Chapter 229: IF Route 1 (Extra 3)
Wu Heng liked to walk close to the walls, slightly lowering his head. Because of that, he knew exactly which sidewalk tiles were cracked on the way from school to home, and he was perfectly aware of where every street stall was set up along the road.
That didn’t mean he cared about those things. It only meant his life was unbearably dull.
But even in such lifeless days, there was still a little spark of interest—
Some time ago, on his eighteenth birthday, an adult who… well… looked very much like the class monitor from his class barged into his home and brutally beat up Wu Shiming, who had been ab*sing him. Wu Shiming lost the use of one hand; he had to wear a cast for three months, and the aftereffects would stay with him for the rest of his life. No matter how you looked at it, that counted as good news for Wu Heng.
Although he had no idea where that person, who resembled the class monitor, had come from—he was certain that man was not actually the class monitor he knew.
If the appearance of that person only amused Wu Heng for a few seconds, then the young man who came together with him—someone who looked strikingly similar to himself—left him utterly shocked, unable to sleep at night.
He was even more certain that the other person had nothing to do with him, because he himself didn’t have such long hair, didn’t have nocturnal-cat-like green eyes, and certainly didn’t possess that careless confidence and outstanding presence that made it seem as though everything was under control. He himself was more like plankton floating on filthy water, ready to be scorched to death by sunlight at any moment.
Several times, he thought it had all been a dream.
But Wu Shiming’s constant cursing every few days kept reminding him that it wasn’t.
He might have encountered another version of himself. The other person might have come from another world—and seemed to be living very well.
That made Wu Heng feel a little better about his own life, because the other version of himself was simply too happy, and energy could neither be created nor destroyed.
Wu Heng didn’t think too deeply about why the version of himself from that world was together with a man who resembled the class monitor. That version of him probably had his own social circle and relationships.
Other than that, nothing in Wu Heng’s life had changed. Warmhearted Grandma Lin, his airheaded childhood friend Lin Mengzhi, and his silly little sister Wu Zhi—those were the entirety of his world.
“Wu Heng, are you sure you’re not joining the study tour?” His deskmate Yang Ao held several registration forms in his hand. “Which universities do you think I should visit for the program?”
Wu Heng glanced at the forms. All of the universities ranked within the country’s top ten. With Yang Ao’s grades… there really wasn’t much need to worry about it. But Wu Heng didn’t comment. He simply said softly, “Any of them.”
Yang Ao wasn’t actually concerned about whether Wu Heng would join the study tour or not, and he didn’t care that Wu Heng had ignored the first question. His focus was on the second one, so he slapped the desk decisively.
“Then I’ll go to all of them!”
The class academic representative had taken leave, so the class monitor was collecting the registration forms one by one in his place. When he reached Wu Heng’s desk, the form there was completely blank.
“None of them interest you?”
School was almost over. Wu Heng slipped the test papers he had received into his backpack one by one, lowering his eyes as he answered, “I don’t want to go.”
“Traveling around and seeing new places can be pretty interesting. You don’t like it?” Xie Chongyi asked with a smile.
Only then did Wu Heng raise his eyelids slightly. He glanced at Xie Chongyi very quickly before lowering his head again.
“Whether I like it or not doesn’t matter.”
After saying that, the teenager zipped up his backpack. Leaving behind a polite “Excuse me, please move,” he waited for Xie Chongyi to step aside, then walked out of the classroom without raising his eyes again.
Xie Chongyi’s expression remained calm and unreadable. Only after a long moment did his gaze follow the other boy’s retreating figure all the way to the classroom door.
A very strange feeling began to grow in his heart. It wasn’t “So there are actually people in this world who would treat me with such indifference.” Rather, it was the realization that a single person could simultaneously evoke two completely contradictory urges in someone else: the desire to hurt them, and the desire to protect them.
But Xie Chongyi himself didn’t feel much about it. He merely recognized it as an objectively existing fact.
