They say, forget all that happened yesterday —
the bruises hidden beneath the surface, the harsh words that cut deep,
and the silent battles fought alone.
But sometimes, letting go is not about forgetting,
it's about finding the courage to stand again.
When tomorrow comes, it may bring new faces, new hands to hold,
and a chance to rewrite the story,
not by erasing the pain, but by learning to carry it differently.
For even in the darkest moments,
a flicker of hope can ignite a quiet strength —
the strength to keep walking forward,
to trust in the unexpected allies who may appear,
and to believe that every new day holds the promise of healing."
September 5, 2000
As always, the day began. The teacher entered the classroom with a bright mood, and every student greeted her politely. She began writing the English lesson on the board, her chalk scratching softly against the black surface.
Behind her, Wang Zixuan was chatting quietly with his friends, his voice low but noticeable enough to disrupt the calm. Suddenly, the teacher turned sharply and warned Zixuan to stay obedient.
Witnessing this, Su Nian couldn't help but let out a small laugh, a quiet sound that broke the tension in the room.
Zixuan's face flushed with embarrassment. His eyes locked onto Su Nian, burning with anger.
The classroom fell into a hushed silence once more. Su Nian quickly lowered her gaze to her desk, pretending to focus on her textbook, though the faint smile lingering on her lips betrayed her amusement.
Zixuan clenched his fists, the sting of being reprimanded compounded by Su Nian's unexpected reaction. He wasn't used to being challenged, especially not in front of everyone — and certainly not by someone like her.
In that moment, beneath the mundane routine of a school day, something shifted between them — a fragile thread of rivalry, tension, and unspoken challenge that neither could yet name.
The English class finally came to an end. The bell rang, and the usual chatter erupted as students rushed out toward the canteen for lunch.
Su Nian, quiet and unnoticed as ever, made her way through the crowd. She picked up her lunch tray and walked to a table at the far corner of the room. As expected, no one joined her. But she was used to it. The loneliness no longer stung like it used to. She simply unfolded her chopsticks, lowered her head, and began eating in silence, finding some peace in the routine.
Moments later, loud laughter echoed through the canteen. Wang Zixuan and his group had arrived. As they passed her table, Zixuan's eyes flicked toward her—just for a second—and a strange, unreadable smile touched his lips.
Su Nian paused mid-bite. That smile—it wasn't his usual mocking grin, nor was it friendly. It was something else. Something unsettling. Her brows furrowed slightly. What was that about? she wondered, her heart twitching with unease.
Zixuan and his friends settled down at the table directly behind her. Their voices weren't loud, but loud enough for her to hear the snickering.
"Something surprising is gonna happen in the next class," one of them said with a mischievous laugh.
The others chuckled, as if sharing an inside joke. Su Nian's spine straightened. She tried to focus on her food, but the weight of their presence pressed against her like a shadow.
Then, it happened.
Without warning, a small piece of red curry leaf flew through the air and landed on the sleeve of her uniform. It clung there—bright, oily, and intentional.
A brief silence followed. Not from the whole canteen—just in Su Nian's world.
Her eyes fell on the stain, then slowly lifted, scanning the space around her. She didn't need to look far. A couple of students were already giggling behind their hands. Zixuan wasn't laughing—but that smile still lingered on his face.
She reached for a napkin, her fingers steady but cold. With quiet dignity, she wiped the mark off her sleeve. Her appetite had vanished, but she forced herself to chew, bite by bite, like nothing had happened.
Because if she stopped now, they'd win.
And she wasn't about to let that happen.
break had come to an end.
Students slowly trickled back into their classrooms, their laughter and footsteps echoing down the corridors. But Su Nian wasn't among them.
She stood quietly in the corner of the washroom, anxiously scrubbing at the stain on her uniform. The pale fabric was still damp, her fingers trembling slightly from the cold water. She bit her lip, silently praying the mark would fade. But no matter how hard she tried, a faint shadow of it remained.
Meanwhile, the math teacher had already entered the classroom. He was early today. With chalk in hand, he began scribbling equations on the blackboard with quick, precise strokes, his back turned to the class.
Moments later, a soft knock broke the silence.
"Come in," the teacher said without turning.
The door creaked open, and Su Nian stepped in, her head bowed low.
"Why are you late?" His voice was stern, but not yet angry. "Where were you?"
She opened her mouth, but no words came out. Her fingers clutched the edge of her blazer, pulling it over the side of her uniform that was still wet and stained.
The teacher sighed. "Fine. Go to your seat."
She nodded, walking briskly to her place, keeping her eyes down and trying to shield the stain with her hand.
The teacher resumed the lesson. He pointed at a boy in the third row.
"You—solve this."
The boy stood up confidently but gave a completely incorrect answer. Laughter erupted across the room.
The teacher scowled. "Silence!" he barked. "Sit down if you don't know it!"
The boy sank into his chair, face red.
Then the teacher said, "Now—everyone, bring your homework notebooks to my desk."
There was a rustle of movement as students rose and formed a loose line toward the front. Su Nian rummaged through her bag in quiet panic. For a moment, she couldn't find her notebook—but then, with relief, she pulled it out and handed it in like everyone else.
The teacher sat down, flipping through the notebooks one by one, checking the assignments with his red pen. But suddenly—his pen froze. His eyes narrowed.
"What is this?" he muttered, frowning.
He flipped Su Nian's notebook around, reading the scrawled, inappropriate words scribbled at the bottom of her homework. His face darkened.
"Su Nian! Come with me. Now."
The class fell into whispers as she stood up, heart pounding. She followed him out of the room, each step feeling heavier than the last.
Inside the teacher's room, he threw the notebook down on the table.
"Care to explain this?"
She leaned forward to look. And the moment her eyes landed on the page, her breath caught.
Crude words. Ugly, vulgar phrases she'd never write. Words that mocked the teacher… and herself. Her legs felt weak.
"I—I didn't write this!" she said in a trembling voice. Her eyes were wide with shock, her hands visibly shaking. "I swear… I don't know who did that!"
Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision. She clenched her fists, trying not to cry. But the teacher had already made up his mind.
"I'm calling your parents for a meeting tomorrow. And as for today, you're to write a 1500-word apology letter—handwritten—and submit it before the final bell. Do you understand?"
She nodded silently, biting back her sobs.
"Good. Get back to class."
She returned with slow steps. Her shoes felt like blocks of stone. As she entered, everyone turned their heads—some in curiosity, others in amusement.
Wang Zixuan sat at his desk, a cruel smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. His eyes locked onto hers with a glint of mockery.
And in that moment, she knew. She knew it was him.
Her fists clenched at her sides, but she didn't say a word. She was too quiet, too introverted, too used to enduring everything in silence. But this time, something was different.
A strange chill crept into her chest. She felt it—not just anger, but something else.
Something cold.
Something sharp.
As she sat back down, her tear-stained eyes flickered not with sadness…
But with the quiet storm of someone who had just awakened.
And outside, a dark cloud passed over the sun, casting a faint shadow across her desk.
She didn't know it yet…
But this was only the beginning.