Xu Xiaoyan had no idea what had happened between the three of them.
All she knew was that after Tang Wulin left with Xie Xie tucked under his arm, the three figures receded farther and farther down the flagstone path. Xie Xie looked as though he had nothing left to live for, his short, brown-haired head tipping left one moment and right the next, as if he were being squeezed between two walls. His hands gestured at his sides, but they were too far away for her to make out what he was doing. Then they turned toward the training grounds.
She only remembered that when Xie Xie returned, he was utterly limp, like a motorized toy with its batteries removed.
When he pushed open the dormitory door, he crawled inside. Both hands braced against the doorframe, his knees on the floor, he inched his way in. His hair was even messier than when he had left, tufts of short brown hair sticking up here and there like a chicken's nest battered by the wind. Grass clippings and dirt clung to his uniform, and a dark, sweat-soaked patch covered his back. His face was buried in shadow, hiding his expression, but his breathing was audible.
"It hurts~ It hurts so much~"
He groaned weakly.
The sound squeezed out of his throat, hoarse and sticky, as though coated in a layer of syrup that had yet to dissolve. His fingers clutched the threshold, knuckles white, his fingertips scraping fine marks into the wood. He crawled another two steps, then stopped and lay on the floor to catch his breath.
But that was not the worst of the pain. The worst part was that they still had to attend class.
Xie Xie lay sprawled over his desk, unable to lift his head.