“Class Monitor, Class Monitor! Mine, mine!” Yang Ao waved the registration form he had already filled out.
Xie Chongyi snapped back to attention, gathered the registration forms into his hands, and casually skimmed through them.
“You picked these universities… are you planning to repeat a year and make a final push, or are you preparing in advance for postgraduate entrance exams?”
Yang Ao’s mouth dropped open wide enough to fit a duck egg inside.
“If you repeat a year, at most your score might improve by one or two hundred points. Those schools still wouldn’t be very realistic. And preparing for graduate school selection is way too early right now. Why not think it over a bit more?” The class monitor was, as always, conscientious and responsible.
“Or have you participated in any competitions before? Preferably the kind where you won a national-level award.”
Yang Ao: “…”
—
Wu Heng headed home alone, but halfway there he made a detour to pick up Wu Zhi, who had already been waiting at kindergarten for two hours. Zeng Like and Wu Shiming both had jobs, and they often had to work overtime, so taking care of Wu Zhi had completely become his responsibility. Even if she had to wait at kindergarten for two hours, Wu Heng could still always find her in the sandbox.
After thanking the teacher, Wu Heng led Wu Zhi out through the school gates. Wu Zhi clung closely behind him.
“Big brother, are you in a bad mood?”
“No.”
“But I feel like you are.”
“Then your feeling is wrong.”
“Then do you want to see the craft our teacher taught us to make today?”
“No.”
Wu Zhi was, according to modern medical standards, genuinely intellectually disabled. Around her, Wu Heng felt very relaxed. She rummaged through her backpack behind him and pulled out a paper flower that had already been squashed flat. Holding it out proudly in front of him, she walked backward as she spoke.
“Isn’t it pretty?! I spent a really long time making it. Even though the others finished much faster than me, none of theirs looked as nice as mine.”
Wu Heng understood immediately: she had simply made hers both ugly and slow. Even as a fool, she was very good at finding excuses for herself.
Wu Heng listened to her chatter endlessly. Around them was the roar of traffic; electric bikes and bicycles darted recklessly through the streams of cars on both sides of the road. An old low-speed electric car came charging straight toward Wu Heng and Wu Zhi, its horn blaring nonstop.
The teenager stepped half a pace to the side, watching Wu Zhi indifferently as she remained immersed in her own little world.
Only when the old man’s angry shouting from the approaching car became increasingly clear did Wu Heng finally show a bit of kindness and pull Wu Zhi aside.
“Stupid old geezer!” Wu Zhi exclaimed, still shaken. “Big brother, you saved me! I love you!”
—
After Wu Shiming’s hand was ruined, the atmosphere at home became unbearably oppressive. Wu Heng used the excuse of going to Lin Mengzhi’s house to do homework.
“Ahhh—I’m exhausted,” Lin Mengzhi groaned as he sprawled across the sofa. “A bunch of students came into the shop today. They were ridiculously noisy and destructive! My arms are so sore I can barely lift them!”
“Oh right, aren’t you guys supposed to go on some kind of study tour? Like visiting universities and stuff?”
Wu Heng lay facedown on the coffee table. “They’re going. I’m not.”
“Why not? No money?” Lin Mengzhi himself hated studying, but he had plenty of ways out in life. There was his parents’ compensation money, his grandmother’s pension, and aside from disliking school, he was willing to do almost anything. But his childhood friend didn’t really have any options. The only way for Wu Heng to get far away from the awful couple upstairs was to get into a good university.
“No,” Wu Heng said, shaking his head while facing away from Lin Mengzhi. “I’ve already decided which university I want to attend, so there’s no point visiting other schools. It’s a waste of time and money.”
Lin Mengzhi replied, “Isn’t that still because of money? Just go take a look. What if you find one you like even more?”
Seeing that Wu Heng gave no reaction at all, Lin Mengzhi cursed under his breath and sprang up from the sofa. Leaning over beside Wu Heng, he shoved his phone screen in front of him. Wu Heng glanced sideways slightly and saw it.
