Chapter 6: Please Reconsider A Bit

Wang Canghai and Yin Aiguo heard the sounds of a nearby scuffle, turning around at the same time to check it out. Across the path were the figures of Zhou Rong and Bowlcut—Wang Canghai couldn't remember his name for the life of him—although the fight ended as soon as it started.

She had both his arms interlocked behind his back, a knee on the small of his back. She glanced up at them, noticing them before raising her chin in a nod indicating them to look behind.

There was a brief flare of red and a flicker of pale light before Wang Canghai felt a force of what felt like a five ton truck crash into his face, the epicenter being his nose. He felt the painful pricks of the bush's branches scratching him as he fell through, landing on the concrete pavement as his forearm scraped against its smoothed surface.

He grasped his nose in pain, feeling a familiar wetness trickle from between his tanned fingers. But although his face and body throbbed in the same tandem as always, he scrambled up quickly—after all, it hadn't bothered him as much as others even back in Xinan. He always had an unusually high pain tolerance.

Yin Aiguo fell onto the ground near him, crying out in pain when a crack filled the air. Wang Canghai couldn't help but wince, inching in front of him defensively as Liang Shen smiled widely and rubbed his knuckles. Across the pathway, Chen Zhu called out to Yin Aiguo, although Zhou Rong, now letting him go, said something unintelligible to him that caused him to go silent.

"Sorry about that, it was self defense," Liang Shen commented almost casually.

Wang Canghai narrowed his eyes at the words, and distantly, he could hear Yin Aiguo's swears under his breath and his low groans. "You attacked us first."

"Only you," Liang Shen clarified. "Monkey face here attacked me first. I didn't think he'd break something, but my bad." There it was, his flippant attitude. He'd acted the same way, uncaring and assertive, even in the dim halls that would constitute the majority of Xinan junior secondary school. Frankly, he'd long gotten tired of it.

"If a different person defends the victim, it may still apply as self-defense," Wang Canghai replied, watching Liang Shen's eyes narrow just the slightest bit. "So technically, you still count as the aggressor."

"That depends on interpretation and evidence," Liang Shen countered, eyes following the blood trailing from between Wang Canghai's hand as it dripped onto the floor. There was a hint of disgust present in his smirk. "China's laws on self-defense are too vague, after all."

Wang Canghai shrugged, staring straight into Liang Shen's eyes, attempting to look far more confident than he felt. This time, it seemed to work, as Liang Shen's fingers twitched at his sides in what was one of his quirks he'd done before he prepared to strike. Wang Canghai would know.

"You've really changed, Garbage Patch," Liang Shen said.

`"Leave me alone," Wang Canghai replied, shoving his face further into his arms. "I'll stay out of your way, just stay out of mine."

"...You've changed."`

It was the same thing Zhou Rong had said to him. To those words, the sides of Wang Canghai's lips lifted up in derision with a tinge of triumph.

"And you haven't."

Except for his appearance, of course. Although Wang Canghai would prefer not to dwell on Liang Shen's new haircut.

Liang Shen smirked at that, unbeknownst of Wang Canghai's thoughts, opening his mouth—though he was interrupted by a loud shout.

"GET AWAY!"

Wang Canghai widened his eyes, watching in surprisingly startling clarity as a familiar pink blur slammed into Liang Shen's side, Liu Fengmian's back foot extended and his lead foot folded in closer to his thighs, and body twisted to the side.

Less surprisingly, however, was the fact that Liang Shen had already folded his elbow down to cover his side before stumbling backward into a tree, back hitting the wooden trunk with a loud thud. Liu Fengmian dropped down on both feet squarely, knees bent slightly. Upon closer inspection, Wang Canghai realized they were shaking—but only just the slightest—though he was still impressed.

"You're late," Wang Canghai said, his lips lifting higher.

Liu Fengmian kept his eyes on Liang Shen, although he nodded. "Sorry, something came up! Anyway, keep away from Wang Canghai you gelled-hair freakshow, class one ling xiu or not!"

Liang Shen didn't respond—choosing instead to use physical retribution rather than a verbal one. One second, Liu Fengmian was standing, and the next, he was one the ground.

`Great, that didn't last,` Wang Canghai grumbled in his mind. `I guess I was right about the unreliable aspect.`

Even Liang Shen stared at Liu Fengmian's body in confusion, who was unconscious. Then, he glanced back at Wang Canghai, scratching his hair. "He knows taekwondo. I'd assume he'd be able to take harder hits than that."

Wang Canghai took his hand off his nose, choosing instead to let the slowing blood drip in droplets onto his uniform instead, and shrugged again. Liang Shen gave him a disgusted look again, though he chuckled as his eyes flickered over to the path to see a figure contrasted against the afternoon rays.

