No. 86 A Promise Easily Made, For Whom?
When I left that morning, my father had told me he was “meeting with suppliers to discuss the new store.”
I believed him.
In the previous timeline, my relationship with my father hadn’t been as strained as it was with Xiaodie now. That was why I had endured his silence, his emotional distance, for so long.
“Dad always tried his best, so I have to prove to him, even in heaven, that I can do it too.”
Perhaps because the surgery hadn’t failed in that world, or perhaps because our financial situation had been more stable, my mother’s death hadn’t hit him as hard. After the funeral, he had sent me back to school after a week and resumed his work at the fruit stand. It wasn’t until two months later that he had asked about finding a new wife.
It seemed that even the human heart was susceptible to external influences.
The wealthy had their own worries, and the poor had theirs.
The poor yearned for money, the rich yearned for more.
Those struggling to survive had no time for existential angst.
“Yi Yao, have you thought about which high school you want to attend?”
Tan Lijiang, having successfully started the fire in the barbecue pit, turned to me, seeking conversation.
“It depends on my dad,” I replied honestly.
I wasn’t eager to return to that high school, even if it was the best in the city, even if it guaranteed a place at a top university. I had no desire to relive that hellish experience.
They always said, “Endure these three years of high school, and you’ll be free in university.” But that was a lie.
There was no such thing as freedom.
Elementary school, middle school, high school, university, the real world—it was an endless cycle of expectations and constraints.
I had lost my family, my friends, my youth in that school, reduced to a mindless automaton, existing solely to fulfill their expectations, weaving dreams of escape in the cold comfort of my dormitory bed.
They were right about one thing, though. Students had no rights in that place. Our lives revolved around studying.
We weren’t allowed to bring any personal belongings, not even a bicycle. We had to wake up at 5:30 AM, with only ten minutes for breakfast, followed by thirty minutes of mandatory exercise and then morning reading. No food or drinks were allowed in the classroom, except for water. No non-academic books were allowed in the dormitory… The rules were endless, suffocating. Even now, those memories felt distant and unreal.
Like a fever dream.
I remembered a news report where a journalist had interviewed parents about the school’s strict policies. To my surprise, they had all expressed their support. “Of course we want our children to attend that school! The university acceptance rate speaks for itself!”
No one was wrong.
Parents wanted their children to succeed, to bring honor to the family, to secure a bright future. Schools wanted their students to excel, to maintain their reputation, to attract more funding. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement.
The process, the human cost, was irrelevant.
But I had already seen the future. I could control my own destiny. Why would I subject myself to that kind of torture again? To make my father proud?
Xiaodie was chatting with Zhang Mingyue, their conversation revolving around the price of clothes.
“You want to go to the Experimental High School, don’t you?” I asked Tan Lijiang, taking a sip of cola.
“How did you know?” He looked surprised. “I don’t remember telling anyone.”
“A girl’s intuition,” I teased.
“I almost believed you.”
“Am I not a girl?”
I mimicked Xiaodie’s playful tone, shrinking into myself, my eyes wide and innocent, my hands clasped between my thighs.
“Oh my god, Xiaodie, what have you done to her?”
Tan Lijiang stumbled back, scrambling towards Xiaodie as if I were a dangerous creature. “Is she possessed?”
She understood immediately. “Isn’t she adorable?”
“Adorable, yes, but this is going too far!”
“Hey, you guys, stop messing around. We need more forks. Go buy some,” Liang Tong called out, his eyes watering from the smoke billowing from the barbecue pit. He handed Tan Lijiang some money. “There’s a convenience store near the entrance. Get five forks and a pack of skewers. Hurry up, the food’s almost ready.”
“You’re sending a girl on an errand? Shame on you,” Tan Lijiang grumbled, snatching the money and darting away.
I watched him go, a strange feeling stirring within me.
“Bad memories?”
Xiaodie, her conversation with Zhang Mingyue concluded, sat beside me.
I smiled. “I was just remembering how we first met…”
The name “Lan Zhuoyue” had faded from our classmates’ memories.
But I couldn’t forget him, not truly. He was etched in my mind, both as Yi Yao and as myself.
Anyone under eighteen was still a child in my eyes.
And children rarely held grudges.
