Unbearable - Chapter 2

Chapter 2: “Can you wait for me after school?”

Coming out of the administrative building, the sunlight was blinding. Yu Wei stood on the steps, pulling her jacket zipper all the way up until it touched the bridge of her nose, revealing only a pair of pale red eyes.

They were slightly furrowed.

Yu Wei had long legs and walked fast. She had already descended the steps and was now standing in the light, looking back.

The moment her gaze fell on Yu Wei, Yu Wei snapped out of it.

“Sorry.” Yu Wei grasped the zipper near her nose and pulled it down slightly, revealing just the tip of her chin.

Yu Wei frowned. “Where’s the admin office?”

The sunlight was thick, the air scorching and restless. Her voice sounded like it had been dipped in cold water.

Yu Wei stepped down and walked to her side, keeping a two-step distance. The sunlight hit her pale white hair, making it look like a layer of snow.

Her voice was gentle and unhurried: “I’ll take you.”

Yu Wei seemed impatient. “Just give directions.”

Yu Wei exhaled lightly. Her drooping eyes opened wider with effort and trembled under the sun. She softly repeated, “I’ll take you.”

The two walked one after the other through the elm grove, went to the admin building, and collected the school uniform.

On the way back, Yu Wei didn’t need to lead—she walked ahead quickly. Yu Wei didn’t try to keep up, lagging behind at a snail’s pace, like a white snail crawling slowly under the sun.

“Ah, Xiao Yu!”

Someone called out, and suddenly the crowd shifted directions, heading toward Yu Wei. People jostled aside to clear a path.

“Have you registered for the B-level competition this year?”

“Xiao Yu, we just wanted to see you. We’ll leave right away.”

Yu Wei didn’t respond and returned to the classroom through the crowd.

Yu Wei stood on the stairs, leaning sideways against the wall. She pulled her collar up to her eyes, blurring the overlapping shadows of people rushing past.

“There are still so many brain-dead fans. If she can’t pass the puberty threshold and won’t retire now, what’s she planning? I think all the new girls in the junior division are better than her. Even a washed-up, lazy quitter like her still has people hyping her.”

Yu Wei turned her head slightly in the direction of the voice. Through the blur of figures, she sensed that the speaker was standing just outside the crowd, right at the stairway entrance. When he saw her frown at him, he muttered again, “White-haired freak.”

It was quiet, but Yu Wei’s expression didn’t change as she lowered her gaze.

“You say that again, I f*cking dare you!”

Yu Wei had just leaned back against the wall when she heard Cheng Miao curse. Before the words had even faded, there were two dull thuds—the guy staggered and tumbled down the stairs, scrambling past Yu Wei while cursing as he ran off.

Cheng Miao chased after him, skipping several steps at a time, until Yu Wei grabbed her arm.

“Chengzi.”

Yu Wei called her.

Cheng Miao clenched her jaw, letting out an angry huff. “Catch him and bust his mouth open!”

The gathered crowd, startled by the sudden incident, quickly dispersed in silence.

Then she turned back to the classroom.

The back door was closed. She pushed it but couldn’t budge it.

She tilted her head and knocked on the window, staring at Yu Wei’s cold expression inside.

The door opened. Yu Wei pulled her hand back from behind the door with one hand, and with the other, she removed her black sports jacket, revealing a tight-fitting T-shirt underneath.

The short sleeves clung to her firm, toned arms, and the edge of the sleeve revealed a patch of bruised skin.

Judging by the coloring, it was a mix of old and new bruises.

Yu Wei glanced at it briefly before Yu Wei swiftly changed into her school uniform jacket, tugging the sleeve up slightly to reveal her forearm. Her movements were fluid and practiced.

Then she tapped the table with her knuckle.

Yu Wei quickly looked away, awkwardly lowering her head and returning to her seat.

Cheng Miao was still furious. Sitting back down only made her angrier. She turned around, cheeks puffed in frustration. “If someone mouths off like that again, you better curse back!”

Yu Wei gave a small smile and nodded.

“You hear me?”

“I hear you.”

Seeing the dimples appear on her cheeks, Cheng Miao knew she was just humoring her and pouted. “What did Miss Xiang call you for?”