Song Wenbin ran into the center of the tree enclosure, turning to the right—where Chen Zhu and Zhou Rong was—and then to the left, where Wang Canghai, Liang Shen, and the two figures of Yin Aiguo and Liu Fengmian laid. He visibly looked as if he was taking in a wave of information at once, in all likeness of a thin waterfall pouring into a full bucket.

"What did I tell you not to do?!" Chen Zhu suddenly yelled, breaking the silence that seemed to have held its breath at Song Wenbin's appearance. There was a flash of confusion in Zhou Rong's eyes, and she slammed Chen Zhu against the tree, a deft hand placed harshly against his throat. Though she was much more petite in contrast to him, there was a hidden strength that Wang Canghai had long known about—though he hadn't experienced it as often as Liang Shen's back in Xinan.

"Let go of him!" Song Wenbin yelled, taking a threatening step forward as he raised a fist.

Zhou Rong gave him a dismissive glance, tightening her hand.

"Here's what will happen," Liang Shen interrupted, clapping his hands once and spreading them in an arc. "Song Wenbin, class five's ling xiu. If you team up with me and take care of Wang Canghai today, right now, then I will let go of both your friends. And as a bonus, you will also get an opportunity to fight back at the one who set up a fake confession for your friend Yin Aiguo."

`No way he agrees to this,` Wang Canghai thought, incredulous. Although since it's Song Wenbin....and from his reckless behavior seen on the first day...

He hoped he was just underestimating Song Wenbin.

"And why should I? You're just threatening my friends and I," Song Wenbin replied, clenching his fists. "What's stopping you from doing this again to them?" To Wang Canghai, however, he flashed a harsh glare, making it frank that he was not on his side.

"I'm really only doing this to become the school's top ling xiu," Liang Shen replied. "As long as you pass the title of class five ling xiu over to Zhou Rong, I will not lay another finger on both your friends."

Wang Canghai flicked his hand towards the ground, splattering a few droplets of blood onto its gray surface. "Song Wenbin, you can't trust him to keep his word. Haven't you heard of his ruthlessness? He's done this once, he'll do it again if he knows he can't get away with consequences."

Song Wenbin suddenly shouted in frustration, ruffling his hair, before pointing at Wang Canghai. "I'm going to fight you. I've wanted to fight you since day one, you prick!" Then, he turned to Liang Shen, glaring just as hard.

"I'm not doing this for you either, nor will I pass the title onto Zhou Rong. In fact, I'll fight you after!"

"Are you crazy?!" Chen Zhu shouted as he rubbed his sore throat where faint red handprints could be seen. Zhou Rong stood next to his hunched figure, imposing and silent.

Yin Aiguo scrambled up, cursing under his breath when he'd accidentally touched the injured finger. Wang Canghai hadn't noticed Liang Shen coming behind him, his breath hitching in surprise when Liang Shen pushed him towards the center of the tree enclosure rather than the midline path.

Then he laughed, a ringing, mirthless laugh, and adjusted the glasses atop his nose. "I'll take you up on your offer! To make it more fair, I'll allow you to propose we fight tomorrow, afterschool, instead. If not, well, it doesn't matter to me either way since you'll lose."

"I won't take you up on that," Song Wenbin replied. "I'm confident I can beat Wang Canghai, and you."

`Perhaps,` Wang Canghai thought, though he felt a lot less apprehensive in front of Song Wenbin rather than Liang Shen. `But I've been working on myself. Let's see if it's paid off.` To Song Wenbin's words though, Liang Shen gave a mysterious smile and just tilted his head in acknowledgement.

Song Wenbin took a step forward.

"Stop it Wenbin!" Yin Aiguo yelled from behind Liang Shen. "Actually think for once!"

Wang Canghai glared, but not at Song Wenbin. Crimson iris met ringed, and there was an unspoken lightning tension that flashed between them that'd been there ever since they met that first, fateful day.

"I'm not fighting him," Wang Canghai declared, holding his ground as Song Wenbin came forward. He clenched his fists tightly, knuckles white from his grip. "I don't want to fight him based on your terms, Liang Shen. If I do, it'll be on mine."

"Oh?" Liang Shen replied, glancing down. Then, he lifted his foot and stomped on Liu Fengmian's arm, who let out a pained shout. "Who gave you a choice?"

Wang Canghai found himself actually shaking from fury, a bloodlust ballooning inside his chest and spreading to his hands and legs in a way that almost compelled him to action—if it weren't for the fact that Liu Fengmian was in danger.

"Do you think this is fun?! Hurting classmates, threatening them, endangering them—are you just a fucking animal?!"

