Snowball: Just throw that bag of stuff away

"Sizzle~" The oil crackled in the pan. Liang Xiaoqing knew Wang Qing had left, but she went about her cooking as if nothing had happened. The vegetable was oilseed rape that Yang Man had given her that morning—a vibrant green, tender-looking, and even more emerald after hitting the hot oil.

A leafy fragrance wafted from the wok. Liang Xiaoqing gave it a few quick stirs, added seasoning, then picked up a piece with her chopsticks to taste. It was hot enough to make her pull her tongue back with a hiss, but it tasted fine—not too salty, not too bland.

She scooped the greens onto a plate, then checked the congee bubbling in the pressure cooker. A pressure cooker was a godsend—it cooked things both flavorful and fast, perfect for someone like her.

With the greens set aside, she decided to stir-fry some shredded potatoes as well. Jiang Xu seemed to enjoy them. One more dish wouldn't be too much trouble.

She had shredded the potatoes with a grater—she couldn't cut them as fine with a knife. Her knife skills weren't great. Yang Man had told her that the finer the shreds, the better; they cooked quickly, tossed over high heat until just done, and tasted especially good with a pinch of dried chili thrown in.

The shredded potatoes were soaking in water. Once the oil in the wok was hot, she tossed in scallion, ginger, and garlic, letting them sizzle until fragrant before she quickly lifted the potatoes from the water and dumped them in.

"Sizzle... crackle..." The sound of oil meeting water exploded. Liang Xiaoqing stepped back a little, waiting for the sputtering to die down before leaning in to stir again. Everything was unfolding in an orderly fashion. Then the door rang again. Her heart skipped a beat. She switched off the heat, wiped her hands, and went to answer it.

The knocking came hurried. As she walked, she called out, "Coming, coming," and frowned slightly—but when she opened the door and saw Yang Man, the irritation melted into a smile. "Sister Yang."

Yang Man squeezed past her into the room. Smoke hung thick in the air, and she waved a hand in front of her face. "Oh, Xiaoqing, what are you making? The whole place is full of smoke."

Liang Xiaoqing left the door open to air things out and headed back to the kitchen, flipping the stove back on to continue cooking. "Just cooking."

Yang Man followed her in and stood beside her. "Xiaoqing, the exhaust in this place is terrible."

Liang Xiaoqing smiled. "It works well enough."

Yang Man looked disapproving. "All that oily smoke—you'll ruin that pretty face of yours. You want to turn into a housewife? A girl like you should take the best care of her skin." She fanned the smoke again. "Don't rely on your good genes and let yourself go. Skin care is a whole science. I'll give you some of my face cream later. If you don't take care of yourself, by thirty your face will sag—a cliff-drop decline!"

There was a hint of playful scolding in her words. Liang Xiaoqing laughed. "Sister Yang, it's not that exaggerated."

Yang Man turned serious, drawing out her words. "It's true, I'm not lying to you!"

"Alright, then I'll be in your care, Sister Yang," Liang Xiaoqing said, referring to the face cream.

Yang Man assured her, "It's guaranteed to work; you'll wake up glowing tomorrow morning."

"..."

Seeing Liang Xiaoqing absorbed in her cooking, Yang Man wore a knowing expression, nudged her with an elbow, and leaned in gossip. "So? How's it going?"

"How's what going?"

Yang Man clicked her tongue. "Oh, you and Wang Qing!" The more she thought about it, the more she felt Wang Qing wasn't bad. "He just came to your place, didn't he?"

Liang Xiaoqing's hand paused. "Sister Yang, how did you know?" Her expression darkened slightly; she clearly didn't want to dwell on it.

Yang Man was still lost in her own judgment. "I ran into him downstairs. He came specifically to see you."

The potatoes were done; Liang Xiaoqing scooped them onto a plate, her tone flat. "What 'how's it going'? Sister Yang, he just came to drop something off. Where's your mind going?"

Yang Man thought she was being dense—no wonder she still didn't have a suitable match. "You silly girl, Xiaoqing. He goes out of his way to bring you something, but doesn't bring me any?"

Liang Xiaoqing opened the pressure cooker, and a burst of steam hit her face. Yang Man stepped aside. Liang Xiaoqing picked up a clean bowl and ladled out the congee—she'd chopped peanuts and cooked them with the rice; the porridge was thick and fragrant with peanut sweetness. She glanced at Yang Man, who wore a look of utter seriousness, and said, "Wang Qing and I are just colleagues, a bit more familiar than others. It's not as complicated as you're imagining..."

