Unbearable - Chapter 25

Chapter 25: “Does that count as close?”

 

The bell had rung twice before Yu Wei finally struggled to lift her head from the desk. Still groggy, she blinked, meeting Cheng Miao’s hesitant expression.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

Fresh from a nap, her voice was soft and lazy.

 

Cheng Miao glanced sideways at the cyber-cool girl with a blank expression as if nothing had happened, then looked back at her sleepy, clueless best friend. Her face scrunched up as she opened her mouth, but before she could speak, the classroom door swung open.

 

Wen Xiang walked in carrying a book.

 

Cheng Miao quickly turned away, releasing her tangled breath—forget it, they’re relatives after all.

 

Yu Wei had only napped for a few minutes. Still drowsy, but noticeably more awake than in the previous class, she scratched her face, not giving it much thought.

 

Morning passed in a blur.

 

As soon as the final class bell rang, Wen Xiang stood deftly to the side of the podium. “Class dismissed.”

 

The entire classroom erupted like a pack of hungry wolves who hadn’t eaten meat in days. Students surged toward the classroom doors, flooding the back exit in a tightly packed crowd.

 

The entire building trembled with noise—thunderous footsteps grew louder as more students rushed toward the stairwells.

 

Cheng Miao, distracted by her thoughts, was a step slower and ended up near the back of the mob, right next to Yu Wei.

 

Yu Wei packed up her desk and stood beside her.

 

Cheng Miao blinked. “Wanna eat at the canteen?”

 

Yu Wei hummed in agreement.

 

She had just gotten up when Yu Wei’s cyber-cool daughter Yu Wei sat back down with a blank expression.

 

Cheng Miao didn’t know what came over her. The moment Yu Wei responded with a simple “mm,” she turned her head to look at Yu Wei—just in time to see her brows furrow, practically broadcasting I’m not happy across her forehead.

 

A sudden spark of insight hit Cheng Miao. “Xiao Yu, why don’t you come with us?”

 

In just those couple of seconds, the stairwell had already cleared. The two of them followed the crowd to the back exit, ending up right behind Yu Wei.

 

Yu Wei bent down to grab her backpack from under her desk. “You two go ahead.”

 

Her voice was soft, with a low, muffled tone—cool but laced with an odd tinge of grievance.

 

Cheng Miao had spent all morning stunned by the fact that Yu Wei had touched Yu Wei’s head. In a flash, she turned to her bestie. Yu Wei kept her head down, lips pursed, silent.

 

It felt like something important was happening.

 

She’d asked Ding Qing to stop delivering lunch so they could go back to normal. She even planned to eat at the school canteen with Cheng Miao that day. It didn’t feel right to keep freeloading meals. Her grandma sold incense and paper money—how much could she really make? Yu Wei couldn’t even afford new skates when hers broke.

 

And she was stubborn, always refusing money or gifts.

 

But the real reason was the dream from yesterday at noon. It had really scared her.

 

Shameful. Terrifying.

 

She’d even taken a commission for one of Yu Wei’s fox-themed fanart pieces last night. If Yu Wei ever found out, it would be the end.

 

Cheng Miao, caught in the middle, looked from one to the other. Just when she thought she was about to figure things out, the current of students swept them out of the classroom.

 

Her scalp itched—like her brain was about to grow.

 

“Not to poke, but you and Xiao Yu—”

 

“Isn’t today freshman orientation?” Yu Wei cut her off, squinting at the students walking toward the canteen—no uniforms, parents in tow.

 

Cheng Miao slapped her thigh. “Oh, right! I totally forgot!”

 

“Then the canteen will definitely serve their best dishes today, but we might not get any,” Yu Wei muttered as she adjusted her collar.

 

“You walk slow, I’ll go grab food!” Cheng Miao bolted off, her long legs weaving nimbly through the crowd until she vanished.

 

Yu Wei sighed in relief and tugged at her collar again.

 

“Whoa, this school allows dyed hair!” someone nearby exclaimed. “Look, someone dyed it all white! So cool!”

 

Yu Wei stiffened. She lowered her head and slipped off to the side, hiding behind people. Her collar practically covered her glasses.

 

Photophobia made it hard to keep her eyes open. She had to squint and walk quickly.

 

“Doesn’t look dyed… Maybe albinism…”

 

The voice was faint. As Yu Wei walked, the end of the sentence faded away.

 

But even the part she didn’t hear echoed silently in her mind.

 

She slipped her hand from her sleeve, lifting it to cover her exposed ear.

 

A sharp pinch—like a needle prick.

 

She walked around the flowerbed to the Zhenzhi building. It was the closest to the canteen but not used for regular classes—only for large lectures. So it was quiet and empty.

 

Standing in a corner, she took out her phone and messaged Cheng Miao.