"Of course it's fun, why would I do it otherwise!" Liang Shen yelled with a smile, spreading his arms out. "I feel powerful, I feel great! And if trampling on others is what I need to get to the top, then I'll do it a thousand times over!"

"So there's nothing I can do to convince you otherwise," Wang Canghai spat, eyes darkening with a face that spelled absolute vengeance. "Fine! Have it your way! If your goal is to become the school's top ling xiu, then I will do it first. And a thousand times over, I will trample you to get my way!"

Liang Shen laughed an awful, fake laugh that filled the area as the wind wildly tousled the trees and its leaves around. "Now this is a side of you I've never seen before! Let's just hope it lasts, unlike what happened before in Xinan."

"The only thing you'll hope for is my forgiveness," Wang Canghai replied with a tone of finality, before Song Wenbin's first strike came at him—to which he slipped to the side, pupils moving quickly back and forth in analysis of Song Wenbin's movements. Beneath all the rage and the anger and feelings of injustice, Wang Canghai couldn't believe two things: one, that for the first time, he'd taken action and said those words against Liang Shen, even in the heat of the moment. And two, that he'd managed to dodge Song Wenbin's strike, another first in his book.

And though his arms and his knees shook, and there was a blood red that seemed to stain his vision, there was a sort of thundering sensation in his heart that left it pumping in an adrenalized fashion and energized the rush in his body. And he could remember every afternoon he'd spent conditioning his frail body nearly to an athletic shape, and the nights he'd spent alone with only the white of his phone and the internet as company against the creeping thoughts in his mind, and every blood, sweat, and tear he'd poured into improving himself in his training day by day, night by night.

And although Song Wenbin was confident, he wasn't good, that Wang Canghai could tell. His punches were sloppy, and his aim was nonexistent—even with minimal training, Wang Canghai could easily slip them.

`So where did that confidence come from?` Wang Canghai thought, brows furrowing thoughtfully. `Was it all unfounded? Or did he simply rely only on Yin Aiguo and Chen Zhu?`

Opening after opening came and went, in a series of missed opportunities, and Wang Canghai attempted to wrack his head for any indication of a plan. He couldn't act upon those openings, as much as he wanted to, and continued dancing lightly around Song Wenbin's throws.

"What the hell?!" Song Wenbin yelled in frustration, settling back in a brief respite. "I heard you set up only Yin Aiguo, right? Well, I was the brains behind the operation, and I was the one that told the both of them—Chen Zhu, and Yin Aiguo—everything they had to do!"

Wang Canghai brushed off a crinkled leaf off his shoulder, listening intently.

"This is a chance for you to fight back—for you to take revenge! So go on, fight back!"

`I already knew that, though.`

"Just because you say tha', doesn't mean I'll do it," Wang Canghai replied and stepped forward, causing Song Wenbin to twitch in anticipation. There was a loud cracking sound suddenly, and a thick tree branch covered in a few lingering leaves crashed onto the ground, splitting the line between Wang Canghai and Song Wenbin.

Wang Canghai blinked slowly, and in his peripherals, he could see Chen Zhu gaping in the background and Zhou Rong frowning. He didn't turn around to look at Liang Shen, but he could imagine he was attempting to analyze the phenomenon with his beady eyes.

Song Wenbin laughed suddenly, causing Wang Canghai to pull his eyes from the splinters and dust whirling about on the ground. "I dare you to hit me. Come on! You could not hit me even if I stayed completely still."

"There's something strange about you," Wang Canghai murmured, furrowing his brows. "Yang Guang often complained about encounters with teachers when he'd attempted to meet up with you. Far too often, and at the right time, to be coincidental. Somehow, just above the both of us—out of all the branches to fall, tha' one did. And right in front of you, too, just as I took a foot forward."

"You talked to Yang Guang?" Song Wenbin asked.

"Not really, but Yang Guang is a loudmouth, and you could say I'm a good listener."

Song Wenbin stepped around the tree branch, lifting up the sleeves of his lightly-dusted jacket and nodded at Wang Canghai, nose up in the air. "Stop talking, come at me, and you'll find out what's 'strange' about me."

Wang Canghai shook his head. "I'm staying put."

Song Wenbin snarled and rushed forwards, raising his fist and throwing it in his direction. To that, Wang Canghai ducked to the side, the cold winter wind stinging his eyes slightly—then, there was a flicker of navy blue and he felt a flashing pain in his right leg, knees buckling from the pressure.

Wang Canghai persisted, though, and to his surprise, Song Wenbin was also on the ground. The other quickly stood up again, brushing himself off.

