Fall - Chapter 2

“When will you be back?”

“I’m not coming back.”

Yue Can left the hotel and sat in her car, her mind drifting. The rain hadn’t stopped; it was coming down even harder now, blurring the scenery and washing away the dust from her memories, gradually bringing them into sharp focus.

That year, she was a senior in high school, still wearing her hair in a high ponytail and dressed in an excessively baggy school uniform. In the throes of rebellion, her relationship with her parents was strained, marked by frequent arguments.

The final winter break of her high school years felt unusually long. The cold air lingered stubbornly, refusing to yield to warmer weather.

Senior year breaks were rarely for rest; they were typically spent in a relentless academic grind. Though Yue Can wasn’t one to participate in this cutthroat competition, she was far from relaxed either.

After a week of intense tutoring, with only three days of winter break remaining, Yue Can finally snapped. She snuck out of the house, gulping down the fresh outdoor air.

“Yue Can!”

Entering a small dessert shop, Yue Can quickly spotted Zhong Ran. Zhong Ran had already ordered Yue Can’s favorite drink and was waving her over.

Zhong Ran was her best friend from class. Apart from academics, they could talk about anything and everything.

“It’s so hard to get you to hang out! What have you been so busy with?”

Yue Can took a sip of her warm milk tea. “Being tortured.”

“Huh?”

“Can you believe I’m studying twelve hours a day now?” Yue Can asked.

Zhong Ran was shocked. She knew Yue Can’s family had hired a tutor, but she hadn’t imagined she was working this hard. “We agreed to slack off together! How could you start grinding behind my back?”

“My mom thinks my grades are embarrassing her, so she hired someone to supervise my studies every day. I even had to sneak out just to meet you.”

“Your mom is really strict,” Zhong Ran said sympathetically. She had met Yue Can’s mother, Tan Ming, a powerful and elite woman with an overwhelming presence. Yue Can, on the other hand, was lazy and carefree, the complete opposite of her mother.

Tan Ming herself had often complained that Yue Can didn’t seem like the kind of daughter she could have raised.

“Oh, right!” Zhong Ran held her phone up to Yue Can’s face, her voice buzzing with excitement. “Look at the latest version of our travel plan! I did so much research—this route is way more efficient and lets us see even more places. What are we going to do? I don’t think two months will be enough for all the fun we want to have. I really want to go to the grasslands too; I heard the photos there are amazing…”

“It’s only February. Isn’t planning our graduation trip a bit early?” Yue Can said, pouring cold water on Zhong Ran’s enthusiasm. She took a bite of her small cake and grumbled, “We should probably focus on the second mock exam after school starts first.”

Zhong Ran couldn’t believe these words were coming from Yue Can. “You’ve only been gone a few weeks, and you’ve already turned into a studyaholic? All you talk about is studying now. We finally get to hang out, can’t we talk about something else? Please?”

Yue Can leisurely picked at the tapioca pearls in her milk tea. “Fine, let’s talk about something else. You go first.”

Yue Can’s words reminded Zhong Ran that their graduation trip was still just a pipe dream, not worth getting excited about yet. She chewed on her straw and asked softly, “Hey, are you really dating that guy from our class?”

Yue Can frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Zhong Ran: “You know, the Vice Class Representative.”

“Absolutely not,” Yue Can said, rolling her eyes. “Besides, I have standards, okay?”

“That’s a relief.” Zhong Ran sighed deeply. As someone with high standards, she’d be heartbroken if her best friend dated someone unattractive. “I didn’t think it was possible either, but the whole class is gossiping about you two.”

Yue Can spat out two words: “Bored idiots.”

At seventeen or eighteen, they were at that sensitive age, obsessed with gossip and stirring up trouble.

Yue Can was outgoing, carefree, and always smiling—the kind of girl who naturally attracted attention from both boys and girls at school. Perhaps because Zhong Ran was openly gay and constantly talked about wanting a “girlfriend,” she wasn’t surprised when a girl confessed her feelings last semester, only politely rejecting her.

“You won’t get called in to see the Old Class Teacher over this, will you? I bet the rumors have already reached his ears.”

“Zhong Ran, shut your crow’s mouth,” Yue Can snapped. She felt she already had enough troubles.

Zhong Ran immediately clamped her lips shut, knowing her words often had a way of bringing bad luck.

The two girls sipped their milk tea and chatted idly, losing track of time until an hour had passed. Seizing the rare moment of leisure, Zhong Ran suggested they visit the nearby arcade.

Yue Can readily agreed. She’d been cooped up at home lately, either studying or doing homework, and was starting to feel suffocated.

Just as they were about to get up, a new WeChat message popped up on Yue Can’s phone.

The sender’s WeChat name was “bwz,” clearly someone too lazy to choose a proper nickname and had simply used the initials of their name.

bwz: Where are you?

Yue Can ignored it.

bwz: You should come home now.

Still pretending not to see it, Yue Can was immediately followed by a phone call. After hesitating for a few seconds, she finally swiped to answer.

