Unbearable - Chapter 1

Chapter 1: “Did I never tell you that you’re not my biological daughter?”

The northern August was unbearably hot. The sun had been blazing down for over half a month without a break. Behind the teaching building, the cicadas in the small grove screamed relentlessly under the searing sunlight.

Class was about to start. Students hurried by, keeping to the shade. But when their eyes swept past someone at the side of the teaching building, they all paused for a beat.

The morning light was cut off by the tall structure, casting a long shadow. Within that shadow stood a thin figure.

In the middle of the sweltering summer, she was still wrapped in an oversized school jacket. Her thick bangs fell below her eyebrows, and her drooping lashes were pale like powdered snow, delicate as if they might melt at any moment.

Yu Wei felt the stares and lowered her head to avoid them.

“Xiao Wei.”

Someone called her.

Yu Wei turned around and saw Ding Qing. She looked surprised, even a little startled. “Why are you…”

“I found my biological daughter and came to handle her school transfer,” Ding Qing said, just stepping out of the academic office. Her face was filled with joy, and after a pause, she added absentmindedly, “Did I never tell you that you’re not my biological daughter?”

The voice, mingled with the buzz of cicadas, pierced like a spike into Yu Wei’s eardrum. Her mind tightened around the words, then froze.

For a moment, she blanked out.

It felt like a giant building collapsed, its shadow crashing down over her silently but heavily, weighing her shoulders down.

It was too sudden. Even though Yu Wei had imagined this moment countless times, when it finally came, her mind still went blank. Her face felt numb.

Out of instinct, she forced a smile. “I know.”

After a pause, Yu Wei lowered her gaze and asked, “You’re here to transfer her in… or?”

“I didn’t like the school she was at, so I’m transferring her here—to your class. She’s not familiar with the environment yet, so take good care of her.” Ding Qing spared the explanations. Her tone was relaxed, but her eyes were sharp and scrutinizing. She looked at the respectful girl in front of her. “You don’t have anything else to say?”

Even the noisy cicadas seemed to quiet for a second.

Yu Wei looked up from the shadow. Her eyes, an unusual shade of pinkish red, stared at Ding Qing. They were misty, brimming with moisture.

“I’m happy for you, truly.” Her lips curved gently, forming shallow dimples. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of her.”

It was no secret that she wasn’t Ding Qing’s real daughter.

When Ding Qing discovered that her real daughter had been mistakenly switched at birth in the hospital, she had a mental breakdown and eventually threw herself into work, rarely coming home. She had never spoken to Yu Wei directly about the baby swap—whether out of forgetfulness or unwillingness, no one knew.

But when Yu Wei said she was happy for Ding Qing, she meant it.

She had no reason not to be.

“From now on, she’ll be the elder sister, and you’ll be the younger one. She’ll move back home—you’ll move back too.”

“Okay.”

Ding Qing glanced at her watch.

Yu Wei hesitated. “Should I walk you out?”

The morning sunlight shifted, casting light across Ding Qing’s shoulder and onto Yu Wei’s nearly translucent face. Calm and restrained.

It was Ding Qing’s first time at the school—she didn’t know her way.

Yu Wei walked her out, then ran all the way back to the classroom. Beads of sweat dotted her nose as her chest heaved. She stared at the empty seat in the last row. Her throat ached and felt torn.

The person hadn’t arrived yet.

“We’re getting a new student in our class,” someone said. “But Xiang-jie said they’re sitting behind you. Don’t know how that’s gonna work. Want me to ask her? Anyway, all the seats in the last row are singles. Doesn’t matter where they sit.”

Cheng Miao turned around and gestured toward the empty seat behind Yu Wei, itching to act. “I’ll just move it out of the way.”

“Don’t.” Yu Wei snapped back to the present. She wiped the sweat from her cheeks and said quietly, “Leave it.”

“She’s here.”

Whispers spread through the classroom. Yu Wei tilted her head just in time to catch two figures walking past the window. One of them stood taller than the homeroom teacher, Wen Xiang.

Students who had been standing quickly sat up straight. Like falling dominoes, rows of students sat down in sync. Even those pretending to study stretched their necks to sneak a look outside.

Yu Wei’s pen dropped with a click.

“A new classmate is joining us,” Wen Xiang said, standing at the classroom door. “Put your stuff down and stop pretending. Come on, introduce yourself?”

Before the new girl could speak, quiet murmurs began to spread like water reaching a boil.

“Whoa—isn’t she the figure skating champion from a couple years ago?”

“Yeah, the first ever national gold medalist!”

“She was everywhere—posters, TV, you name it.”

“Too bad she’s done now.”

“Guess it’s over for her—changing tracks to go back to school.”

…

“I’m Yu Wei.”

Their words barely touched her. Her face was calm and distant, her expression unreadable.

Sunlight slanted across her figure, highlighting her tall, straight posture and aloof elegance.

She looked pale and slim, her thin eyelids half-lowered beneath her bangs. She didn’t look easy to approach.

The murmurs quieted down.

Desks wobbled under the shifting weight of the students. A pen scratched across the back of someone’s hand, leaving a mark.

Yu Wei looked down at the scratch.

Cheng Miao stopped bouncing and whispered, “Xiao Yu, Xiao Yu, holy crap, it’s her!”

