Chapter 24

Mao Xiaotong, 12 years old this year, had just started the sixth grade of primary school, and her academic performance was not ideal.

But her artistic talent was quite good; she had passed the Grade 5 piano exam and started learning Latin dance, making her a little beauty who could sing and dance among her peers.

This afternoon, as soon as she arrived at school, she saw a group of female classmates gathered together, chattering, not knowing what they were talking about so excitedly.

None of my business, she thought.

Xiaotong didn't have a good relationship with the girls in the class because she had a dull personality and didn't like to talk, and she had decided early on to go to a dance school instead of a normal middle school, so she didn't have much in common with her peers.

Sitting at her seat without looking sideways, she let her side hair hang down to block her face and started to zone out.

Her deskmate suddenly poked her: "Xiaotong, didn't you buy today's *Sprout*?"

"Hmm?" She didn't understand.

"Fang Xinghe!" her deskmate gestured exaggeratedly, "That super handsome cover from the last issue! Haven't you seen it?"

"Oh, oh!"

She remembered, but still didn't understand what this had to do with her: "So? What about it?"

"His essay was published, it's super amazing!"

"???"

What does that have to do with me?

She felt a bit impatient inside, but didn't show it, just nodded: "Oh, oh, that is indeed quite amazing."

"Right, right?" Her deskmate grinned foolishly and recommended it to her with some persistence, "Hey? Don't you want to take a look?"

"I didn't buy it."

"It doesn't matter, you can borrow mine!"

No, is it really necessary?

And why must I read some essay? Just because the young writer you like is particularly handsome?

Xiaotong was speechless inside; she didn't care at all about whether someone was handsome or not, and the same went for middle school essays.

But before she could refuse, her deskmate shoved the magazine over, her face full of expectation.

"Take a look! Fang Xinghe is really handsome, cool, and talented!"

"Oh, oh, okay, okay."

She wasn't completely unable to refuse, but felt that there was no need to refuse such a small matter.

Anyway, class was boring, so she might as well take a look.

But she didn't specifically look for Fang Xinghe's article; she just opened the book, started reading from the beginning, flipping page by page, glancing twice at what interested her and quickly skipping what didn't.

Until page 22, the title of that article attracted her immediately, truly, thoroughly, stirring some emotion deep in her heart.

My fate should be decided by me?

It feels so right...

She shifted her bottom, lay flat on the desk, and became focused.

Then, she immersed herself from the very first sentence.

The word "infection" gave her an intuitive feeling of being touched.

And then that long, undivided sentence, "Only the people who constitute civilization and the various conscious behaviors, emotions, and desires born from people will carve, shape, and even play with and destroy the young individuals in civilization," she read it in a daze, but her heart trembled violently.

"Young individual" seemed to be the keyword of her life, instantly opening some switch.

She subconsciously clenched her fists.

None of her classmates knew that her biological father was a drug addict who fought with her mother all year round, acting like a beast when he had an episode, and even when she was very young, he was crazy enough to throw her into a trash can.

Why?

Just because he couldn't get money from her mother to buy drugs.

It was very cold that day, she was very scared, and she cried very loudly.

Maybe heaven didn't forsake her; her mother happened to close her stall early, heard the already weak crying as she passed by, and picked her back up from the trash heap.

That very night, a little girl gently died, and what lived again was a sensible, cautious, and rarely crying new life.

Now she no longer remembered the specific circumstances, but that coldness and fear deep in her bones still reminded her from time to time—Mao Xiaotong, you are not a complete child.

So, what a "bad infection process" looked like, and what it was like to be "bitten" by someone, she knew all too well.

Every word of Fang Xinghe seemed to be written directly into her heart.

The girl who used to hate studying and didn't like reading, at this moment, miraculously completed a resonance with the text.

"Xiaotong? Xiaotong?!"

Her deskmate pushed Mao Xiaotong, who was immersed in out-of-control emotions, and asked timidly and worriedly: "What's wrong with you?"

"No, nothing..."

Only when the answer came out did she realize the hoarseness of her voice.

And then she reached out to wipe, only to find the hot tears still on her cheeks.

"I'm just... just... too moved."

Sniffing hard, Mao Xiaotong buried her head again and choked out: "Don't mind me, let me finish reading."

"Oh..."

Her deskmate scratched her head in confusion, thinking: Fang Xinghe's article is good, but is it that moving? Why do I only feel it's very amazing?

She didn't understand, but didn't disturb her again, letting Mao Xiaotong immerse herself in greedy reading.

"What happens in childhood is always the most tragic; childhood deficiency is a disease that takes a lifetime to treat, but no one can guarantee it can be cured..."

Yes, it can't be cured.

