Chapter 1 My Dreams Are Cheesy
I know I will grow old alone and I want to live with memories, so I decided to write down so many trivial things.
Xiang Qianlan01
I have a diary with red patent cover that records my life from the age of ten to seventeen.
To be honest, I am not a likable girl. Apart from smiling gently in front of my mother, I can't find any other advantages about myself.
By the way, being pretty might be one of the reasons.
There is no doubt that I have a good appearance, as evidenced by the fact that every time I go to the convenience store to buy daily necessities, a group of little hooligans on the roadside always stare at me and whistle.
When I was a child, I was often bullied by children of the same age. When other children were crying in their parents' arms, I could already help the old lady at the entrance of the alley to pick up garbage to earn some meager income for my mother. As for those who bullied me, I earned my status with my fists.
Yes, I can fight, and I’m very good at it and rarely lose. Fighting seems to be a natural skill of mine, enough to protect myself.
When I was five years old, a car accident caused serious damage to my mother's spine and she could no longer walk, but the man was safe and sound. He was unwilling to bear the burden of the family and chose to divorce and abandon me and my mother. I often thought maliciously, why is it so unfair? Why is he fine? Why didn't he die?
He died, but at least I could comfort myself that my father died in a car accident, which was better than for me to admit that my father was an irresponsible man who left my mother and me to fend for ourselves while he lived happily alone.
Ever since I was old enough to understand, I have been defending my own life and my mother's life. I will not offend others unless they offend me. If someone offends me, I will return the favor tenfold.
My mother's world collapsed when my father abandoned her. In addition to her physical illness, she was also greatly traumatized mentally. From a young age, I knew that I was my mother's hope for survival. In order to preserve this hope, I vowed to work hard to live a happy life.
When I was fifteen, the teacher in school asked us to talk about our dreams. Everyone rushed to the podium to speak. When it was my turn, I only said two words, "make money." After I finished speaking, I caused laughter from the audience.
Yes, my dream is cheesy, I dream of making a lot of money, letting my mother live in a big house and not have to worry about life. Sounds funny, right?
But I couldn't laugh.
How can we describe our life in Tongluo Lane for the past 17 years?
My mother spent years sewing and mending at a small table in front of the window. The sofa in the palm-sized living room was piled with other people's rags. Because of the hard work, my mother aged quickly. Her eyesight was not good and she had to wear reading glasses. She was reluctant to spend money to go to the hospital for treatment. Her legs missed the best treatment period and she was wheelchair-bound for many years. With my insistence, she has only gone to the hospital regularly for checkups in the past two years.
The photos hanging on the wall show my mother when she was young, which is in stark contrast to her current appearance. Life has deprived her of the right to be beautiful.
The alley where we live is always filled with quarreling couples and scoundrels making trouble. On sunny days, we can smell the stench of the sewer when we go out, and on rainy days, our shoes are always soaked with water when we come home.
There are no flowers to be seen in spring, and when winter comes, the alleys are filled with thick white fog and are extremely cold.
This old urban area is like a scar on the skin of a modern city. The city’s bright lights cannot illuminate the sadness of the people at the bottom of society.
In my memory, those seventeen years seemed as long as a whole century.
"Lanlan, don't forget to bring milk."
My mother pushed the wheelchair out and covered her knees with a blanket while giving me instructions. Her not-so-young face in the morning light made me dazed for a moment.
I forced a smile and waved the white glass bottle in my hand at her: "I remember it."
She turned the wheelchair confidently and went to the window again, as if she didn't want to waste every minute and every second. I tightened my grip on the glass bottle, sniffed, and reached out to push the door.
I don’t like drinking milk, but I still take it with me when I go out every day.
Above my head were crisscrossed wires and clothes hung out to dry in every household. Light grey clouds floated in the low sky. The alley was a little deserted in the early morning. I ate bread and walked all the way to the bus stop outside. In another year, I would start a four-year boarding life. Thinking that no one would take care of my mother, I suddenly felt lost. No matter what, I couldn't leave this city too far.
Bus No. 2 goes north and passes through twenty stops before arriving near the school. The journey takes one and a half hours every day, so I need to leave home an hour earlier to avoid being late.
On the way to school, I could hear people discussing in low voices.
"The latest styles of skirts are available at Haitian Department Store. Let's go shopping after school."
"I heard there's an internet cafe on West Street with very fast internet speed. Let's go there on weekends." "I really envy you guys. I have to learn piano every day and the driver takes me to and from school. I don't have any free time at all!"
Every young face was filled with smiles, and I, with my stern face, seemed a little out of place. I walked past them, entered the campus, and walked along the tree-lined path to the classroom.
I have no friends, no common topics with others, and live like an old man, perhaps old people are more energetic than me. Studying is the lowest-cost way to increase personal value in the world, so I never miss any opportunity to get a full scholarship through studying. I am an "excellent student" and a "poor student" with excellent character and academic performance. I am also a proud and beautiful girl, loved by teachers, but also hated by many girls.
But what does it matter if others hate me? Right now, that's all I care about, making money with points.
