley knew she was going to be on TV, largely thanks to Yu Dong Ge’s enthusiastic publicity. As Shao Xue left the house, she ran into Zhang Qi, who looked at her with confusion. "Shao Xue, I heard you’re going to be on the Spring Festival Gala?"
Shao Xue swore she had no idea how the news got twisted like that.
The reporters arrived on the day of the sports event, and Shao Xue’s class, chosen as the highlight, was full of enthusiasm during training. Especially Shao Xue—she recited her 400-word script dozens of times a day, and at night, her sleep talk consisted of the words "upholding the Olympic spirit" over and over again.
The Friday before the sports day, Shao Xue snuck out of the house, hiding from Yu Dong Ge and Shao Hua.
Zhang Qi was waiting outside for her. His school had a closed-campus system, and students were only let out on Fridays for the weekend. Since his school was far away, he would pass by a department store on his way home, so Shao Xue gave him money to buy a set of makeup.
Zhang Qi was even more cautious than she was, hiding in the shadows by the wall, pulling items out of his bag one by one. Shao Xue’s school uniform jacket had large pockets, so she stuffed each item in as he handed them over, inspecting them as she went: "What brand is this foundation?"
"Some off-brand," Zhang Qi lied without missing a beat.
"Off-brand? What are you, buying a computer?" she grumbled. "Couldn’t you have gotten me something decent?"
Shao Xue carefully tucked the eyeliner and mascara into her pockets as well. Zhang Qi frowned, "You only gave me so little money. Where was I supposed to get something high quality? You’re only using it once, so just slap it on your face and make do."
Finally, he handed over a tube of lipstick. Shao Xue, with her pockets now bulging, ducked back into her house.
Of course, mothers always know. Yu Dong Ge immediately sensed something was off: "What were you up to?"
Shao Xue quickly raised her head: "Nothing, just went out for some fresh air."
Her mother gave her a suspicious look, scanning her from head to toe, but eventually let her go to her room.
Once inside, Shao Xue locked the door, pulled out a small mirror, and dumped the makeup Zhang Qi had bought onto the table. Yu Dong Ge was strict when it came to vanity, acting as if any sign of Shao Xue wanting to dress up was a signal of an early romance. Makeup? Not a chance. Last time, a classmate had painted her nails, and Yu Dong Ge scolded her furiously.
But this time, she was going to be on TV.
Shao Xue had never tried makeup before and had no one to guide her. She applied the foundation thickly, making her face look like a white wall. The lipstick was too bright, and with her mouth open, it looked like a gaping red maw.
Just as she was stressing over the mess, Yu Dong Ge called her to dinner. In a panic, Shao Xue wet a napkin and frantically wiped her face, as if she were scrubbing a table. She was in such a rush that she didn’t even notice the slight stinging sensation on her skin.
Monday was the sports day. With plenty of time before the parade, Shao Xue and her class’s cultural committee member, Zhao Xinran, slipped into the restroom.
The restroom was mostly empty at this time, with the rousing march music playing on the field outside. The two of them whispered over a bag of makeup. Zhao Xinran, who had mastered twelve different eyebrow-drawing techniques by the age of thirteen, looked at Shao Xue’s face with some concern, holding the foundation in hand.
"What happened to your face?"
"It’s a little red," Shao Xue said, touching her face. "The reporters are coming soon. Just do the makeup."
Skilled hands make a difference. With a few clever touches, Zhao Xinran managed to cover up all the flaws on Shao Xue’s face. Her lips were bright, her teeth gleaming, and her eyebrows sharp. She even skillfully added some inner eyeliner.
"Natural makeup," Zhao Xinran, the class’s top makeup artist, said proudly. "No one will even notice."
No one, except for the grade director.
Her own makeup skills might not have been great, but she had a sharp eye for spotting students with makeup. Shao Xue had barely finished delivering her lines to the camera, smiling brightly, when the director yanked her aside.
"School rules don’t allow makeup. You’ve got guts." The director shoved her into the restroom. "Wash it off before you come out."
Shao Xue, always bold, retorted, "This is how you treat someone after using them?"
"Using you? You’re lucky I’m not giving you a demerit!"
As the water splashed in the restroom, Shao Xue grumbled, "I was just trying to represent the school’s image, what’s so wrong with putting on a little makeup?" But as she spoke, her face began to sting as if pricked by needles.
Looking up, she saw her face in the mirror—red, as if burned.
The school restroom didn’t have hot water. The cold water made her skin hurt even more, and she started to panic.
The program aired on Friday.
That day, the restoration department finished work early. Several families gathered in front of their TVs, waiting for Shao Xue’s interview—though the person herself was lying limp on the sofa, wearing a face mask.
She hadn’t been to school for four days.
