There were moments when Chen An resented Li Jun Jie more than she usually did. One of those moments was now. Their literature teacher, Mr. Wen, was an older gentleman who needed to squint to see, even through his spectacles as thick as fried buns. Whenever he asked a question, Chen An would raise her hand, but Li Jun Jie's lanky arms would reach Mr. Wen's sight first.
Alas, Chen An accepted that this was likely karma catching up to her: she had once towered over Li Jun Jie when they were kids and teased him for being a late bloomer. She did not expect, however, that he would bloom so quickly once the time came.
But, she was not one to back down so easily. The class began to read aloud a poem from their textbook, reciting each character monotonously:
"Thin mist, pale sun,
My mind wanders; I cannot break my thoughts.
Withered trees, lonely crows,
My heart is as heavy as the autumn sky."
As the class droned on, Chen An gave Li Jun Jie a discreet glance. His usual emotionless expression was plastered on his face, but the smug smirk beginning to tug at the corner of lips was one that Chen An knew too well, and it irritated her beyond all else.
Peering down at the book that seemed much too small in his hands, Mr. Wen, who reminded Chen An more and more of a mouse, asked the class, "Can anyone provide an interpretation of the poem we just read together?"
Before he could even finish his question, Chen An's hand shot up in the air, nearly pulling her out of her seat. Beside her, Li Jun Jie raised his hand annoyingly slowly, surpassing hers yet again.
Finally looking up, Mr. Wen scanned the room, but behind the glare of his eyeglasses, it was hard to tell who his eyes landed on. "Yes, Chen An?"
Chen An resisted the urge to give Li Jun Jie a gloating smile. She had read this poem many times before in her mother's journal, her mother's careful penmanship writing careless thoughts in the crowded margins. "Nature mirrors the poet's yearning for a distant lover. The image in the first line describes the veil of loneliness that obscures the brightness of his heart. His thoughts are trapped in a cycle of longing until he feels empty like when autumn turns to winter."
"Very good, Chen An," Mr. Wen praised.
Before he could turn back to his book, Li Jun Jie raised his hand yet again. "Mr. Wen, I disagree with Chen An."
Mr. Wen looked at him curiously. "Please share your thoughts with the class, Li Jun Jie."
"The poem is a metaphor for the human experience of desire that ultimately leads to suffering. The first line is not about loneliness but about the fleeting nature of happiness. The poet wants the reader to understand that finding peace requires letting go of attachments," Li Jun Jie explained without any hesitation.
Stroking his graying mustache, Mr. Wen pondered for a moment. "That is a very novel idea, indeed, Li Jun Jie. Your thoughts are a valuable addition to this class."
Li Jun Jie gave a reserved smile and lowered his head to his textbook. Chen An felt a tightening in her chest, and squeezed the page held between her fingers.
Lu Xi Xi elbowed her lightly, mouthing the words, "Are you okay?"
Letting go of the paper, Chen An forced a smile and nodded back at her. This was how it had always been: in every subject, in every year. It was something she was bound to get used to. Chen An looked down at her textbook as the class continued, but could not stop staring at the crumpled corner of the page.
It was the time of year when it was just warm enough to sit outside during lunchtime, and the courtyard was bustling with students. The leaves began to give way to scarlet, and the last batch of autumn flowers budded through the central garden. If Chen An could stay here forever, she undoubtedly would. Lu Xi Xi pulled an earbud from Chen An's ear, startling her. "We should go set up early for orchestra practice."
Chen An nodded, and Lu Xi Xi took it as approval to link their arms and pull her in the direction of the practice room, nearly skipping with her steps.
Lu Xi Xi turned to Chen An, her upbeat pace never slowing. "Wasn't Li Jun Jie's interpretation of the poem in literature class pretty cool?"
Chen An let out an exasperated sigh. "Don't even mention his name. I don't want to think about him any more than I already have to."
But, Lu Xi Xi did not take her hint, instead looking up at her like a curious kitten. "How is it possible that you two have been in the same class since kindergarten?"
"Bad luck, I suppose. Except the fifth grade." Chen An then muttered under her breath. "Maybe the universe finally felt bad for me."
As the pair headed down the hallway, a familiar figure entering the school lobby caught Chen An's eye. "Mrs. Li!" she called, waving her hand to get her attention.
The woman looked around for the source of the sound, finally finding Chen An in the crowd of students. "An An, it's a good thing you're here." She pulled a thick packet of papers out of her bag. "Can you deliver these to the art teacher? Jun Jie accidentally left them at home."
Chen An hated to do anything to help Li Jun Jie but could never refuse his mother. "Of course, Mrs. Li. I'll go deliver them now before rehearsal."
Mrs. Li thanked her and disappeared out of the building as quickly as she came.
"You go ahead, Xi Xi. I'll meet you there."
The hallways to the art classroom was nearly empty at lunchtime; all the students were gathered outside to rest before their afternoon classes began. Chen An walked leisurely through the long corridors, leafing through the packet. As she expected, it was an application for the city art contest. Though Chen An hated losing to Li Jun Jie in anything regard, he was admittedly the best artist at Jinling High School. Landing on a page printed with Li Jun Jie's glaring school ID photo, she wrinkled her nose automatically and closed the packet to avoid the sight.
Arriving at the art room, a place she only ever visited to deliver documents for other teachers, she peered through the small square window at the top of the door. Sure enough, Li Jun Jie was alone inside, facing an easel, though the paper pinned to it was obscured from Chen An's sight. The overhead fluorescent lights were turned off, giving the impression that the room was empty. Only sunlight illuminated the room, the remainder of a reluctantly fleeting summer. It cast through him, making the tips of his hair and eyelashes appear tinged with copper. He held a pencil as lightly as a feather between two fingers, raising it against the easel with a squinted eye. The tense expression he always held was replaced by one of tranquility. Indeed, he was an artist, the scene as striking as any art piece.
An approaching figure diverted Chen An's attention. A young man approached with a beaming smile. In a curious way, he reminded Chen An of Li Jun Jie, though in appearance only. His radiant aura could not be farther from the stone-cold boy's.
"Are you an art student?" he asked Chen An, his voice like warm honey.
Chen An shook her head. "No, I am just here to drop off a document."
"Ah, I am the art teacher's assistant, Shen Li Xin. I can pass it along for you, if you'd like."
Chen An nodded and handed him the papers, but as she turned to leave, he interrupted her mid step. "If you'd like to come by, we hold art lessons for children in the afternoons. All students are welcome, regardless of their art level."
Turning to face him, it was hard to deny the hopeful expression that shone in his eyes. Chen An only nodded again, and he smiled back at her, those eyes becoming crescents.
As she returned down the same hallway from which she came, it seemed to glow a little bit brighter.