`Did he trip?` Wang Canghai thought, a sense of incredulousness filling his chest, although he had an inkling of what Song Wenbin machinations could be. `And somehow, he managed to kick me as he went down.`

"Song Wenbin is unnaturally lucky!" A sole voice shouted, the owner of which stood behind Zhou Rong. She glanced behind herself, although made no move to stop him. "There's nothing you can do to cause harm to him—everything bends to his will!"

"Chen Zhu?!" Song Wenbin shouted, looking betrayed. "What the hell?!"

Wang Canghai nodded, thinking as he watched the pebbles near Song Wenbin's feet quiver and roll out of the way with the wind.

`So now what can I do? We're at a stalemate—with odds leaning heavily towards Song Wenbin. I can pretend to lose and stay on the ground until Song Wenbin and Liang Shen finish with their fight afterwards, then either run or clean it up. But Liang Shen...he's a problem. He's too perceptive, and I'm not exactly the best actor—he'll see through it instantly.`

He made eye contact with Liang Shen, who kept it up for a second before going back to reading his thickly padded epidemiology book. The vivid green of the cover hurt his eyes, and he pulled away to see the situation on the other side.

"Why did you help him?!" Song Wenbin yelled at Chen Zhu, keeping his eyes trained on Wang Canghai, although he looked back and forth between the two.

There was a guilty expression on Chen Zhu's face, but he didn't answer.

`Another option is...` Wang Canghai continued in his thoughts, peeking at the massive tree proudly curling its empty branches towards the sky in the center, a short concrete wall surrounding it.

`[Xiao Baitu:] One basic rule in fighting is: take advantage of your surroundings. Grab a chair, throw some sand, hurl a brick. Whatever it takes to win, do it. Don't be soft on your enemy—`

`—Because they won't treat you the same,` Wang Canghai recalled as he sprinted towards the tree, or more specifically, towards the wooden bench near the front of the wall. Behind him, he could hear the loud stomps of Song Wenbin's feet, and his yell as he followed.

`But this time, I'm not going on the offensive,` he thought as he grasped the thick strap of a bulging bag, weighing heavily in his hands. He made a quick apology to Yin Aiguo. `They say the best defense is a good offense. Let's just hope the reverse also applies.`

Song Wenbin's fist fell flush against the side of the bag as Wang Canghai blocked the blow that would've struck his face, and his arms shook from the pressure. In the distance, he could hear Yin Aiguo yell out "my homework" in despair.

`Sorry,` Wang Canghai apologized in his mind again. `But there's two advantages in using this bag. One, is that I now have a shield, and two—`

Song Wenbin instantly recoiled back as if he'd laid a hand on an open flame, teeth gritted in frustration.

`—is that this belongs to Yin Aiguo, and Song Wenbin would not willingly hurt his friends, or even their belongings if it hurt them in turn, even if he doesn't seem the type.`

Wang Canghai knew this from watching his interactions with Yin Aiguo and Chen Zhu, and from the few times he'd interacted with them. And although he wasn't the socializing type, he was definitely a great listener.

Song Wenbin came back at him with a ferocity matching that of a caged animal, his flurrying limbs wild and untrained—the same as the boys from the alleyway with the hanging red lanterns. He was untrained, unused to actual battle and fighting, and that was how Wang Canghai managed to block his fists each time with the bag, forcing him back defensively in order to look for any exploits. Although Song Wenbin had attempted to get around his makeshift shield, Wang Canghai was not about to let him.

"Some luck would really help right about now," Song Wenbin called up at the sky, not unlike that of a priest praying for divine intervention. Predictably, but also unpredictably at the same time, a heavy gust of wind picked up through the path, spiraling up and down and flinging both piercing gale and pale flecks of dust and brittle leaves into Wang Canghai's path.

He coughed, pulling up the bag to protect his face and glanced down just in time to see a pale blur fly towards his midsection. He had a second for the mounting apprehension to spike up before it hit, pushing him onto the ground as the last dredges of wind howled in his ear.

"Even if I can't count on my friends, at least I can count on my luck," Song Wenbin said, attempting to kick at Wang Canghai, who rolled to the side in response and pulled himself to a crouch.

Wang Canghai pulled the bag over his shoulder, watching the other warily. "No—it's your friends tha' can't count on you."

Song Wenbin flinched as if struck with lightning, just barely so, and for a second Wang Canghai could see a flicker of an inexplicable emotion pass through his eyes before it pulled up a wave of fury. "You have no idea what you're talking about. You don't even talk to either Chen Zhu or Yin Aiguo, and even so, what makes you think you have any idea of our relationship besides your superficial judgement?"

Wang Canghai got up, slowly, cautiously. "I don't know everything, and I wouldn't understand even if I did, unless I lived out your life myself. But you'd have to be incredibly dense to not see their reluctance for your orders."

