Unbearable - Chapter 46

Chapter 46: “Your sister will be happy to see you.”

 

Yu Wei had no idea how the performance went.

 

On the ride back, the others were excitedly discussing the flyers they received, saying that when they got to college, they should definitely learn something like that—cool, stylish, and beautiful!

 

After the heated discussion, someone suddenly realized that Yu Wei, sitting in the front, hadn’t joined in. “We didn’t see your friend earlier—wasn’t she there?”

 

“No way,” someone in the back immediately chimed in.

 

The previously lively atmosphere in the car instantly fell silent.

 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” the classmate apologized quietly. “I just meant… it’s also possible that…”

 

“I know.”

 

Yu Wei pursed her lips. Her soft voice carried a barely detectable hint of joy as she turned off her phone and said nothing more.

 

It was quite eye-catching.

 

Even though the crowd was large and she stood at the very back—too short to be seen clearly—her unusual and eccentric presence was conspicuous. Anyone who knew her would have noticed.

 

She was no stranger to being stared at with strange looks. That classmate’s instinctive reaction was simply the truth.

 

The sudden silence and uneasy apology were like a soft thorn pressing into her skin, sinking in and leaving a tiny hollow—an invisible ache.

 

Subtle and deeply uncomfortable if dwelled upon.

 

She tried hard to act normal, to hide anything that might seem off about her, even wishing she could become completely invisible in the crowd.

 

But she knew the feeling of being unseen, of being unnecessary.

 

It hurt.

 

Now, she had found her existence reflected in someone’s gaze—so clear it eclipsed all others.

 

A secret thrill.

 

Yu Wei didn’t see Yu Wei the entire night, nor did she go looking for her.

 

Their WeChat conversation still rested on the messages from that afternoon. Neither of them had sent anything since.

 

Not long after she returned to the hotel, her phone buzzed.

 

Yu Wei: “Just finished. Rest early. Good luck tomorrow.”

 

Yu Wei: “Goodnight.”

 

Moonlight spilled in from outside the window, landing on Yu Wei’s lowered lashes.

 

Yu Wei pursed her lips and smiled.

 

…: “Goodnight.”

 

The competition was scheduled in the morning. After finishing the test, the teacher booked a private room at a nearby restaurant for everyone. Once the meal was over, the event was considered done.

 

After lunch, the boys decided to stay behind to meet up with friends, while the two other girls chose to head home.

 

Yu Wei went with them.

 

They stood by the roadside waiting for a car. The teacher casually asked how the outing went last night.

 

Yu Wei stood beneath a banyan tree, listening to the other two girls share their experiences from the performance. The teacher encouraged them to pursue hobbies they liked in college.

 

She stood in fragmented light and shadow, her feet stepping on soft fallen leaves by the roadside. Suddenly, she turned her head.

 

Her face was buried in her collar, only the tip of her chin exposed. The brim of her bucket hat obscured her view. She tilted her head slightly, revealing more of her face from the collar.

 

Her gaze landed on a row of restaurants across the street. It was mealtime, and the area bustled with people.

 

They had just exited a Hunan cuisine restaurant that was packed with customers. Many were crowded at the entrance waiting to be seated.

 

Next door, a lamb soup shop looked deserted. Just then, a figure slipped inside, leaving the glass door swinging.

 

“Want something to eat?”

 

The owner at the front counter set down his phone and looked at the newcomer, raising his voice to repeat, “There are seats inside. What would you like? Lamb soup, lamb stew, grilled lamb chops—menu’s on the wall.”

 

“…Just a flatbread.”

 

“We don’t sell bread alone.”

 

Yu Wei’s eyes were still fixed on the street outside. She watched someone squinting under the sparse shadows of the trees, lashes like scattered snow on her cheeks, seemingly about to glance over.

 

She nearly got caught again.

 

Yu Wei pressed her lips together behind her mask. Thankfully, the glass was clean and transparent, and from this angle, she could still see Yu Wei’s teacher saying something. The group began looking at the approaching cars, turning their heads left and right.

