Chapter Eighty-Six: I Will Wait for You in Spring

“Damn it! Anyone who dares lay a hand on her is asking for trouble! I’m going to sort him out right now!” Ren Jiaxuan shouted as he stormed out of the broadcasting class. Li Zhe grabbed him from behind, hauled him back inside, and shut the door.

“Yanyan protects Xu Cheng so fiercely. If you go after him now, won’t she blow up at you?” he said, trying to calm him down.

Ren Jiaxuan shook off his hand in irritation and leaned against a desk, scowling. “That Dong Yanyan is going too far. If I don’t take care of her, I’m not her man!”

“Of course you aren’t. You’re not even official yet.” Li Zhe laughed, entirely unconcerned. “If you want to take care of someone, catch up to her first.”

At that, Ren Jiaxuan deflated like a punctured ball. “I’m close. Once her birthday passes, it’ll be fine. Hey, why does her birthday come so early?”

“I really don’t get what’s so great about her that you had to fall for her. She’s not especially pretty, she’s not tall, and her temper is awful. Fine, even if her temper is bad, she’s always flirting with this one and that one for no reason, and she won’t even let you touch her. And you can still put up with that!” He Jingxuan said coolly from the side.

“Why don’t you just say he has peculiar taste?” Dong Yanyan said as she slipped in from the front row, smiling at He Jingxuan. “Classmate, speaking ill of people behind their backs is bad behavior.”

He Jingxuan jumped, then glared at her indignantly. “What are you doing here?”

Dong Yanyan smiled pleasantly. “Teacher Ma brought us here. We’re here to see how much we’ve learned from auditing your class this past half year.” She glanced at Ren Jiaxuan, then went on, “And you don’t need to stir things up. Do you think he doesn’t already know what kind of person I am? I’m just nosy, I like handsome guys, and I like acting shameless. So what?”

Ren Jiaxuan put an arm around her shoulders and smiled warmly. “Of course I know. I figure your grand ambition is to become the big sister of the broadcasting class. Anything you need help with, just say the word. If I don’t help you, who will?” As he spoke, he lightly kissed her cheek.

Dong Yanyan froze.

It was as though all the blood in her body rushed to her face, scorching hot. She had never imagined he would kiss her, and in front of so many people. Suddenly the whole world felt unreal, surely an illusion, because even his expression seemed surprised. And yet the sensation had been so vivid: his lips, the soft but firm touch, the faint warmth of his breath. So real.

She sat there dazed and wordless. In a blur, Ren Jiaxuan gave a dry laugh and nudged her. “Hey, class is starting!”

“Oh!” she answered woodenly and found a seat.

Teacher Ma stepped up to the podium and called for class to begin. Dong Yanyan stood with the others, only coming back to herself when Zhang Dawei tugged her arm.

“I thought you were brave. One little kiss and you’re terrified? Your face is red as a tomato,” Zhang Dawei whispered, amused.

Dong Yanyan snapped her head toward him, glaring coldly. “Classmate, you can eat anything you want, but you can’t say anything you want. You saw nothing just now. Understand?”

“If you want me to pretend I saw nothing, that’s fine. Unless you let me kiss you too,” Zhang Dawei said with a grin.

“No way! I don’t like being teased!” Dong Yanyan declared righteously, shooting him a fierce white-eyed look.

The lesson was still impromptu performance. The students formed pairs or groups on their own and performed a ten-minute sketch of any theme they liked.

It was really just a chance for everyone to show what they could do.

At first Dong Yanyan thought broadcasting majors really didn’t need to study this, but later she found the class rather fun. It trained one’s ability to react on the spot. She had heard the production class had the same course too, which was a pity; if the science students had it as well, she wouldn’t have needed to come here and audit it.

The teacher had everyone push their desks into a circle, leaving an open space in the middle of the room, then called names at random. Whoever was called went up to perform. Watching everyone so eager to try, Dong Yanyan turned to Zhang Dawei and asked, “What do you usually perform?”