Without any greeting, the caller asked softly:

“Where are you?”

Objectively, it was a gentle and pleasant voice, even more melodious than many radio hosts. But the moment Yue Can remembered who was speaking, the voice’s appeal automatically diminished in her mind.

“I’m out with a friend. I have things to do and won’t be home this afternoon.”

The caller replied in the same soft tone, “You can’t. You need to come home now.”

Yue Can gritted her teeth, deciding to lower her guard slightly. She pressed the phone to her ear and pleaded softly, “Just this once, please? Can’t you make an exception?”

There was a noticeable pause on the other end of the line.

Yue Can thought she had a chance.

But the other person responded like an AI robot programmed with a fixed routine: “No. I’ve already scheduled your tutoring for this afternoon. Come back now.”

Yue Can: “……”

I was too naive, she thought. If I ever try to soften up to this person again, I’ll change my last name!

“If you don’t come back immediately, I’ll call your aunt.”

The killer move was always deployed at the perfect moment. Yue Can gritted her teeth and reluctantly replied, “Fine.”

She hung up abruptly.

“Who was that?” Zhong Ran asked. She had initially assumed it was Yue Can’s parents, but the tone of Yue Can’s voice suggested otherwise.

“The woman who torments me daily,” Yue Can replied.

Ah, the tutoring helper, Zhong Ran thought, smiling. “Is it really that dramatic?”

“Never mind. I’m going home now.”

The caller was Bo Wanzhao. From the moment Tan Ming assigned Yue Can to Bo Wanzhao’s supervision, Yue Can knew her easy days were over. Imagine a lazy, underachieving student forced to spend every day with a relentlessly ambitious academic prodigy—it was a living hell.

Yue Can hailed a tax and obediently returned home. Sitting in the back seat, she pressed a hand to her lower abdomen. She had felt fine when she left, but now her period cramps were acting up, making her mood even worse.

Twenty minutes later, she arrived home. Yue Can, always sensitive to the cold, bundled up tightly whenever she went out. But today’s strong winds had still left her cheeks and the tip of her nose frozen red, making her look rather disheveled.

The living room was quiet, save for the soft rustle of turning pages. A slender young woman in a light-colored sweater sat on the sofa, her eyes lowered as she read a book. A pen was in her hand, occasionally scribbling notes or underlining passages.

Hearing footsteps, Bo Wanzhao looked up. She clipped the pen into the book and set it down. “Want to take a break before we start again?”

The house was warmly heated. Yue Can shrugged off her down jacket and, in response to Bo Wanzhao’s question, grunted, “Whatever.” She then strode into the study.

Seeing this, Bo Wanzhao rose and followed her into the study.

The study faced south, offering a view of the river. The sunlight was warm and bright, creating a comfortable atmosphere.

Yue Can slumped into the chair at the desk, her mood sour. After reviewing the material, Bo Wanzhao had her work through practice problems, identifying areas for improvement as usual.

Today, Yue Can was particularly distracted, making the same mistake twice in a row on similar problems. She was already frustrated, yet the voice beside her remained calm and patient:

“Let me explain it again. Try not to make the same mistake.” After the explanation, Bo Wanzhao asked, “Do you understand now?”

“Sort of.”

“Then show me by working through it again.”

Yue Can promptly made the same mistake again. She glanced at Bo Wanzhao, but her expression remained completely neutral. Sometimes, Yue Can couldn’t help but admire Bo Wanzhao. During all their tutoring sessions, Bo Wanzhao had never once lost her temper. She was practically a saint.

From a young age, Yue Can had no natural aptitude for academics. Tan Ming hired numerous tutors for her, but no matter how impressive their resumes seemed, each one eventually reached a breaking point, their patience shattered. Only Bo Wanzhao proved the exception.

To be precise, Bo Wanzhao wasn’t just Yue Can’s tutor; she should have called her “Sister Wanzhao.” Yet, over all these years, Yue Can had never addressed her that way.

After her mother, Tan Ming, achieved business success, she became deeply involved in philanthropy, sponsoring underprivileged girls to complete their education. Having endured hardship herself, Tan Ming understood the immense challenges faced by girls without family support.

Bo Wanzhao was one of the students Tan Ming had sponsored early in her career. But Yue Can could tell that Bo Wanzhao was different from the others. Tan Ming clearly favored her, making exceptions to bring her home and showering her with care.

Yue Can understood why Tan Ming favored Bo Wanzhao. She was the most exceptional student Tan Ming had ever supported—kind-hearted, academically brilliant, ambitious, and reportedly always ranked first in her class. She was exactly the kind of daughter Tan Ming had always dreamed of nurturing.

Yue Can stared at the homework paper as Bo Wanzhao explained the steps, her pen scratching softly against the page. The gentle scent of cleanliness and serenity emanating from the woman beside her lulled Yue Can into a drowsy state. Propping her head up with one hand, she fought desperately to keep her eyelids from drooping.