Yang Man: "..."

Liang Xiaoqing went on speaking to herself. "Sister Yang, why don't you stay and eat with us?"

"No, no, I've got something simmering at home too—it's just hot in here, and I needed to cool down." Yang Man felt she wasn't taking the matter seriously, which wasn't a good sign. She spoke sternly, "Xiaoqing, I'm not one to nag, but you're not young anymore. Wang Qing is a teacher here, a solid, dependable man. You both work at the same school, so it's easy to see each other. I can tell he's taken a liking to you. Whatever the case, get to know him a bit; worry about the rest later."

She paused, then continued, "Normally, these aren't my place to say. But you're at the right age—if it suits, marriage could be within the next couple of years. Everyone around lives that way. If you insist on being different, people will talk behind your back. You're just not putting your mind to these things..."

Liang Xiaoqing was well aware of what people said behind her back—that she was a hypocrite, that she had her nose in the air, too proud to look at anyone, that maybe something was wrong with her for not considering marriage at her age.

When everyone around you repeats the same actions, and those actions are deemed right and natural by society, being different invites quiet scrutiny. Especially for someone like her—decent-looking, clearly not lacking in suitors.

She'd suffered such looks long ago.

Her heart gave a sudden twinge. She calmly carried the food to the table, then went back for the dishes. Not wanting to dismiss Yang Man's goodwill, she forced a small smile. "I know, Sister Yang. I'll keep it in mind."

Yang Man gave a satisfied nod. "Good. I'll head back to eat then; my meal's probably cold by now."

"Mm," Liang Xiaoqing replied.

She sat down at the table and wondered why Jiang Xu hadn't returned yet.

"Oh, Jiang Xu's back! Why are you standing at the door?"

Jiang Xu greeted her. "Hello, Teacher Yang."

"Go on in. Xiaoqing's waiting for you to eat."

"..."

Hearing the noise, Liang Xiaoqing looked toward the door and saw it was indeed Jiang Xu. She quickly stood up to call her over, brushing aside the earlier thoughts.

Jiang Xu didn't move. The door was shut from outside by Yang Man.

Liang Xiaoqing walked over and pulled her arm. "Why are you standing there? Come eat."

Jiang Xu seemed to snap back to reality and gave an "mm."

Liang Xiaoqing set Jiang Xu's schoolbag on the sofa and guided her to the table.

"Did you go to Jiang Erya's place again? What did she say this time?" She sat across from Jiang Xu and handed her a pair of chopsticks. Jiang Xu took them but didn't look at her. "No, I stayed at school to do homework."

"Oh."

Maybe it was her imagination, but the air around them felt cooler. Not only that, Jiang Xu seemed a bit off. Liang Xiaoqing stirred her congee with her chopsticks and asked, "Xiao Xu, did something happen today?"

Whether happy or sad, Jiang Xu would usually share with her. She'd expected to have to comfort Jiang Xu during the meal, but Jiang Xu only shook her head, indicating nothing was wrong.

Unused to this strained atmosphere, Liang Xiaoqing ate in subdued silence, occasionally glancing at Jiang Xu's eating habits. Jiang Xu ate methodically and quickly. Liang Xiaoqing felt a pang of disappointment that Jiang Xu wasn't talking to her.

But that's how teenagers were—you never knew what they wanted to say and what they didn't until they chose to tell you. Only then could you understand what was in their heart.

Before long, Liang Xiaoqing had other things to busy herself with. Jiang Xu ate faster than her; she was slower. Judging from Jiang Xu's eating, she seemed fine. Jiang Xu sat in her seat watching her. Liang Xiaoqing had just a bit left in her bowl. She slurped it down and noticed Jiang Xu still watching her with a calm gaze.

The dishes she'd made were nearly finished. Liang Xiaoqing thought Jiang Xu might want to talk again and asked, "How is it? Better than last time, right?" Her cooking wasn't great—she could get by on her own, but with Jiang Xu around, she'd had to ask Yang Man for advice. Last time, she'd accidentally added too much salt, making it very salty, but Jiang Xu had eaten it without a change in expression.

That had made Liang Xiaoqing feel guilty afterward.

Jiang Xu seemed lost in thought, distracted, but she caught what Liang Xiaoqing said and blinked. "It's very good, Sister Xiaoqing."