Her face had broken out in a severe allergic reaction, and afraid that Yu Dong Ge would find out about her secret makeup use, she had rushed home to hide in her room, pretending to be absorbed in homework. She refused to come out even for meals, claiming she was too focused on her studies.
The next morning, she was woken up by the pain. Her once pretty little face had swelled up like a pig’s head.
Yu Dong Ge was so worried that she skipped work, dragging Shao Xue to the hospital’s dermatology department. The doctor diagnosed it as a chemical allergy, saying it would clear up in about a week, but there was no guarantee her face would fully recover.
At that, Shao Xue burst into tears.
The doctor slammed the table, "Stop crying! Tears will irritate your skin even more!"
Shao Xue immediately fell silent, terrified.
Yu Dong Ge eventually found out about her secret makeup use and was so furious that she packed up all the hidden nail polish, bracelets, and makeup in Shao Xue’s room and threw them in the trash. The doctor had also warned against eating spicy or stimulating foods, so from that day forward, Shao Xue didn’t touch any meat.
By the time her interview was set to air, she was still slumped listlessly in front of the TV.
"Don’t blame your mother for not letting you eat meat," Shao Hua, ever the comforting father, said as he peeled an apple beside her. "Fish makes you feverish, meat makes you phlegmy. Vegetables keep you safe. With your condition, a vegetarian diet is best."
"Easy for you to say," Shao Xue grumbled. "But could you at least not eat duck necks in front of me next time?"
Shao Hua looked a little sheepish. "I’m a grown man. I can’t be eating vegetarian every day with you two. Besides, I was raiding the fridge at midnight. You just happened to catch me; can’t blame me for that."
The TV blared its opening music, and Shao Xue perked up a little, her eyes glued to the screen.
Meanwhile, both Zhang Qi and Zheng Su Nian’s families had their TVs tuned in.
"Shao Xue said you helped her paint that banner?" Zheng Jin asked his son while peeling an orange for Jin Ning.
"No, I just helped her with the draft."
"Which interview is she in?" Jin Ning leaned forward, extra focused. "Shao Xue should look great on camera. That girl’s getting prettier by the day."
"She used to look like Shao Hua, but now she looks like Dong Ge—of course, she’s getting prettier," Zheng Jin joked, showing no mercy to his old colleague from the restoration department. "If she still looked like Shao Hua, that’d be a disaster."
Suddenly, from the alley came the loud sound of Shao Hua’s sneeze, and at the same time, Shao Xue’s class flashed across the TV screen.
After being miserable for most of the week, Shao Xue finally brightened up. The reporter, holding the microphone with a vibrant smile, described the scene on the field to the viewers, first interviewing the principal.
"Next up is me," Shao Xue said excitedly. "They only interviewed the principal and me. I’m definitely next."
...
"Isn’t it almost Shao Xue’s turn?" Jin Ning, no longer interested in her orange, stared unblinkingly at the screen. "The principal sure can talk."
The two fathers also sat up straighter.
...
"As the Olympic Games draw nearer, our entire society is working hard to welcome its arrival. This school sports day has already shown the students’ enthusiasm for the Olympics. Let us extend our warm hands, let the world feel the brilliance of Chinese civilization, and feel the passion of the Chinese people!"
The reporter cheerfully delivered the final line, and the camera abruptly cut back to the studio. The well-dressed anchor spoke clearly: "And now for other news…"
The room fell silent.
Shao Xue’s mouth dropped open, her mask shifting slightly with her lips.
"He… he didn’t air your part?" Yu Dong Ge still hadn’t grasped the situation.
"They must’ve cut it," Shao Hua reacted quickly. "Time constraints, probably edited out during post-production."
"Then why did they even interview me?!" Shao Xue jumped up, kicking the wardrobe in frustration. But the kick hurt her toes, and tears instantly welled up in her eyes.
Her face had an allergic reaction, her interview was cut, and all her hidden items had been thrown out by Yu Dong Ge. Shao Xue stormed around the room before finally bursting into tears and running out the door.
"Don’t follow her," Shao Hua stopped Yu Dong Ge. "Let her cry it out. She’ll feel better afterward."
Her mother was at a loss. The phone rang loudly in the living room, and she picked it up, endlessly explaining to the relatives she had notified earlier: “Yes, there was supposed to be… they did interview her, but it got cut. Yeah, they interviewed her earlier…”
...
Jin Ning held an orange in her hand, but she hadn’t eaten it for a long time.
“What’s going on?”
“Oh, our TV must not be working properly,” she suddenly seemed to understand. “I’ve noticed a double image when watching dramas recently, so it must have been a signal problem… we probably missed a part.”
“It was cut,” Zheng Su Nian said plainly, his mind clear. “They filmed so much material for the show; it’s not like they can use everything.”
Having sat inside for too long, he put on his jacket and went outside for some fresh air. As soon as he stepped out, he saw Shao Xue running out, crying.