It was hauntingly silent now, as if the gale had scooped up the wisps of wind that'd crossed the enclosure from time to time and poured its energy in one last ditch effort for Song Wenbin. He could feel the prickles of Chen Zhu's and Yin Aiguo's and Zhou Rong's stares, the worst of which came from an unnaturally colored red, like devil's eyes. He couldn't feel the familiar weight of Liu Fengmian's gaze, and somewhere inside he lamented the other's dumbassness.

"Think of it this way. I'm a third party—I don't have as strong of a bias compared to you about this particular topic, and I can bring in a fresh, new perspective on anything," Wang Canghai continued, words flowing out surprisingly easily. By now, he'd probably spoken more words in that day than his entire career with Liang Shen. "And all I'm asking you to do is to listen to your confidants—your friends. They have opinions and thoughts tha' are worth listening to. It's never worth it to act like yours is the only logical thought tha' makes sense, blocking out others like buzzing flies, and steeping in an unreliable confidence."

`Like I did` were the unsaid words.

"Shut up and fight!" Song Wenbin roared, a whipping gust of wind fanning out from behind him and into Wang Canghai's direction, crowds of dust and bits of sticks flying out at rapid speeds. He pulled up the previously black, now dusted dark-grey bag over his face, making sure his eyes were peeled open through the stinging remnant that came behind his shield, and he looked down to get an idea of where his position was—and where Song Wenbin's position was.

Wang Canghai shouted over the wind as loud as he could when he realized it wasn't going to stop anytime soon. "You're proving my point! You can't listen to anyone else, it's all about you! You don't want to admit anything awful about yourself because it'll break the illusion of your fabricated life, tha' you've always been right and tha' you were destined to be right, tha' nobody else had the capacity for your kind of thought but yourself!"

He couldn't see Song Wenbin's feet, so he tilted the bag a slight degree to get a better view of the area, and he blinked rapidly to wet his drying eyes. The other was still in the same position, not moving, yet an undeniable tension shifted beneath his skin.

"You're wrong—you're making baseless assumptions. Shut up already!" Song Wenbin yelled back, voice strained.

"Am I really?" Wang Canghai said, his voice like a whisper in the ceaseless wind. He couldn't see the expressions of the others, but he could imagine they were listening intently—even Liang Shen. Especially him.

"You..." Was the ensuing growl back. "I—I'm not like that. I do listen to my friends, right, Yin Aiguo? Chen Zhu?"

Wang Canghai felt the fierce winds die down to a lowly breeze, enough for him to peek to the side of the makeshift shield. Chen Zhu and Yin Aiguo were in the same positions as before—behind Zhou Rong and Liang Shen respectively—their uniforms ruffled by the wind and strands of hair flung messily about.

Yin Aiguo made eye contact with Chen Zhu for a split second, nervously, and looked back at Song Wenbin.

"...I'm sorry," he finally said, fingers shaking. Whether it was the result of the pain from the broken one, or the situation at hand, Wang Canghai didn't know. Perhaps both. "I think it's time to stop."

Song Wenbin clenched his fists, turning his head to look at Chen Zhu.

"Song Wenbin," Chen Zhu started, swallowing anxiously and fiddling with his hands. "I'd like to back out of this now. I'm also done."

Zhou Rong was stone-faced, almost bored in a way. Liang Shen, on the other hand, seemed ready for action as always, pencil flipping up and down in a tireless need for movement, although he too, seemed to share some of Zhou Rong's sentiment.

Song Wenbin seemed as if he was standing on the last leg of a chair that hadn't fallen just yet, the inevitability of a break stamped into the edges of the supporting leg. A sturdy one that'd kept him going and going, like the luck that'd propelled him forwards into relevancy, but nevertheless would be whittled down by one smash of a hammer.

This was the time to grasp it.

Wang Canghai walked up to Song Wenbin, feeling the other's eyes follow his movements as his body stayed still, and crowding into his space before causing the other to back up, trip, and finally, fall down for the first time. A heavy thump accompanied it, though no tree branches fell, no wind gushed out of nowhere, no pebbles mysteriously moved.

He seemed almost normal, on the ground like so, without the high tilt of his head and his tall frame eating up the presence in the rooms he'd join.

"It's not too late," Wang Canghai said, crouching down and meeting his eyes. "To change."

Song Wenbin's eyes widened.

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`Under ordinary circumstances, Song Wenbin wasn't supposed to meet Chen Zhu.

The weather the day their fates intertwined was one like any other in Jin Shan's late spring season—hot, arid, and scathingly sunny. Song Wenbin wiped his sweaty palms against his uniform pants, breathing deeply as he fanned himself with the front of his collar, and the classroom itself felt stifling, almost suffocatingly so.