“A lot of things. Scenes from Romeo and Juliet, Butterfly Lovers, Dream of the Red Chamber, The West Chamber—anything, really. As long as it can be acted and sung.” Zhang Dawei smiled. “You pick what we do. I’ll go along with you.”

“Huh? Why didn’t the teacher tell me in advance? I wasn’t prepared at all.” Dong Yanyan rubbed her forehead. “How about we do The Return of the Condor Heroes? I don’t know how to sing anything else, but popular songs are fine.”

Zhang Dawei looked surprised, then nodded. “All right. Let’s quickly work out the lines. Which part do you know best?”

That did not stump Dong Yanyan. She had watched The Return of the Condor Heroes so many times that she almost knew the plot by heart. “Then let’s do the reunion sixteen years later. It should be just right for ten minutes. We can add two songs and that’ll be perfect!”

The two of them pieced together the dialogue from memory, then picked two songs: Liu Dehua’s “Forever and Ever,” for Yang Guo, and Yang Yuying’s “I Wait for You in Spring,” for Xiaolongnu. Dong Yanyan even taught Zhang Dawei a couple of lines so he could sing the finale with her.

When it came time to perform, Dong Yanyan was still a little nervous. Fortunately, Zhang Dawei went on first, and most of the lines belonged to him, so she could calmly gather her emotions beneath the stage, waiting for Yang Guo to leap down.

On the seventh day of the third month, in the setting sun, the Divine Condor Hero appeared in the night wind, his face full of sorrow and desolation, his expression lonely and forlorn.

Yang Guo sang: “Which person, which pair of eyes, does not need the comfort of love? Which heart, which affection, does not long to hold hands until tomorrow? If love is like flowers blooming and withering, then in the end it is only a vast sea turning to fields. Do not ask me how one reaches forever... I cannot see, I cannot hear the promise of eternity; all I can see, all I can hear, is the lingering tenderness we once had...”

Yang Guo, in monologue: “Ten years of life and death, both blurred and separate; without thought, it is hard to forget. A lone grave a thousand miles away, with nowhere to speak of this sorrow. Even if we should meet again, you would not know me—dust on my face, frost in my hair! Aunt, I have waited sixteen years for you! ‘We meet here in sixteen years! Do not miss the appointment, do not break your word!’ Those are the words you carved with your own hand—how could you fail to keep your promise?!”

He roared and paced in anguish.

“This Heartbreak Cliff was where we were once parted forever in life and death. In these sixteen years, have you truly not been lonely? ... Aunt, I have come to find you!”

Yang Guo stamped down, leaped from the podium, and after a flurry of wild movement landed firmly on the ground. Before him, the bleak vista unexpectedly gave way to a bright and beautiful scene. He walked on and saw a little wooden hut. Pushing open the door, he trembled all over.

The furnishings inside were exactly the same as those in the ancient tomb. He was stunned, then filled with melancholy.

Xiaolongnu entered, singing: “A faint longing, the faint fragrance of lilac; quietly drifting away, the quiet passage of time. Where the past has passed, beauty becomes wistful sorrow. Just like that year, that month, the stars filling the sky...”

She stepped forward and gently stroked his head—Dong Yanyan had to rise on tiptoe just to reach it—and asked softly, “Guo’er, what has made you unhappy?”

Yang Guo turned around, astonished and delighted. The two gazed at each other for a long moment, then embraced.

Yang Guo, looking deeply at Xiaolongnu: “Aunt, your face has not changed at all, but I have grown old.”

Xiaolongnu, looking at him with both sorrow and relief, touched his cheek with her right hand and smiled faintly. “You have not grown old. My Guo’er has simply grown up... Guo’er!”

Yang Guo: “Aunt!”

Xiaolongnu: “Guo’er!”

Yang Guo: “Aunt!”

