Unbearable - Chapter 35

Chapter 35: Yu Wei’s Eyes Drooped Slightly, as if a Bit Wronged

 

Yu Wei had a blurry dream. When she woke up in a haze that morning, all she could recall was that Yu Wei was lying on the bed, eyes shut tightly, her face pale and translucent, only her lips bitten red and glistening.

 

The scene had been very close—she coaxed Yu Wei to open her eyes, only to see a tide of desire and tears pooled in those pink eyes, the blush spreading to the corners, lips parting with breathy, needy sounds.

 

It hadn’t rained last night.

 

Yu Wei lay under the thin quilt, her whole body feverishly warm.

 

She looked down at Yu Wei, who was sleeping soundly beside her, forehead pressed against her arm. In the soft morning light that spilled in from outside, she didn’t dare look for long and quickly shifted her gaze.

 

Yu Wei quietly got up, changed by the bed, picked up her phone, and went out.

 

Yu Wei, having had a dreamless night, was still fast asleep when the ringtone of a phone jolted her awake. Instinctively, she reached for it to turn it off, only to realize it wasn’t an alarm.

 

It was past six. Ding Qing was calling.

 

Seeing the caller ID snapped her awake. She sat up quickly and answered.

 

Almost the moment she tapped the screen, Ding Qing’s voice erupted from the receiver:

 

“Why didn’t you tell me something happened to Weiwei?!”

 

Her voice was so loud, it made Yu Wei’s old, battered phone buzz with static.

 

Yu Wei’s palm went numb from the vibrations. She pursed her lips and said softly, “Mom…”

 

“I’m not your mom!” Ding Qing shouted.

 

Yu Wei lowered her eyes, silently letting her vent. But after a few heavy breaths, Ding Qing suddenly paused for a few seconds and said coldly:

 

“I’m coming back tonight.”

 

And before she could respond, the call ended.

 

Not another word—not even a shred of comfort—just blame.

 

Yu Wei stared at the phone. The interrupted alarm began ringing again. She stared at it for a moment, then turned it off and powered down the phone.

 

The screen went dark. No more sounds. Silence.

 

The sky outside was grey, dull light filtering through the windowpane.

 

Yu Wei put on her glasses, got out of bed, and while Yu Wei was still out, she changed into her school uniform and went to the bathroom to wash the dress she wore yesterday. She hung it up under the eaves on a steel wire.

 

Droplets trickled from the hem, splashing the concrete ground and stirring a fine layer of dust that floated in the water.

 

Yu Wei returned from her jog to find her sitting on a small stool under the eaves, head down, intently watching the splashes on the ground.

 

Hearing footsteps, Yu Wei looked up.

 

“What are you looking at?” Yu Wei stepped up the stairs with breakfast in hand.

 

Smelling the aroma of steamed buns, Yu Wei smiled faintly and said, “Nothing really.”

 

Yu Wei looked down, puzzled by the line of water, and handed her a few bags. “Go eat inside, it’s cold out here.”

 

It wasn’t really that cold. She was wearing a jacket—just the usual chill of early autumn.

 

Still, Yu Wei took the food and watched her walk into the kitchen with the other portion.

 

They sat at the desk inside to eat breakfast. Well, only Yu Wei was really eating—Yu Wei just ate the whites of two boiled eggs, then took her uniform and went to the bathroom to shower and change.

 

Frowning at the two yolks left in the bag, Yu Wei hesitated for a few minutes, then picked them up and ate them.

 

She nearly choked and had to drink half a glass of milk to get them down.

 

After breakfast, they tidied up and headed to school together. The timing was just right—not early, not late. The school wasn’t crowded yet, but nearly everyone who passed by stared at them, whispering.

 

Some had already walked far but still turned back to look.

 

Yu Wei felt unsettled by the stares, clutching her backpack straps tightly. She whispered, “Do you think they all know?”

 

“Know what?”

 

Yu Wei paused. “About calling the police last night.”

 

Yu Wei gave a soft “oh.” She wanted to say, So what if they do? But changed it to: “Maybe they saw yesterday’s performance?”

 

Yu Wei blinked.

 

“We did pretty well on stage,” Yu Wei said casually. “It’s normal for people to be curious.”

 

Yu Wei, who had been anxious and uncomfortable from all the attention, was stunned by her calm response.

 

Is… is that how it is?

 

She tried to bear it but still didn’t like it. Even if the looks weren’t hostile, they still made her uneasy.