And of course, Song Wenbin's lucky break came in the form of a sudden task—the teacher had unluckily forgotten to hand up the attendance record for the day, and needed a student to take it up to the faculty room. He'd happened to call on Song Wenbin, who'd been seated near the back as a troubled student.

He never did find out why the teacher had called on him that day. He wasn't the most trustworthy, with his rambunctious, dramatic nature, but he wasn't about to question it either way.

After he'd completed his task, he'd picked up on the nearby sounds of a muted scuffle from nearby the bathroom door. Inside, were the shadowed figures of three boys circling in a larger boy, kicking at him and pointing fingers obnoxiously in his face. Song Wenbin's eyes slowly adjusted to the dimmed lighting, seeing the fat kid's face fall into view—chubby cheeks, an awful bowlcut, and wide eyes.

Then, he'd stepped into the bathroom loudly, stomping his foot with an echo and the bluster of a boy who knew he was favored by the universe. "Hey, get back to class, losers!" And for good measure, he'd also stuck out his tongue, pulling his lips up and the skin under his eyes down with his fingers in an ugly expression.

"Are you making fun of us?!" One of the boys shouting, advancing forward towards Song Wenbin, who only grinned as a stall toilet on the right suddenly broke, a jet stream of water spraying wildly, and all three of them slipped on the same puddle that'd quickly formed in front of them. Their bodies hit the ground with a thick thud, before they'd scrambled back up quickly and ran away, eyes looking back at Song Wenbin with a confused apprehension.

Distantly, he could hear them shout, "what the hell was that?" and "that was weird!"

"Heya fatty!" Song Wenbin called out, squatting near the tearful boy. The other stared at him for a quick second, before bursting further into tears.

"That's what they called me too!" He cried out, looking more frustrated than depressed now. "I thought you were going to be different from them!"

"Oops, my bad!" Song Wenbin quickly backpedaled. "Uh...so what's your name then?"

"Chen Zhu! But the 'zhu' isn't the pig character, it's bamboo's 'zhu'."*

"That's a nice name, big guy."

"You're doing this on purpose!"

Chen Zhu's wails had long died down to a slight hiccup, but there must've been something he'd seen on Song Wenbin's face that conveyed a cordialness he'd never experienced before, because he'd quickly accepted the other's company.

Song Wenbin could tell Chen Zhu was a quiet, shy kid who'd had the misfortune of being a bully's target, simply for being of a larger size than average. While Song Wenbin himself was a boundary-pusher, a loud, obnoxious personality that shone like a harsh sun, Chen Zhu seemed to curl in on himself like the sleepy plant when poked at.

He wore scuffed shoes and stitched uniforms, and always had a stain or two on his face or clothing. He was poor, but Song Wenbin couldn't understand why he was fat.

"Why are you fat, if you're poor? Doesn't that just mean you can't afford as much food?"

Chen Zhu glared back at him with a slight ruefulness, before huffing.

"Sometimes you're annoyingly pushy, you know?" He pointed out. "That's not something you pry into that suddenly."

"I'm just wondering," Song Wenbin replied, shrugging as he tilted his head in confusion. He was just asking a question, why was Chen Zhu so antsy about that? He surely needed to lighten up.

"It's true that I'm fat, and that I'm poor," Chen Zhu murmured, placing his head in between his knees and wrapping his arms around. "But I'm trying to lose weight and study more, so I can get into a prestigious highschool and then university, ok? Here's the answer to your question: it's because it's cheaper to buy junk food than healthy ones. Like instant ramen as opposed to vegetables. When you eat a lot of unhealthy meals, you tend to gain weight."

"Ah, I don't think I've ever gone through that. I don't see why it's worth bullying over."

"And you should be glad you haven't," Chen Zhu replied, breaking off tiny pieces of vivid grass with gentle fingers. "You're quite lucky, you know."

Song Wenbin was indeed lucky he'd been born in a middle-class family, with enough to get by comfortably and then some, and a healthy relationship with his parents. He wasn't poor, he'd never been bullied, and he knew his parents, and even life itself, spoiled him endlessly.

And he was fine with it. He'd continue being himself, and he'd be the hero of the day, and he'd live out life the way it was supposed to be lived—to the fullest. Damn the consequences; it was best to keep in the moment.`

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`"Want to see a new trick I learned?" A boy with a monkey face said, standing atop a desk. Much of the class looked on over, and he'd taken out a deck of cards, fanning it out and in again and making kings appear from thin air. A couple of the classmates oohed and aahed at the sight, egging him on for more.