The girl causing all the fuss stood silently, completely unaffected.

Wen Xiang gently patted her back. “Take the seat in the back for now.”

Half the class turned around to watch her walk to the back.

Yu Wei immediately curved her lips into a gentle, welcoming smile.

But Yu Wei didn’t even look at her. Her gaze landed on the empty seat behind Yu Wei, and she strode straight over, long legs cutting through the air with purpose, brushing past Yu Wei.

Yu Wei lowered her head.

She listened to the sound of the chair being pulled out behind her and someone sitting down.

Yu Wei sat rigidly straight, staring at the scratch on her hand. She rubbed at it unconsciously, reddening the fair skin.

She pulled out a wet wipe, dabbed away the ink, then crumpled the tissue into a ball and tossed it into the desk cubby.

Wen Xiang clapped from the podium. “Class time. The new student doesn’t have a workbook yet—share with the person in front of you.”

Yu Wei shifted her chair to the right, freeing up half the desk.

A few seconds later, someone joined her at the table.

A textbook was propped open at the corner. A pen spun between long fingers, the veins on the hand subtly rising and falling with each motion—like they were breathing.

Yu Wei noticed that the new girl only used the desk corner.

She pushed the workbook over, tapping the question they were discussing.

No response.

She pushed it closer, persistent. Her fingers were white as snow. Only when the workbook was entirely in front of the new girl did she retract her hand.

Yu Wei glanced over. Her handwriting was neat, the paper tidy.

Yu Wei’s throat was dry. She couldn’t focus on the book in front of her, sneaking glances at the girl beside her.

The workbook was still ignored. She was reading another book.

Her black jacket sleeves were rolled to the elbow. Her wrist, jutting out sharply, held down the book’s corner as she highlighted a passage with her pen.

A math book.

Yu Wei blinked in surprise, not realizing she’d turned to look. The Chinese worksheet she’d offered was nudged back toward her.

Yu Wei: …

They pushed it back and forth until the sheet settled in the middle. Each held their own book.

When class ended, Wen Xiang said, “Yu Wei, come here a second.”

Chairs scraped the floor—two sounds in unison.

Yu Wei turned to see Yu Wei standing at the same time.

Half the class burst into laughter.

Yu Wei tugged at her collar, pulling it up to her chin.

“Let’s switch seats,” she said.

Yu Wei looked confused.

“You just transferred in. It’ll be hard to fit in sitting in the back.”

There were 42 students in total, seven rows. The seat Yu Wei had taken was isolated in the very back.

It stood out.

“No need.”

Yu Wei frowned, silently lifting her desk and moving it to the far corner—by the window and the back door.

She hooked her foot around the chair leg and pulled it into place.

Cheng Miao was stunned.

The class buzzed with whispers. Heads turned subtly toward the new seat. Even students walking in and out turned to glance at the girl by the window.

“I saw you compete a few years ago—your free skate comeback was insane,” a boy up front said. “I’m Liang Jianyu—they all call me Little Fatty. Call me whatever. Never thought you’d be here.”

Yu Wei looked up. “Neither did I.”

She was cold. Liang Fatty shrugged and turned back.

Yu Wei leaned against the wall. The sun spilled across her desk, her arm, and her cheek.

But it didn’t seem to warm her at all.

Yu Wei took off her glasses. The world blurred. She sighed.

Class A was in a corner of the building. Its front door led to a blank wall. Most people used the back, which opened straight to stairs and a walkway to the office building.

Prime location. Like a busy street.

Yu Wei adjusted to the blur and, just as she rounded the door, bumped into Wen Xiang.

“Huh? Why are you sitting there?” Wen Xiang asked Yu Wei. She didn’t wait for a reply. “You too, come with me.”

Once the three left, the classroom burst into excited chatter—loud enough to hear through the wall.

Wen Xiang glanced at Yu Wei. “Everyone really likes you. A lot of them were fans. You used to show up in their essays.”

Yu Wei snuck a glance. Her expression remained cold.

Wen Xiang quickly changed topics. “Our class moves fast. It’ll be tough at first, but don’t stress too much.”

Yu Wei responded with a faint “Mm.”

The corridor stretched between the buildings. On the other side was the office wing.

Wen Xiang went over everything in detail. At the entrance, she exhaled and said, “Report to the admin office for your uniform. Don’t forget to wear it tomorrow.”

“And about the seating,” she said, eyes flicking between them. “Since you moved already, let’s leave it for now. After next month’s exams, you’ll pick seats by rank.”

Leadership and parents had both called this morning, insisting they sit together.

But Wen Xiang could tell it wouldn’t work.

She looked at Yu Wei. “Your guardian applied to withdraw you from the dorms. You’ll have to move out today. It’s tight in the new semester. Once you give it up, you might not get a spot again. You sure?”

The hallway was cold and quiet. The building was old and narrow, echoing faintly.

“I’m sure,” Yu Wei said.

“Then pack your things today.” Wen Xiang nodded. “That’s all—go on.”

Once she left, the hall grew even quieter.

Yu Wei turned to leave, her long figure calm and aloof.

Yu Wei tucked her fingers into her sleeves and whispered, “I’ll take you to get your uniform, sis.”

Yu Wei stopped and shot her a sharp look.

“Don’t call me that.”