April 3rd – neither hot nor cold. The phoenix trees lining the school paths stood tall, their broad leaves lush and green. Students’ attire showed extremes – some in summer short-sleeve uniforms, others still in fall jackets. Only 66 days remained on the countdown.
Xu Si looked at his new report card. 598 points. The closest he’d ever been to 600. Looking at Jiang Qiang’s photo, he murmured: “Little Teacher, do you think I can reach above 600? Only sixty some days left.”
After a while, he added: “Whether I can or not, I have to try my best.”
…
April 20th. Xu Si broke 600 points for the first time. Seeing the numbers on his report card, he couldn’t help but smile. He desperately wanted school to end so he could share the good news.
In the office, a female teacher asked Fang Zixin: “Hey, your student Xu Si made it into the grade’s top 100. Wasn’t he doing poorly before?”
Fang Zixin recalled seeing the boy working alone during breaks, even during dinner. His progress wasn’t sudden but gradual over a long time. He’d watched him climb from just over 100 points to his current score.
“When someone has a goal and motivation, nothing is impossible,” he replied.
During evening study, Xu Si finished his last practice test. Ten minutes until dismissal. When he first started these tests, many problems were incomprehensible even after multiple readings. That’s when he truly felt the vast gap between himself and Jiang Qiang. Now he could solve nearly half.
Previously, students rushed out at the bell. Now many stayed until the doorman made them leave.
Xu Si shouldered his bag and left. He couldn’t wait to tell Jiang Qiang he’d done it.
At home, he put down his bag, hugged Yuan Yuan who came over, and messaged Jiang Qiang.
[Xu Si]: Got 610 points this time. [Xu Si]: I did it, Little Teacher.
She replied quickly.
Little Teacher BAE: Wonderful, wonderful. [Xu Si]: Can I save my reward until before the college entrance exam?
Jiang Qiang stared at this message, typed and deleted many responses, finally replying:
…
May 31st. The countdown entered single digits. Weather grew hotter. Xu Si had reached the school’s top ten.
The honor board still showed Jiang Qiang’s photo and name – a sweet, obedient girl in uniform smiling at the camera.
After lunch, Jiang Qiang felt severely nauseous. Seeing blood in the sink chilled her heart. Trembling, she wiped blood from her lips, rinsed her mouth, but couldn’t remove the metallic taste. More blood came up as she turned on the tap to wash it away.
Suddenly dizzy, she gripped the sink to stay standing. Her vision blurred as she slowly crouched down. Everything went dark despite her waving hand. Finally, she collapsed.
Three people entered to find her hospital bed empty. Calling “Qiaoqiao” brought no response. Auntie Liu found her unconscious in the bathroom, face and lips white. Tian Ling burst into tears.
The doctor came quickly, examined her thoroughly, then spoke gravely: “I must tell you something. Please prepare yourselves.”
Tian Ling nearly collapsed, supported by Liu and Jiang Zhien.
“The patient has three or four days at most. Whatever she wants to do, as long as it’s legal and moral, let her do it.”
“Doctor, isn’t there another way? We’ll pay anything.”
The doctor shook his head: “Nothing can be done. Organ failure has begun. Prolonging things would only cause suffering.”
After he left, Tian Ling broke down. She and Jiang Zhien had fought their whole lives. Though they’d made money, it couldn’t buy back Jiang Qiang’s health or lost time together.
“I failed Qiaoqiao,” Tian Ling sobbed uncontrollably.
“I’m at fault too,” Jiang Zhien said, eyes reddening.
Auntie Liu bit her lip: “I’ll cook. Qiaoqiao needs food when she wakes.”
She left, tears falling. The child she’d watched grow up – now the doctor said only two days remained. Such a good child – why was heaven so cruel, making one so young suffer so much? She’d rather it be herself lying there.
She remembered how Jiang Qiang feared pain as a child. Distracted while cooking, she cut her finger. Stuffing it in her mouth, tears wouldn’t stop. She bandaged it hastily, dried her tears, forcing herself to focus on one thought: Qiaoqiao needs food when she awakes.
That day, no one could eat. Auntie Liu gently cleaned Jiang Qiang’s face with a warm towel. Her eyelashes fluttered.
She struggled to open her eyes, then coughed violently.
“Qiaoqiao.”
Everything hurt. She tried to sit up but had no strength. She’d heard the doctor but couldn’t open her heavy eyes. Later she lost consciousness completely.
Auntie Liu held back tears: “Eat something, Qiaoqiao.”
She took one bite.
That evening, she read Fang Zixin’s message about June 6th graduation photos. They’d ordered her uniform in advance.
June 6th wasn’t far off.
But she didn’t have many days left either.
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