Chapter 29: Sleepwalking Part 1

Tan Jing didn’t sleep well that night.

He wasn’t sure if it was because he’d run into Lu Xinshu, but he dreamed of the middle school days he least wanted to remember.

At Old Zhang’s Noodle Shop, Tan Jing suddenly noticed that the Polaroid photo of him and He Siheng on the wall was gone.

He immediately asked the boss if it had been put away because there were too many photos.

“It wasn’t put away,” the boss said. “Maybe some bratty kid took it. Next time, you and little He can take a new one. Yesterday, little He came with his friend—how come you didn’t join them?”

Came with his friend.

Tan Jing’s gaze swept over the wall. Was it a surprise or expected? In another spot, he saw a new Polaroid photo.

The boy holding the camera was probably He Siheng’s new friend.

Tan Jing withdrew his gaze and let out a light scoff.

Completely replaced, huh.

Did he hate him so much that he didn’t even want to leave a single photo behind?

The irritation building in his chest was about to snap, but he had no way to go confront He Siheng.

On the day He Siheng had wanted to cut ties with him, the look of disgust in his eyes was like a thorn that pierced a hole in his heart. His already scant confidence drained away bit by bit because of it.

He didn’t dare ask, didn’t dare confirm the reason He Siheng wanted to end their friendship.

He was afraid of hearing those words from He Siheng’s mouth: I found out your secret—you like me? Disgusting.

Being a coward still left him a sliver of hope.

Tan Jing sometimes envied He Siheng.

He Siheng liked Tan Wan and often said so openly. Even if Tan Wan didn’t return his feelings, at least she didn’t hate him or push him away.

But he was different. He knew He Siheng’s personality too well.

The price of failure would be too high for him.

He just hadn’t expected that the missing photo would eventually circle back to him.

The screech of brakes shattered the dream, turning the scene into a hospital.

A boy in faded, washed-out canvas shoes stood timidly by his hospital bed, apologizing shrinkingly. “S-Sorry, I didn’t mean to hit you. I-I didn’t sleep well last night, so I was a bit distracted while riding today. Really, really sorry…”

Compared to Tan Jing’s broken bone, the boy only had some scrapes, but his face was deathly pale with heavy dark circles under his eyes, full of cowardice.

Fate’s cruel coincidence—Tan Jing recognized him.

The impoverished student at South Middle School who survived on scholarships and aid, always delivering takeout for his family in his spare time. He Siheng’s new best friend.

The boy from that photo.

“You can go,” Tan Jing said wearily, closing his eyes. “I won’t hold you responsible. Just be more careful next time.”

“Thank you, thank you!” Lu Xinshu immediately broke into a grateful smile, bowing repeatedly and thanking him nonstop.

The footsteps left but then returned. Lu Xinshu, hesitating, asked, “Classmate, do you know He Siheng?”

Tan Jing lifted his eyelids. “Something else?”

Lu Xinshu’s heart skipped at that glance, and he instinctively stepped back half a pace, swallowing nervously. “S-Sorry, you just looked familiar.”

He hurriedly pulled a photo from his backpack and handed it to Tan Jing. “Is this you in the photo? It was originally at a noodle shop. Little Heng wanted to throw it away. I thought it was old and it’d be a shame to lose it, so I secretly kept it.”

Little Heng wanted to throw it away.

Though he’d long guessed the reason for the photo’s disappearance, hearing it from an unrelated person’s mouth was truly ironic.

Tan Jing looked at him expressionlessly, his eyes cold. “Leave the photo. You can go.”

Lu Xinshu tremblingly handed over the photo and cautiously added, “Can you not tell Little Heng about today…?”

Tan Jing paused.

Lu Xinshu pleaded pitifully, “Little Heng’s birthday is coming up soon. I’ve been working hard lately to buy him a gift. If he finds out I got into an accident for him—and hit you—I…”

Tan Jing cut him off. “We’re not in touch anymore.”

The corner of the photo crumpled under his fingers, his knuckles whitening.

Tan Jing suppressed the sourness in his heart and said lowly, “Just go.”

After more than a week in the hospital, Tan Jing insisted on checking out early and dragged his casted leg home.

The day he was discharged was He Siheng’s birthday.

Tan Jing leaned on crutches by his bedroom window, watching the brightly lit house across the street.

The front door opened, and He Siheng saw off the friends who’d come for the birthday party at the entryway, his smile bright as he bid them goodbye one by one.

When it was Lu Xinshu’s turn, Lu Xinshu suddenly opened his arms and hugged him.

He Siheng froze for a moment, then quickly pushed him away. “What’re you doing? So mushy?”

His words sounded disgusted, but his face showed no revulsion.

He was especially lenient with Lu Xinshu.

Tan Jing watched him laughing and scolding as he sent Lu Xinshu off, then tossed aside his crutches and opened the window.

The sound drew the attention of the boy at the entryway across the street. He Siheng looked over and, upon seeing him, the smile on his face vanished instantly.

Tan Jing opened his mouth, hesitating to speak.

But the boy at the entryway didn’t linger. He turned and went back inside.

Perhaps because it was deep winter, the wind that night was bone-chilling, cutting like knives on his face.

Tan Jing stood by the window for a long time before finally closing it.

The cold wind was shut outside, but the room remained icy.

He spent a long winter alone.

This guy—could he really be troubled by some romance issue?

A black-hearted bastard like him, actually getting played? Who’s that badass?