 

Only Yu Wei remained still, standing on tiptoe, again and again.

 

Yu Wei watched the wide autumn school jacket, the tips of her fingers exposed from the sleeves, and her fleeting glances filled with urgency when she turned.

 

Her gaze was nearly greedy.

 

Time was short. There was no practice today, but she still had to apply for leave to step out during this closed training period. Two hours yesterday, just one hour today.

 

She still hadn’t figured out how to face Yu Wei.

 

She had replayed it in her head several times and was now certain Yu Wei didn’t like her in that way. It had been a misunderstanding all along.

 

But… she missed her terribly.

 

Yu Wei stood up and moved to the door. Through the glass, she watched the group by the road flagging down a car.

 

Yu Wei turned slightly, as if to look back—but didn’t fully turn.

 

“There it is, that should be it. The white car, license ends in 695,” a classmate squinted and waved.

 

The car arrived.

 

Yu Wei gripped her phone tightly. The screen lit up suddenly.

 

Yu Wei: “Finished the test?”

 

Yu Wei’s motion to turn froze for a moment. In a flash, she turned back around, pretending nothing had happened.

 

…: “Mm, heading home now.”
…: “You done with training?”

 

Yu Wei: “Not yet.”

 

…: “You have training even on Sunday?”

 

Yu Wei didn’t reply. No typing indicator either. The gaze behind her felt almost tangible.

 

…: “I’m leaving now.”

 

The car had just made a U-turn and stopped by the curb.

 

The teacher opened the front door and got in. The two other girls ducked into the back seats.

 

Yu Wei suddenly raised her phone, pointing the camera behind her.

 

“What are you taking pictures of?”

 

Yu Wei got into the car, pulling the door shut. She glanced lightly out the window. “Just a keepsake.”

 

“You’ve come here every year for this competition. Still need keepsakes?”

 

“That’s called a sense of ritual, okay? Don’t talk if you don’t get it,” said the girl in the middle, elbowing her.

 

Yu Wei didn’t respond.

 

She turned away from the window and looked down at her phone. The picture had been snapped too hastily and was slightly blurry.

 

Half of her own face took up a third of the frame. Behind her were the sparse, withered branches of the banyan tree. In the blurry space between a figure and an advertisement sign, there was a thin, black silhouette.

 

Even zoomed in, it was still unclear.

 

“I posted the pics of last night’s outing on Moments. If you want the originals, I can send them,” the girl in the middle said, turning to Yu Wei.

 

Yu Wei was about to decline but changed her mind mid-sentence. “I’ll take a look.”

 

They had created a group chat for this competition, and everyone added each other.

 

Yu Wei opened WeChat Moments. The very first post was from that girl—lots of photos. Yu Wei clicked through them all carefully.

 

Not a single one had Yu Wei in them.

 

So good at hiding.

 

Yu Wei pressed her lips together. “No need, I downloaded them.”

 

She exited WeChat and leaned against the car door with her eyes closed for a few seconds. Then she picked up her phone again and posted the blurry picture she had taken to her Moments.

 

She didn’t have many friends. Only a handful of contacts on WeChat.

 

Not long after posting, a few people liked it.

 

Soon after, Cheng Miao commented:
“Oh no Xiao Wei, I think I’m hallucinating. One of the figures in your photo looks kind of like… but not really… but definitely can’t be… so I’m definitely imagining things. I’m sick, sob sob sob sob sob”.

 

Right after the comment, Cheng Miao messaged her.

 

Cheng Miao: “Are your parents letting you go to the match?”

 

…: “Probably.”

 

Cheng Miao: “Your mom seems elegant and beautiful—definitely open-minded. Talk to her nicely. If she’s worried and wants to go with you, I’ll buy another ticket. But the good seats are already taken.”

 

…: “It won’t be like that.”

