Chapter Thirty-Seven: The Conditions for Harm

Chapter 37: The Conditions of Hurt

Angrily pushing open the restaurant door, I grabbed Su Xuefei’s small hand and strode away with long, determined steps.

Walking on the freshly laid snow, I felt sharp pangs in my heart. What has become of this world? Why do the people I care about—both past and present—treat me this way? Have I done something wrong? Or must all these grievances be attributed to the overused phrase, "things change, people change"?

Furious, I kicked aside a pile of snow beneath a streetlamp, then instinctively reached for a cigarette. Opening the pack, I found it empty. Disregarding any sense of decorum, I crushed the box and threw it to the ground before turning to find a shop to buy another pack.

“Yang Chen, what’s wrong?” Su Xuefei followed my pace, seemingly puzzled by my anger.

“What do you mean, what’s wrong? They were insulting us! Someone as smart as you can’t not see that!” I stopped and spoke harshly, “Don’t you get angry when others say such things about you? What am I supposed to say—are you a saint?”

Su Xuefei stared at me, stunned, then lowered her head and whispered, “How could I not know…”

Her words made me turn my head away. What am I doing? After all, Su Xuefei is hurt because of me. Why should I vent my anger on her?

“I…”

“Yang Chen, if the grudges of others make you sad and angry, then ultimately, it’s ourselves we are hurting,” Su Xuefei interrupted softly, lowering her gaze. “There are no saints in this world. Everyone gets hurt. Whether the wounds are physical or emotional, in the end, aren’t we the ones who hurt ourselves?”

I looked at her and gently brushed off the snow from her shoulder, trying to soften my voice. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.”

Su Xuefei lifted her tear-filled eyes to meet mine and spoke tenderly, “To me, it doesn’t matter what they say or do, whether they are here or not—it has nothing to do with me. The only ones who can truly hurt me are those I care about. Only their words and actions can pierce through my heart. Do you understand, Yang Chen?”

I stood there, helplessly watching tears trace down her cheeks. From the beginning until now, the deepest wounds she has suffered have been caused by me—because of my enthusiastic invitation to a dinner she didn’t want to attend, because of my embarrassment when those sleazy men spoke rudely, and because of my impulsiveness, which wounded her fragile and pure heart.

In truth, it was my mistake, a grave and fundamental one from the start.

My hand trembled as I lifted it to gently wipe away her tears. Whispering, “I’m sorry.”

***

Su Xuefei was surprised by my gesture but soon wiped her own eyes and forced a faint smile. “Don’t apologize—I won’t accept it. Besides, I’m a bit hungry. Let’s find somewhere to eat?”

I nodded and led her into a ramen shop. She truly seemed hungry and finished an entire bowl of beef noodles. Though this might seem ordinary to most, for someone who often dines with Su Xuefei, seeing her finish the whole bowl startled me.

I didn’t bother looking for a store to buy cigarettes. At the counter, I bought a pack at a marked-up price. Su Xuefei standing beside me seemed displeased, pouting and trying to stop me, though without any real action.

“The evening’s getting late. Let’s go back. My hometown doesn’t have many interesting places,” I said.

“On the contrary, I think it’s nice here. If I could spend my life with someone I love in this place, it would be wonderful.”

I smiled and said, “Alright then, Su Goddess, when you find the other half of your life, come here. I’ll always welcome you two as the perfect couple!”

“You think so…” Su Xuefei glanced at me, then looked up at the starry sky, lost in thought.

“Hmm.”

“Sometimes you’re really dumb. No wonder the homeroom teacher always calls you to the office!”

“Hey, you know it yourself; no need to say it and make me feel worse!”

We walked home at a leisurely pace. The windows were dark—my parents and Xiao Ya must have already gone to bed. We carefully hung our coats and tiptoed back to our rooms.

Lying in bed, I absentmindedly checked my phone and saw several new messages: one from Shi Yu, two from Zhao Kewen, and one from… Luo Qing.

“Where are you?” Shi Yu’s message was brief and straightforward. Glancing at the date—Friday—I immediately understood. Shi Yu must have gone to the ice cream shop looking for me as usual, but Yang Xiaoyu hadn’t told me she was home, so Shi Yu was checking. Why a message instead of a call? I guessed Shi Yu was smart enough to see through Yang Xiaoyu’s deception, and she knew I purposely avoided telling her to spare myself trouble. Despite the simplicity of the two words, my heart was warmed—Shi Yu understands me best.

