Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Zhou Qi’s ego had taken a blow, and for several days he kept quiet and left me alone.

At last I was able to study in peace. I desperately hoped he would stay that way.

Unfortunately, his ego bounced back with astonishing speed.

By Friday, he was at it again.

The physics teacher was going over a test at the front of the room. The man was past fifty and squinted as he rattled through the material, merely going through the motions, indifferent to whether we understood.

I was concentrating when someone suddenly hooked a finger under my bra strap.

Snap.

The sound rang out with humiliating clarity through the classroom. The sting of elastic against my skin broke my focus.

For a moment, I froze. Only when I heard Zhou Qi and Chen Zhuo’s snickering did I understand what had happened.

My face went up in flames. Shame and humiliation rose in suffocating waves.

I spun around, furious and mortified. Zhou Qi grinned. “New style today, huh?”

Chen Zhuo waggled his eyebrows and joined in. “Xia Xin! He only does it because he likes you!”

“You two are going to get married someday anyway, so who cares if your future husband touches you? Hahaha!”

Zhou Qi’s ears reddened at his words. The sight only made him more revolting to me.

How could anyone be this vile?

Just as the last thread of my restraint was about to snap, the physics teacher glanced our way from the podium.

He frowned at me. “What are you making a fuss about?”

I opened my mouth, but nameless shame closed around my throat and strangled every word.

What could I say?

Could I tell a male teacher-in front of the whole class-that Zhou Qi had snapped my bra strap?

Low snickers spread around me. They traded knowing looks, the kind that claimed some things could be understood but never said aloud. It was nauseating.

The physics teacher slapped the desk with the test paper. “Quiet! Xia Xin, if you keep this up, all of you can stand outside!”

When he singled me out, I stared at him in disbelief.

Zhou Qi was the one harassing me. Why was I being blamed?

I could not stand one more day in this rotten school.

The first time I cut class, it was a secret, unnoticed rebellion.

I did not even take my schoolbag. I hid around a corner in the hallway and waited.

For all seventeen years of my life, I had been the good girl teachers praised. A teacher’s word was imperial decree; school rules were the law of heaven.

Yet this single act of truancy felt like the most spectacular revolt of my life.

When the moment was right, I climbed the school wall. My heart pounded and my palms sweated.

Looking down at the ground far below, I thought of the hero in *The Shawshank Redemption*, arms spread in the pouring rain as he reclaimed his freedom and salvation.

If I did not escape, the torment would never end.

With nothing left to lose, I jumped.

I hit the ground with a thud. My feet hurt, but not as badly as I had imagined.

Then I ran. The school fell farther and farther behind me.

I sprinted all the way back to the mahjong parlor, breathless. Ignoring the neighbors’ startled looks, I went straight into my tiny bedroom, pulled my phone from beneath the pillow, and dialed with trembling fingers.

It rang more than a dozen times before someone answered.

A familiar voice came through, already suppressing anger. “Hello?”

My throat ached. Before I could even say “Mom,” her sharp, impatient voice cut in.

“Why are you calling me when nothing’s wrong? You woke your brother again! Now I have to get him back to sleep!”

It felt as if a hand had closed around my throat. All my grievances lodged there until I could barely breathe.

Mom, you have not even let me speak. How do you know nothing is wrong?

She did not notice that I was calling during school hours. With a contemptuous edge, she said, “Are you asking for living expenses again? I’m only a few days late. Are you that desperate?”

I knew, instinctively, that even if I told her what was happening at school, she would not want to hear it.

I listened numbly as she vented-about Grandma, about me, about my stepfather, about her in-laws.

Everyone in the world had wronged her. She had neither the power nor the desire to help me.

After the call ended, two hundred yuan appeared in my account.

Mom told me to use it for now and ask again when it ran out.

But I knew she did not want me to ask again. Every word she had spoken was about how much money my little brother needed, how hard it was to depend on her husband for every cent, and how little money she had.

A sensible child did not make life harder for adults.

I curled up on the narrow bed and buried myself under the blanket, wishing I had never been born.

Someone turned the bedroom doorknob several times. Outside, Grandma spoke to one of the neighbors. “Huh? That silly girl came back? School’s not even out yet. What’s she doing home?”

“Damn it, she’s bolted the door tight too!”

Keys jingled outside.

A while later, a rough hand slipped under the blanket and touched my forehead.

Grandma patted me twice through the covers. “You don’t have a fever. What did you come home for?”

I squeezed my eyes shut and pretended to sleep, but the tears dampening their corners betrayed me.

Grandma’s irritated muttering stopped abruptly.

I felt her gaze rest on me for a long time.

In the end, she said nothing. She closed the door and left.