Lunar Diary

“A Thousand Folded Paper Stars.”

—Lunar Diary

—

A loud bang rang out, followed by several more in quick succession.

Across the river, it seemed some grand celebration was underway. As midnight approached, streams of people moved through the streets, and fireworks burst in lavish bouquets across the night sky—like a hundred flowers blooming in dazzling splendor. The vast, empty darkness was lit up as bright as day.

The fireworks blazed brilliantly, radiant and luminous.

In the hazy night, the two of them stood side by side, leaning against the railing by the river. A gentle night breeze stirred the water into ripples, the shimmering surface reflecting their silhouettes.

Qin Sang looked down. The rippling river distorted their reflections, bending and twisting them unevenly, and she suddenly drifted into thought.

Back at No. 1 High, to encourage students to strive harder, aside from the grade-wide honor roll and class rankings, each subject also had its own detailed ranking list.

In high school, due to her severe subject imbalance and her inability to keep up with the curriculum, her grades had never been good—she lingered in the lower-middle range. Thankfully, her liberal arts scores were excellent, which barely let her hold on to her spot in the experimental class. But she’d never once made it into the top hundred on the grade honor roll—even her class ranking was at the very bottom.

Xie Yuncan was different. He was practically a prodigy who could score full marks in almost every subject, which was why he’d consistently held the top spot year after year.

No wonder Tong Junjie harbored such a deep hatred for him—constantly living in someone else’s shadow. No matter how hard you tried, you could never catch up. Even if you unilaterally made him your rival, your only enemy, he didn’t even acknowledge you, didn’t even remember who you were. That… really did make it hard not to feel jealous.

Qin Sang thought that while Tong Junjie’s current state was certainly tied to his own vindictive, petty nature, when you were up against someone like Xie Yuncan—who could always outshine you no matter how hard you struggled—it was only a matter of time before you lost your mind, wasn’t it?

If you didn’t explode in silence, you’d gradually become twisted in it.

Still…

Even Xie Yuncan had his off days.

During a monthly exam in the second semester of their sophomore year, the schedule was: Chinese, math, and chemistry in the morning; English and physics in the afternoon.

The exams were scattered across different classrooms for the entire grade—only a lucky few were assigned to their own homeroom. Qin Sang and a few other experimental class students had been placed in Class 3’s room.

With their senior year fast approaching, the school had deliberately ramped up the difficulty for that month’s exam. After the final English test, students filed out of the exam halls grumbling. Even the experimental class’s top students wore unusually grim expressions, eagerly swapping answers the moment they stepped out.

“Wasn’t the third question supposed to be A?”

“How could it be A? Even though A and D are close in meaning, it’s a trap—designed to lead you astray. Old Tang specifically warned us about this when he taught that concept—don’t get caught in it. You’re done. You fell for such an obvious trick. Just wait until Old Tang drags you in for a public execution after the results come out.”

“Don’t scare me. I did terribly this time. Once the grades are out, my ranking’s definitely going to drop. My parents will nag me again. So annoying.”

“Mine wasn’t great either. Hey—”

One of the experimental class students suddenly called out to Qin Sang, who was packing up her things.

“Classmate Qin, how did you do on English this time?”

She wasn’t good at math, but her English had always been strong.

That was probably why they’d asked her.

Qin Sang answered honestly, “Pretty well.”

Although the overall difficulty of this English paper had been raised a level, the core knowledge points hadn’t changed. Flexible application could solve about eighty percent of the tricky questions. The remaining twenty percent lay in the final reading comprehension and essay—the essay prompt was particularly tricky, and the reading passage was difficult as well. Fully translating it and answering the questions according to the context wasn’t easy.

Luckily, her extracurricular reading was extensive and varied, and her overall English level was decent, so she’d managed to get through the paper fairly smoothly.

The other student had clearly bombed English and looked dejected. “I’m so jealous. I did really badly this time. Old Tang’s definitely going to chew me out. But oh well, I’m not the only one who messed up this round. I heard even Xie took a hit. Getting scolded alongside Xie doesn’t sound so bad after all.”

Hearing that, Qin Sang’s hands stilled as she packed. “A hit?”

“You didn’t know?”

The girl sighed. “He was late for the afternoon exam—didn’t even get into the room until half the English listening section was over. If it weren’t for the fact that he’s a top-tier student, the proctor probably wouldn’t have even let him in—would’ve just marked him absent, zero points.”

