109. Truth or Dare

“Hey, everyone, don’t be so sentimental! Graduation doesn’t mean the end—it’s not like we’re disappearing. We can still get together during holidays and festivals. It’s not like we won’t see each other again.”

Youthful melancholy comes and goes quickly. Soon, someone broke the silence, and the others laughed and chimed in.

“Exactly. As long as our hearts stay connected, no matter which city we go to, we’ll remain friends.”

“Come on, let’s make a pact: every summer vacation, we’ll all come back to First High School for a reunion. We can also check if old Wu and old Cao have trained any outstanding juniors.”

“Of course there will be. Didn’t old Cao say many times that we were the worst batch he ever taught?”

“Uh, do you really believe that? Teachers probably say that about every class, right?”

“Maybe not, but I think old Cao was talking about you. I’m such an excellent student, I’m definitely not included.”

“Could you have a little shame?”

Without the teachers’ pressure or exams, this usually well-behaved group of students spoke freely, calling their teachers “old Wu” and “old Cao” as if they were old friends.

After lingering in the classroom for a while, though reluctant to leave, they didn’t want to disturb the younger students still having evening study downstairs. So, they quickly switched locations, turning off lights and closing doors as they slipped out.

As they passed through the corridor, laughter bubbled up once more as they reminisced about the monotonous yet joyful extracurricular life of their high school years.

“I met Yan Ge right here,” Ma Yunan said, pointing down the hallway with a sigh. “I transferred here from the Foreign Language Academy’s affiliated high school. The first person I saw at First High was Bai Jinyan. I even asked you for directions back then, didn’t I, Yan Ge?”

Bai Jinyan looked thoughtfully at Ma Yunan. “I don’t think so. We probably met on the first floor, near the Grade One classroom, right?”

“Ahem, close enough,” Ma Yunan said with a gleam in his eyes, somewhat tipsy, slinging his arm around a nearby boy’s shoulder.

“Speaking of which, Zhang Yuan left the deepest impression on me. We weren’t even in the same class in Grade One, and I’d already heard your name,” Ma Yunan said, shaking his head in admiration. “Throwing firecrackers into the boys’ bathroom—what were you thinking?”

Another boy next to Zhang Yuan laughed and added, “Just throwing them would be bad enough, but you hit old Cao in the next stall! That ‘worst batch’ comment? I think it was meant for you!”

Zhang Yuan’s expression was a mix of pride and embarrassment.

“There are girls here, could you at least show some decency?”

“Everyone in class knows about this little stunt of yours. Why would we keep it secret?”

The boys chuckled and patted the shoulders of the girls in front.

“Mei Yanran, you tell us—did you know about Zhang Yuan’s firecracker episode?”

Mei Yanran turned around, smiled softly, nodded, then after a moment added, “Actually, there’s one thing I’ve been curious about for a long time, and not just me—the girls in class have all been wondering...”

“What is it?”

Mei Yanran looked a bit embarrassed, and after several prompts from the boys, pointed curiously toward a corner of the wall.

“After class, you guys would all crowd into that corner, shouting something like ‘Aruba’... what was that all about?”

“…”

The boys, who had been so eloquent moments ago, now jostled each other but couldn’t give a coherent answer.

Chen Ruowen glanced over, curious to ask, but Bai Jinyan’s look stopped her.

“Don’t ask.”

“Why not?”

Bai Jinyan rolled his eyes. “You never cared about this nonsense before. What’s gotten into you today?”

“Did you play this too?” Chen Ruowen asked, intrigued.

Bai Jinyan’s face darkened. “No.”

“Then…”

Before Chen Ruowen could finish, Bai Jinyan grabbed her hand and strode forward.

Ma Yunan and Zhang Yuan, those vulgar and sleazy fellows, have even corrupted Ruowen!

Once outside the teaching building, the group still hesitated to part ways. They gathered on the deserted playground, sitting in a tight circle, shoulder to shoulder.

Li Yun and Ye Qing, who had appeared a few times before around Chen Ruowen, encouraged each other with the courage lent by the alcohol and linked arms, sitting close on Bai Jinyan’s other side.

Chen Ruowen raised an eyebrow and gave Bai Jinyan a pinch on the waist.

Bai Jinyan calmly grasped her hand, showing no sign of being overwhelmed by the gesture.

“How about we play ‘Truth or Dare’?”

Having been edged aside by Li Yun and the others, Ma Yunan turned to sit beside Chen Ruowen, excitedly suggesting, winking at a few classmates.

“There’s some gossip I’ve been dying to know. Aren’t you curious too?”

“We’re so curious…” Several of those noticed quickly agreed.

“Alright, let’s play. But remember, if you’re asked a truth, you can’t lie—you have to answer honestly!”

Worried someone might back out, Ma Yunan added with a wink, “Think carefully, this is our chance. If you miss it now, you’ll regret it when you’re older.”

It was just a game, but the way he said it made it sound like a life-or-death matter.

Li Yun glanced at Bai Jinyan and seemed to make up her mind, nodding decisively.

Several others showed similar resolve.

Although early romances were forbidden in high school, and First High was notoriously strict about relationships, feelings can’t be suppressed forever. In such beautiful youth, how could there not be a few unforgettable people—those you wanted to speak to more but couldn’t even find the courage?

Liking someone needs no reason, nor does it always seek a relationship. It is a pure, clear wine brewed in youth, enough to bring a gentle intoxication for three or five years.

Even years later, when recalling that person from youth, you might forget his face, his voice, even his name—only a bittersweet trace of innocence lingers, unforgettable forever.

“How are we supposed to play with so many people? If we play rock-paper-scissors, it’ll take until morning to get a winner,” someone asked.

“Thirty people playing rock-paper-scissors? Have you lost your mind from exams?” Ma Yunan, who suggested the game, pulled out a half-empty water bottle from somewhere and tossed it in his hand.

“Pass the bottle, whoever it points to when I say stop has to take the punishment.”

“That works. But who’s going to be the host?”

Ma Yunan cleared his throat and shamelessly volunteered.

“I’ll reluctantly be the host this time!”

“You wish!”

Several people shouted back.

No one wanted Ma Yunan to hog the privilege of hosting—then he wouldn’t have to reveal secrets or take dares. That wouldn’t be fair.

“How about this: to be fair, I, as class president, will host the first round. Then whoever gets picked in the first round will host the second round, and so on. Sound good?”

Everyone nodded.

Class president Zhang Qi stood up from the grass, snatched the half-empty water bottle from Ma Yunan, and sat in the center of the circle.

“I’ll toss the bottle. Whoever catches it starts, and then it passes clockwise.”

Zhang Qi closed his eyes, picked a random direction, and tossed the bottle high—

“—Truth or Dare, let’s begin!”