Slightly wistful, Liang Xiaoqing asked with concern, "Xiao Xu, what's wrong? Did something happen? If it's about your studies, don't stress too much. Grades fluctuate; it's normal. Not every time has to be first place. Before the high school entrance exam, every test is a chance to find and fix gaps. Don't put too much pressure on yourself..."

Liang Xiaoqing often felt she'd become annoyingly talkative—she herself got tired of hearing her own advice, yet Jiang Xu managed to endure it.

Jiang Xu's brows furrowed in a heavy frown that lingered for a long while.

"I know, Sister Xiaoqing. Don't worry." A faint smile appeared on her face. After Liang Xiaoqing took her last bite, Jiang Xu stood up to clear the dishes.

Seeing how considerate she was, Liang Xiaoqing felt a wave of relief and hummed in acknowledgment, not wanting to add more pressure. Some things were better left unsaid.

Besides, she trusted Jiang Xu.

In the evening, it finally cooled down a little. After her shower, she saw Jiang Xu still working on a test paper, with two mosquitoes flitting around the desk lamp. She patted Jiang Xu on the shoulder. "Go take a shower; you need to get up early tomorrow."

Jiang Xu was just finishing the last big problem. Liang Xiaoqing, fresh from her bath, was wearing the pajamas she'd bought that awkward time—she'd gotten two sets, and she'd chosen the dress-style one for convenience, quick to put on and wash. Jiang Xu didn't care; either would do. She closed the test paper and nodded, noticing that Liang Xiaoqing had already laid out her pajamas.

Soon the sound of water echoed from the bathroom. Liang Xiaoqing also heated a glass of milk for Jiang Xu, and when Jiang Xu emerged, she reminded her to drink it. Jiang Xu didn't seem to like milk—if no one watched, she'd skip it. So she sat on the edge of Jiang Xu's bed waiting. Even in summer, she'd bought a bunk bed, so they slept separately.

The old fan by the bed creaked slowly back and forth, like a lullaby. Liang Xiaoqing's eyelids grew heavy as she sat there, and before she knew it, she'd leaned against the headboard, thinking she'd get up when Jiang Xu came out.

"Creak, creak—" The fan seemed to hum her to sleep.

When Jiang Xu stepped out of the bathroom, she saw Liang Xiaoqing had dozed off, slumped against the bed. The damp heat clinging to her skin evaporated the moment she exited, cooling her body. Her hair was twisted into a bun, with a few stray strands plastered wetly to her ears.

Her heart began to beat strangely fast, accompanied by a secret throb. She crept closer, afraid of waking her. On the side table, the milk was still gently steaming. Jiang Xu glanced at it, picked it up, and drank it all.

Then she stood there, staring at Liang Xiaoqing's face, lost in thought.

The light in this room needed replacing—it was dim and yellowed, the bulb dying. Without the desk lamp, it was impossible to read. Jiang Xu carefully lifted Liang Xiaoqing's legs onto the bed, moving with great care, and laid a thin blanket over her. Liang Xiaoqing was sound asleep, her head tilted to one side.

Her loose hair lay softly across her chest. The collar of her nightgown had shifted, revealing a sliver of pale skin. Jiang Xu's gaze darted away quickly, a blush creeping onto her cheeks. She bent down, lifting Liang Xiaoqing's upper body to adjust her head onto the pillow. She managed it perfectly—didn't wake her.

But when she held her close, Liang Xiaoqing's breath brushed against her ear, making it tingle.

Her heart raced even faster for no reason. Liang Xiaoqing carried a faint fragrance, and even that brief embrace seemed to leave the scent clinging to her. It was both soothing and addictive. Jiang Xu sat by the bed, watching her sleep for a long moment. Her fingers, as if scratching an itch, gently twirled a strand of Liang Xiaoqing's hair, then combed through it. Like a newborn clinging to its mother's embrace.

Sister Xiaoqing was beautiful at any time—even in sleep, she was beautiful.

Yet Jiang Xu couldn't stop a wave of sadness from rising. Her eyes reddened, and tears welled up quickly.

She might truly be "sick." Like everyone else in the world who wished Liang Xiaoqing well, she wanted her to be happy, to be joyful, to lead an easier life in the future. She occasionally understood bits of adult affairs.

Like how women, at the right age, were expected to marry—there were no women who didn't marry.

Marriage was the natural next step.

If it meant Sister Xiaoqing would be happy, Jiang Xu would want her to walk down that path. But she was terrified to realize that such a path would take Liang Xiaoqing further and further from her.

She didn't like the way Wang Qing looked at Sister Xiaoqing, didn't like how overly familiar he was with her, and certainly didn't like him coming to the house.