"What kind of family we are born into, what kind of environment we grow up in, what kind of education we receive, what kind of gaps we are bitten into—before we are 18, we can't decide anything..."

That's right, what can I do?

"When you find that you've been bitten by someone, don't panic first; look carefully at where you were bitten, how big the wound is, then ponder why, and then make a vow to yourself—from now on, I will never let this happen again..."

Yes! So right!

Indeed, I should make a vow to myself: never let that person hurt me and my mother again!

"Now I am very well, living arduously but brilliantly. I hope you are the same, not tamed, not infected, not yielding to fate, and actively becoming the you that you most want to be..."

Wow, so good!

Really, if that can be done, then there is no future more beautiful than this.

I want to be like this too, I want to be a strong and brilliant me!

Mao Xiaotong seemed to be looking in a mirror; the one facing the mirror was herself, but inside the mirror was Fang Xinghe.

There was a great power that allowed her to see herself clearly through Fang Xinghe, and to draw courage and fighting spirit from that wild declaration at the end.

This was a warmth she hadn't felt for a long time—unique, alternative, but real and true.

"How is it?"

Her deskmate suddenly bumped her lightly, her clean and innocent eyes full of pride: "Is he amazing?"

"Hmm." Mao Xiaotong sniffed and nodded hard, "So amazing!"

"Hehehehe..."

The little girl laughed happily, as if she possessed the whole world.

Mao Xiaotong solemnly took out 5 yuan, bought this magazine stained with tears, and then carefully tucked it into her schoolbag.

After school, she cut out the cover and pasted it on the wall next to her bed, where she could see it as soon as she turned her head.

Although she didn't understand the meaning of chasing stars, she had already pasted Fang Xinghe in her heart.

The night grew deep and heavy.

Mao Xiaotong had a dream, dreaming that she fell into an absurd and terrifying world.

There, the earth was dry and barren, the air was filled with scarlet ashes, and many shadowy figures like mummified corpses stood in the distance, looking up at the sky in a daze.

Mao Xiaotong followed suit and looked up, her pupils shrinking—where was there any sky? That was clearly a flesh-and-blood canopy covered in cuts!

That canopy was beating uneasily like a heart.

Every expansion and contraction would tear the wound, thereby raining down a shower of blood, slapping down from the sky.

The mummified corpses let out shrill screams, seemingly in pain or anger, endless and ceaseless.

Mao Xiaotong hid back in her original place, shivering.

It was a huge and gloomy trash can, very terrifying, but she had no choice, so she pulled all the debris beside her, covered herself, and then bit her lip tightly, curling up in the corner and trembling.

She didn't know how much time had passed; she was getting colder and more afraid.

Fear was like an invisible rope, tightly strangling the little girl's throat.

Suffocation, pain, despair...

Just when she felt she couldn't bear it anymore, suddenly, the wailing stopped abruptly, and the blood rain above her head stopped inexplicably.

She looked up in a daze, and saw that in that bloody terror, there was a pair of hands gently touching the wound of the sky.

The fingertips brushed lightly over the torn wound, and the restless flesh immediately calmed down, like a little beast soothed by a warm spring breeze.

Who is that?!

The girl tried hard to widen her eyes.

However, the owner of those hands could not be seen clearly; sometimes it seemed to be her mother, sometimes it seemed to be a red-haired youth, and sometimes it seemed to be herself when she grew up.

Mao Xiaotong watched foolishly, her fear gradually subsiding, her emotions slowly stabilizing, but something in the bottom of her heart was about to burst out.

Huff, huff, huff...

The breathing became heavier and heavier, courage grew inch by inch, and she suddenly gritted her teeth, slammed open the debris, climbed onto the opening of the trash can, and jumped!

Bang!

She fell heavily to the ground, but ignoring the pain, she climbed up the mountain of trash in front of her with hands and feet.

Who are you exactly?

Let me see clearly!

The girl waded through the filth and climbed desperately, her small figure looming in the trash, struggling hard in the ashes.

The perspective pulled up; tens of thousands of figures stepped forward and ran at the same time, climbing mountains when they encountered them, wading through water when they encountered it.

The corpses crossed the border, terrifyingly.

The person in the sky suddenly stopped moving and slowly looked down.

Mao Xiaotong held her breath, looking forward with expectation... but at the last moment, she woke up with a start.

Sitting up from the bed, Xiaotong breathed rapidly for a while, suddenly remembered something, turned her head sharply, and finally saw the red-haired youth's face clearly in the moonlight.

The cold moonlight spilled onto that face, both bright and magnificent.

The girl was stunned for a while, then suddenly burst into tears, crying more aggrievedly, more happily, and more relievedly.

Playing with words is not a great thing, but tonight, and in the many days and nights that followed, Fang Xinghe's empathetic words warmed and encouraged one child after another who had been bitten...