He'd flicked a few cards out from thin air once more, before his foot caught on the edge of the desk and he'd fallen, shouting in surprise as the cards fluttered all over the classroom floor after his body hit cold vinyl.

His classmates laughed as he went down, amused with the turn of events. Yin Aiguo himself quickly pushed himself up, his right hand sheepishly rubbing his neck as he laughed with them. Song Wenbin walked up to the other, tapping him on the shoulder and pointing a thumb at the door to indicate his desire to go outside.

"What are you doing?" Yin Aiguo asked him, sliding a card between his fingers in a nervous habit as Song Wenbin took him into the hallway. "I'm completely fine, if that's what you're wondering. Everyone was laughing."

"They're always laughing at you, never with you," Song Wenbin commented. "Why do you still entertain them?"

The other seemed almost offended by the question. "Why? Because it's fun, I like it, and everyone else likes it. Why are you butting in, anyway? Everything was perfectly fine, you're just being bothersome."

"Look, I don't care if you want to keep this up, it's not like I'm going to stop you," Song Wenbin continued, sighing. "It's just pathetic to see you intentionally harming yourself to make others laugh."

"Pathetic? I'm making people laugh! You, on the other hand, only seem to annoy others!"

"I know I'm a bit dumb, but not dumb enough to fall off a table for others' amusement!" Song Wenbin strongly retorted, jabbing a finger at Yin Aiguo's chest. "I don't see the appeal in making people who aren't even friends laugh at the expense of yourself. And you know what they say about you, Yin Aiguo?"

There was a twitch in Yin Aiguo's fingers, and he looked down at the card in his hand.

"What is it?"

"That it's weird when the only two expressions you ever show is happiness and laughter. That they've never seen you sad, or angry, or irritated, and it's close to unnatural the way you never seem to show that you feel anything else."

Yin Aiguo was silent for a moment, hands fiddling with the card in his hand. From the doorway, Song Wenbin could see the others joking around on their seats as the cards remained on the floor, not a single classmate going to pick it up.

"That's who I am."

Song Wenbin jolted when he realized Yin Aiguo's eyes were wet, hands coming up to wipe at his eyes as the tears bubbled up but never fell.

"That's who I am! The class clown, the one who makes everybody laugh. That's what everyone knows me as, and it's what I'm happy being!"

Yin Aiguo tapped his chest with a closed fist, gritting his teeth.

"And they're wrong—of course I feel sad, sometimes. There's days where I'd rather curl up in my bed than come to school, there are days where I feel like biting at anyone who even talks to me, but I just put it to the side, like a lot of other students do too. It's something everyone does! I'm not always that happy person, but jokes are the one thing I can rely on every time to give me a boost in confidence, because if you've been paying attention, there's nothing else going for me!"

Song Wenbin was taken back by his sudden outburst, though he understood what the other meant. In fact, it was common for people to keep up a facade during harsh days, in order to bury their awful emotions. He'd done the same, although not to the extent Yin Aiguo did. Seriously, it was a bit weird that he'd never seen the guy not smiling, but—

" —Being a good person. That's good enough," he slowly started, watching the overcast sky roil slowly above, before shifting his eyes to the other. He tapped his chin with one finger. "I don't think you need to have a thousand things going for you to be proud of yourself. Just one is good enough for me!"

Song Wenbin grinned.

For some reason, it only served to make the tears fall faster, to Song Wenbin's despair. But when the morning school bell rang and the students hurriedly sat down, Yin Aiguo laughed as boisterously as always, smile wide as he placed the final card back into his bag.`

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`And it was Chen Zhu, Yin Aiguo, and Song Wenbin, the trio. Always together, always up to mischief, and tolerable at best, annoying at worst. They'd stuck together like melded steel, and despite all that Chen Zhu and Yin Aiguo complained about Song Wenbin, they were inseparable.`

But this was the first time Song Wenbin had any doubts about the authenticity of their relationship—if they truly felt a friendly loyalty to him, or whether they only felt obligated to stick by his side, when they had no one else to turn to. If, on the inside, they'd resented him for everything he made them do for his selfish gains, and even unconfirmed, Song Wenbin's doubts felt like a string-wrapped piece of lead hung straight from his heart.

There was a ripple in his seemingly normal view of life, like a rose gold glass had shattered in front of his eyes. Everytime they'd complained, he'd brushed them off to the point where they would do it in front of his face, and he'd still laugh it off everytime. He took a crown never meant to be his and placed himself on a pedestal, and strung the two along as his guards meant to fulfill the dirty work, and still blamed them when it was his plan that failed.

No, he'd failed.

"I..." Song Wenbin gasped out, scooting one step back slowly. There was a ballooning pressure in his head that seemed to drown out all other noise, loud as a crashing wave.