Zheng Su Nian’s legs were long. While Shao Xue ran ahead and he walked slowly behind, the two of them didn’t stray too far apart in the three minutes that followed. Watching as she found a step to sit on and cry, Zheng Su Nian casually strolled over.
He crouched down.
Shao Xue’s face was half-covered by her mask, with only her red, tearful eyes visible. He reached out to remove the straps behind her ears, but she slapped his hand away.
“Stop crying,” he said helplessly. “Doesn’t your face hurt from all those tears?”
Shao Xue wiped her eyes.
“It does.”
“Take off the mask and let me see,” he coaxed, still crouching. “Keeping it on like that all the time will only make it heal slower.”
For once, Shao Xue was economical with her words.
“Ugly.”
“Haven’t I seen you at your worst? You used to have snot running down your face all the time when we were kids, and I still played with you. Now you’ve got an allergic reaction, and you won’t even show me your face?”
Shao Xue thought for a moment and, realizing he was right, obediently took off her mask.
Zheng Su Nian was momentarily stunned—it was indeed quite serious.
He pulled out a tissue and handed it to Shao Xue to wipe her face, then sat down beside her, holding her mask.
“Why are you crying?”
“What do you think?” Her voice was quiet, as if she couldn’t bear to face anyone. “So many people knew I had an interview and that I’d be on TV, but they didn’t even air my part. It’s so embarrassing…”
“Who cares? By next week, I guarantee everyone will have forgotten about it.”
“Really?” Shao Xue looked up at him.
“And even if you weren’t on TV, aren’t you still Shao Xue?” He ruffled her hair. “Zhang Qi and I have known you for so long; do you think we’d laugh at you over some silly interview? Aunt Yu and Uncle Shao are still your parents, and my mom and dad still treat you like their own daughter. As for what other people think—those who are barely connected to you—why bother caring about them?”
Shao Xue thought about it and realized he was right.
But there was still one thing bothering her.
After hesitating for a long time, her skin feeling dry in the autumn breeze, she touched her face and anxiously said, “But what about my face? What if it doesn’t get better?”
She looked up at the sky, watching the geese flying south, her expression wistful.
“If it doesn’t heal, who would ever want me…?”
Zheng Su Nian couldn’t help but laugh.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” He stood up, grabbed her by the collar, and lifted her to her feet. “Are you seriously worried about not getting married?”
“Yeah.”
“Fine then,” he said, standing directly in front of her. “If it ever comes to that, I’ll marry you.”
In the distance, the calls of street vendors echoed through the air.
Nearby, the autumn wind rustled the fallen leaves.
The fifteen-year-old boy stood with his hands in his school jacket pockets, a slight smile on his lips, his gaze lowered. “If no one else will marry you, I will. How about that?”
Shao Xue, startled, sneezed from the cold and hurriedly ran home in a bit of a panic.
“You feel better now?”
“N-no!” she stammered, and just as the words left her mouth, she tripped over a hole in the ground.
The doctor hadn’t lied to her. A week later, the allergic reaction on Shao Xue’s face started to fade, and by two weeks, her skin had returned to normal. Zhang Qi bought a plastic bag full of snacks to apologize, his remorse almost as dramatic as a scene from an ancient tale of atonement.
“I really didn’t think the makeup would be that bad,” he said miserably. “I didn’t have enough money to buy it from a department store, so I bought it from a street vendor. I honestly didn’t expect your face to have an allergic reaction.”
Shao Xue didn’t say a word, her face hidden behind a mask, her eyes looking at Zhang Qi with a pitiful expression.
The more she looked at him like that, the guiltier Zhang Qi felt. He pulled out a bag of chips from the plastic bag and opened it for her.
“Whatever you want, just say it. I’ll agree to anything.”
Her mask shifted slightly as her lips moved, and she glared at him, saying slowly and clearly: “All the signatures I owe you are canceled!”
Shao Xue was someone who could easily cheer up. Thinking about how she could once again use her signature-forging skills to get free snacks, she momentarily forgot the pain from her allergic reaction.
Once her skin had mostly recovered, Yu Dong Ge took her to the mall.
“What are we buying?” Shao Xue asked, a bit surprised.
“What do you want to buy?” Her mother’s tone was unusually gentle.
Shao Xue hesitated for a long time, thinking this might be a trap. To her surprise, Yu Dong Ge smiled awkwardly.
“I never knew how to use any of this stuff,” Yu Dong Ge glanced over at the cosmetics counters on the first floor. “And because of that, I never taught you how to dress up either. Now that I think about it, you’re old enough to care about your appearance. Rather than letting you secretly use low-quality products, it’s better to buy you some good ones.”
She led Shao Xue to a counter and cautiously asked the sales assistant, “Miss, I’d like to buy some foundation and lipstick for my daughter, and maybe a few skincare products. What do you recommend?”
Shao Xue suddenly felt like crying.
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