 

…: “I’m not going.”

 

Just as she finished typing but before she could send, Cheng Miao came running out from the canteen. She spotted Yu Wei leaning against the wall, head down, phone in hand.

 

“Confiscated!” Cheng Miao yelled.

 

Startled, Yu Wei nearly dropped her phone.

 

Cheng Miao laughed. “Skipping lunch just to play on your phone? Impressive.”

 

“I…” Yu Wei murmured.

 

“I got the food and grabbed two seats.” Cheng Miao raised her brows proudly. “Hurry before someone throws it away thinking no one wants it.”

 

Yu Wei swallowed her words, lowered her head, and quietly deleted the message before jogging after her.

 

It had been days since she last ate at the canteen. Everything felt unfamiliar. The crowd made it hard to move.

 

Luckily, the canteen had three floors. First floor: school-managed simple meals. Second floor: privately-run stalls. Third floor: less crowded.

 

“Didn’t you say you grabbed two seats?” Yu Wei asked, slightly out of breath after following Cheng Miao to the empty third floor.

 

“I did.” Cheng Miao chuckled and led her through the vacant tables to the northern corner.

 

Two seafood rice bowls sat on the table. On each chair were laminated menus.

 

They stuck up like little tents.

 

Yu Wei was speechless. She picked them up and set them on a nearby empty table.

 

From their corner seat, the view stretched across to the fifth floor of Zhenzhi building. Everything below was clearly visible.

 

Cheng Miao sat down and opened her phone. She didn’t ask about the deleted message, and Yu Wei didn’t bring it up.

 

After eating, Cheng Miao got them two scoops of ice cream. She handed Yu Wei a soup spoon, complaining the tiny ones were annoying.

 

A fancy glass cup—with a soup spoon.

 

“I’ve seen a lot of posts on the super topic these days. They’re obviously your art. Some even tagged your account.” Cheng Miao looked at her. “Did something happen?”

 

Yu Wei shook her head, savoring the melting cream. “No, just practicing.”

 

“Really?”

 

Cheng Miao frowned. Lately, Yu Wei felt off, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. “If anything happens, you have to tell me. Your uncle, our Emperor Emeritus, is like a fortress. If your family’s business runs into trouble, I can use my imperial connections to pull some strings.”

 

“It’s not that.” Yu Wei was both touched and amused. She looked at her for a while, then suddenly asked, “The fan art you requested—does she actually see it?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Yu Wei’s spoon trembled.

 

“We use it for hand-held banners, horizontal signs, and fan flags. Of course we hope she sees how much support she has.”

 

Cheng Miao stuck out her tongue. “Ever since Xiao Yu became our classmate, saying stuff like ‘cyber daughter’ feels so embarrassing! Even just thinking the term makes me cringe now.”

 

She wasn’t a fan, but Yu Wei understood how she felt. Honestly, she was embarrassed too. If that fox art ever made it to Yu Wei’s hands, it’d be a disaster. But… that kind of drawing probably wasn’t fit for fan support anyway, right?

 

Just as she was thinking that, Cheng Miao added, “Aside from support stuff, there are also gifts. Some drawings are turned into merch and given to her.”

 

“She accepts them?”

 

Cheng Miao nodded. “They’re heartfelt gifts from fans.”

 

So if she gave something, Yu Wei wouldn’t accept. But if a divorced mom with two kids under the username Serene and Far Away sent money or gifts, Yu Wei would accept.

 

After finishing their ice cream, they left the canteen. Most students had already headed back.

 

“Don’t go back to class,” Cheng Miao said, holding Yu Wei’s arm. “Come nap at my place.”

 

Cheng Miao didn’t live in the dorms. She rented a place nearby for lunchtime naps, rather than run home and back.

 

Though her mom was a stay-at-home housewife, Cheng Miao didn’t want to waste time commuting during the short lunch break, so she got a place near school.

 

“It’s too hot. I don’t want to walk.” Yu Wei squinted.

 

“It really needs to rain soon, or we’ll turn into dried meat!” Cheng Miao sighed. “You should rent too. A lot of seniors already have. Once the freshmen come, it’ll be hard to get a dorm.”

 

She’d known Yu Wei for years, and she’d always lived in the dorms. No idea why she quit this time.

 

There weren’t any rumors about her being kicked out.

 

“I’ll think about it later.”

 

At least give it half a year. Ding Qing was doing better lately. In a few months, maybe she wouldn’t need her anymore.

 

As they walked, Cheng Miao mumbled about getting three days off for the school anniversary. She wanted to go travel if so.

 

Yu Wei didn’t respond, just nodded.

 

She kept her head low, shielding from the sun. Wherever Cheng Miao walked, she followed.

 

Suddenly, Cheng Miao stopped. Yu Wei looked up in confusion.