“At home, in bed,” I replied simply, confident Shi Yu would understand.

I opened Zhao Kewen’s messages. The first read: “Where did you run off to, little brother? Long night, big sister misses you!”

I laughed and opened her second message: “Tell me honestly where you went, or don’t blame me if I’m ruthless!”

I grinned and typed back: “The little brother is resting at home for a while. I promise to come and apologize properly when I get the chance!” Then I hit send.

Only Luo Qing’s familiar but distant number remained. After hesitation, I decided to delete her message immediately. Out of sight, out of mind. Whatever she said was her business and no longer mine. We should never have anything to do with each other again.

Before I could put down my phone, it vibrated unexpectedly. Opening the screen, it was Shi Yu again: “When will you be back? An Ye and You Qin might pass through here soon. Will you pick them up?”

“Sis, I’m not going.”

“Did something happen?”

“Nothing. Sis, you should rest early. Don’t tire yourself out.”

Shi Yu didn’t reply again. I tossed the phone on the table, pulled the covers over me, and closed my eyes, preparing to sleep.

The night in Jinlan was so quiet, the complete opposite of Yichun’s bustling evening. Though I knew Yichun’s lively nights better, I didn’t like that life. It felt as if everyone wore a hat labeled “busy,” searching in the darkness for their lost selves—or trying to figure out how they got lost.

***

“Yang Chen, are you asleep?”

Just as I drifted into aimless thoughts, Su Xuefei’s gentle voice slipped through the door crack.

“Why are you here again?” I opened the door, heart involuntarily quickening at the sight of the pure, lotus-like Su Goddess bathed in moonlight.

“Can’t sleep,” she said coquettishly, then walked into my room and flopped onto my bed.

“Are you trying to make me sleepy? If I were you, I’d find the recordings of our high school homeroom teacher’s lectures on the forum. Listening to them always works wonders!” I closed the door and sat on the edge of the bed, watching Su Xuefei curl up uncomfortably.

“It only works for you,” she muffled into the pillow, sounding cozy but faint.

“Don’t tell me you used to treat insomnia that way…”

I smiled awkwardly and gazed out at the starry sky. Quietly, I said, “Wouldn’t it be nice if people were like stars—no need to shine themselves, yet poets and painters praise them.”

“Do you like celebrities?” Su Xuefei sat up, leaning against the wall, asking a question seemingly unrelated to my musings.

“I meant the stars in the sky, not movie or pop stars…”

“Oh, I remember you once said you liked celebrities. Just suddenly thought to ask.”

Looking at her thinly clad form, I whispered, “I’ll buy you some pajamas tomorrow.”

“What’s wrong?” Su Xuefei looked down at her clothes. “Is something wrong?”

“Nothing much. I just worry I might accidentally see something I shouldn’t, and that wouldn’t be fair to you.” I glanced at her, then quickly looked away. I didn’t know why my eyes wouldn’t look in the right direction when I spoke.

Su Xuefei instinctively hugged herself and softly asked, “Are you still upset about tonight?”

I smiled, “Why would I be upset?”

She didn’t reply but continued to look at me, making me a little embarrassed. Then she explained, “Since I was little, I’ve been betrayed and used over and over. I’m used to it. So many people can hurt me—it doesn’t make a difference if it’s just one more.”

“Does it really not make a difference?” I asked.

Su Xuefei smiled gently and moved closer, whispering in my ear, “You don’t matter. I’m not afraid.”

“Not afraid?” I was puzzled. Normally, everyone fears pain and betrayal, the feeling of gaining something only to lose it.

“Yeah, because I have very few friends. None of them would betray me.”

“What if Qin Xiaomo ever used you? What would you do?” I asked, letting her lean on me, curious.

“If that day ever comes, maybe I’d go crazy… Whether it’s Xiaomo or you, it’s the same. Once hurt, maybe it would be fatal.” Su Xuefei thought for a moment, then smiled as if talking about someone else, appearing indifferent.