My initial encounters with Tan Lijiang and Liang Tong had been filled with conflict.
From petty arguments to basketball matches, from class competitions to random encounters, we had somehow become friends.
Children were different from adults.
They cried, then laughed. Adults laughed, then cried.
Adult grudges could last a lifetime.
“Xiaodie… what do you think of the name ‘Lan Zhuoyue’?”
I kept my voice low, so only she could hear me.
“It’s… a cool name? Sounds like someone with a strong personality, maybe a top student.”
She paused, her brow furrowed. “Why? Is he your friend, Yi Yao?”
I shook my head. “If I were to write a novel, would that be a good name for the protagonist?”
“No.”
She shook her head. “Protagonists in novels usually have rare surnames, like Ye, Fan, or Long. Like Long Aotian or Ye Liangchen. Or they have double surnames, like Ouyang or Xuanyuan. No one has the surname Lan. And ‘Lan Zhuoyue’ just sounds like a minor character.”
“So you’re saying Ouyang Dati is protagonist material?”
“Of course he is! He’s tall, handsome, muscular, rich, skilled in martial arts, and he’s a soldier! Why wouldn’t he be the protagonist?”
She had a point.
“Hey, has anyone ever grilled this before?”
Liang Tong, having set up the grill over the fire, held up two eggplants.
“You can grill those?” someone asked, surprised.
“Why not? If you can grill leeks, you can grill eggplants.”
“Leeks are good for your virility. Can eggplants do that?”
“Of course! Don’t you know how to use an eggplant?”
“You perv!”
As they bickered, I took the eggplants from Liang Tong.
“You have to cut them open first.”
I glanced around, grabbed a small knife, and sliced the eggplants lengthwise, dividing them in half.
“Grill them skin-side down first. Once they soften and the color deepens, flip them over and add some cumin. I don’t recommend chili powder. Eggplants have a natural sweetness, and adding spice would ruin the flavor.”
“Whoa, Yi Yao, you know how to cook?” Liang Tong asked, impressed.
“I learned a few things,” I said modestly.
Xiaodie wrapped her arms around my neck, her face beaming with pride. “My Yi Yao can do anything! She’s talented, intelligent, strong, and she can cook! Whoever marries her will be the luckiest person alive! Don’t miss your chance, guys!”
“Seriously, you two? Get a room! I’m calling the FFF Inquisition!”
Tan Lijiang returned, carrying a bag of forks. “Is this enough?”
“Yeah, that’s plenty,” Liang Tong replied.
“Yi Yao, we’ve been classmates for a while now, so I guess we’re pretty close. I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” Tan Lijiang said, his voice hesitant.
“What is it?”
“Well… I heard some rumors from the high school students. They said you’re a member of a gang… I know you’re pretty low-key, so I didn’t want to pry…”
His words silenced the other students, their ears perked up, their curiosity piqued.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it. I was just curious,” he added quickly, sensing my discomfort.
“It’s fine.”
I smiled. “There’s nothing to hide. Xiaodie and I are both members.”
My words were met with gasps of surprise.
“Seriously? A real gang?”
“Depends on your definition of a ‘gang.’”
“Compared to those terrorists who kidnapped you?”
“We’re on the ‘white’ side of things.”
“Connections to both sides of the law?”
“Something like that. We operate within the law, mostly. The authorities won’t bother us unless we cause serious trouble.”
“Do you carry guns?”
“Not anymore. Upper Capital City is under martial law. But before that…” I glanced at Xiaodie. “Didn’t any of you notice that she was carrying a gun to school a few weeks ago?”
“Whoa, seriously?”
“I told you we’re close. Why would I lie?”
“What is it, Tan Lijiang? What do you want?”
He nudged Liang Tong with his elbow.
“Yi Yao… can I… join your gang?” Liang Tong asked, his voice barely a whisper. “You know I’m not good at anything. My grades are terrible. I’ll probably be a failure even after I graduate from university. So I thought… maybe I could make something of myself in the underworld.”
That sounds just like you.
In high school, you had abandoned your studies, spending your days playing games and hanging out with delinquents.
“Call me ‘boss.’”
“B-boss?”
I glared at him.
He stood at attention. “Boss!”
I sighed inwardly, handing him the knife. “Start prepping the vegetables.”
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