“But even if he did take it, what’s the point? He missed so many listening questions—his score won’t be great no matter what.”

“I’m guessing it’ll be hard for Xie to hold onto first place this time.”

The entire sophomore grade had so many students that missing half the listening section would almost certainly drop his ranking—even a one-point difference could mean losing to someone else.

That was the cruelty of competition.

“Late?” Qin Sang found it hard to believe. Xie Yuncan often left exam halls early after submitting his paper, but he’d never been late before.

“Yeah, no idea what he was up to,” the other girl said, equally puzzled, lowering her voice mysteriously. “I heard his clothes were all messed up when he came—blood on his arm, too. Maybe he got into a fight. A classmate who was in the same exam room said that right after the test, Xie was called away by Director Qiu from the discipline office. Tsk, I’d say that doesn’t bode well. You know what Director Qiu is like.”

No. 1 High had strict discipline, with tight control over students. Any violent incidents were absolutely forbidden. There’d been a case before where a Class 7 student got into a fight with a student from a neighboring vocational school and was caught red-handed by Director Qiu—and that student was immediately expelled.

So at No. 1 High, everyone avoided Director Qiu like mice avoided cats, even if they’d done nothing wrong.

Now that Xie Yuncan had been summoned by Director Qiu right after the exam, it couldn’t be anything trivial.

Qin Sang’s heart tightened with worry, though she didn’t dare show it. On her way back to the dorm after the exam, she deliberately took a detour past the discipline office. She didn’t dare get too close, just walked by the front of the building—the office was on the ground floor.

At that moment, the young man was alone in the hallway, leaning lazily against the wall. His school uniform was wrinkled somehow, with black smudges on his trousers. What was most concerning was the wound on his right elbow—it looked like the skin had been torn, still oozing blood. It seemed serious.

But he seemed completely unaware of the pain. His injured right arm hung limply, while his left hand peeled open a mint candy and popped it into his mouth. His expression was cool and distant, his emotions muted.

Qin Sang clutched her books and slowed her pace.

It was late autumn. The ginkgo trees in front of the discipline building had turned golden, and the wind scattered fallen leaves across the ground.

Each step on the dry leaves made a faint crunch. Even moving carefully, it was hard not to make any sound.

Suddenly, the office door opened and Director Qiu stepped out. “I’ve got the full story now. Grandma Li said she called for help, and you went over to catch the thief, which made you late for the exam.”

“Though it was to save someone, in the future, if something like this happens, it’s best to seek help from adults first. Don’t rush in alone. Before helping others, you need to make sure you’re safe. Look—luckily the knife didn’t hit anything vital. But if something had gone wrong, what would your parents do?”

Xie Yuncan curled his lips in a sardonic smile and didn’t respond.

“Of course,” Director Qiu’s usually stern face softened into a pleased smile, “it’s good that you have such a warm heart and are willing to help. At next Monday’s flag-raising assembly, the school will give you special commendation and recognition.”

“Don’t just stand here—go to the school clinic and have Teacher Wen clean that wound for you. Later, I’ll take you to the hospital. That gash looks deep—you might need stitches. If it gets infected, it’ll be a problem.”

Qin Sang didn’t dare look up, only sneaking glances from the corner of her eye.

The young man still had that cool, indifferent air—as if the injured person weren’t him at all. He gave a lazy reply to Director Qiu’s words.

Suddenly, his gaze shifted. Whether he’d seen her or not, his glance was fleeting, not lingering.

She held her breath, quickened her pace, and hurried away, leaving only the fallen yellow leaves swirling in the wind.

Later, at the Monday flag-raising assembly, he was indeed publicly commended for his act of courage. Even the local TV station came to cover the story—but he seemed uninterested, and the school declined on his behalf, citing the heavy workload and pressure on soon-to-be senior students.

He didn’t come to school that week. Word was his wound had become infected, and since it was on his right hand—already weakened from a previous injury—the new cut had left his right arm completely unable to exert strength.

Xie Yuncan was cool toward most people at school, but he was close with Jiang Mingyi—they’d grown up together in the same compound, so they were tight.

She often heard others asking Jiang Mingyi about Xie Yuncan’s condition. She wanted to know too, but she had no excuse. Perhaps in his eyes, she wasn’t even a real classmate—if she suddenly showed concern, it would seem odd.