She had overheard the conversation between Yang Man and Sister Xiaoqing, and it stung. Ever since she realized her feelings for Liang Xiaoqing were different, she'd deliberately kept her distance, only to unconsciously pull closer. Jiang Xu wrestled with herself for a long time but couldn't sort it out. Instead, a more selfish thought crept in: She and Sister Xiaoqing were living together now—couldn't they keep living together forever?

If so, did it even matter whether she said anything?

But she knew all too well her own helplessness. She couldn't hold onto Sister Xiaoqing; Liang had her own plans. She wasn't from Shuiqing Town—her home wasn't here, and she had a past.

As for those feelings, no one would ever think of her that way.

She silently endured this volatile emotion—bitter, sour, sweet, all mixed together, known only to her. She'd become more sensitive and anxious than before, sometimes tormented, sometimes sweet. Compared to her peers, Jiang Xu was already mature, weighing more things and having experienced more.

Life and death, familial coldness—she'd grown up in such conditions, and deep down, she was the same kind of person. But if one day Sister Xiaoqing truly left her, she couldn't bear to imagine it.

Sister Xiaoqing had given her things she'd never felt before, brought her experiences unlike any other.

Faced with such heavy questions, she found she had no say at all.

All she could do was watch Sister Xiaoqing walk away from her.

Jiang Xu cried quietly, holding back, feeling wronged and vaguely resentful toward Liang Xiaoqing.

But it was all her own problem.

She had no one to confide in, so she kept it all bottled inside, and the issue grew like a snowball rolling downhill.

Jiang Xu switched off the light and got into bed from the other side, curling into a ball and inching closer to Liang Xiaoqing, seeking comfort for her restless heart.

She took Liang Xiaoqing's arm and hugged it to her chest.

Huddled under the covers like a puppy, Jiang Xu slept uneasily, disturbed by her inner anxiety. Half-awake, she felt the arm she was holding stir. Her head rested against Liang Xiaoqing's chest, and when Liang spoke, she felt the vibration there.

"Xiao Xu." Liang Xiaoqing had woken from her touch and tried to lift her arm, but found she couldn't. She looked into the dark, then called again, more softly, "Xiao Xu..."—her voice clearly resigned.

Jiang Xu kept her eyes closed, feigning sleep. The only sound in the quiet dark was her steady breath. She felt Liang Xiaoqing gently rest a hand on her shoulder, and she shifted her head slightly upward, pressing her cheek against Liang Xiaoqing's neck. Liang's skin was cool and soothing. Liang knew she was awake too and patted her shoulder. "Did you drink the milk?"

Even now, Liang Xiaoqing's first concern was Jiang Xu's well-being.

Jiang Xu's mood lightened slightly—no matter what Wang Qing did, Liang Xiaoqing would never treat him like this. But then a stray thought crossed her mind: what if Liang Xiaoqing slept next to someone else like this? If she got married, would this be how it was? Jiang Xu's understanding of marriage was still vague, but just imagining Liang Xiaoqing sharing even a small moment of intimacy with someone else made her stomach twist.

Her body stiffened, and her voice came out dry as she rubbed her cheek against Liang's neck. "I drank it."

It sounded raspy.

"..." Liang Xiaoqing lifted her chin slightly—Jiang Xu's hair was tangled around her neck, and its owner was still clinging to her. The closeness was uncomfortable; two people pressed together, especially in summer, made the heat worse. Jiang Xu's body temperature was higher than hers, so she felt both hot and itchy.

"Xiao Xu, let go of me first..."

Jiang Xu pretended not to hear.

Liang Xiaoqing nudged her head with her hand. "...Xiao Xu, what's wrong?"

When the old fan turned back to their side, Liang Xiaoqing found it wasn't so hot after all.

But being squeezed by Jiang Xu in this heat was still strange.

"You..."—her biggest worry was that Jiang Xu was ill.

"...Sister Xiaoqing, can you sleep with me tonight?"

A breeze from the fan tickled Liang Xiaoqing's back. Jiang Xu's voice sounded pitiful, and she couldn't think too much, so she softly said, "Okay." Her hand came to rest on Jiang Xu's back, patting gently. "Sleep; I'm here."

Her care for Jiang Xu trumped everything else. Even as her nightgown rode up, exposing her thigh, and Jiang Xu's leg accidentally brushed against hers with a jolt of heat and discomfort, she let it go.

And Jiang Xu thought: that bag of things—just throw it away.