Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Observations from the School (5)

On the first day of class, Yu Manyi hadn’t even gotten her paints yet. Everything had already been ordered and was stored at a shop near the art studio. The only things she put into her bag along with the literacy textbook were the sleeve guards and paintbrushes she had stayed up late sewing. After the math class ended, she quickly packed up her things to leave. Song Qi walked over to her side with his lesson plan in hand, stood for a moment without saying anything, and then left.

The little postman rested his chin on his hand as he watched Yu Manyi and asked, “Miss Yu, aren’t you attending the afternoon class?”

Yu Manyi hesitated for a moment but ultimately didn’t tell him the whole truth. Only a few of Song Qi’s students knew she was going to the art studio, and they would never leak anything to the Yu family. But she didn’t place the same level of trust in others. She said to the little postman, “I’ve already studied everything from the literacy class. I won’t be attending the afternoon sessions anymore.”

“Have you told Miss You?” the little postman asked.

Yu Manyi shook her head as well. After all, the art studio was in the eastern part of the city, and she couldn’t use the Yu family’s carriage. If she delayed any longer, she’d be late. She didn’t offer the little postman any more explanation and ran straight out of the school, heading toward the vast world beyond the gates.

It was summer, the cicadas chirped incessantly, and the waterways in Shaoxing’s countryside stretched in all directions. Yu Manyi jogged along the riverside, soon breaking into a light sweat that soaked through her thin school uniform. She remembered that just a few days ago, the chinaberry trees along the bank hadn’t yet bloomed, but today their canopies were already covered in white and purple blossoms. Mixed with the green leaves, they hung over the river, forming a dense shade. The delicate petals were blown by the wind, falling onto the river’s surface and also onto Yu Manyi’s clothes and hair.

The distance was still quite far. By the time Yu Manyi reached the studio, Teacher Su had already started the class. There were more students in this class than in the literacy course’s English section, and Su Wen was calling the roll one by one. When he called Yu Manyi’s name, she had just entered from the back door, still out of breath from running too hard over the arched bridge. She had previously told Su Wen that her family might not approve of her attending the class, so she wished to keep it a secret. If her name ever needed to be announced publicly, she asked that he help conceal her identity. Su Wen was always understanding. At the moment her name came up, he hesitated slightly, then raised the attendance sheet and said, “Last one, Miss Yu—are you here?”

The studio went quiet for a moment, then a hand shot up high from the back row.

“Here,” said Yu Manyi, who had just sat down and set up her drawing board. Looking at Su Wen standing in front of the studio, sweat still glistened on her forehead from running. She caught her breath and repeated, “Miss Yu, present.”

…

Yu Manyi had become so busy—busier even than those days last year when she had to hide Song Qi in the cellar.

In the mornings, she had to attend one difficult English class and another even more difficult math class. At noon, she ate a sesame flatbread while walking, rushing to get to the studio in time for roll call. After class, she would run back to the school to meet Song Qi and the others in the prep room, making time to complete the illustrations for the newspaper. All this happened openly, right under the Yu family’s nose, which surprised her almost as much as it relieved her. Once again, she realized that the strict rules of the Yu family actually had many cracks. These rules dictated “must not,” “cannot,” “may not,” but they only bound those who followed them—and only punished those same people. If someone truly rebellious used those cracks to start doing things they “may,” “can,” or “should,” the rules wouldn’t even notice, and would be powerless to stop them. Yu Manyi suddenly understood: rules are meant to control those who follow them. Rules are nonsense.

Once there’s a first person who breaks the rules, there will be a second. On the seventh day that Yu Manyi skipped literacy class to go to the studio, she was finally caught red-handed by Miss You, who had arrived at the school early.The two girls stood at the entrance of the school, staring wide-eyed at each other. Beside them, the little postman happened to be passing by with a bowl of plain noodles. The coachman who had brought Miss You peeked curiously into the school, then left, leaving Miss You behind to grab Yu Manyi’s wrist, looking like she wouldn’t let go without an explanation. When Miss You got angry, the light birthmark on her pale face would darken — that was also one of the reasons she was once rejected from a marriage proposal.

“You-jiejie,” Yu Manyi had finally managed to catch a day when Song Qi ended class early so she wouldn’t be late, but hadn’t expected to be blocked at the school gate, “I’ve just had some things going on in the afternoons lately, you…”

“Lately?” Miss You questioned. “So in a few days, you’ll come back?”

Yu Manyi, feeling guilty, shut her mouth.

“Miss Yu,” Miss You’s tone faltered a little, sounding hurt, “I thought I’d finally found someone I could talk to. And then you just stopped coming without a word. I asked the little postman, and even he didn’t know where you’d gone. In this literacy class, among all the teachers and students, you’re the only one I know. You…”

She let go of Yu Manyi’s hand in a deflated manner.