A month ago, I participated in the Mathematical Olympiad. The prize money for winning the competition was 5,000 yuan. As long as I won this money, I wouldn't have to worry about the tuition for college next year. After several elimination rounds, there was someone who kept catching up with me. Qi Beichen, with his super high IQ and strong background, was no stranger to me.
There were still fifteen minutes before the late bell. I stood in front of the red list on the bulletin board, staring at the latest rankings. The three words "Xiang Qianlan" topped the list, and tied for first place was Qi Beichen.
It's this person again.
I gritted my teeth and thought, what kind of guy is this who wants to snatch this scholarship from me? The second place is far inferior to me, so I don't have to worry about it, but this person...
I reached out my hand, and through the cold glass, I pointed my index finger at the name of that person. Qi Beichen...
"Who are you?" A cold voice sounded above his head.
I tilted my head and saw a gloomy face. He was wearing a school uniform. He looked good, with distinct features. His eyes were cold and had a distant light. When he asked me a question, his chin was slightly raised, and he looked contemptuous and disgusted.
I ignored his question and asked back, "Who are you?"
He didn't answer me, but pointed his finger next to my index finger, pointed at the name and asked me : "Do you have any problem with him?"
I silently withdrew my hand and was about to leave, but unexpectedly he suddenly leaned close to me, and his warm breath sprayed on my ear. I turned my head away and looked at the ground calmly. I could see the texture of the leaves under the morning light.
A low voice came from my ear: "I'm asking you a question."
He was very close to me, and his hot breath made it hard to breathe. Facing such close contact with a member of the opposite sex, a normal girl would have screamed long ago, but I closed my eyes indifferently and didn't intend to pay any attention to him.
After a while of stalemate, he seemed to be annoyed. He heard a "pop" sound beside his ear. He knocked hard on the bulletin board next to him and raised his eyebrows: "Could it be that you are Xiang Qianlan?"
When he asked this question, I was almost sure of his identity. It turned out that Qi Beichen was just a not-so-good guy.
"Can I go now?" I looked up at him.
After saying that, without waiting for his answer, I pushed him away. My hand was very strong and I was not polite when I pushed him. He was pushed aside and glared at me with some annoyance.
"There are only five minutes left. We're going to be late." I gave him a fake smile and left without looking back. Two people in the same school who had never met each other in two years could be related just because of a chat.
Picking up a girl is a common trick used by men. A compliment, a cocktail, or a greeting can often successfully start a conversation with a woman.
Beautiful women become more vain because of men's flattery. Some women settle in beauty, while some women sink in beauty. When Qi Beichen started chatting with me, I naturally thought it was because of my appearance.
I am beautiful, am I not?
The ballpoint pen in my hand turned countless circles, I scanned the formulas written on the test paper, supported my chin with one hand, and looked out the window bored.
Under the shade of the banyan leaves, a pair of eyes in the classroom opposite me stared at me with a smile, and it seemed that they had been staring at me for a long time, which startled me.
Qi Beichen is from the opposite class? No, the person sitting at that window before was a girl. Did they change seats?
Our teaching buildings are very close to each other, and students in classrooms can often see each other. Some girls will deliberately sit by the window just to see the handsome boys in the opposite class. I don't like noise, so I always sit in the last row by the window.
The pair of malicious eyes opposite me looked at me wantonly, and I pulled the curtains to block his sight.
"Was that Qi Beichen? He seemed to be looking at us."
"Yeah, their class changed seats a few days ago."
"Look at that...isn't that Yin Shuitong? That woman went to see him again. She's so shameless. She's not even as pretty as Xiang Qianlan from our class."
"Xiang Qianlan looks cold and icy. I heard that she..."
The discussion died down.
Although they praised me for being pretty, I still felt annoyed. I put on my headphones and picked up a blank exercise book to start writing.
God is fair. Although he couldn't give me a complete family, he gave me a good appearance and a smart mind.
I finished the homework that was due in the afternoon in advance, and when I asked for leave in the afternoon, the teacher turned a blind eye and approved my leave.
Coming out of school, I felt a sense of relaxation like never before.
The Grain in Ear season has just passed and the scent of summer is getting stronger.
The air is filled with the faint scent of gardenia, which smells very comfortable. I am going to a place, a dilapidated factory, my secret base.
After staying in a noisy place for a long time, I especially want to find a place where no one can see me and be alone. I don’t need to do anything. Just lie down and listen to the wind and look at the sky, and my mood will become better.
I bought a can of beer and a bottle of drink, put them in my schoolbag and went to take the bus. Sometimes, I was a little greedy for the taste of alcohol, which made my nerves numb for a moment, but I didn't dare let my mother find out that I was drinking, because she would be sad.
The drink was meant to mask the smell of beer.
The factory was still the same, with the rusty iron gate ajar, welcoming my arrival. I jumped out of the car, walked through the waist-high weeds, and climbed up to the second-floor terrace via the escalator.
A place that is my own.
I drank beer, sat on the railing, dangling my legs, and squinted my eyes to watch the birds flying over my head.
Where will those birds fly to?
I often sit like this for an entire afternoon, thinking about random things.
Later I met Chai Quan here.