“Brother Jiang, how’s Xie really doing? He hasn’t come to school for days. His hand isn’t permanently damaged, is it? We’re about to start senior year—if he’s crippled, that’s over.”

Jiang Mingyi kicked the guy. “Fuck off, who are you cursing? Your hand would be crippled before his.”

“So he’s fine?”

Jiang Mingyi’s expression dimmed. “He just went to the PLA Hospital for a check-up a couple days ago. We won’t know for sure until the wound heals a bit and he does a few days of rehab to see how recovery goes. He probably won’t be able to come to school for a while.”

“Oh.” The guy scratched his head. “Probably for the best—saves him the headache. The monthly exam results are coming out in a few days. Xie missed part of the test, and that dumbass Tong Junjie has been running his mouth everywhere, saying Xie’s going to lose his top spot.”

It wasn’t just Tong Junjie—almost everyone thought so, since Xie Yuncan had missed the exam and lost most of the listening section, which would definitely cost him points.

Tong Junjie was genuinely hardworking and diligent—he just always fell short by a little, earning him the nickname “Eternal Second.” This time, with Xie Yuncan missing the listening section, he was happier than anyone. After estimating his own score, he was convinced he’d finally beat Xie Yuncan and get some real satisfaction.

Jiang Mingyi frowned. “Don’t mention that sore loser. His dad’s honest and decent, so how did he end up with such a screwed-up son? Always with that long face, acting like everyone owes him something. Every time I see him, I want to punch him.”

The head of the Xie family had been too merciful, letting their family move into the compound in the first place. Ever since then, Tong Junjie had been losing it—staring at them with that gloomy expression, as if they owed him some great debt.

If they tried to include him, he thought they were mocking him. If they didn’t, he thought they looked down on him and were deliberately isolating him.

You even had to watch what you said around him, so you wouldn’t hurt his fragile, oversensitive pride.

Jiang Mingyi hated that wishy-washy, petty personality.

God, so much drama.

The Xie family had never treated him badly. His family was doing well—not rich, but comfortably better off than many. His parents doted on him, and even the head of the Xie household was good to him.

Tong Junjie had it better than Xie Yuncan, the actual grandson. What more did he want?

The one who should be having issues wasn’t having any, while the one who shouldn’t was acting like a full-blown antisocial personality, causing trouble every damn day.

“Brother Jiang, how about we skip class and go see Xie? Old Deng’s class is next anyway—you know how boring his lectures are, they make my eyes spin. Let’s go now, sneak out the back.”

“What are you thinking?” Jiang Mingyi was a bit of a rascal, but he had some principles. “Who do you take me for? Am I the type to skip class?”

The guy he’d smacked on the back of the head rubbed the sore spot, looking aggrieved. “You skip class plenty. Weren’t you just caught by Director Qiu a couple days ago?”

“Then why’d you bring it up? You know Qiu the Bloodsucker’s got his eyes on your daddy. If I get caught again, he’ll definitely call my dad. You trying to get me killed?”

“Of course not.” The guy grinned slyly. “I know a perfect spot—definitely won’t get caught. There’s a dog hole in the back wall. We can crawl out through there—Qiu the Bloodsucker would never guess.”

Jiang Mingyi swore: “Get lost. You’re the one crawling through dog holes.”

For all his talk of not sneaking out, as soon as Old Deng’s last class started, Jiang Mingyi and that classmate were already gone.

That year, for some reason, a fad for folding paper stars swept through the other classes. For a while, just about everyone—boys and girls—was folding them during breaks.

Liu Chengcheng dragged her to the convenience store to buy a star jar and colorful strips of folding paper. “Sang Sang, aren’t you getting any? I heard it really works—if you make a wish every time you fold one, and fill up a thousand stars, your wish will come true.”

A wish come true?

Qin Sang thought for a moment, then bought a stack of paper strips and a star jar anyway.

For the next few days, she folded every day after class. At first, her stars weren’t very neat, but she got more practiced, and soon she was folding faster.

In the end, she folded a full thousand stars.

Each one carried a girl’s sincerest hope.

“Hope Xie Yuncan averts disaster and recovers soon.”

“Hope everything goes well for Xie Yuncan, and that he’s always happy.”

“Hope his monthly exam results go smoothly, with no more accidents.”

Maybe the folded stars really were that powerful—it seemed her wishes had come true.