—

`"You won't even face me yourself?" Yang Guang sneered, cracking his knuckles. "You coward."

"I never said it was going to be fair!" A warped figure replied cheerfully. "But enough talking, let's get on with it, Chen Zhu, Aiguo!"

"Hey, what are you kids doing?!" A teacher's voice rang, disrupting the tension—yet again. Chen Zhu and Yin Aiguo looked relieved.`

—

`"Why..."

Veins popped over Chen Zhu's forehead as he pointed at a warped figure near the back. "...The hell aren't you lifting a single finger!"

"Yeah, why do we always have to do the grunt work?" Yin Aiguo complained, screwing open the cap on a glue bottle. "This is unfair."

The warped figure, an ugly one, leaned back against his chair, balancing a pencil just above his lips. "Because I'm the brains of this operation, obviously. Come on, who else is going to tell you two what to do?"`

—

`"What happened?" A distorted finger pointed at the white bandage covering to the right of Yin Aiguo's chin.

Yin Aiguo sighed. "You heard about class four's transfer right?"

"Of course. So you lost the fight?"

"Yeah, I did. It was Yang Guang," Yin Aiguo said, turning away to face the bike rack. "He cut me with a knife. It'll scar."

An arm filled with whirling colors, a chaotic tussling of shapes and curves, wrapped around Yin Aiguo's shoulders. "Well, at least you only got a small scar from that! Now you and Chen Zhu can help me out more with my class!"`

—

`I told Yin Aiguo and Chen Zhu to at least put a little bit of thought into this!` The amorphous figure despaired in his mind, slamming his head repeatedly against the table. A few students near him looked at him with an alarmed concern. `I can't believe none of them even phased him!`

—

Flickering from a first person to third person perspective struck a chord in him, a humming that strung like an offkey symphony in his mind. He was watching himself as a bystander, as if a ghost, and a feeling of despair emptied his heart.

Did he really act like that?

"Why do you want to fight?" Wang Canghai asked, piercing through the white noise. He was standing again, looking around the area.

"What?" Was all Song Wenbin could mutter in response.

"I said, why do you fight?" The other repeated, indicating at the familiar bystanders with a wave of his hand. "What's your purpose? I want to know—I want to know why you were interested in me, the first day, and why you chose to fight me instead of taking up in arms against Liang Shen, even if he was threatening our friends."

Song Wenbin sighed, grasping the hand Wang Canghai held out and lifting himself up.

"You ask a lot of questions," he replied, ruffling his hair. He hid his shaky hands behind light locks, and was glad he could latch onto something else for now. "But I'll answer them. Wang Canghai, you have a way of pulling people in and forcing them to confront themselves, you know that? There's something about you that makes people want to know you, whether good or bad, or just to get a reaction, or just to figure you out."

He refused to look at Yin Aiguo and Chen Zhu, instead forcing himself to peer into the horizon beyond Wang Canghai's head, the glowing clouds moving fast in tandem with the humid wind.

"My first impression of you was that you must be a terrible person," Song Wenbin continued. "I disliked you from the get-go. It was probably the way you talked or the way you acted, like you cared about nothing, no one, and I think I was grated by that. I was used to compliance, and all the benefits that came with it. Because of that, I hated the fact that you interacted with He Hualing—she's my childhood friend. Always thought she had too much kindness for her own good, and that inevitably, she would hang out with the wrong crowd."

Wang Canghai opened his mouth, perhaps to disagree with a specific statement, though the other cut him off.

"So I wanted to fight you, purely based on those assumptions and the picture of you that I created in my mind. I'm a hypocrite for trying to tell you off about yours, when I'd been doing so this entire time. You're not uncaring, obnoxious, abrasive. Toxic. Caustic. That's what I am—so I've come to the conclusion that this—this would suit you a lot more than I."

Song Wenbin motioned for Wang Canghai to place out his palm, and a heavy golden weight dropped into his hands. Wang Canghai looked confused, eyes roving over the delicate curls and meticulous handicraft, a bold five emblazoned in the center of the badge.

"Take care of class five." Song Wenbin grinned, patting him on the shoulder. "I'm done."

A hard streak of red flew in like a flashfire, both Wang Canghai's and Song Wenbin's forms slamming harshly against the ground, saliva flying out of the latter's mouth as he gasped in surprise. Liang Shen stood just in front of Wang Canghai—whose fingers clenched so tightly around the badge that his knuckles were white—fist cocked and teeth bared in a smirk that sent chills down Song Wenbin's spine.

`How did he hit me?`

"I've figured you out," Liang Shen laughed, pointing the pencil in his other hand towards Song Wenbin. "Your luck isn't so omnipotent, after all."

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