“To tell me to move out of the dorms. I’m going home.”

“What? Why?” Cheng Miao was surprised. “Is it because there’s not enough space for the new freshmen?”

Yu Wei lowered her eyes and nodded. “Maybe.”

“Only the new ones laugh, never the old ones cry…” Cheng Miao sighed twice. “You’re really going home? But there’s no one at your house. What’s the point?”

Yu Wei said nothing, silently wiping her fingers one by one. Her knuckles turned red from the rubbing alcohol, and the smell slowly filled the air.

Cheng Miao watched her. “Are you really okay?”

“What?” Yu Wei snapped out of it. The alcohol left her hands cold, then slightly burning. “Oh, I’m fine. I was just thinking… isn’t Yu Wei your idol? Why don’t you go hang out with her?”

Before meeting Yu Wei, Cheng Miao had talked about “Xiao Yu” for five years—how she won gold, set records in women’s figure skating, how the media praised her and then turned on her.

“I’m a mom fan,” Cheng Miao muttered under her breath. “Never thought I’d end up in the same class as my daughter. It’s so embarrassing.”

Hearing the word “daughter,” Yu Wei fell into an awkward silence.

“By the way, does Xiao Yu know there’s a weekly test?”

Yu Wei blinked. Miss Xiang had explained everything in detail earlier—but now that she thought about it, she hadn’t mentioned the test.

“Probably not.” Yu Wei clenched the damp wipe in her hand. Moisture pooled in her palm. She glanced toward Yu Wei, then quickly looked away.

Yu Wei was reading, her expression dark and serious.

The navy blackout curtain was pulled slightly open. The light filtered in and barely touched her fingertips on the desk.

“Then you can be the one to tell her.” Yu Wei lowered her voice, leaning close and whispering just loud enough for Cheng Miao to hear, “Is figure skating really that injury-prone? I think I saw some bruises on her shoulder earlier.”

Cheng Miao’s eyes widened.

Yu Wei hesitated. “…Or maybe I saw wrong.”

“It’s possible! No one’s looking after her right now.” Cheng Miao’s lips drooped. She grumbled, “Can you lend her your ointment?”

Yu Wei only hesitated for two seconds before leaning over her desk, using her body to block the opening. With her right hand, she pulled out a box of ointment and handed it to Cheng Miao.

“Bestie! My daughter is your daughter!” Cheng Miao clutched the box, made a fist, and walked over to Yu Wei.

This… relationship? Yu Wei was momentarily dazed and glanced discreetly toward the window.

Cheng Miao set the ointment on Yu Wei’s desk. Yu Wei glanced down at it, then looked up.

Her gaze brushed lightly in Yu Wei’s direction. Yu Wei immediately sat up straight, her back stiff, gripping the warm, damp wipe in her palm.

“Thanks.”

Yu Wei heard Yu Wei say that and let out a breath.

The next second, Cheng Miao slinked back, hunched over in defeat.

Mr. He’s dragging, sarcastic voice followed: “Wow, look who remembered we’re having class.”

Mr. He wasn’t very old, but his sarcasm was cutting. The moment he entered, the class fell silent.

In the quiet, Yu Wei finally relaxed and tossed the used wipe into the desk cubby, landing beside her phone. The screen lit up suddenly, showing a new message notification from Ding Qing.

Mom: “Bring your sister home with you this afternoon.”
Mom: “Confirm upon reading.”

The screen dimmed after thirty seconds.

Yu Wei pulled out her phone, turned it on, and replied to the first message: “Okay.”

Her fingertip slid down the screen. The page bounced back—it only took one glance to read the entire message history.

But she stared at it, lost in thought.

After class, a stream of students passed by. Yu Wei used the cover of shadows to glance toward Yu Wei through a small gap.

The moment her eyes landed, Yu Wei stood up and walked over to Yu Wei’s desk in two strides.

She placed the ointment back on the desk.

Yu Wei looked up at her. Without explanation or persuasion, she simply asked:

“Can you wait for me after school?”

Her voice was barely audible.

Yu Wei frowned impatiently, as if she hadn’t heard, and turned to leave.

Forget it. I’ll just call her after school.

Yu Wei looked down at the ointment and bit her lip. How did Yu Wei know it was hers?