“Yue Can.”

“Huh?”

“Daydreaming again.”

Bo Wanzhao didn’t look up as she murmured the reminder.

Yue Can was speechless. She glanced at Bo Wanzhao, wondering if the woman had eyes in the back of her head. How could she know Yue Can was daydreaming without even looking at her?

Bo Wanzhao turned her head and noticed Yue Can’s pale complexion. “Feeling unwell?”

Yue Can’s menstrual cramps made it even harder to concentrate. She answered honestly, “It hurts.”

Bo Wanzhao stared at her.

Yue Can stared back. “Really.”

Bo Wanzhao stood up. Moments later, Yue Can saw her return with a steaming cup of brown sugar water. Is this her way of telling me to drink something warm and push through? Yue Can frowned at Bo Wanzhao, her face betraying her frustration.

Yue Can braced herself for Bo Wanzhao to say something insane like, “Just hang in there a little longer.” After all, Bo Wanzhao seemed like the type who would pull all-nighters studying even with debilitating cramps.

“Let’s call it a day. Get some rest.”

Yue Can was both flattered and relieved. Half a day of freedom! She calculated that if she could just endure two more days, once school started, she wouldn’t have to suffer under Bo Wanzhao’s watchful gaze every day. She hated being confined, and Bo Wanzhao felt like Tan Ming’s “artificial surveillance” planted right beside her…

Bo Wanzhao finished tutoring early and left the Yue Family’s home. As a second-year graduate student, she didn’t live on campus and had been renting her own apartment since college. Tan Ming had originally wanted Bo Wanzhao to move in, eliminating the daily commute, but Bo Wanzhao insisted against it. Seeing her determination, Tan Ming didn’t press the matter.

With the holiday break dwindling, Zhong Ran approached Yue Can the next day, asking if they were “besties.” Then, she revealed her true intentions: besties should share homework.

Pulling an all-nighter on the last day was a classic move for academic underachievers. But this time, Yue Can felt confident, thanks to the “genius buff” by her side. Since tutoring was boring anyway, Yue Can simply invited Zhong Ran over to her house.

When Zhong Ran arrived, she caught Bo Wanzhao giving Yue Can instructions.

The two were close and skipped formalities. Yue Can turned to Zhong Ran and said, “The homework’s all here. Share as needed.”

“Remember to finish the assigned problems by next weekend,” Bo Wanzhao said routinely, picking up her bag. “I’ll come over every Saturday and Sunday from now on. I’m leaving now.”

Yue Can called out to her, “My mom wants you to have dinner at our place tonight.”

Bo Wanzhao replied calmly, “No, thank you. Please thank your aunt for me.”

Yue Can had anticipated this.

Zhong Ran turned and met Bo Wanzhao’s gaze. After studying her for a moment, she asked, “Um, Sister… do you tutor?”

Bo Wanzhao nodded. “Yes.”

“Can I add you on WeChat? I’m looking for a tutor too.”

Bo Wanzhao smiled. “I’m fully booked this semester. You should find someone else.”

Zhong Ran looked disappointed. “Oh, okay.”

“We can still add each other,” Bo Wanzhao said, pulling out her phone. Tutoring relied on connections, and connections meant money—something she desperately needed. She’d been tutoring since her freshman year and had a separate WeChat account specifically for students and their parents.

Zhong Ran’s face lit up. She eagerly added Bo Wanzhao as a friend and waved enthusiastically. “Goodbye, Sister!”

After Bo Wanzhao left, Yue Can glared at Zhong Ran and said coldly, “Adding her won’t do you any good. She never posts on her Moments.”

Zhong Ran had a habit of finding excuses to add attractive girls on WeChat, then secretly following their Moments and diligently liking their posts. That’s how she’d initially gotten close to Yue Can too.

“Her voice is so gentle… it’s too sweet!” Zhong Ran exclaimed. After hearing Yue Can’s description yesterday, she had imagined Bo Wanzhao would be a strict and unapproachable person. “No wonder she can study for twelve hours a day with such a beautiful tutor.”

Yue Can asked, “What’s the connection between those things?”

“Of course there’s a connection!” Zhong Ran argued logically. “If someone is good-looking, the visual pleasure can offset some of the pain of studying.”

Yue Can stared blankly. She couldn’t understand Zhong Ran’s logic; for her, the visual pleasure didn’t offset anything at all.

“If I could have a girlfriend like that in the future, that would be amazing. Gentle older sisters are the best…” Zhong Ran had only revealed her sexual orientation to Yue Can, and it was only in Yue Can’s presence that she dared to casually mention “girlfriend” so openly.

Yue Can chuckled. Having known Bo Wanzhao for years, she knew perfectly well that Bo Wanzhao was nothing like the “gentle older sister” Zhong Ran described.

Bo Wanzhao was only outwardly gentle; in reality, she was cold as ice. She might treat you kindly, but she would never let you get close. Yue Can even felt that Bo Wanzhao was the kind of person no one could ever truly love.