Blackbird

Two days later, the midterm results came out, and I surprisingly ranked fifth in the entire class. I thought this might be because I was gradually adapting to the pace of high school studies—of course, it was definitely also because of Lingxuan’s company. As for Lingxuan—she said she bombed her Chinese exam, but whether it was the sixth group in science or ninth overall, she was still in the top ten of the grade. It’s terrifying how top students downplay their achievements, but I knew she had put in a lot of effort behind the scenes.

However, Lingxuan said her mother was still very angry and had signed her up for an additional Chinese tutoring class on Sunday afternoon.

Wednesday of next week was the class meeting period, and also the first experience of high school club activities.

A chart indicating the locations of various club activities was posted on the class bulletin board. The Biology Club was in a study classroom on the first floor of the second-year building. This time, Mr. Xu didn’t keep us late, so as soon as class ended, we rushed over there.

On the blackboard was boldly written the club’s name—“Super B Biology Club”—B standing for biology? It sounded a bit cheesy…

We sat in the second row, and Lingxuan tilted her head slightly, eyes fixed on the screen with some anticipation. The club president was at the podium loading a PowerPoint. One by one, students trickled in, carrying pencil cases and thick white homework notebooks.

The class bell rang. Clearing his throat, the president said:

“Let’s first welcome our new freshmen members!”—there was a smattering of applause.

“The vice president is at another club activity this time… never mind that. Last time we talked about Porifera. This time, we’ll discuss Cnidarians.”

The screen displayed “Cnidarians and Ctenophores” in English. As expected from an international program senior, the entire presentation was in English, which was mostly beyond my understanding.

“Look at these pictures—this is the Hat Jellyfish, this the Peach Blossom Jellyfish, and this the Side Flower Anemone… all very beautiful. Also, these animals are quite connected to our lives; for example, jellyfish are quite tasty…”

I glanced around the classroom. About a dozen people had come, filling nearly all the seats in the last two rows, probably for convenience in writing notes. Indeed, some were whispering, others scribbling furiously. The supervising teacher sat at the back, heads bent over his lesson plan, occasionally glancing up. The president seemed used to this one-man show, turning his back to us at times to passionately expound on his love for zoology, addressing the blackboard. In other words, we had arrived at what could only be called a “boring class” scene.

“…This one in the picture is called Obelia. Its alternation of generations is quite interesting. The previous image shows its medusa form, this one is the polyp form. In the polyp form, it reproduces asexually by budding, producing small medusa buds that grow into jellyfish, and medusae reproduce sexually to create polyps…”

It sounded quite fascinating. I put down my pen and looked up at the circular diagram showing strange eggs, larvae, polyps, and medusae connected by arrows. I looked at Lingxuan—she was the only one who hadn’t taken out her homework, unsure if she forgot it or was holding on to some last bit of stubbornness.

“Now, let’s watch a video—this will wrap up today’s lesson…” the president whispered the last part, but sitting in the second row, I heard it clearly.

“Hmm…” On the way back to class with Lingxuan, she shared her thoughts on the talk, “It was pretty interesting. I heard next time we’ll go to the lab, maybe that will be even more fun… but just for this time…”

She paused, then said surprisingly, “I could talk about this stuff too. And… by this time next year, I want to start my own club!”

“What? Are you sure?” Even though I was quite familiar with her, Lingxuan was always unpredictable, constantly bringing me surprises—and sometimes shocks.

“Yeah. My mom should agree. Experience as a club leader can be added to the comprehensive evaluation. Also, I want to start a club related to studying… anyway, I’m not joking!”

“Like… what kind?”

“I have to think about it first, but… I’m definitely going to start one!”

“Well… I’ll be watching.” I couldn’t think of a better response on the spot.

“You have to join. If you don’t, I won’t start it.”

“Definitely.”

After the fourth period, before heading to the cafeteria, I habitually peeked into the neighboring class—they had been dismissed already. Lingxuan must have rushed off to grab lunch. Really, why can’t our class learn to end the last lesson five minutes early to reduce queues and increase study efficiency?

Too many people filled the first and second floors, so I went to the third-floor snack bar and bought a bottle of juice and a so-called fast-food burger (two slices of bread with a piece of fried chicken). Not very healthy, but oh well, once in a while shouldn’t hurt.

The third floor was cold and dim, with no lights on—only the snack bar’s glow flickered with shadows. Old dining tables and chairs were crowded to one side, stained and dirty. I found a relatively clean table and started eating alone.

Alone? Indeed. It had been a long time since I had felt this “alone.” The previous three years were mostly solitary—but now, unconsciously, much of that alone time was filled bit by bit with Lingxuan and thoughts about her, like missing puzzle pieces being put back together. Suddenly, those blank spaces—the solitude I had once been accustomed to and even enjoyed—became somewhat unbearable.

Where was Lingxuan? With so many people today, she probably couldn’t get her favorite cake. Companionship and care… is this what having friends feels like? But somehow, it felt different from just being friends… perhaps this was what “close friends” felt like.

What else could it be? “Like”? The dangerous thought startled me, and I quickly lowered my head to focus on my food.

After finishing, feeling a bit restless, I didn’t want to immediately return to homework. I took the emergency exit stairs up further. What was on the fourth floor? Oh, it seemed like a small attic, probably for duty staff—but obviously, this stairway hadn’t been used or cleaned for a long time; the dust was so thick that footsteps left marks. It was hard to imagine such a desolate place existing in Jianglin High School.

A dead black bird lay sprawled right in the middle of the third-to-last step, almost completely decayed, with only feathers and bones left, covered in dust. I stared at it, unable to look away: When had it flown in? How had it frantically dashed about this stairwell until it finally collapsed? There was no way to know.

