ATLAS TRANSLATES

Sometimes, on very rare occasions, Tao Zhi would feel that Jiang Qi Huai revealed a gentleness that was completely different from, and even contradictory to, his usual personality.

Ji Fan and the others were attacking the hotpot of beef like wild animals. Fu Xi Ling had already finished eating and was playing on her phone. No one noticed their movements or heard them talking.

Tao Zhi’s breath caught, and she stared at him dumbly as their cups collided, touching together almost soundlessly. The paper cups did what she didn’t have the courage to do.

And it was Jiang Qi Huai who initiated it.

She hadn’t expected Jiang Qi Huai to actively do or say anything. After all, she was the one who had pursued him, and given his personality, Tao Zhi had mentally prepared herself that he might not be very proactive, that she would need to take the lead.

Tao Zhi had already planned it out.

After the final exams were over, she would take the initiative to hold his hand.

Jiang Qi Huai had already withdrawn his hand holding the cup, but Tao Zhi’s gaze still followed it. She stared fixedly at the cup’s rim, not blinking.

Jiang Qi Huai noticed her stare and paused with the cup: “What are you looking at?”

Tao Zhi’s gaze remained fixed on it as she raised her hand, pointing with her index finger, and said softly: “Aren’t you going to drink?”

The boy’s eyelid twitched at her words.

Tao Zhi looked away, her ears burning, and mumbled: “If you’re not going to drink, that’s fine too, it’s nothing.”

Jiang Qi Huai stared at her bright red ear tips for a moment, then smiled.

He raised his hand and lightly poked her forehead with his index finger: “If I drink from it, are you going to turn red up to here?”

With people all around the table, his gesture had an undisguised intimacy.

Although he would sometimes tap her head even before they had defined their relationship, now that their relationship had changed, Tao Zhi actually became more nervous.

She very nervously pulled his fingertip down.

The little girl’s soft warm palm only held his fingertip, gently pulling it down under the table, squeezing it playfully for just a few seconds before letting go. Then she picked up her chopsticks, pretending nothing had happened and continued nibbling on her cabbage stalk.

Jiang Qi Huai’s hand hovered under the table for several seconds, then his thumb slowly rubbed the spot on his fingertip where she had held it.

Though her grip hadn’t been strong, his fingertip felt somewhat numb.

Beside them, Fu Xi Ling turned her head away, Ji Fan rolled his eyes, and Jiang Zheng Xun silently moved his gaze back to the beef in the pot. The three of them very tacitly pretended to be blind in perfect unison.

They hadn’t seen anything.

They definitely hadn’t noticed the shameless interaction between these two just now.

Only the two idiots Zhao Ming Qi and Li Shuang Jiang were vigorously wielding their chopsticks, single-mindedly fighting over the beef.

Jiang Zheng Xun sighed, thinking sometimes it was really good to be an idiot – you didn’t have to eat dog food after getting full on hotpot.

The hotpot meal lasted until almost eight o’clock. Nothing was left in the electric cooker except some soup base. Everyone began cleaning up, each taking their assigned duties to destroy the evidence.

Fu Xi Ling wiped the blackboard, Li Shuang Jiang took down the string lights, and Zhao Ming Qi carried the pot to dump the remaining hotpot soup in the toilet.

After arranging the tables and chairs and taking down the snowflakes, the classroom returned to its original state, as if their Christmas revelry had just been a figment of their imagination.

Li Shuang Jiang patted his full belly, still feeling a bit regretful: “We should have taken some photos.”

“I did take some,” said Fu Xi Ling.

Li Shuang Jiang’s eyes lit up: “Then send them to the small group chat tonight.”

Fu Xi Ling nodded: “I’ll send them when I get home, after I adjust the color.”

After all the activity, everyone was a bit tired, so they sat on the desks chatting idly for a while.

The second-year teaching building was empty at this time. Suddenly, footsteps echoed in the corridor. Zhao Ming Qi, with his sharp ears, heard it first and raised his hand. Li Shuang Jiang immediately shut up.

The security guard was humming a song, walking slowly from the stairwell, checking if any students were still in the school.

Tao Zhi reacted first, collapsing boneless and quickly diving under the desk. Zhao Ming Qi instantly ran to the door and slapped the light off.

The classroom suddenly went dark.

In the pitch darkness, Jiang Qi Huai felt someone suddenly tug hard on his school uniform, pulling him down. He slid downward with the force of gravity.

He lowered his eyes.

In the moonlight, the girl’s dark eyes were bright. He couldn’t make out her expression, but she was looking at him.

Jiang Qi Huai understood and obediently ducked down too.

In the row in front of them, Li Shuang Jiang was lying flat on the chair. Fu Xi Ling was still slowly panicking when Ji Fan grabbed her neck and pulled her down to crouch. Zhao Ming Qi slipped into the shadowy corner by the door.

The security guard uncle hummed an off-key old song, his footsteps getting closer until he reached Class 1’s door.

The footsteps suddenly stopped.

Everyone held their breath.