 

Yu Wei didn’t specify what “won’t be like that” meant. Cheng Miao sensed something, felt a little sour inside, but didn’t press further.”

 

Cheng Miao: “It’s okay. If not, I’ll talk to your mom. I’ll guarantee your safety.”

 

Cheng Miao: “Worst case, we go guerrilla-style—just watch the women’s free skate, go and come back the same day. Guaranteed secrecy!”

 

She was experienced with sneaking out for fun, though her mom had caught her so many times that she eventually laid down rules: no overnight trips for long-distance outings unless accompanied. That’s how she learned restraint.

 

Yu Wei smiled despite herself.

 

…: “No need. It won’t happen.”

 

Ding Qing never used to care whether she was home, where she went, who she was with, or what trouble she got into.

 

But now… Yu Wei wasn’t so sure.

 

…: “I’ll ask when I get back.”

 

The car stopped at the school gate. With no classes on Sunday, the nearby area was quiet.

 

They all parted ways there and headed home.

 

It was still midday. Yu Wei stood there for a moment, then turned into the alley across the street.

 

When she got home, night had already fallen completely. It was well past her usual time, but there were no missed calls or messages on her phone.

 

No need to ask, then.

 

She changed into slippers and passed through the lit living room. As she walked past the study at the foot of the stairs, she noticed the door wasn’t shut all the way—just slightly ajar.

 

She glanced inside.

 

Ding Qing was surrounded by piles of documents. The computer screen cast a glow over her face.

 

Yu Wei hesitated for a few seconds, then knocked on the door.

 

“Come in.”

 

Ding Qing looked up. “You’re back. There’s still food in the fridge.”

 

“Thanks, Mom. I’ve eaten.” Yu Wei lowered her gaze, glancing over the messy papers and the constantly buzzing phone that was being silenced repeatedly.

 

Ding Qing put the phone in the drawer and started organizing the papers. Looking up at Yu Wei, she said, “Work things… it’s hard to tie up all the loose ends.”

 

“You should go back to work.”

 

“…What?” Ding Qing’s movements paused.

 

Yu Wei looked at her, lips pressed together. “You’re doing well at home, but Mom… when a person loses their sense of value and purpose, it’s painful. You don’t need to do this.”

 

The notebook’s cooling fan whirred steadily in the quiet room. Outside, the autumn insects chirped, breaking the silence.

 

Ding Qing sighed, looking at her. “You’ve grown up. All of a sudden, you’re so grown that by the time I want to make up for things… you don’t need it anymore.”

 

Yu Wei opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again.

 

“Thank you, Xiao Wei. Go rest. As for everything else… I’ll think about it.”

 

The phone kept buzzing softly in the drawer.

 

Yu Wei turned to leave but paused at the door. “Next month, my sister has a competition.”

 

“Do you want to go see her?” Ding Qing asked directly, eyes on Yu Wei.

 

Yu Wei was silent for a few seconds, then nodded. “I do.”

 

“Then go,” Ding Qing said gently, looking much more relaxed now. She even smiled. “You never brought it up. I thought maybe you didn’t want to go because of the crowds.”

 

Yu Wei froze.

 

Ding Qing’s expression was soft, even showing a rare hint of maternal affection. “Your sister will be happy to see you.”

 

…Will she?

 

Yu Wei looked down.

 

It didn’t feel like she wanted to see her.

 

Yu Wei stepped out of the study, quietly closed the door, and walked up the stairs.

 

The light at the top wasn’t on. She climbed in silence, swallowed by darkness like a deep abyss.

 

Her phone buzzed faintly in her pocket.

 

Yu Wei took it out. A notification from Moments.

 

She opened it. It was the same photo she posted earlier, no caption. The latest like was from someone with an ice skate icon—Yu Wei.

 

No comment.

 

No message.

 

Yu Wei leaned against the wall and sat down on the stairs.

 

The screen’s soft glow lit up her lips, gently pressed together in a subtle, curved smile.