Today was the first day of summer vacation, Saturday, June 18, 2089. It was sunny, with an outdoor temperature of 32℃.
Simon arrived at the school gate. This might be the last time he stepped foot here. It wasn't until he walked on the tree-lined path leading to the Comprehensive Building (Comprehensive Building) that he realized he had truly graduated.
Many graduates of the same year stood in front of the auditorium. They weren't wearing school uniforms but their favorite clothes. It was rare to be able to do this; normally, wearing school uniforms and red scarves, their ugly and clumsy appearance was truly disheartening. At last, they wouldn't be lectured by the teachers here anymore.
Simon saw Meng Qijun. She stood at the edge of the crowd, under the shadow of a camphor tree, with dappled light spilling onto her white long dress. Though she was a small girl, she exuded a gentle and elegant charm.
Simon walked over with a grin, exclaiming, "Wow, isn't this our genius beautiful girl, student Meng Qijun! What are you doing at school today? Are you here to see your dear and wise senior?"
Meng Qijun murmured softly, "Simon, I came to ask you which junior high school you're going to."
Simon scratched his belly, "Oh, that's right. Zhang Yingxuan and I discussed going to Ninghu Middle School over by Luoshan. Do you know it?"
Meng Qijun kept her head down, her hands clasped behind her back. She wasn't wearing a hat, so her soft black long hair hung loose. A sudden gust of unruly wind blew, and the girl's face was obscured by her disheveled hair. She frantically reached up to gather the flying strands, like parting a cloud of Mo Yun, revealing her flushed red cheeks.
Seeing her clumsiness, Simon reached out to help her pull all her hair back to the nape of her neck.
Meng Qijun held her hair with her right hand, while her left hand waved continuously in front of her, taking two steps back. "Student Simon, you are really ill-mannered." She couldn't help but say it a little louder, her sharp voice like the crackling static of a radio. Meng Qijun herself was startled, and her left hand quickly pulled back to cover her mouth, looking very dejected.
Simon burst into laughter, rubbing her head and messing up her carefully arranged hair again. "Xiao Lu."
"Simon! You're bullying a classmate again!" Su Xiangli charged from behind, leaping up and hooking her arm around Xiao Lu's neck. The girl was an early developer, only slightly shorter than Simon, so hooking his neck didn't make Simon feel stifled.
Simon crouched slightly, and with a backward hook of his arms, he carried Su Xiangli on his back. Su Xiangli shrieked, and Simon, grinning, bounced around carrying the girl, drawing glances from classmates. Familiar friends surged over.
Someone said, "Zhu Bajie carrying his wife!" (Pigsy carrying his wife!)
Then everyone started shouting, "Zhu Bajie carrying his wife!"
Su Xiangli, mortified, buried her face in Simon's shoulder, tightly hugging the boy's neck. "Simon, just die!!!"
Meng Qijun retreated, moving behind the tree. She touched her throat, looking in Simon's direction. An unspeakable pang of sadness suddenly welled up in her heart as she watched the spirited boy carrying the tall and graceful girl.
Why?
She couldn't say, couldn't understand. She just wanted to follow that boy, that warm and sunny, yet unattainable, him.
...
At the graduation ceremony, the seventy-something-year-old Principal stood on stage, his first sentence being, "I will only say three things."
Then the second sentence: "Happy graduation, students!"
Everyone applauded enthusiastically.
The third sentence: "To all the subject teachers, the Dean of Students, all the cadres, leaders, and staff of our school, another six years have passed, and another group of lovely students has graduated. We see all your efforts and hard work, and here, we sincerely say, you've worked hard!"
Everyone applauded enthusiastically again.
The fourth sentence: "I wish all graduates a bright future and promising prospects!"
The Principal elegantly left the stage, and the students clapped so hard they almost broke their palms.
Next to speak was the Dean of Students, a greasy middle-aged man. His first sentence was, "I will talk about two things."
Then, those two things were divided into four or five points, and he even added one more thing at the end, speaking for a total of forty minutes.
Simon heard a few male teachers whispering in the corner of the auditorium.
A science teacher surnamed Shao, who wished to remain anonymous: "The Dean of Students' skill gets more profound every year!"
A physical education teacher surnamed Yuan, who wished to remain anonymous: "As expected of a middle-aged man, eh, I heard he's already bald."
A Chinese Language teacher surnamed Zhao, who wished to remain anonymous: "No way? His hair looks very thick."
Shao: "I know about that. His hair on the left is long, so he combs it to the right to cover the top."
Yuan: "Yes, I heard he had three hair transplants, and they all failed. The most successful one stayed on his head for about eight months."
Zhao: "No wonder he always has that three-seven parted, slicked-back hair."
"Hehehe."
"Hahahaha."
"Gagaga."
Upon hearing this, Simon immediately understood. Looking at the endlessly talking Dean of Students on stage, and remembering his own few disappointing achievements, a sense of pride, of strong individuals appreciating each other, spontaneously arose.
Brave young Lu, march boldly towards the destiny of baldness!
Su Xiangli poked Simon's ribs. "You're spacing out again."
"I'm thinking about what to eat for lunch."
"Did you come up with anything?"
"It's too hot to eat much. Want some shaved ice? My treat."
...
After the graduation ceremony, Simon distributed his drawings and walked out of the auditorium with Su Xiangli, Zhang Yingxuan, and Zhou Ping. He didn't see Meng Qijun, presumably she had already left. Simon sent her an email, telling her to be careful on her way home.
The graduates, either in small groups or with their parents, accompanied by robots, slowly walked out of the school gate. When they looked back, the gate was still open, but everyone knew they might never step foot inside again.
Su Xiangli, wearing an orange short-sleeved shirt, suddenly felt a bit cold. She hugged her arms, moved closer to Simon, and sighed, "You bad boy, we really graduated."
Zhang Yingxuan used a handheld electric fan to cool himself down. "Finally free! Let's hurry and get some shaved ice, it's so hot."
Zhou Ping shushed him, scolding, "Hey, you're such a downer. This is supposed to be a melancholic moment!"
Simon shook his head, chanting, "Youth knows not the taste of sorrow; to compose new verses, he feigns sorrow. Don't be so sentimental, Su Xiangli, you're a little piglet, nah nah nah." He took off running, and Su Xiangli cried out, chasing him. Once they left, Zhou Ping and Zhang Yingxuan also started running, faster and faster, weaving through the city's straight streets. Countless glass skyscrapers shimmered with pure, glazed light, the sunny day illuminated the earth, and childhood and youth shouted, "Long Live!"
...
Two hours later, the four children sat in a row at the cold drink shop counter, holding their shaved ice.
"The cantaloupe one is delicious."
"The red bean one is even better."
"I don't believe you, unless you feed me." Su Xiangli opened her mouth.
Simon scooped a spoonful and held it out to her. The girl leaned in like a fish taking bait, gently sipped the red bean shaved ice, and smiled happily, "It's delicious, you win."
Zhou Ping asked Zhang Yingxuan, "Why did you buy two lemon-flavored ones? They're so sour."
"It's summer, so it needs to be refreshingly cool, of course."
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