Unbearable - Chapter 45
Chapter 45: Yu Wei’s Heart Pounded Like Thunder
Yu Wei’s heart pounded like thunder. She shook her head lightly.
It really felt like everything had gone back to normal.
She went to and from school alone, walking the same familiar paths. The curious, scrutinizing, or even rejecting glances that landed on her remained the same as always.
But one particularly intense gaze was missing.
Yu Wei figured Yu Wei must be busy—her messages only came around noon and at night, always about day-to-day matters. Not too much, not too little, never crossing any lines.
So Yu Wei never explained the misunderstandings, nor did she bring up what happened that night.
As if nothing had ever happened.
Every few days, she still went to the courtyard to see the old lady. She was still energetic and full of life, always telling her stories about Yu Wei as a child—like how she once lured a stray orange cat home and named it “Gold Medal.”
“She was ambitious and hated losing from the start,” the old lady would say. “Bold too. You think just anyone could walk into someone else’s yard and take home a cat called Gold Medal?”
Yu Wei listened with a bit of envy.
She didn’t have the same drive or clear goals as Yu Wei. She didn’t really know what she wanted or what she wanted to do.
Yu Wei hooked a finger on the drawer and pulled it open, lowering her head to look at the neatly stacked drawing paper and unopened pens. She pressed her lips together and took them out.
This had nothing to do with Yu Wei, she told herself—she just thought the orange cat named Gold Medal sounded cute. And it just so happened she’d run out of sketch paper, so she decided to draw for practice.
Totally normal, right?
Half an hour later, Yu Wei stared blankly at the image of the little orange cat on the large sheet of paper. It felt empty. Like something was missing.
An hour later, the little cat was no longer alone. It was now being held in someone’s arms. One hand gently rested atop its head, long fingers rubbing between its ears, the index finger slightly bent and calloused at the tip.
The cat squinted contentedly under the strokes, chin tilted up, one paw resting on the hand scratching its chin.
Veins and tendons stood out on the arm, following the tight, lean muscle up under the rolled sleeves.
Further up were damp hair ends, water-traced collarbones, and a pair of bright, deep eyes.
Yu Wei’s fingertips slowly traced the line up to the eyes—then her breath hitched.
She jolted upright, grabbed the paper in a panic, crumpled it into a ball, and tossed it into the trash beside her feet.
She was crazy. How could she have drawn that?
The room was silent—no background noise at all. She lay sprawled over the desk, face buried in her arms, her thin shoulder blades rising and falling with erratic breaths.
The sound of her own breathing was amplified by the stillness.
After who knows how long, Yu Wei sat up. Her hair was tousled, her forehead flushed with red from being pressed down.
She bent down, fished the crumpled paper out of the trash, smoothed it out, and carefully tucked it at the very bottom of the drawer.
Buzz—buzz—
Her phone vibrated. Yu Wei glanced at the notification, and her hand slammed the drawer shut with a bang.
Yu Wei: “Just finished training. Are you asleep?”
Even through the screen, it felt like she’d just been caught red-handed.
Yu Wei didn’t breathe for a while. She pressed on the drawer again to make sure it was shut tight, then picked up her phone.
Yu Wei: “No.”
Yu Wei: “When’s the competition?”
Yu Wei: “Tomorrow afternoon.”
Yu Wei: “Is the teacher going with you?”
Yu Wei: “Yeah.”
Yu Wei: “Did you book the hotel?”
Yu Wei: “I did.”
Yu Wei stared at the politely short conversation thread, her finger hovering cautiously away from the input box, afraid that if she accidentally tapped it, it would show “typing…” on Yu Wei’s end.
Maybe Yu Wei thought the same, because there was no new message for a while—and no “typing…” notification either.
The room light was on, and so was the desk lamp. The phone’s screen wasn’t that bright, but it flashed across her eyes before she set it down on the desk pad.
She stood up, turned off the desk lamp, then paused with her hand still on the phone, flipping it over.
Yu Wei had sent her a video.
Yu Wei scrambled to find her earphones—nothing in the drawer, not on the bookshelf, pen box, or storage bin. Then she suddenly remembered: she’d used them to listen to horror stories before bed last night.
She turned back quickly, sat at the edge of her bed, and dug them out from under her pillow.
She put them on and tapped the video.
It was quiet. Only the shhhk of skate blades cutting across the ice could be heard. The person filming had a steady hand and stayed close, following Yu Wei as she spun, leapt, and landed in a tight posture.
The silver blades glinted, shards of ice flying like they were about to burst out of the screen.
“Wow! That was beautiful…”
The voice of the person filming was sweet. The clip ended right as Yu Wei glided closer to the camera.
Abruptly. Three seconds. That was it.
The phone burned hot in Yu Wei’s palm.
She backed out of the video—no new messages in the chat.
Yu Wei: “Did training go well?”
Yu Wei: “It went well.”
A reply in seconds.
But Yu Wei should be sleeping around this time—she always got up early, and the late nights before were exceptions… exceptions, right? The life she had now was what it should be: a proper training facility, teammates—no more loneliness.
She even had someone to record her online classes now. They were more professional, filmed in high quality—not like before, sneaking into commercial rinks at night and ending up with blurry, glitchy footage.
Yu Wei pursed her lips, turned off the lights, and curled up on the bed.
The phone screen lit her face—quiet and pale, like translucent porcelain.
Eventually, the light dimmed as her screen timed out and went dark.
Moonlight filtered through the window, casting a cold shimmer on the foot of the bed.
Buzz—
The screen lit up suddenly.
Yu Wei: “The place where your competition is—it’s not far from here. But I probably can’t make it.”
Yu Wei: “Look outside your window.”
Yu Wei shot up, leaning out to look.