“Why do I smell hotpot…” Outside the classroom, the security guard uncle muttered puzzledly at the door. He poked his head in for a look, saw nothing unusual, and continued walking.

The group held their breath, crouching under the desks and chairs. Tao Zhi’s hand clutched Jiang Qi Huai’s uniform. With the desk frame between them, their eyes gradually adjusted to the darkness, and the girl’s fair face became clear in the moonlight.

The security guard uncle’s footsteps grew fainter until they could no longer be heard.

Tao Zhi looked at him, her eyes curving meaningfully as she blinked at him once.

Jiang Qi Huai froze for a moment.

The next second, her fingers suddenly released his uniform, sliding down his sleeve to directly grab his hand. She stood up, pushing the chair back.

The tables and chairs clattered as they were bumped, but Tao Zhi paid no attention, holding his hand as she turned and ran out of the classroom.

The corridor lights were off too, with moonlight streaming in through the windows like silver sand. Her steps were light and quick like an agile cat as she flew through the corridor, down the stairs, and out the main door of the teaching building.

She leaned against a pillar by the door, laughing while taking small breaths: “If we didn’t get out before the security guard, he would have locked the main gate soon.”

Jiang Qi Huai stood beside her without speaking, only looking down at their clasped hands.

Her hand was tiny, barely covering half his palm. Where their palms touched was warm and slightly damp – he wasn’t sure whose sweat it was.

Tao Zhi followed his gaze downward, nervousness and shyness hitting her belatedly.

She licked her lips and said with forced composure: “I was originally planning to… hold hands after I met my target in the final exams, as a reward for myself. Since this is early, just consider it an advance.”

Jiang Qi Huai didn’t move, maintaining his expressionless face.

Probably… he didn’t like it.

Tao Zhi lowered her eyes silently. She tried hard to suppress the slight sadness and disappointment in her heart as she slowly, bit by bit, loosened her grip, preparing to withdraw her hand.

The cool temperature left her palm as she was about to pull back, but the next second, Jiang Qi Huai suddenly raised his hand and caught hers again.

The boy’s hand was a whole size larger than hers, his long fingers interlocking from above, effortlessly enveloping her entire hand.

Tao Zhi looked up in surprise.

Jiang Qi Huai held her hand, his fingers moving slightly, fingertips gently brushing her hand’s back in an intimate, ambiguous gesture.

“It’s already yours, so what advance are you talking about?” his voice was calm.

Tao Zhi suppressed her urge to smile: “Oh.”

“What do you mean ‘oh’?”

“I just wanted to say ‘oh’,” Tao Zhi pressed her lips together, “Why are you like this? Can’t I even acknowledge what you said?”

Jiang Qi Huai raised his eyes: “I don’t know who it was just now who ran away after already holding hands?”

In late December, a thin layer of snow covered the ground. Tao Zhi hadn’t felt it much when they first came out, but after staying outside for a while, she felt cold. She couldn’t help but shrink her neck, mumbling: “Well, I thought you didn’t like this.”

Jiang Qi Huai glanced at her and led her back inside.

Tao Zhi followed him step by step: “Where are you going?”

“Inside,” said Jiang Qi Huai, “to wait for Ji Fan to bring down your coat.”

The first-floor hall of the teaching building was empty and dim. Award lists from the recent Olympics and various commendation certificates hung on the glass display walls on both sides. Tao Zhi raised her head and saw his name.

Jiang Qi Huai, Class 1, Grade 2, First Prize in National Mathematics Olympiad.

First Experimental High School barely squeezed into the top three in the capital, and though they had competition classes in earlier years, they had stopped those now. They posed no threat compared to the national mathematics competition powerhouses, with neighboring Affiliated High School and Huai City First High School sweeping almost all the first prizes every year.

Jiang Qi Huai was the first.

Teacher Wang had specially held a class meeting for this, and Vice Principal Wang wanted to write him into every weekly flag-raising ceremony speech to inspire the masses.

Tao Zhi stared at that name for a long time, lost in thought.

Gradually, Ji Fan’s voice came from the stairwell. It seemed the security guard had gone upstairs. As the group came down talking and carrying their things, Tao Zhi snapped back to reality, tugged her hand away, and then guiltily hid it behind her back.

The girl’s soft warm hand slipped away, leaving Jiang Qi Huai’s palm empty.

He raised his eyebrows questioningly: “Underground romance?”

Tao Zhi looked at him seriously without speaking.

She always had these small, strange concerns and insistences.

Jiang Qi Huai sighed, somewhat helplessly: “Alright then.”

The two maintained about half a meter’s distance, neither speaking.

Until the voices from the stairwell gradually became clearer, mixed with footsteps and the laughter of the boys, Jiang Qi Huai suddenly spoke: “I don’t dislike it.”

Tao Zhi turned her head: “What?”

He didn’t look at her, his gaze vaguely directed at some point in the empty hall ahead.

“I don’t dislike you being like this,” his voice was calm, “I told you before, whatever you want to do, just do it.”

She was good just like this – straightforward and decisive.