 

And saw Yu Wei standing not far away.

 

She had just come in from outside, carrying a thermal lunch container, standing under the blazing sun like ice had formed on her face.

 

Her eyes swept briefly over their linked arms before lifting again.

 

“You’re back already?!” Cheng Miao called joyfully. “Going to the classroom? It’s awful napping there. I rented a place nearby. Let’s go nap there.”

 

Yu Wei’s gaze flicked between them. She felt an odd discomfort in her chest.

 

She looked straight at Yu Wei. “Are you going?”

 

The sudden question caught Yu Wei off guard. She hesitated, flustered.

 

“…No.”

 

Cheng Miao looked between them, scratched her head, and laughed awkwardly. “Then you two go back to class. I’ll head off.”

 

With her gone, only the two of them remained.

 

Most students were heading to the dorms—not many walked toward the teaching building at this hour.

 

Yu Wei kept her head down and said nothing as she walked.

 

When she neared Yu Wei, the latter hadn’t moved. She glanced over and asked coolly, “Why not go?”

 

Yu Wei tugged at her collar, lips tasting faintly of sweetness. “Too far. It’s hot.”

 

Yu Wei nodded and turned to walk beside her—never stepping ahead.

 

Yu Wei watched the sunlight reflecting off the stainless steel lunch container in Yu Wei’s hand. It was so bright, she squinted.

 

Yu Wei switched hands. Then, out of nowhere, she asked:

 

“Does my place count as close?”

 

The voice was soft, with a hint of coolness—like a mint ice cream that melted the moment it touched the tongue.

 

Yu Wei was startled by her own metaphor.

 

She didn’t reply for a while. Her eyes, hidden behind glasses, dropped. Her snowy lashes shadowed everything.

 

Yu Wei’s jaw tensed. She was about to walk ahead when she heard Yu Wei whisper:

 

“…Yeah.”

 

That subtle irritation vanished instantly—like a drop of water on hot pavement, evaporating without a trace.

 

And maybe, just maybe, leaving behind something sweet.

 

Too far to go to Cheng Miao’s, but hers counted as close—did that mean she could go?

 

“Grandma asked why you didn’t come for lunch today.” Yu Wei said flatly, masking her growing joy.

 

Yu Wei grew more embarrassed, mumbling, “Didn’t feel right.”

 

“What didn’t?”

 

Yu Wei turned to her, confused. “You don’t know how to get along with Grandma and feel awkward?”

 

Though they hadn’t known each other long, Yu Wei felt like she understood Yu Wei well. Always alone in that empty house. No family. And probably hard to make friends, being so different.

 

She could endure anything, yet was extremely sensitive.

 

Yu Wei stayed silent, which she took as confirmation. She relaxed. “It’s normal. Awkwardness just means you haven’t spent enough time together. Keep going, and you’ll get used to it.”

 

But she and Yu Wei had spent plenty of time together. They had secrets, shared meals, even slept under the same roof—yet she still sometimes felt awkward.

 

Maybe the problem was her.

 

Yu Wei didn’t say anything. She bit her lip and whispered, “But if I keep eating there, isn’t that really rude?”

 

No one had taught her, but she knew that much.

 

Yu Wei suddenly stopped and turned to her.

 

Looking at this girl squinting up at her for answers, her heart melted a little.

 

“No,” she said gently. “Being rude means doing something others dislike. Grandma really likes you. She’s happy when you come. You’re not freeloading—you’re being filial.”

 

“Huh?”

 

Yu Wei’s mouth parted slightly. She winced at the glare. “Really?”

 

It didn’t quite sound right.

 

“Really.” Yu Wei nodded and took half a step forward.

 

She was taller than Yu Wei, so when she moved closer, she blocked the sun from hitting her face.

 

“You didn’t come today, so Grandma specially asked me to bring you plum juice,” she said, lifting the container.

 

Yu Wei, still in her shadow, lowered her head and whispered, “Thank Grandma for me.”

 

“She can’t hear you if you say it to me.” Yu Wei glanced at her arm. “You tell her yourself tomorrow.”

 

Yu Wei nodded obediently.

 

They had to walk west, then turn north to reach the classroom building. As they neared the corner, Yu Wei sped up.

 

Yu Wei lagged slightly and hurried to catch up, fingers hidden in her sleeves gently tugging at the fabric bunched around Yu Wei’s elbow.

 

The pull was so faint, it was almost imperceptible.

 

Yu Wei slowed her pace, matching hers, and the sliver of sunlight on her arm vanished.

 

She couldn’t explain it, but she was happy—like the osmanthus sweetness in her mouth had quietly become the taste of plum juice.

 

The summer heat was fading, autumn not yet here—
but something refreshing had arrived early.