“If you’re never coming back, I don’t really care much about this reading and writing anyway. Coming and going quietly every day — it’s no different from being back at the You family…”

“You-jiejie, You-jiejie.” Yu Manyi felt like a heartless scoundrel, having hurt Miss You so deeply. She looked around — the students who had been passing by were now gone — and simply stomped her foot and pulled Miss You to stand under a large locust tree outside the school.

“You-jiejie,” Yu Manyi began, her tone a bit desperate, “I’ll tell you, but you absolutely cannot tell anyone else — not even anyone from the You family.”

“What would I even say to them?” Miss You replied.

Seeing how firm she looked, Yu Manyi nodded, stood on tiptoe, and whispered into her ear everything about learning to paint. The more Miss You listened, the more surprised her expression became. She looked again at Yu Manyi and noticed the faint traces of paint on her fingertips that wouldn’t wash off and the edge of a sleeve guard sticking out of her bag.

“…My third aunt would definitely not agree,” Yu Manyi finished her secretive explanation at last, “So I’ve been sneaking off to class. I didn’t even tell the little postman. You-jiejie, if you really want to talk to me, I’ll just come back to school earlier. I’ll explain anything you don’t understand from the literacy class, and then go with Song Qi and the others… Please don’t be mad.”

After hearing everything, Miss You’s expression softened a lot, and the color of her birthmark faded back. Then she looked up at the sky to check the position of the sun and sighed inwardly — she was probably going to be late for this class again.Yu Manyi felt that women’s issues weren’t all that difficult to solve. Once she explained her whereabouts to Miss You, the latter forgave her and even agreed to wait a bit longer for her after class at the school. It was men who were troublesome—like Song Qi. These past few days, he’d been acting like he’d taken the wrong medicine: holding back words when she was drawing illustrations for the newspaper, and occasionally prying about her cousin. If she didn’t want to talk, Song Qi would be displeased. If she explained too much, he’d also be displeased.

Fortunately, she now had someone other than Fang Qian to confide in, so she told Miss You about this strange behavior. Miss You laughed so hard her face turned red, but didn’t speak directly about it. She only said, “Manyi, little Manyi, this isn’t something I can explain for you. You’ll have to figure it out yourself—only then will you truly understand.”

Yu Manyi felt utterly exhausted, and concluded that both men and women were difficult to understand—painting was the only thing easy to grasp.

Miss You had already agreed to wait for her every day after the literacy class. At that time, the Yu family’s coachman hadn’t yet arrived, and Yu Manyi didn’t have to hide her practice sketches at Fang Qian’s place. When Miss You asked to see her drawings, she showed them openly. But unexpectedly, after a few days of looking, Miss You suddenly came to Yu Manyi and said she wanted to join the art class too.

This genuinely caught Yu Manyi off guard.

“Because you said,” Miss You asked nervously, “some people with no foundation still learned quite well. I thought, I come to literacy class just to talk with you anyway. I’m not actually interested in reading and writing. And also…”

“The tuition and art supplies all cost money,” Yu Manyi said.

Miss You fell silent. She wasn’t like Yu Manyi—easily discouraged. Yu Manyi watched her, thought for a moment, then changed her tone: “But Teacher Su said, if a friend is interested and wants to transfer into the class, they can first sit in and audit a lesson. Miss You, how about you come audit a class with me first?”

Over time, Yu Manyi had developed a working method for getting things done: don’t try to succeed all at once. First, take one step. Then another. Step by step, and the path would appear. Inviting Miss You to audit the class was just part of this method. The two of them agreed to meet at the school gate the next day at noon. Once the You family’s coachman left, they would head to the studio together.

Yu Manyi was already familiar with the route from the school to the studio. For Miss You, it was her first time walking it. It was obvious she rarely left the You family residence. Being half-dragged, half-run along by Yu Manyi in the scorching summer heat, her face quickly turned red from sweating, and the birthmark on her face became even more pronounced. By the time they reached the arched bridge, she was clearly out of breath, holding onto the stone-carved bridge railing for support, unable to recover for quite a while.

Meanwhile, Yu Manyi only remembered once they reached the bridge that a few new pigments she’d ordered had arrived at the shop, and she needed to pick them up. So she left Miss You standing on the arched bridge and ran off.

The shadows of the trees were lush, fallen blossoms scattered in the breeze. Miss You stood alone on the arched bridge, watching Yu Manyi’s figure disappear beneath it. She wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand, then turned to look in the opposite direction across the bridge.

Many years later, whenever Yu Manyi thought of that day, she always felt a mix of gratitude, regret, and sorrow. When people are young, they have no idea what fate awaits them. Naturally, she had no way of knowing that many of her later narrow escapes from despair all began from that moment—when Miss You turned around on that arched bridge.