When she wanted something, she grabbed it; when she wanted to achieve something, she worked hard; when she wanted to chase something, she never stopped.

Jiang Qi Huai suddenly realized, maybe it was because of this.

Maybe it was because of this that even though he knew he couldn’t provide her with soil rich enough in nutrients, he still couldn’t bear to let go of her fingertips that desperately reached toward him.

She always seemed able to burst forth with amazing and dazzling light at any moment, carrying an attraction powerful enough to steal all his reason, making the person treading hesitantly in the darkness unable to resist greedily, insatiably drawing closer.

Like the sun.

No one discovered what outrageous things some people had done in the classroom the night before. After one night, the hotpot smell dissipated, and the next day classes resumed as usual.

Christmas was just a few days from New Year’s. Since Tao Zhi had thoroughly enjoyed herself the previous night, she didn’t cause any more trouble and studied seriously.

She was so serious that even Teacher Wang felt uncomfortable and specially teased her during class: “Class monitor? New Year’s is coming up soon, aren’t you planning anything?”

Tao Zhi didn’t even blink, saying solemnly: “A student’s most important task is studying. Studies are more important than anything – how can New Year’s compare to math problems?”

Teacher Wang didn’t buy her act, snorting with laughter, but still wanted to see how long this bunch of monkeys could stay quiet when gathered together.

And Tao Zhi really didn’t cause any more trouble.

Although Jiang Qi Huai had told her not to obsess over grades, and they were now in an impure work relationship, this matter didn’t give Tao Zhi the sense of relief she had imagined.

In Tao Zhi’s view, catching him and catching up to his footsteps weren’t contradictory – they could proceed simultaneously.

She still wanted to ride on his head.

On New Year’s Eve, Jiang Qi Huai returned home early after school.

Grandpa Jiang had already prepared dinner, with several dishes on the table and a small rice cooker on the side, though the rice hadn’t been served yet.

The old man sat alone in the living room, motionless before a chess board, his gaze empty as he stared at a certain piece, not noticing his return.

Jiang Qi Huai turned and closed the door.

The security door made a soft sound, interrupting the old man’s thoughts. He looked up, his gaze empty.

A few seconds later, he came back to himself, his expression softening: “Ah Huai is back.”

Jiang Qi Huai made an “mm” sound and entered the living room without asking more.

He took off his backpack and hung up his coat, washed his hands, came out and went to the kitchen, brought out bowls and chopsticks, and served the rice.

Grandpa Jiang closed his eyes briefly before getting up and sitting at the dining table: “Didn’t expect you to come back so early today. I stewed a chicken, don’t know if it’s ready yet.”

Jiang Qi Huai put the rice in front of him and turned back to the kitchen: “I’ll go check.”

The clay pot was simmering on low heat on the gas stove, the rich aroma of chicken soup filling the air. Jiang Qi Huai lifted the lid and poked it with chopsticks to confirm it was done, then took a large porcelain bowl to serve it.

He turned and left the kitchen. Grandpa Jiang sat at the table, chopsticks untouched, smiling as he watched him: “Was school fun today?”

Jiang Qi Huai sat across from him: “No different than usual.”

Grandpa Jiang continued smiling: “No different even with little Tao there?”

Jiang Qi Huai fell silent.

Grandpa Jiang peered at him: “I see this girl likes you quite a lot, and she has a good personality. Do you have any feelings for her?”

Though he asked this, having watched Jiang Qi Huai grow up, Grandpa Jiang knew the boy’s personality better than anyone.

Remembering that she liked chicken wings and strawberries, that the little girl was a bit careless and might suddenly show up any day – though Jiang Qi Huai never said anything, since last time, the fridge had always kept a big bag of chicken wings in stock.

Grandpa Jiang sighed: “This girl’s family background seems quite good too.”

Although Tao Zhi had never put on airs in her few visits, making him quite happy, children raised in privilege couldn’t hide that natural dignity.

The boy’s chopsticks paused.

Grandpa Jiang looked at him, wanting to speak but holding back.

Some things didn’t need to be said.

This grandson of his knew better than anyone.

He should have been heaven’s chosen one, with both talent and pride – he shouldn’t have been born into such a family.

They ate dinner in silence, with Grandpa Jiang trying to speak several times but swallowing his words. Until they finished eating.

Jiang Qi Huai put down his chopsticks and quietly waited for him to speak.

The old man’s somewhat clouded eyes looked at him: “You…”

He paused, still unable to say those two words.

For Jiang Qi Huai, that person probably didn’t count as his father.

“He’s been released,” Grandpa Jiang said slowly.

Jiang Qi Huai’s lips tensed for an instant as he suddenly looked up: “Did he come looking for you?”

“No,” Grandpa Jiang quickly said, “He doesn’t know where we live now. They say he went back to our hometown and is asking around.”

The boy’s lips pressed into a straight line, his eyes dark and turbulent with unconcealed cold fury: “If he dares to harass you even once more, I’ll make sure he can never show his face again for the rest of his life.”