The first thing Zhou Yuanyuan ever said to Zhao Jiashu was,"There's an underground kingdom beneath this tree, where many little people live."
It was early spring — the kind of day when winter still lingered in the air, though the sun shone bright and soft.The children of Class Three had just woken from their afternoon nap and scattered onto the playground, free at last to roam.
Beneath a tall camphor tree, a little girl crouched alone.Her twin braids had come undone, her corduroy jacket was smudged with dirt, and a pair of floral cloth sleeves wrapped loosely around her arms.
She stared at the tree as she spoke, her black-and-white eyes gleaming with quiet excitement.Her tone was calm, matter-of-fact — as if she were simply telling the truth, not even really talking to Jiashu.
Jiashu had wandered here by accident while playing hide-and-seek. Curious, he asked,"An underground kingdom? What do you mean?"
Yuanyuan's eyes never left the tree as she began to explain, slow and serious.She said the kingdom was home to countless invisible little people — some hidden deep in the soil, others with tiny wings that let them drift through the air, unseen.
Then she stood up and taught him how to squint at the sun.
Jiashu squinted, and the sunlight turned red.Countless glowing particles spun and danced in front of his eyes, like tiny stars swirling in daylight.
From somewhere far away, someone was calling,"Jiashu, are you done hiding?"The voice sounded distant, as if coming from another world.
Yuanyuan asked softly,"Did you see them? Those shining specks — they're the little people from the underground kingdom."Her voice was clear, as if she were standing right beside him.
When Jiashu opened his eyes, Yuanyuan had crouched back under the tree. She waved him over."Do you want to go into the underground kingdom? The entrance is right here, under this tree."
He walked to her side and crouched down.
Later, whenever Jiashu thought back to that time, it always felt like a dream.Day after day, he followed behind Yuanyuan like her shadow, circling the tree, digging into the soil, searching for the hidden entrance.They built tiny homes for the little people out of pebbles and twigs.
One afternoon, a classmate brought in a cream cake for their birthday.The whole class sat in a circle around the cake, clapping their hands and singing the birthday song —a simple, sweet moment, bright and warm like the spring light.
Suddenly, Zhou Yuanyuan leaned close to Jiashu's ear and whispered,"The little people are hiding behind the bench. Let's leave them something to eat."
As soon as she finished, she darted off while the teacher's back was turned, swiping a dollop of cream from the cake.She dashed back, tucking herself behind the small bench, her cheeks flushed bright red with excitement.
Jiashu didn't hesitate. He copied her, sneaking toward the cake just as she had — but the moment he swiped the cream and turned to run, the teacher caught him red-handed.
That day, for the first time — and the only time in his life — Jiashu was made to stand in the corner.Right beside Zhou Yuanyuan.
When Zhao Jiashu entered first grade, he ran into Zhou Yuanyuan at school, and recalling their time in kindergarten, he felt like he could die from embarrassment.
Yuanyuan's braids had grown longer, and she was a little taller, though still thin and pale.She stood alone at the stairwell, practicing with a jump rope.Her rhythm was off, and she couldn't quite sync the rope and her jumps together.She stumbled and hopped, looking like a clumsy sparrow with a broken leg.
She seemed indifferent, neither really jumping nor not jumping, her gaze blank, staring off into some unknown direction.Suddenly, her eyes lit up when she spotted Jiashu.His face flushed instantly, and before she could call his name, he spun around without a second thought and walked away.
He carried a stack of neatly gathered homework books as he walked toward the office, his arm adorned with fresh green stripes. His white shirt, white sneakers, and even the green scarf — carefully pressed by his mom before he left the house — made him look pristine.
Just having entered elementary school, Jiashu had already earned his two stripes, and his competitive nature began to emerge. He liked to challenge himself, refusing to stop until he topped every subject.
Halfway through the term, he became the flag bearer. Standing on the flag-raising platform, he didn't need to make a special effort to look. It was easy to spot Zhou Yuanyuan, standing in the front row.
She was different from the others. Every pair of eyes was fixed on the flag slowly rising, but hers was the only head hanging down, her eyes staring absently at the cracked patterns on the cement playground.
For a moment, even Jiashu was lost in thought. He couldn't help but wonder — could there really be little people jumping inside those cracks?
Snapping out of it, he grew frustrated with himself. She had made him act oddly too.
Zhou Yuanyuan really wasn't quite normal.
She was in Class 1(2) downstairs from him. During breaks or lunch, Jiashu accidentally ran into her a few times. She was always alone, crouched in a corner, using a stick to draw random patterns in the cinder-filled ground at the edge of the playground, or picking up fallen fruits from the tree, arranging them one by one in neat rows.
Sometimes, when Jiashu passed by her classroom window on his way to PE class, he would see her sitting alone at a single desk by the teacher's podium. Suddenly, the tip of the teacher's ruler would tap her on the head, and she would stand up instinctively, but it took a few seconds before she seemed to snap back to reality, as though her soul had been wandering somewhere else.
Jiashu thought she was a bit like Sun Wukong from Journey to the West, standing or sitting was just a physical body; her soul, he imagined, might have flown off somewhere far away.
Zhou Yuanyuan didn't actually mind playing with everyone. During PE, when both classes joined together for free play, the girls often lacked a volunteer to help them with their rubber band skipping. Occasionally, they would wave her over, asking her to hold the rubber bands for them.
Jiashu watched her, her legs clasped around the rubber bands, standing stiffly like a clay figurine, as if terrified of making a mistake. She smiled, her face showing an expression that seemed a mix of flattered surprise and overwhelming nervousness.
But most of the time, she was still by herself.
On the way home from school, Zhou Yuanyuan was lost in thought. As she walked, the opening of her schoolbag broke, and something fell out. She didn't notice, and all along the way, things kept dropping.
Jiashu saw it but pretended not to. His brow furrowed, unsure whether he disliked her or disliked himself. Without thinking, he turned and took a different path.
He didn't really understand why he always felt compelled to pay attention to her.