Chapter 20

*Moon-Chasing Diary*
“One thousand folded paper stars.”
— *Moon-Chasing Diary*
-
Bang—then bang bang. Several explosions.
Across the river, they seemed to be celebrating something. Near midnight, people still moved back and forth. Fireworks burst in big blossoms over the night sky, like a hundred flowers blooming—dazzling. The empty dark sky was lit up as bright as day.
Fireworks faded, beautiful and bright.
In the hazy night, they leaned side by side against the railing by the river. The night breeze blew over, raising ripples. The water’s surface shimmered, reflecting their silhouettes.
Qin Sang looked down. The river rippled and rolled. Their shadows on the water bent and twisted, never flat, and she drifted.
Back at No.1 High, to motivate students, they didn’t just have the grade honor board and class honor boards. Each subject had its own detailed ranking.
Because of her subject imbalance and difficulty keeping up with the course load, her grades in high school were always poor—hovering in the mid-lower range. Fortunately, her humanities were strong. She barely held on and wasn’t kicked out of the experimental class. But she never made top hundred on the grade board. Even her class ranking was always at the tail.
Xie Yuncheng was different. He was inhumanly good across subjects. That was why he sat in first place for years.
Otherwise, how could Tong Junjie hate him so much? Living in someone’s shadow for years—no matter how hard you worked, you couldn’t catch up. You treated him as your only rival, your only enemy, but he barely remembered you existed, maybe didn’t even know your name. Hard not to breed jealousy.
Qin Sang thought—Tong Junjie turning into what he was had a lot to do with his own petty, vindictive nature. But facing someone like Xie Yuncheng, who beat him in everything no matter how he struggled—it was hard not to go mad with time.
If he didn’t explode in silence, he’d twist in silence.
Still…
Even Xie Yuncheng had off days.
In second year’s spring, one monthly exam, they took Chinese, math, and chemistry in the morning; English and physics in the afternoon.
The whole grade was mixed across rooms. Only a few lucky kids stayed in their own classrooms. She and some experimental-class classmates were assigned to Class Three’s room.
Since they’d be rising to senior year soon, the school deliberately increased difficulty. After the last English exam, students poured out grumbling. Even the experimental-class top students looked grim and immediately began swapping answers.
“Wasn’t question three A?”
“How could it be A? A and D are similar, but that’s the trap. They taught this point before—specifically warned us not to fall for it. You’re screwed. With that kind of obvious mistake, wait for Old Tang to roast you alive.”
“Don’t scare me. I bombed this one. My rank is going to drop. My parents will nag me to death.”
“I didn’t do great either. Ugh—”
One of the experimental-class girls called out.
“Classmate Qin, how was your English this time?”
Math was her weak spot, but her English was always excellent.
That was why she asked.
Qin Sang answered honestly. “Not bad.”
The exam overall was harder, but the tested knowledge hadn’t changed. Use it flexibly and you solved eighty percent. The remaining twenty lay in the reading and composition. The essay topic was tricky; the reading passage was hard. Translating it fully and answering based on the gist wasn’t easy.
Fortunately, she read a lot, widely and randomly, and her English base was solid. So the paper went smoothly enough.
The other girl had obviously bombed English. She sagged. “So jealous. I did terrible. Old Tang will kill me. Though… it’s not just me. I heard Xie God tripped too. Getting scolded with him—maybe I can accept it.”
Hearing that, Qin Sang’s hand stilled. “Tripped?”
“You didn’t know?”
The girl sighed. “He was late for the afternoon exam. English listening was half done when he walked in. If he wasn’t a top student, the proctor probably wouldn’t have let him in—would’ve counted him absent.”
“But even if he took it—so what? Missing half the listening questions, his score won’t be great.”
“I doubt he can keep first this time.”
With so many students in the grade, missing half the listening—just a few points—could cause rank swings. Losing first place by one point was entirely possible.
That was how harsh competition was.
“Late?” Qin Sang found it unbelievable. Xie Yuncheng might hand in early, but he’d never been late to an exam.
“Yeah—no idea where he went.” The girl was puzzled too. She dropped her voice, a little gossipy. “I heard when he came, his clothes were dirty and his arm was bleeding. Maybe he fought.”
“A classmate in his exam room said after they finished, Director Qiu from Student Affairs called him over. I’d bet it’s bad. You know what he’s like.”
No.1 High strictly enforced rules. They absolutely banned fights. Once, students from Class Seven fought technical-school kids. Director Qiu caught them and the student was expelled.
So everyone avoided him like a mouse avoids a cat. Even if they’d done nothing wrong, they instinctively hid.
Now that Director Qiu had hauled Xie Yuncheng in, it couldn’t be a small matter.
Qin Sang’s chest tightened. She worried, but didn’t want to show it. On her way back to the dorm, she took a detour toward Student Affairs. It was on the first floor.