She turned the box around to put it away and saw the note she’d written on the instructions in marker:
Use in small amounts, apply with warmth to melt.

For the rest of the afternoon, Yu Wei didn’t look back again. After the earlier incident, the hallway was much quieter, though some people still hovered outside the back door, gossiping, and a few bold ones even took photos with their phones.

The back door, usually wide open during breaks, now stayed shut.

After the final self-study period ended, Yu Wei turned around at the bell—only to find the seat in the corner empty, the desk gone.

The chaos of the day felt like a dream. She dazed out for a few seconds before digging out her phone from her desk. Two missed calls.

Cheng Miao was waiting for her to pack up at the dorm.

“You go eat first,” Yu Wei said as she called back. She packed the review book she’d need for the evening. “I’ll be in the dorm when you get back.”

At the back door, Cheng Miao gestured for her to wait.

Yu Wei dialed and waved her off. “Sorry, Mom. I had the phone on silent during class.”

“Where’s Xiao Wei? Remember to bring her home with you,” Ding Qing’s voice was unusually gentle.

Yu Wei stood still and pulled up her collar.

“She left right after class,” Yu Wei’s mouth was dry; she licked her lips. “Maybe you should give her a call—”

The call ended before she finished.

She swallowed the rest of the sentence, took off her glasses, and walked out along the wall.

A black Bentley was parked at the school gate. The chauffeur standing nearby had a kind, honest face and drew quite a few looks. It was the peak of dismissal time—people were everywhere.

Yu Wei dragged her suitcase. From a distance, someone took it from her.

She looked up. “Thank you, Uncle Li.”

She glanced at the window and opened the car door. As expected, no one was inside.

Li Yu placed the suitcase in the trunk and beamed. “From now on, I’ll be the one picking you up.”

“Sorry to trouble you.”

“It’s no trouble, no trouble at all.”

Li Yu had been Yu Jingcheng’s backup driver. Since Yu Jingcheng and Ding Qing were rarely home, he’d been the one to take Yu Wei to school and the hospital when she was little. Only when she started boarding school in middle school did they see less of each other.

Yu Wei got in and glanced at the crowd outside the school gate. She said softly, “Can we wait a bit?”

Li Yu looked at her in the rearview mirror. She was so small, her collar pulled up to her nose, and her features more delicate than a store display doll—gentle and reserved, yet oddly lifeless.

Mr. Yu and Ms. Ding were busy bringing their biological daughter home lately, adjusting everything. He didn’t know if they’d told Yu Wei.

“Waiting for a friend?”

Yu Wei pressed her lips together. “No.”

She watched the sunset through the car window. The colors were so vivid they seemed unreal—like an oil painting.

The light stung her eyes, making them hot and sore. She squinted and lowered her head to check her phone.

Only unread messages from Cheng Miao.

Cheng Miao: “You said you’d wait! Liar!”
Cheng Miao: “You toyed with my feelings!”
Cheng Miao: “Jerk!”

Yu Wei replied with a cat-biting-its-paw sticker, then stared at her WeChat name, “Yu,” for a long time—before deleting it and changing it to “……”

The sun dipped lower. The sky turned a cold gray, and streetlights blurred into the evening haze. No one remained at the school gate.

Evening study for boarders had begun. The street was dead quiet.

Her little hope vanished. Yu Wei hadn’t come.

The old Yu family villa was far from school. By the time they got home, night had fully fallen.

The villa, over twenty years old, had been left behind during the real estate boom. It was now a ghost town—too good to demolish, too empty to live in. Few people still resided here, and it was especially desolate at night.

Only one building still had lights on in the entire row.

Yu Wei stood outside, gripping her suitcase, looking up at the lit windows—overwhelmed by a wave of familiarity and alienation.

She stood at the bottom of the steps, unsure of what to do.

Suddenly, the door opened from inside.

Warm yellow light spilled from the foyer, washing over the person who opened the door, casting a long shadow that landed on Yu Wei’s body.

Yu Wei froze, staring up at the figure in the doorway.

The warm glow framed Yu Wei’s slender shoulders and neck, casting a cold halo. Her face was lowered in the backlight, unreadable.