On results day, the grade honor roll was posted on the bulletin board as usual, but the top hundred had undergone a major reshuffle.

Qin Sang found her name in the bottom fifty—and Xie Yuncan…

“How can this be? No way!” Tong Junjie, wearing glasses, turned pale. “I don’t believe it! Something’s wrong! His grades are fake!”

“Bullshit!” Jiang Mingyi stood with one hand in his pocket, the other holding a basketball. “Who the hell is faking grades? Say that again, I dare you.”

Tong Junjie was gaunt, with glasses that made him look even more sullen. “Did I say something wrong? Everyone in the whole sophomore year knows Xie Yuncan missed the English listening section. How can he still be first? If that’s not grade-faking, what is? Oh—”

He let out a sinister laugh. “You rich people really are different. With a little manipulation, you can just take what was meant for someone else.”

Jiang Mingyi hurled the ball at him, his face taut. “Shut your filthy mouth. Don’t think I won’t hit you.”

“Calm down, Brother Jiang! Getting a demerit for a scumbag like him isn’t worth it!”

The other guys held Jiang Mingyi back.

Tong Junjie laughed in a twisted way. “What are you acting tough for, Jiang Mingyi? Wasn’t it you crawling on the ground after getting beaten for skipping class a couple days ago?”

“Was it you?” Jiang Mingyi instantly caught on. “You snitched to my dad? Fuck, are you sick or something? How old are you, still pulling this shit? Disgusting.”

“Disgusting? You’re the disgusting ones. You can just erase all the hard work ordinary people put into getting ahead. Xie Yuncan rigged the results, used his power to suppress others. It’s just a monthly exam, and he’s already this brazen—what’s he going to do in the real world?”

The surrounding students fell silent. Some frowned, but in the end, no one spoke up.

“Do you have proof?”

A clear female voice cut through the crowd.

Qin Sang had been looking at the honor roll, the secret joy in her eyes not yet hidden, when she heard Tong Junjie spouting nonsense.

She pressed her lips together, brow furrowed. “What right do you have to spread rumors and stir up trouble here? You’ve lost to Xie Yuncan more times than you can count. That he can still take first place despite missing the listening section is his ability. That you can’t is your incompetence. What gives you the right to blame your own failure on others? Is it because you’re that kind of person that you habitually project your own narrow-mindedness onto others?”

“Grades are public and transparent. Subject papers will be handed back soon. Do you think everyone’s an idiot who can’t spot anything fishy? It’s just one monthly exam—even if you fail, you can try again. Why would anyone take such a huge risk to fabricate grades?”

“Not everyone is as sore a loser as you. Classmate Xie is far more generous-hearted than you.”

That was the first time she’d ever said so much in front of others.

Her hands were trembling, but her gaze was steady.

The commotion eventually reached the teachers. As she’d said, every subject’s scores were transparent. To quell unnecessary speculation, Xie Yuncan’s papers were circulated for public viewing.

Yes, he’d lost many points on the listening section—but he’d scored full marks in every other subject. And because this month’s exam was so difficult, the overall grade average had dropped. Only Xie Yuncan had performed steadily, as always.

In class, Old Tang made a pointed remark: “Some students need to adjust their mindset. I’ve told you many times—the gaokao is ultimately about mentality. With a good mindset, you can approach it correctly and achieve better results. Don’t get arrogant during exams, and even on questions you’re confident about, check them carefully. Don’t lose points through carelessness.”

Tong Junjie was strong in math, but this time he’d lost many points due to carelessness—calculation errors in the last two big questions cost him, not to mention English, his weak subject. His reading comprehension was a disaster, and his essay was worse.

He had nothing to say, no way to defend himself or malign others again.

Qin Sang had always thought of herself as a timid coward.

She’d never dared to show her feelings even a little.

But that year, even the coward was brave for once.

In broad daylight, before everyone, she’d stood up for the person she liked.

—

When Qin Sang looked up, she saw the trails of fading fireworks across the night sky, like the tails of shooting stars.

She’d once folded a thousand paper stars, wishing for him to overcome misfortune and have everything go smoothly.

Now, at last, she had the chance to stand beside him and openly voice her wishes.

“Classmate Xie,” she said, a soft smile curving her lips, her voice gentle. “Look how beautiful the fireworks are. After the clouds part, the moon appears. So surely, you’ll turn your luck around, hit rock bottom, and bounce back.”