The silence in the carriage was so palpable that it felt like a heavy weight pressing down on one's chest.
The only sounds were the faint hum of the air - conditioner and the occasional soft noise of Zhou Qiao's knuckles rubbing against the steering wheel due to his nervousness.
Yan Qiubai leaned back on the seat and closed his eyes.
The past that he had deliberately buried came back to the surface uncontrollably because of Yan Sisi's words.
At that time, he was still studying in the United States. During the holiday, he was summoned back to the country to visit the old master.
In the Yan family mansion, the atmosphere was always tense.
The looks in the eyes of his aunts, uncles, and their spouses were full of scrutiny and calculation.
It was as if he was not a living person but an item up for sale that might affect their distribution of interests.
When he returned to his parents' home, what greeted him was not warmth but endless admonitions -
"Show yourself more in front of the old master." "Seize the opportunity." "Don't let the second and third branches get the upper hand."
For the first time, he clearly saw the undisguised vulgarity and eagerness on his parents' faces.
He felt that home was even more suffocating than the outside world.
So he always looked for opportunities to slip out and wander aimlessly nearby, trying to find a moment of relief.
On the third time he slipped out, in a park not far from home, he saw the girl sitting on a bench.
She was wearing a clean blue - and - white school uniform skirt. Her figure already had the graceful poise of a young girl, but her shoulders were trembling slightly.
She was crying, and crying very sadly. She tightly clutched a phone with a cute phone case in her hand and was intermittently saying something to the person on the other end of the phone.
Yan Qiubai didn't want to pry into others' privacy, but he just happened to be sitting in a pavilion not far from the bench.
The girl's sobbing voice drifted into his ears intermittently on the gentle breeze of early summer.
"… You're talking nonsense! Even if you're not outstanding and can't compare with others, I'll always stand by your side!"
"… You're a really good person. I'll never be afraid of you…"
"When will you come back? Can I go and pick you up?"
"… Do you still need treatment? Then… when will it end? I miss you so much…"
"Then… can I call you every day? … What about sending messages? Is it okay to send messages? …"
Her voice was thick with a nasal tone, but her tone was extremely firm, full of unwavering support and overflowing heartache.
Yan Qiubai sat there.
Listening to these words that he had never heard before and could hardly imagine anyone saying to him, his heart felt like it was gently hit by something, sour and bitter.
He couldn't help but wonder who the person on the other end of the phone was.
Why could that person so naturally receive the unreserved and unconditional favor of another person?
One didn't need to be outstanding or perfect. Just being this person was enough?
He watched as the girl finished the call but didn't leave immediately. Instead, she hugged her knees, buried her face in her arms, and sat on the bench for a long time.
There was no one else around. Her thin back looked extremely lonely and pitiful in the afternoon sun.
Almost instinctively, Yan Qiubai stood up and walked over.
He took out a pack of clean tissues from his pocket and held it out to the girl. His voice was gentle, a tone he didn't even notice himself.
"Do you need any help?"
The girl seemed startled and suddenly looked up.
At that moment, Yan Qiubai felt his breath catch.
It was an extremely delicate face, with fair skin, a straight nose, and full lips.
The most charming thing was her eyes. Even though they were swollen from crying and looked like two water - soaked peaches, they were still clear and bright.
The corners of her eyes were slightly upturned, exuding a natural and unconscious charm, but her eyes were as pure as a young deer in the forest.
Tears had wet her eyelashes, clumping them together in small clusters. She was fragile and stunningly beautiful.
Seeing the strange him, she was a bit flustered and quickly wiped away her tears with the back of her hand. She asked in a small, embarrassed voice.
"Sorry, did I disturb you?"
That afternoon, the sun was shining brightly, and the tree shadows were dancing.
Two strange teenagers sat on the park bench. That opening remark was the beginning of their acquaintance.
Perhaps because she had been suppressing her feelings for too long and had no one to talk to, Meng Ruozhao unexpectedly opened up to this stranger.
She told him that her best friend was ill and had been forcibly sent by his family to a far - away sanitarium. No one was allowed to visit him.
"But I know he's not sick!"
The girl's tone was full of anxiety and indignation.
"He's just… just a bit unhappy recently."
"Why can't one be unhappy? Why does one have to be positive every day?"
Her voice dropped, full of heartache.
"His parents said he had no right to be decadent and that some bad things in the family were all his fault. But it's not his fault at all…"
The unwavering trust and deep heartache in her words deeply touched Yan Qiubai again.
He suddenly felt that this "friend" whom he had never met but was so well - defended by her was really lucky and enviable.
Perhaps influenced by her or because his pent - up emotions needed an outlet.
Yan Qiubai also unexpectedly told her about his own predicament.
He told her about his parents who regarded him as a pawn in the fight for power.
About the shell of being an "elite" that had trapped him tightly.
About his life in which he was not allowed to make any mistakes.
About how every time he encountered setbacks and failures, what he received was never encouragement and comfort but more severe criticism, blame, and even scolding.
"I really hate the dark room."
His voice was dry, with a faint tremor.
"Every time I was punished and locked in it for making mistakes, it was so dark and quiet, with nothing…"
"At that time, I felt that I was not like a person but more like a… dog abandoned by its owner."
After he finished speaking, he pulled the corner of his mouth self - deprecatingly.
He was waiting for the girl to say something like "Your parents are doing this for your own good" or "You're already luckier than many people" like others did.
However, after listening, Meng Ruozhao frowned her delicate eyebrows. Her eyes were filled with pure sympathy and earnestness.
She looked at him and said firmly.
"None of this is your fault."
"Some parents just don't know how to be parents! If they took a parent - qualification test, they would definitely fail!"
Yan Qiubai was stunned.
This was the first time he had heard such a statement.
It was like a weak but determined ray of light that suddenly shone into his gloomy and oppressive world.
It turned out that his grievances and pains that were not understood.
Could be acknowledged and attributed to "not being his fault".
That afternoon.
The sun, the tree shadows, the bench, and the tear - stained but bright - eyed girl beside him formed the only bright and warm picture in Yan Qiubai's gray youth.
At the age of first love, he carefully tucked this nameless little girl into his heart.