The boy stood alone in the corridor, leaning lazily against the wall. His uniform was wrinkled, pants stained with black smears. The most gut-clenching was his right elbow—skin torn, still bleeding. It looked bad.
Yet he seemed not to feel pain. His injured right arm hung down; with his left hand he unwrapped a mint candy and popped it into his mouth. His brows were cool; his mood unreadable.
Qin Sang slowed, hugging her books.
It was late autumn. The ginkgo leaves in front of Student Affairs had gone yellow. Wind rustled through them, filling the ground with fallen gold.
Her shoes crackled softly on the leaves. Even walking carefully, she couldn’t keep from making sound.
Suddenly the office door opened. Director Qiu stepped out. “I’ve got the situation. Grandma Li said she called for help, and you went after the thief. That’s why you were late.”
“Even if it’s for a good cause, next time you should find an adult first—don’t charge in alone. Before you help others, you must protect yourself. Look—this time the knife in his hand didn’t hit anything vital. But if something happened, what about your parents?”
Xie Yuncheng’s lips twisted faintly. He didn’t answer.
“Of course…” Director Qiu, usually fierce, now smiled. “It’s good you have the heart to help. Next Monday at flag-raising, we’ll commend and praise your deed.”
“And don’t just stand here. Go to the infirmary and have Teacher Wen clean your wound. We’ll go to the hospital later. That cut looks deep—might need stitches. If it festers, it’ll be trouble.”
…
Qin Sang didn’t dare look up—she only stole glances from the corner of her eye.
He was still cold and unhurried, as if the injured one wasn’t him. At Director Qiu’s words, he only hummed.
Then his gaze shifted. She didn’t know if he’d seen her. His look slipped over and away, not lingering.
She held her breath and quickened her steps, fleeing. Behind her, the wind chased fallen leaves round and round.
…
At Monday’s flag-raising, they did commend him. The local TV station even tried to get an interview, but he wasn’t interested. The school cited “heavy workload for senior-year prep” and refused.
He didn’t show up to school that week. Rumor said the wound had festered. Since it was his right hand and never fully recovered from the last injury, now worsened in the chase, it had lost all strength.
He didn’t especially befriend classmates. Only with Jiang Mingyi was he somewhat close. People said they grew up together in the same compound.
Students often asked about him. She wanted to know too, but had no reason to ask. Maybe, to him, she didn’t even count as a classmate. Rushing up to express concern would look presumptuous.
“Brother Jiang—how’s Xie God? He hasn’t come all week. His hand isn’t really ruined, is it? Senior year’s coming. That’d be the end.”
Jiang Mingyi kicked the speaker. “Watch your mouth. You’ll be crippled before he is.”
“So he’s okay?”
Jiang Mingyi’s face darkened. “They just went to the PLA hospital. Have to see after rehab. He probably can’t come for a while.”
“Oh.” The boy scratched his head. “At least that way he doesn’t have to deal with this mess. Scores are out soon, right? With him missing listening, Tong Junjie’s been crowing that he’ll finally take first.”
Everyone thought so. Missing so much listening, he’d lose a lot of points.
Tong Junjie really did work hard. He was diligent. Only every time, he fell a bit short—long enough that “the eternal runner-up” became his nickname.
Now that Xie Yuncheng’s listening was blank, no one was happier than he was. After a rough score estimate, he thought he was sure to finally win, venting his grudge.
Jiang Mingyi frowned. “Don’t mention that jinx. His parents are honest—how’d they have that son? Face always sour, like everyone owes him. Every time I see him, I want to beat him.”
The Xies had been too kind. Letting that family move into the compound, and then the boy started acting up—staring at them, always glaring like they owed him.
Bring him along and he thought they were humiliating him. Don’t bring him and he thought they looked down on him.
You had to watch what you said around him or you might hurt his delicate ego.
Jiang Mingyi hated that kind of personality.
Damn—too much trouble for nothing.
The Xies hadn’t treated him poorly. Compared to others, his life was more than enough. His parents cherished him. Even the old man in the Xie family treated him well.
He lived better than Xie Yuncheng, the actual grandson. What was he so dissatisfied about?
People who should be mad weren’t; those who shouldn’t were stirring chaos every day.
“Brother Jiang, why don’t we skip class and go see Xie God? It’s only Old Deng’s class. You know how boring he is—puts me to sleep. We can slip out the back.”
“No,” Jiang Mingyi said. “You think I’m what—someone who cuts class and leaves early at will?”
The boy he smacked pouted, rubbing his head. “Didn’t you just get caught cutting class by Director Qiu?”
“Exactly. Why bring that up? You think he doesn’t already have his eye on me? If I get caught again, he’ll rat me out to my dad. Want me beaten to death?”
“No way.” The boy grinned. “I know a perfect place. Back hill has a dog hole in the fence. We can sneak out there. He’ll never know.”