It was about time to go back. Farewell, black bird. I muttered as I hurried downstairs.

A week later, I went alone to the fourth floor again to check on the black bird.

Another week later, the stairwell had been cleaned, and no trace of the corpse remained.

Two months remained until the next big exam; I could finally breathe a little easier.

I borrowed the book "Complexity" from Lingxuan. She said that if I wanted to read later, I could just take it from the back of the study classroom, so in the past few days after evening self-study, I ran over to read for a quarter of an hour before walking back with her.

I also learned the trick of skipping two steps at a time, the card holder around my neck jingling with each bounce.

“Do you always take the bus home alone?”

“Yeah, see.” I lifted the card holder hanging from my neck—one side was the campus card, the other a city transport card, with two keys attached. “They’re pretty busy with work, so they let me take the bus by myself. At this time of night, there aren’t many people. I can even review on the bus, though it’s not great for my eyes.”

“They really trust you.”

“Maybe they’re just too lazy to supervise me… but honestly, I’ve never caused trouble from childhood to now.

“Oh, by the way, in second and third year, I might miss the last bus. Not sure if they’ll come pick me up then. Oh well, my mom’s out all day, probably has a lot of housework after work. And I can’t imagine my dad, such a homebody, giving up his precious gaming time after work to drive his daughter home from high school… we’ll see when that time comes.”

“Ahahaha, I’m so jealous.”

“Really…” It was just a normal family life, after all.

“Do you have your own bank card or Alipay account or something?” Lingxuan suddenly asked.

“Yeah, why?”

“Help me buy some books online.” She handed me a scrap of paper. Under the streetlight, I could see the titles she had casually written in the corner: “Advanced Mathematics,” “Demian: The Story of a Lost Youth,” “Cognitive Neuroscience: The Biology of the Mind,” “Cybernetics”… truly a list fitting her style.

“I’ll pay you back at school… I just got a scholarship, so I have some money to spend freely.” She smiled. “But I can’t shop online… some books are hard to find here, and some are in the library but you can’t freely annotate them… so please help me!”

“Ah, okay. — The advanced math book is the green-covered edition, right? I saw the biology competition students have a set…”

“Yes.”

“...Seeing these books, I feel like ‘Ah, these are definitely the types you like,’ but I can’t quite put into words what kind of books you actually like… so why do you want to buy these—advanced math needs no explanation, the competition teacher recommended it, but the others…”

“Hmm…” The girl looked at me with an expression that said, “You really stumped me.”

“To solve problems.”

“...Math problems?”

“To know yourself.” After a pause, she quoted the Delphic oracle.

The joyful evenings spent reading in the study room didn’t last long. Miss Han, the math competition teacher, announced that recent Monday and Thursday evenings after self-study would be held in the conference room on the fifth floor of the integrated building, where they would review the high school syllabus to prevent anyone from not understanding when outside teachers come over winter break. Sequences, lines and circles, derivatives, conic sections, permutations and combinations. Receiving a thick stack of handouts, I felt overwhelmed: Is this the power of knowledge? Could mere mortals really bear this in just over a month?

“You’ve improved a lot since the last quiz, keep it up.” The teacher said suddenly while handing out the materials.

“Ah, uh… okay!” I nodded awkwardly.

Improved? It seemed so. At first, I was always near the bottom, but now, while my grades weren’t great, I no longer feared being kicked out of the competition class each time. So… I would continue attending lessons and doing problems, stumbling along but determined to keep pace with Lingxuan.

Worried about getting sleepy at night, I bought a can of cola from the vending machine, with just the right caffeine to keep me alert without spoiling my sleep.

The evening class was half new content, half exercises. I restlessly moved my pen, trying to use the new, still unfamiliar symbols and concepts I had just learned.

My arm accidentally brushed against Lingxuan’s beside me, and I quickly withdrew it, sneaking a glance at her. She didn’t notice, her hunched back and tense shoulders showing her full concentration. Suddenly, she seemed to have an idea about the last derivative problem, her right hand rapidly scribbling calculations on scratch paper while quietly muttering the unfolding algebraic expressions. “Not enough… try cubic approximation…” She scratched out what she had just written and began a new round of calculations.

After a while, she sighed in relief and leaned back in her chair, apparently having solved it. Wiping nonexistent sweat from her brow, she bent over the next problem. It was late November; even with the heater on, the classroom couldn’t shake the chill of the deep autumn night. She had taken off her jacket and tossed it on the chair, still wearing that thin shirt. I wondered if it was because her brain was working so hard it generated extra heat, or if she was, as she had said before, using thyroid hormone to elevate her nervous system’s excitability.

I took a gulp of cola, clenched my left fist, and clumsily sought the tangent point coordinates and tangent line equations, calculating the locus of the intersection of two moving lines.

Class ended. Perhaps because we were both tired, we walked back in silence.

Looking down from the fifth floor of the integrated building, I could see the road outside school. Under the dim streetlights, cars waiting to pick up students were stuck in traffic. Looking up, a bright full moon hung high, echoing the blooming camellias in the flowerbeds below. I held the half-can of cola, warmed by my hands, and gazed at Lingxuan (almost missing a step)—moonlight outlined her delicate face, her expression indifferent, her thoughts seemingly elsewhere, wondering if she was pondering the problems or some other questions… evolution? calculations? “self”?

Or… did she, like me, think about the other?

I didn’t know. Every time I thought I understood her well, I soon realized I didn’t know her completely. Silent, she was like a closed book, a black box, a mystery.