No. 85 Carrying Laughter or Silence
“Yi Yao, have you noticed that we get a lot more stares when we walk together?”
“That’s your imagination…”
“You’d make a great loli character. Maybe you should embrace that personality too?”
“I told you, it’s your imagination…”
…
The bus to Lion Mountain Park had been rerouted due to the college entrance exams, and a taxi was too expensive. The park’s bicycle parking wasn’t very secure, so Xiaodie and I decided to walk.
The result was a constant barrage of stares and whispers as we made our way through the city, Xiaodie clinging to me with an almost possessive affection, as if seeing me for the first time.
Role-playing was a skill we all learned as we navigated the complexities of life.
Few of us remained true to our childhood selves.
We had once vowed to be authentic, to never compromise our values, only to become the very people we had once despised.
As children, we believed adults were liars, hypocrites, and manipulators. But as we grew older, we realized that those were the survival skills required to navigate a world that rarely rewarded honesty and integrity.
I remembered my younger self, crippled by social anxiety, believing that good grades and a prestigious university would guarantee a peaceful, solitary existence. A job assigned by the school, a predictable routine, a small world filled with anime and video games—a life free from social obligations and the complexities of human interaction.
But reality was rarely that simple.
Jobs required interacting with countless people, performing tasks I had never imagined, promoting products I knew were inferior, offering exceptional customer service to entitled individuals, praising products I had never used, all with a smile plastered on my face.
So Xiaodie’s insistence on role-playing, on transforming my personality, didn’t bother me as much as it should have.
What concerned me was her reaction to this new me.
“Xiaodie…”
I stopped walking, my voice soft, my expression a perfect imitation of a clueless little sister.
“Huh?”
“You wouldn’t happen to be a lolicon, would you?”
She froze, her face flushing crimson.
Busted.
“I knew it! Why else would you be so invested in my stepbrother’s well-being? This doesn’t fit your usual ‘allergic to strangers’ persona.”
I sighed, massaging my temples.
Xiaodie cared deeply for her friends, but she was utterly indifferent to strangers.
“Ahahaha… well, Yi Yao, I just… I like cute things… you know, adorable little things. That’s all. All girls like cute things…”
A bead of sweat trickled down her forehead, despite the gentle June sunshine.
“Is that so?”
I turned away, my back to the sun, my gaze fixed on her.
The bustling street was a kaleidoscope of colors, the air filled with the scent of freshly cut grass and warm asphalt.
“Yi Yao… are you…” She leaned closer, her hands clasped together in a gesture of cuteness. “Are you mad?”
I shook my head. “I’m more surprised that you admitted it.”
“I… it’s not like that. I find your strong personality more attractive… I mean…”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “I know.”
“You do?”
“Yes.”
I pointed towards Lion Mountain Park, its entrance now visible in the distance. “Let’s go. We’re going to be late.”
I understood her little quirks.
I might not have had a girlfriend in my previous life, but that didn’t mean I was clueless about women.
Have fun while you’re young, then settle down with a nice, stable guy—those words held a deeper truth than most people realized.
Young girls were often attracted to rebellious bad boys, charming playboys, men who showered them with sweet words and empty promises. That’s why the “jerks” always seemed to have girlfriends, while the kind, honest, dependable guys remained single.
But after the initial excitement wore off, those relationships often crumbled under the weight of incompatibility and unmet expectations.
Girls might crave excitement and adventure, but when it came to marriage, they preferred stability and security.
That’s what Yi Yao’s memories had taught me.
Xiaodie might be attracted to my strong, independent persona, but if we ever reached that stage, if we truly wanted a future together, she would prefer a cheerful, carefree, and adorable partner.
Her confession, her acceptance of my true self, meant that she saw me as a potential life partner, someone she could trust and rely on.
It made me happy.
Lion Mountain Park was a popular destination, its entrance free, its attractions reasonably priced. It had a designated barbecue area, often crowded with families and friends on weekends and holidays.
My first club activity with the anime club in my previous life had been held here.
“Xiaodie! Over here!”
A girl waved to us from a gazebo near the barbecue area.
“Where’s our base camp?” Xiaodie asked as we approached her.
Zhang Mingyue was a bright, hardworking girl who had consistently ranked among the top students in our class. In my other life, she was the only one from our middle school who had attended the same high school as me.
Her life was one of the few positive examples I remembered.
She had dated a boy in high school, but they had broken up after a short while. Heartbreak, however, had only fueled her determination. She had focused on her studies, graduated from a good university, and moved to another city, where she worked tirelessly, her days filled with long hours and demanding tasks. She even restricted her diet, her Qzone posts a constant stream of complaints about work and food, making me worry about her health.
But after three years of hard work, she had climbed the corporate ladder, secured a stable, fulfilling career, and eventually found a loving husband, started a family, and gave birth to a healthy baby.
At her wedding, she had confessed to me, “I had a crush on you in middle school and high school. But you were always so focused on your studies. I tried to surpass you academically, but the strange thing is, as my grades improved, my feelings for you faded.”
I had never forgotten her.
“It’s up there, number 43,” she said, her gaze falling on me. Her eyes widened, and she covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh my god! Is that Yi Yao?”
“Yes,” I said awkwardly.
“You’re so cute! Come here, little sis, let me hug you!”
She pulled me into a tight embrace, her ample bosom pressing against my face.
Xiaodie coughed pointedly.
“Ahaha, sorry, sorry. I’ve never seen you dressed like this before. I got a little excited.”
She released me, her cheeks flushing. “This was Xiaodie’s idea, wasn’t it?”
Yes, she was the mastermind behind this transformation.
“Isn’t she adorable?”
“She is! She’s so much cuter like this. She’s usually so cold and unapproachable. Xiaodie, you’re a true angel!”
“It’s nothing… Hey, Rabbit, what kind of outfit do you think would suit her hairstyle?”
Zhang Mingyue’s nickname was “Rabbit.” During our first year of middle school, a game called “MapleStory” had been popular, and she had been nicknamed after a rabbit-like monster called “Moon Bunny.”
“Maybe a princess dress? And some cute Mary Janes?”
“Great idea!”
They discussed my wardrobe for a while before remembering the purpose of our meeting.
“We can go shopping for clothes another time. Let’s head up there.”
We followed her up the hill, locating barbecue pit number 43. Several familiar faces from our class were already gathered there.
“Hey, Xiaodie. You made it.”
Tan Lijiang, his skinny frame accentuated by his thick glasses, stared at me for a long moment, his brow furrowed. “Yi Yao?”
“Seriously, you don’t recognize me just because I changed clothes?” I rolled my eyes and sat down, placing my backpack beside me.
“It’s just… you look…” He adjusted his glasses. “You look like a completely different person! Hey, Liang Tong, come over here!”
“What’s up?”
Liang Tong, who had been fanning the charcoal, dropped his makeshift fan and stared at me, his jaw slack. “Yi Yao, you’re tempting fate.”
I raised my fist. “Say another word, and I’ll punch you.”
“I believe you, I believe you! Haha, that’s the Yi Yao I know.”
He chuckled, settling down beside me and offering me a can of cola. “When’s the wedding?”
“Not anytime soon.”
I took the cola, pouring myself a glass. As I raised the glass to my lips, my gaze fell on barbecue pit number 59.
My father was there, chatting animatedly with that woman and her son, who was a few years older than me. Their faces were lit up with smiles, their laughter a jarring contrast to the turmoil within me.
“Yi Yao? What’s wrong?”
Tan Lijiang, sensing my distress, waved his hand in front of my face.
I snapped out of my daze and took a long gulp of cola.
“Nothing.”
Leave a Reply