Moonlight shone across a patch of grass in the courtyard, casting rippling shadows. A breeze swept through, rustling the silhouettes of trees, flowing softly into the distance.
Yu Wei: “The moonlight tomorrow should be just as beautiful.”
Yu Wei: “Goodnight.”
Yu Wei lay back down, placed her phone beside her pillow, and didn’t look again—or reply.
…
The competition was being held at a local university. Even though it was in the same city, it wasn’t close by.
The physics teacher was the team leader. After consulting with the students, they decided to take two days off from school and stay overnight at a hotel near the venue to better prepare.
Yu Wei didn’t object. She went along with whatever the group decided.
They left the school together. By the time they arrived, the sun hadn’t set yet. Everyone returned to their rooms to rest and were told to post in the group chat if they had questions.
Most of them were seasoned competitors—familiar with the whole process.
Yu Wei set her backpack down and checked the room. Then she drew the curtains shut, sat at the desk, and pulled out her question booklet and phone.
Yu Wei hadn’t sent any messages since last night.
She placed her phone screen-side up, volume on max, and started reading.
After a while, she flipped the phone over and opened WeChat.
Yu Wei: “I’ve arrived.”
But then she swiped the message away and hit “unsend.”
Yu Wei: “Sorry, wrong button.”
Yu Wei was probably still in training and wouldn’t see the message anyway—better not disturb her.
She refocused on her studying until a classmate knocked, inviting her to join the group for dinner.
The university town had a lot of food options—and lots of people.
Yu Wei didn’t want to go.
She checked the time on her phone and was about to order delivery when a message popped up.
Yu Wei: “Did you get there safely?”
That feeling of being guessed exactly right—it made her feel like even her deleted message had been silently acknowledged.
Yu Wei stared at the screen for a long time.
Yu Wei: “Yeah, I was just about to eat.”
Yu Wei: “There are some highly-rated places nearby you could check out. If you want to explore tonight, go with your classmates. I heard there’s an event by Longxin Lake.”
Yu Wei: “This area has a great campus vibe.”
Yu Wei: “If not, get some rest early.”
Four messages in a row—then silence.
It felt like she had picked up her phone in a rush and typed those during a brief gap.
Yu Wei: “Got it.”
Yu Wei: “You go do your thing.”
Yu Wei: “Got some stuff going on here.”
Yu Wei: “If you head out tonight, send me a message.”
Yu Wei: “Mm.”
Yu Wei sent no more. There was no “typing…” notification either.
Yu Wei closed WeChat. The food delivery app was still open, with all sorts of highly-rated restaurants. But she had no appetite anymore.
Her classmates returned after dinner and knocked on her door again. “Hey, I heard there’s a street dance event by Longxin Lake tonight—wanna go?”
It was dark outside now. Yu Wei glanced at the window.
The night wasn’t as clear as last night—the moon was hidden behind clouds.
She clenched her phone, stood up, and said, “Sure.”
It was impulsive. She didn’t even know why she said it. She just grabbed her phone and opened the door.
By the time they were downstairs waiting for a ride, Yu Wei finally snapped back to herself.
Too late.
Two girls were chatting about what kind of dance group was hosting the event—some university club or a dance school. One of the guys showed off a few moves and made them laugh.
Even if it wasn’t for any specific reason—it was good to get out.
Yu Wei exhaled, pulling her hat lower.
It was late autumn—cold enough for her to wear her fisherman-style hat, which sloped downward and could hide most of her face in soft lighting.
It made her feel safe.
In the car, her classmates chatted with the friendly driver.
When he learned they were locals, he said, “What’s there to do at Longxin Lake? Just a lot of people.”
“We’re here to people-watch.”
“Looking for cute guys?” the driver joked.
“Also cute girls!”
Yu Wei leaned against the door silently, never imagining she’d one day lose her mind enough to go to a crowded, unfamiliar place with people she barely knew—just to watch strangers dance.
More like a nightmare than a dream.
They followed the crowd around a big loop, past food stalls, heading toward the cheers and music.
It was packed.
Three rows deep, inside and out. Voices and bass thumped together.
Yu Wei stopped cold—regretting everything.
Her feet felt glued to the ground.
“You okay?” her classmate asked, concerned.
“I’ll just…” Yu Wei started to make up an excuse to step aside.
But she paused mid-sentence. Her head snapped up, staring into the crowd.
It wasn’t a dramatic movement, but it startled her classmate, who looked in the same direction. “See someone you know? It’s kinda dark over there.”
It wasn’t just dark—it was pitch black. No streetlights. The moon was still behind clouds. All she could see was shifting silhouettes.
But amid those overlapping shadows, one gaze burned straight into her—blazing, unrelenting.
Yu Wei ran toward the crowd, lifting her hat brim, pushing through the throng, searching one face after another.
No. Not them.
Not there.
She made it to the front, surrounded by strangers.
Yu Wei stood frozen, her stomach swirling with hunger and the sour-sweet taste of hawthorn.
“You ran so fast, we nearly lost you.” Her classmate squeezed over, apologizing to others, then looked at Yu Wei’s dazed face. “Did you find the person?”
Yu Wei shook her head.
Then, after a pause, she turned her face slightly, eyes drifting toward a vague point in the crowd—and slowly pulled them back.
“I did,” she said softly, lips pressed tight, eyes lowered.
Moonlight pierced the clouds, silvery and cool, scattering across the ground like ripples.
She took off her hat, and her pale hair fell loose around her shoulders.
Gasps came from those nearby.
Yu Wei tensed, holding her breath.
The noise and chaos faded like a retreating tide—only one gaze grew stronger, fiercer.
“Where?” her classmate looked around. “Aren’t you going to meet them?”
Yu Wei’s heart pounded like thunder.
She shook her head gently.