 

Yu Wei pulled her collar up, ducked her head, and with her fingers poking out of her sleeve, tugged on Yu Wei’s jacket.

 

“…Let’s walk faster.”

 

Yu Wei matched her pace and looked down at the girl beside her who wished she could disappear. She reached back and gently held her fingers.

 

Cold fingers slowly warmed.

 

Classroom A was nearly full. Since the weather was cool, the air conditioning wasn’t on, and the back door was propped open.

 

Their entrance was quiet but still drew attention. A few students at the back turned around, and someone started clapping—at first sporadic, then a chorus of applause erupted.

 

Yu Wei awkwardly sat down and placed her bag on the desk. She leaned over and whispered to Cheng Miao, “What’s going on?”

 

Cheng Miao chuckled, “One: Congrats on the amazing performance yesterday! You two won Best Show! Two: You stayed calm in a crisis—truly sacrificed for art!”

 

Sacrificed for art… barefoot on stage? Yu Wei was so embarrassed she couldn’t lift her head.

 

The applause and jokes didn’t last long. Everyone soon went back to what they were doing.

 

Yu Wei looked toward the front.

 

Cheng Miao followed her gaze. “That Ding Yangze, what’s up with him? He was fine yesterday, and now he’s out sick? He was in tonight’s show too! So irresponsible.”

 

Yu Wei’s heart skipped. “You saw him last night?”

 

“Yeah.” Cheng Miao rolled her eyes. “When we were stopped outside, he was there. I think he left when the police arrived. Didn’t pay much attention. He better be sick for real!”

 

Yu Wei hadn’t paid attention to who had followed them last night. Her classmates wouldn’t suspect Ding Yangze had anything to do with it—not even Cheng Miao.

 

Only the arts committee rep, Zhong Ling, and the group performing tonight were panicking like ants in a hot pot, calling and messaging him on every platform with no reply.

 

“We’re replacing him!” Zhong Ling slammed her phone on the table. “I’ll step in!”

 

“What if he comes back tonight?”

 

“Then he can eat crap!” she snapped. “What kind of illness keeps you from even sending a text? But his precious game account logged off just five minutes ago! Playing dead, seriously!”

 

With the replacement settled, the group urgently applied for rehearsal. The teachers didn’t ask much—just waved them off.

 

Even Mr. He didn’t question it, just let them go.

 

During break, the class gossiped about how even Mr. He had a sense of artistic spirit. Half amused, half understanding—after all, it was the school’s anniversary. Maybe the teachers knew Ding Yangze was really sick? Should someone check on him during lunch?

 

Yu Wei stayed silent, listening to the chatter.

 

She never took part in these conversations, so no one found her silence strange.

 

At noon, Yu Wei left for the police station to hear about new updates. Yu Wei followed behind.

 

The taller girl didn’t walk too close or far, adjusting her pace so they were side by side—like they’d left together.

 

Yu Wei pulled up her collar. Her voice was low and muffled. “I’m going to the police station.”

 

Yu Wei replied, “What a coincidence. Me too.”

 

Yu Wei: “……”

 

She glanced over. The side of Yu Wei’s face was blank. She silently looked away.

 

Coincidence? Wasn’t she just following her?

 

Yu Wei held it in from the classroom all the way to the school gate before blurting, “Why didn’t you tell me you were going to the police station?”

 

She hadn’t said a word, just quietly packed up after class and left without even glancing at her—no text, nothing. If she hadn’t followed, she wouldn’t have known.

 

They’d been spending every day together lately.

 

Yu Wei had been guessing and watching her the whole time. Aside from pulling her collar up, there was no other sign.

 

Something felt… off.

 

She glanced again. “You were already leaving.” Yu Wei hadn’t expected the question. She really hadn’t planned to bring her along.

 

It would draw too much attention. Yu Wei had always stood out at school, and after last night’s performance, even more so. Every student and teacher they passed stared.

 

Even if she bundled up, she couldn’t hide her hair.

 

Walking with her in the morning was like walking with a moving signboard.

 

Yu Wei hadn’t expected the direct question. Instinctively, she changed the subject. “I wonder what the policewoman will say this time.”

 

Yu Wei stared at her.

 

The air turned awkward.

 

Feeling her gaze, Yu Wei turned her head, again trying to change the topic. “I wonder if Ding Yangze will come back to school today.”

 

“Who?” Yu Wei narrowed her eyes.