“Look, okay? I’ve got a little money saved here. It’s supposed to be my future wedding fund, but I don’t need it right now. I can lend it to you first, and you can pay me back once you’ve got money later. Besides, one trip like this would only cost a few thousand yuan at most, right? Your short-lived excuse for a father already treats you terribly enough, so you should at least treat yourself a little better,” Lin Mengzhi said earnestly.
But Wu Heng was not someone who could be persuaded through mere coaxing. The reason he didn’t want to go wasn’t truly because he disliked the trip itself—it was because he didn’t want to go together with the people in his class. He wasn’t familiar with any of them. Sitting in the same bus and sharing the same room with them all felt completely unnecessary.
“I’ll just go by myself,” he told only Lin Mengzhi.
“Knew you’d come around.” Lin Mengzhi believed he had successfully convinced Wu Heng. Crossing his legs smugly, he looked thoroughly pleased with himself.
When it came to academics, Wu Shiming and Zeng Like did not mistreat Wu Heng. If Wu Heng failed in life, the one whose quality of life would decrease in the future would also be Wu Zhi.
So when Wu Heng said he wanted to go on the study trip with his classmates, Zeng Like even transferred him some money.
On the day he packed his luggage, Wu Zhi quietly snuck into Wu Heng’s room that night and stuffed a thick roll of hundred-yuan bills into his blanket.
“I can’t give all of it to big brother. I have to save some money for taking care of big brother when he’s old.”
“I’ll bring you snacks when I come back,” Wu Heng said lightly.
Wu Zhi became delighted and immediately stuffed another roll of cash into his blanket.
…
The next day, Friday, Wu Heng dragged his suitcase downstairs. In the apartment hallway, Lin Mengzhi had appeared even earlier than him, sitting atop an absurdly oversized suitcase.
Hearing movement, he raised his head proudly.
“Hehehe, these past two days I kept seeing posts online about scams and human trafficking. After thinking about it, I figured I should go with you after all. Besides, I haven’t traveled anywhere for a long time. When the time comes, you can explain to me how all those ruins and historical relics came about…”
The sunlight was dazzling. As Wu Heng walked out of the building, a long-lost smile appeared on his face.
Very soon, he would truly leave this place behind.
Their trip was different from the one arranged by the school. Their first stop was Red City. In the weather of March and April, Red City was hot during the day and cold at night. During daytime, Wu Heng wore a baseball cap to shield himself from the sun; his face was so small that it almost disappeared beneath the brim.
Meanwhile, afraid of getting lost, Lin Mengzhi bought one of those anti-lost spring cords made for children, fastening one end to himself and the other to Wu Heng. He listened to Wu Heng explaining historical sites and famous figures in a muddled haze, barely understanding anything. By the time they left Red City, he only felt as though his entire body had turned red from the heat and sun.
They only stayed at the first stop for three days. On the fourth day, as soon as they arrived at the second destination, the two of them spent an entire day eating meat sandwiches and liangpi (cold noodles). It wasn’t until the second day that they finally visited two universities, followed by several nationally renowned historical sites—an experience that left Lin Mengzhi nearly as shocked as the liangpi itself.
“Maybe we should just pick a university here,” Lin Mengzhi said, clearly tempted. “The liangpi is so good.”
“…Lamb soup with flatbread is a bit hard to break apart,” Wu Heng replied.
“Alright! Then we’ll keep looking.”
They wandered around the second stop for about a week. The third and final stop came soon after. On the platform while waiting for the high-speed train, Wu Heng handed his suitcase to Lin Mengzhi and, standing to the side, began crossing out his list of backup universities one by one in his notebook. He did want to leave “home,” but he was also realizing that he now had better choices.
“What car are you in? I’m in car 6.”
“Aren’t we all together?”
“Then what seat numbers are you?”
“…”
Wu Heng didn’t hear any familiar voice. Instead, Lin Mengzhi was distracted by the chatter around them. He nudged Wu Heng with his elbow.
