Chapter 5: Suspicion

After returning to the dormitory, the atmosphere was so heavy it seemed one could wring an entire ocean from it. Zhou Jie and Wang Qing’s gazes were like twin searchlights, fixed on me, their faces etched with suspicion and worry. I quietly pulled out a chair and sat down, my eyes calm as I gazed at the swaying shadows of trees outside the window, contemplating what I ought to do next.

Meanwhile, my stomach had long since begun to grumble. I was debating whether tomorrow I should have stir-fried pork with green peppers, or chicken stewed with mushrooms, or perhaps braised pork ribs, or simply cabbage soup.

Just then, Zhou Jie could no longer restrain herself. She shot to her feet and planted her hands firmly on the table, leaning forward, nearly glaring at me. “Who are you, really? How do you have such skills?” Wang Qing edged closer as well, her eyes a mix of curiosity and nervousness. Startled by the sudden outburst, the delicious dishes I’d been imagining scattered from my thoughts.

The dormitory was so silent that only our hurried breathing could be heard. Moonlight streamed through a crack in the curtains, spilling dappled silver across the floor, illuminating the room but not the riddles in our hearts.

At that moment, the door was gently pushed open. Feng Danyan stepped in with a light, almost dancing gait, her smile as warm as the spring sun, instantly dispelling the gloom that had gathered inside. She carried several steaming cups of milk tea, the sweet aroma so rich it seemed to flavor the air itself, as if the events of yesterday had been utterly forgotten. All traces of panic from the day before had been cast aside. I had to admit, I rather admired her selective memory.

Almost in unison, Zhou Jie and Wang Qing each placed a hand on my shoulders, their grip unyielding, leading me wordlessly out of the dormitory, along the corridor bathed in dim yellow light, and finally to a secluded corner.

There, an old streetlamp cast a weak glow, stretching our shadows long and twisted, intertwining them on the ground. They stood facing me, hemming me in, their eyes burning with an urgent hunger for answers, tinged with a barely perceptible fear. The night wind brought a chilling touch, whispering through the silence, yet unable to break the oppressive stillness.

I said nothing. The two exchanged glances; a flash of resolve passed between them, as though they had come to a decision. Zhou Jie moved first, swift as an arrow loosed from a bow, lunging at me with her right fist whistling toward my face. At the same time, Wang Qing leapt from the other side, her left leg tracing a graceful arc through the air, aiming straight for my waist.

In the moonlight, their figures moved with ghostly speed, the air itself seeming to whistle with their attack. Instinctively, I shifted aside, sidestepping Zhou Jie’s punch with ease. My right hand guided Wang Qing’s leg, dissipating her force. I nearly reached for the medicinal powder in my pocket, but remembered this was likely just a test from the two of them and put it back. Their momentum gone, both froze in place, stunned.

They gaped at me in disbelief, astonishment flickering through their eyes before being replaced by grim determination. Zhou Jie let out a low cry and attacked again, her movements as agile as a leopard. Her hands formed rapid seals in the air, weaving an invisible net that swept toward me. Wang Qing, unwilling to be outdone, leaped lightly into the air, her hands curled into claws, fingertips gleaming coldly like the brightest stars in the night, slashing at me with deadly intent.

Their attacks came as swiftly as shadows beneath the moon, the air shrieking as if torn apart. Yet I slipped through their offensive like a leaf in the wind, my movements uncanny, always dodging with perfect timing and leaving only afterimages behind. Their every strike met only empty air. If it had been anyone else, a single blow might have ended it in a pool of blood.

Their eyes widened, as if witnessing something beyond belief. The moonlight rendered their faces pale as ghosts, every muscle trembling visibly. One of them was already shaking, her facial muscles twitching uncontrollably. Yet soon, both composed themselves, though a trace of lingering fear remained.

Zhou Jie’s lips quivered, her voice barely steady, tinged with incredulity. “Who... who are you? How can you possibly possess such extraordinary skills?” Wang Qing’s gaze shimmered with conflicting emotions—shock, urgency—as she stepped so close she was nearly touching me, her eyes locked onto mine, searching for a hint of the truth. But she found only disappointment.

I merely stood there in silence, the night wind rustling the hem of my clothes, bringing a chill. I said nothing, as mute as a statue. At times like these, I knew, silence was the best shield.

Faced with their insistent stares, I sighed helplessly and replied in a soft voice, “I’m just an ordinary sophomore. There’s nothing special about me, truly.” Before I’d finished, Zhou Jie’s brows knitted together, and Wang Qing’s gaze sharpened to a knife’s edge. Clearly, they didn’t believe a word of it.

“So why did you miss so many classes your freshman year?” Zhou Jie’s voice was low and forceful, each word weighted with accusation. The moonlight cast shifting shadows across her face, her eyes deep and inescapable, threatening to pull me in.

I scratched my head, hastily concocting an excuse. “Well… I… something happened at home. I had to take care of it, so…” My words trailed off awkwardly, my eyes darting away. Wang Qing’s lips curled in a knowing smirk, as if she saw straight through my lie.

They saw through it and pressed me harder. Zhou Jie’s gaze was sharp as a blade, relentless and unwavering. “Something at home? For that long? Or are you hiding something else?” Wang Qing circled to my side, arms crossed, a mocking smile on her lips, her eyes glinting with the light of one who sees all.

In the moonlight, her shadow stretched long, tangling with mine, as if to trap me in this silent interrogation. I tried to speak again, but words failed me. I could only look at them helplessly, my chest weighed down as if by a great stone, making it hard to even breathe.

Pressed on all sides, I racked my brain for a way out, sweat beading quietly on my brow. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself, my gaze flicking between them, searching for any opening.

Feigning calm, I cleared my throat. “Actually, there really were some family issues—difficult things to talk about. That period was rough, so I didn’t go to class.” As I spoke, I deliberately lowered my head, letting my voice tremble with emotion, as though genuinely touched by the memory. The slanting moonlight cast a gentle shadow across my face. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Zhou Jie and Wang Qing’s expressions soften, as if they believed me a little.

Then they asked in unison, “But how are you so skilled?” Inwardly, I pleaded with myself to think fast. I stammered, “It’s just a hobby of mine.” That was the best I could come up with for now.

They exchanged thoughtful looks, and my heart leapt into my throat. Then they said, “Well, that’s certainly an unusual hobby you have.” At that, my nerves finally eased, and I smiled broadly at them. Clearly, they believed my story.

Afterward, the three of us returned to the dormitory together, acting as if nothing had happened. Soon, all four of us drifted off into peaceful sleep.