 

Yu Wei: “……”

 

She paused, then looked at Yu Wei and repeated, “Ding Yangze.”

 

Yu Wei stopped walking, looking down at her, face taut. “Your friend?”

 

She didn’t mind Yu Wei having other friends. That was a good thing. But someone she’d never heard of before? Suddenly mentioned like that? That triggered a strange sense of crisis.

 

Yu Wei’s eyes drooped slightly, a little wronged. Her voice was low: “From another school? How come you’ve never mentioned him before? Is he coming to hang out with you?”

 

Yu Wei was speechless. She remembered last time Yu Wei had come back just to scold Ding Yangze.

 

Seeing her stunned and staring up blankly, Yu Wei pursed her lips. Was her reaction too intense?

 

“I was just asking casually,” she coughed. “If he’s your friend and comes to hang out, can I come too?”

 

She deliberately softened her tone, sounding closer, more familiar.

 

“Ding Yangze is the one who broke your skates yesterday. The one from our class who’s out sick today.”

 

Yu Wei couldn’t help but laugh, her voice tinged with amusement. “You really didn’t remember?”

 

Yu Wei finally relaxed, but her face turned red when she got teased. She quickly walked ahead.

 

“Why would I remember him?”

 

Yu Wei followed behind, incredulous. “Then who do you remember?”

 

She was just teasing, but after asking, she genuinely got curious. Yu Wei had transferred a month ago. Surely she remembered someone in class?

 

“You.”

 

A faint blush crept up her ears. She coughed and added, “And Cheng Miao, and my seatmate. I remember the teachers too.”

 

Yu Wei paused, then caught up, letting out a quiet “oh.”

 

Yeah, that made sense. No way she’d notice Ding Yangze—they sat half a classroom apart.

 

At the police station, the officer showed them a video. It came from a restaurant across the alley. A group of people entered, but one person stayed outside, standing by the door and lifting his phone like he was filming.

 

“He’s also wearing your school uniform,” the officer said, zooming in. “Do you know him?”

 

Yu Wei frowned at the screen.

 

Yu Wei looked at her, then turned away. “I don’t remember him.”

 

Then she looked back at Yu Wei, biting her lip.

 

Is he someone from class again?

 

Yu Wei hadn’t heard her, still focused on the video. After a while, she nodded. “I’ve seen him, but I don’t know him.”

 

This was the guy who had cursed at her when Yu Wei first transferred in. He’d been standing outside the classroom.

 

“He saw me on the stairs and cursed. When my friend chased after him, he turned around and cursed her too. That’s why I remembered him.”

 

The officer asked, “Why did he curse at you? Any prior conflict?”

 

Yu Wei shook her head. “Maybe my face bothered him.”

 

Her tone was calm, her expression unchanged—no hint of grievance, not a trace of hurt. As if she was saying something completely ordinary.

 

Completely ordinary.

 

That “ordinary” stabbed Yu Wei hard.

 

She clenched and unclenched her fists at her sides, then placed her hand gently over Yu Wei’s fingers.

 

Her calloused fingertip brushed the back of Yu Wei’s hand.

 

“That day, someone posted a photo online with hashtags,” Yu Wei suddenly remembered. But she hadn’t saved it.

 

Yu Wei pulled her hand back, took out her phone, and asked Cheng Miao for a screenshot.

 

Yu Wei lowered her eyes as her hand slipped away, fingers curling and retreating to her pocket.

 

Soon after she sent the message, Cheng Miao replied with screenshots—both the post and the poster’s profile. She asked what Yu Wei needed it for.

 

Yu Wei showed the officer the image. It matched the surveillance video. She added that the account had since been deactivated.

 

After confirming everything, they bought lunch on the way home.

 

The alley was quiet. The wind rolled in from the entrance, stirring the dust on the ground into a small vortex.

 

“Even just existing, doing nothing, you’ll attract malice. There are people like that in this world.”

 

Yu Wei stepped through the vortex. The wind blew past her trousers, and the dust scattered.

 

“You don’t need to understand them. You don’t have to find a reason. They don’t deserve a second of your attention.”

 

Yu Wei stopped and turned to look at Yu Wei, eyes locking.

 

Behind the lenses, those pure, pinkish eyes reflected Yu Wei’s face, getting closer and closer.

 

“Got it?”

 

Their breath seemed to intertwine. Yu Wei stared blankly and forgot to blink. She nodded lightly.