“A’Heng, look—don’t those uniforms look the same as the ones from your school?”
Only then did Wu Heng look up.
“Seems like it.”
After confirming it, he indifferently lowered his gaze again.
Lin Mengzhi stood tall, blocking Wu Heng from view. Until they boarded the train, the dozen or so students never saw Wu Heng. They entered through the front door of carriage 6 one after another and quickly took their seats. It wasn’t until Wu Heng and Lin Mengzhi entered from the back door that some of them finally noticed him.
“Wu Heng, didn’t you say you weren’t coming?!” Yang Ao’s voice was loud enough that it immediately drew everyone’s attention to him.
Wu Heng didn’t feel awkward, nor did he bother explaining. Lin Mengzhi waved his hand casually.
“Going with you guys isn’t that interesting anyway.”
After saying that, he added, “We’re here—6B and 6C.”
He easily lifted the suitcase onto the luggage rack. Wu Heng sat down in the middle seat and was about to continue planning the next stop’s itinerary when he suddenly felt someone’s gaze on his profile. He turned his head and met the other person’s eyes.
Wu Heng didn’t expect it to be such a coincidence. He even looked up at the overhead sign again to confirm that he and Lin Mengzhi were indeed in the right seats, only then withdrawing his gaze.
“Class Monitor, you’re in 6A?”
Xie Chongyi’s eyes carried a teasing hint. “Maybe.”
Wu Heng blinked once, clearly not used to being looked at like that. No one had ever looked at him in that way before. He didn’t understand what it meant, nor why the other person was looking at him like that—like someone lightly hooking a finger under his chin in a teasing gesture.
He stood there blankly for a moment before finally looking away. Leaning back into his seat, he closed his eyes.
Soon after, a teacher walked through the aisle, checking each row carefully, worried someone might be missing. When she saw Wu Heng, she immediately called out, “Oh—there’s one extra!”
Before Wu Heng could react, she had already added his name to the attendance list. Seeing him open his mouth, she said sternly, “Do your parents know you’re not traveling with the rest of your class?”
“…”
Lin Mengzhi stretched his neck from the side. “Teacher, then add my name too.”
After the teacher left, Wu Heng slowly exhaled.
Someone beside him handed him a bottle of water.
“Drink some water.”
Wu Heng didn’t take it.
“I haven’t opened it,” the other person added.
Wu Heng shook his head. “I’m not thirsty. Thank you.”
The boy looked obedient and quiet, but his pale lips and dark eyes made it obvious that his mood was poor—almost even gloomy.
Lin Mengzhi poked his head over. “A’Heng, your teacher is actually pretty responsible.”
The water Xie Chongyi had offered was quietly withdrawn.
Wu Heng wasn’t talkative. Once on the train, he either read e-books or slept. But sitting next to Xie Chongyi, he found he couldn’t do either of those things today. He wasn’t used to being in such close proximity to someone. It felt like a kind of intrusion. Even though the other person had done nothing at all, the side of his body facing him felt warmer, as if even his body temperature had risen. He was tense.
Xie Chongyi, unlike Wu Heng, was not so easily on edge.
Leaning back in his seat, he used his tablet to look through pre-downloaded study materials. He stayed focused for a full half hour. When he finally paused to rest, he propped his head up with one hand and let his gaze drift casually to Wu Heng, who had his head lowered as if dozing off.
The other boy’s face and neck were pale, almost entirely white. His skin clung tightly to bone—nothing about him looked soft or full, but neither did he appear fragile. There was a certain sharpness to him instead. Especially in his eyes: if one wasn’t careful, a hint of impatience or even faint hostility could slip through, though it was often hidden beneath slightly longer, messy bangs.
Xie Chongyi had paid attention to every student in the class. After all, he was the class monitor.
But Wu Heng was the only one who became more interesting the more he was observed—more interesting than even himself in a way.
A person who, in his own way, was also putting on an act.