Xiaolongnu: “Guo’er!”

Yang Guo: “...Long’er!”

Xiaolongnu sang: “I wait for you in spring, a promise beyond mountains and years; when the flowers bloom again, I will be with you, guarding our one and only truth between heaven and earth. This is the most beautiful meeting between us...”

The final line was sung together, and it ended. Curtain call.

When she returned to her seat, Dong Yanyan stole a glance at Ren Jiaxuan and found that he was looking at her too. A little flustered, she quickly looked away and sat up straight.

Zhang Dawei smiled. “You really wanted to show off in front of him that badly?”

Dong Yanyan did not deny it. “Of course. Who wouldn’t want to show their best side in front of the person they like? Right, Guo’er?”

Zhang Dawei’s face went dark. Not far away, Du Jingxuan secretly laughed to herself. “Dawei, why aren’t you calling her Aunt now?”

Teacher Ma’s gaze drifted this way, and the others awkwardly fell silent.

Ren Jiaxuan and his deskmate Yang Xue performed a scene from the opera The White-Haired Girl, while the other students simply brought on scenes from operas and plays of all kinds.

“I didn’t expect your class to be so talented. Just ten minutes, and every one of you is like a wound-up alarm clock, bursting with energy. Did you all practice when we weren’t around?” Dong Yanyan whispered with a smile.

Zhang Dawei grinned smugly. “The entrance interview for our year was very strict. If you didn’t have this much foundation, you couldn’t get into this class.”

Dong Yanyan nodded in understanding. “So the idea is to make up for strengths and weaknesses, which is why the academic requirements are a little lower.”

The beautiful Zhang Xiaolin beside them was displeased and couldn’t help rolling her eyes a little.

Dong Yanyan knew she had misspoken, so she stuck out her tongue and pretended not to notice.

The afternoon class continued until half past three. Dong Yanyan packed up and was about to head back to the classroom when Ren Jiaxuan called her from behind.

“What is it?” she said, turning back with a smile.

“The song you sang just now was really nice. How come I’ve never heard it before?” Ren Jiaxuan asked with a smile.

“It was sung by Yang Yuying. It’s normal that you haven’t heard it.” Dong Yanyan brushed him off and was about to slip away.

Ren Jiaxuan caught her arm with quick reflexes and smiled. “It was only an accidental kiss. No need to be this embarrassed, right?”

Dong Yanyan was momentarily at a loss for words. “You—”

In her panic, she almost said that her sister had once rolled around in bed with others how many times—why should she care about this? But after thinking it over, she held herself back at last. After all, she had been caught off guard by a sneak attack. Still, whenever she looked at him now, her ears burned and her heart fluttered, and she felt as though both her emotional intelligence and her age had gone back with her in time.

“All right, I’m teasing you. I’ll treat you to dinner,” Ren Jiaxuan said with a smile.

At that, Dong Yanyan brightened. “Wonderful. I want foie gras, truffles, and steak!”

“No problem. You can eat me instead if you want!” Ren Jiaxuan said indulgently, pinching her nose and putting an arm around her as he led her out.

Zhang Dawei called after them, laughing, “Jiaxuan, where are you two off to this time?”

Ren Jiaxuan waved at him with effortless charm. “Taking your aunt out to dinner!”

Dong Yanyan turned back and waved, smiling sweeter than honey.

Zhang Dawei looked helpless, while He Jingxuan gloated on the side. “What am I supposed to say about you? If you were playing Linghu Chong, Guo Jing, Li Xunhuan, or Chu Liuxiang, wouldn’t she obediently call you brother? But you had to play Yang Guo, and now look at this—you’ve made yourself a generation younger! I suspect she deliberately wanted to hear you call her ‘Aunt.’ I’m telling you, I’m not going to count it from your side. How embarrassing. I’ll count it from Jiaxuan’s side.”

With that, he shoved both hands into his trouser pockets and strolled away.