“Get lost,” Jiang Mingyi snapped. “You crawl through the dog hole yourself.”
…
Despite his words, when Old Deng’s class started, Jiang Mingyi and that boy disappeared.
That year, a “paper-star folding” craze had spread through other classes. Boys and girls folded them during every break.
Liu Chengcheng dragged Qin Sang to the shop to buy a jar and colored strips. “Sang-sang, aren’t you getting one? They say it’s magical. Every time you fold one you make a silent wish. Once you fold a thousand, your wish will come true.”
Would it?
Qin Sang hesitated, then still bought a stack of strips and a jar.
Those days, she folded after each class. At first they looked bad, but she became smoother and faster.
Eventually, she folded all one thousand.
Each star held a pure, girlish wish:
“May Classmate Xie turn misfortune into safety and recover soon.”
“May Classmate Xie’s days go smoothly. May he always be happy.”
“May Classmate Xie’s monthly exam go well—no more accidents.”
…
She didn’t know if the stars were really that magical. But her wishes seemed to come true.
When results came out, the grade honor board was posted again. The top hundred had a shakeup.
Her name appeared in the last fifty. And as for Xie Yuncheng…
“How? Impossible! No way!”
Pale-faced, glasses-boy Tong Junjie shouted, “I don’t believe it. There must be a problem. He faked his score!”
“Bullshit,” Jiang Mingyi said, one hand in his pocket and the other holding a ball. “Who the hell faked scores? Say that again.”
Tong Junjie’s face was thin, and the glasses made him look gloomy. “Am I wrong? Everyone in second year knows he missed listening. How is he still first? If it’s not fake, what is it? Oh—”
He laughed darkly. “You rich people are different. A bit of ‘operation’ and you steal someone else’s spot.”
Jiang Mingyi slammed the ball toward him. “Watch your mouth. Don’t think I won’t hit you.”
“Calm down, Brother Jiang. A demerit for someone like him isn’t worth it.”
Their classmates held him back tightly.
Tong Junjie’s smile was warped. “What, Jiang Mingyi? Acting tough in front of me? Aren’t you the one who got beaten half to death for skipping class the other day?”
“You?” Jiang Mingyi realized. “You tattled to my dad? Are you sick? How old are you and you’re still playing that game? Disgusting.”
“More disgusting than you? You people can erase an ordinary person’s hard work with a flick. If he fakes scores now, imagine him in society—he’ll be lawless.”
The watching students fell silent. Some frowned, but in the end they kept quiet.
“Do you have proof?”
A clear, crisp girl’s voice cut through the air.
Seeing “Xie Yuncheng” at the top of the board, the joy in Qin Sang’s eyes hadn’t yet faded when she heard Tong Junjie’s venom.
She pressed her lips; her brows furrowed. “What right do you have to spread rumors? You’ve lost to him more than once. If he keeps first even after missing half the listening, that’s his ability. You couldn’t catch him—that’s your lack. Why shift your blame to someone else? Do you assume everyone shares your narrow mind?”
“Scores are open. Papers will be handed back. You think we’re all idiots who can’t see anomalies? It’s just a monthly exam. Even if you fail, there are more chances. Why risk so much to rig it?”
“Not everyone is as unable to lose as you. Classmate Xie has a much broader heart.”
…
It was the first time she’d spoken at length in front of others.
Her hands shook, but her gaze was firm.
The scene spilled into the teachers’ ears. As she’d said, scores were transparent. To quell gossip, the school took out Xie Yuncheng’s papers and passed them around.
He had indeed lost a lot in listening. But every other subject was full marks. And because this exam was tough, the whole grade’s scores fell. Only he stayed stable.
Old Tang took the chance to lecture. “Some of you need to adjust your mindset. I’ve told you many times—the gaokao is a test of mentality. Only with a good one can you do well. Never be arrogant. Even when you see a question you’re sure of, you must check carefully. Don’t lose points to carelessness.”
Tong Junjie’s math wasn’t bad, but this time he lost a lot from mistakes. Two big problems at the end were off because of a wrong number. And his weak English was a mess in the final reading and essay.
He had nothing to say. He couldn’t argue or slander others anymore.
…
Qin Sang had always thought herself cowardly.
She’d never dared reveal a shred of her feelings.
But that year, even a coward was brave once—
Standing under the sun, in front of everyone, to defend the boy she liked.
_
Qin Sang looked up just in time to see the scar of a firework’s fall across the sky—like a meteor’s tail.
She’d folded one thousand stars to wish him safety and smooth days.
Now, she finally had a chance to stand beside him and say her wish out loud.
“Classmate Xie,” she said softly, smiling. “Aren’t the fireworks beautiful? After every cloud comes the moon. So—you’ll definitely turn misfortune around and bounce back.”