Chapter 46: Taking Out the Trash Together

During a time when they were supposed to be in class, wandering outside the classroom felt oddly exhilarating.

As they walked along the corridor, the sounds of students reading aloud from various classrooms echoed around them.

Chen Shian and Lin Mengqiu carried the trash bin together, descending the stairs on the left side and exiting through the first-floor door. They soon found themselves on the school pathway leading to the north gate.

This pathway was straight and quiet, with three teaching buildings lining its right side and a wall to the left, beyond which lay the world outside the school.

Compared to the bustling main road that led to the school’s main gate, this path felt especially tranquil.

The morning mist had yet to fully disperse, but soft golden sunlight already spilled over the wall, casting pools of warm light upon the path.

A row of camphor trees grew along the wall, their leaves rustling in the cool breeze; the grass on either side of the path was still wet from watering, delicate droplets clinging to each blade, refracting tiny rainbows in the morning light.

Now and then, a few sparrows would flit up from the tree branches and perch atop the wall, cocking their little heads as if listening to something unknown. Occasionally, one would lift a wing to preen its feathers, the small flock rising and falling, squabbling playfully amongst themselves.

Chen Shian and Lin Mengqiu walked together through this serene morning scene, still holding the trash bin between them.

“This path is beautiful. I’ve never walked this way before.”

Chen Shian ambled along at a leisurely pace, his gaze wandering contentedly over the landscape. Discovering this secluded corner of the campus felt to him much like finding a hidden stream in the mountains.

…

Certain he was merely talking to himself, Lin Mengqiu made no reply.

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, then followed his gaze to the top of the wall, where several sparrows perched. One held a grasshopper in its beak, but it didn’t eat it—teasing the plump, chattering fledglings beside it.

“That’s a White-capped Sparrow. The one with the grasshopper is the mother; the others are chicks that have just left the nest. She’s teaching them how to find food.”

…

Lin Mengqiu’s gaze shifted from the sparrows back to Chen Shian’s face, a little surprised. He hadn’t even looked at her—how did he know she was watching the birds, or that she was curious?

She decided to ignore him.

He was probably just talking to himself again.

But after a few more steps, unable to resist, she finally asked, “How did you know?”

“I see them often in the mountains. White-capped Sparrows like to build nests in cracks in rock faces, holes in house walls, and gaps in stone walls. Every year we find their nests at our temple.”

…

Lin Mengqiu thought to herself, Your temple must be pretty run-down, then, to have so many holes and cracks for birds to nest in…

“White-capped Sparrow?” she asked softly.

“Yeah, that’s what we call them in the local dialect. Some people call them White-faced Sparrows.”

“And that one?”

She didn’t point, just nodded subtly toward a certain spot.

Chen Shian, however, knew exactly which bird she meant.

“That’s a Rustic Thrush. They’re the noisiest in the mornings and evenings.”

…

Lin Mengqiu wondered how he recognized so many birds.

She’d never heard of a White-capped Sparrow before, but ‘Rustic Thrush’ sounded familiar, though she’d never known what one looked like. Now, thanks to his explanation, she realized she’d seen them before—she’d just never paid them any attention.

A memory surfaced: as a child, she’d visited her father’s rural hometown. He would take her out for walks, pointing out birds, trees, and wild fruits, explaining everything in the local dialect, his voice full of nostalgia.

It was her first trip to the countryside, her first time seeing a cow.

A living cow.

There were yellow cattle and large water buffaloes—the latter looked intimidating, but her father insisted they were the gentlest of creatures.

He spoke of all these things fondly, naming birds and wild fruits as if listing treasures, using the dialect of his youth, memories woven through every word.

To her, everything seemed novel and strange, yet somehow distant from her own life.

She’d never imagined that someone her own age, like Chen Shian, could rattle off the same knowledge as if reciting a familiar poem.

As these memories washed over her, Lin Mengqiu tried to find the right words:

“Do you know this wild fruit? It grows in fields and along footpaths… red and round… with little spines… it tastes tart and sweet…”

The memory was hazy, lost in time. All she recalled, aside from the mosquito bites on her legs, was the vivid impression of that tangy-sweet fruit.

“Wild brambleberry?”

“!”

Chen Shian’s words instantly brought back the memory of her father’s voice: “These are wild brambleberries. When I was a boy, I craved these more than anything. They only ripen in March and April. See—these green ones aren’t ready; the red ones are ripe. The dark-colored ones are the sweetest. Try one…”

“Wild brambleberry… so that’s what it’s called…” Lin Mengqiu nodded, almost to herself.

“You’ve tasted them?” Chen Shian asked.

“Yes.”

She was never one to talk much—she only answered what she was asked, never volunteering more. That she’d spoken ‘so much’ with him was likely due to being out of the classroom, the two of them alone on the campus path, the space wide open, the morning air fresh and pleasant—a rare moment of ease.

Yet she hadn’t noticed that this morning, walking with Chen Shian to take out the trash, she’d moved more slowly than she ever had with any other classmate—except for the short walk right after leaving the classroom.

It was already class time.

Lin Mengqiu came to her senses.

He must have slowed her down with his dawdling pace. After all, they were carrying the trash bin together; if he dragged his feet, what could she do?

His grades were already so poor, yet he didn’t seem eager to get back to class and study… Never mind, she’d just dock him a point for it!

After much dawdling, the two finally reached the school’s north gate.

The north gate was much smaller than the main entrance; teachers and students usually called it the back door.

In daily life, it was always kept closed, only opened for delivery trucks—those bringing food to the cafeteria, or the garbage truck.

The garbage station was beside the north gate. With all the waste the school generated, the garbage station obviously couldn’t be set up near the teaching buildings. Here, two sanitation workers were shoveling trash, sorting out recyclable cardboard and plastic bottles for a bit of extra income.

The school assigned staff to manage the area morning and evening, so it was never truly filthy, but as a collection point for waste, the air still carried a sour stench, and dark streaks of garbage water stained the cement ground.

Lin Mengqiu didn’t cover her nose, but her brows furrowed involuntarily as she held her breath.

Chen Shian seemed completely unfazed. Since Lin Mengqiu said nothing, he didn’t take over the task; instead, they carried the bin together to the garbage station, lifting and emptying it into the pit.

With a loud crash, wrappers, crumpled paper, empty bottles, used notebooks, and even someone’s unfinished instant noodles tumbled out. The soggy noodles and soup dripped slowly down the side of the bin, refusing to dry up.

Lin Mengqiu’s face turned pale.

Chen Shian rather admired her—for he knew that she’d been holding her breath ever since they neared the garbage station, yet she hadn’t let go and left him to manage alone. She’d stubbornly kept her grip, her face turning blue, determined to see the task through. What kind of spirit was this?

Seeing that she might suffocate if she didn’t breathe soon, Chen Shian finally spoke up, “Let me do it.”

He tugged at the bin, but her small hand still clung tightly to the handle.

Only when the last drop of noodle soup had drained did Lin Mengqiu finally give in.

The ever-elegant girl turned into a startled rabbit, nimbly hopping to avoid the dirty water on the cement. In a blink, she’d darted to a cleaner spot, gulping in fresh air.

Chen Shian deftly upended the bin, tapping it on the edge of the garbage pit until the last scraps fell out.

“Auntie, there are a lot of bottles here.”

“Oh! Thank you, young man!”

Lin Mengqiu, looking like a little whale coming up for air, took another deep breath and returned.

She reached for the bin’s other handle, and, unable to speak while holding her breath, simply pointed to the faucet beside the garbage station.

“Want to wash the bin?” Chen Shian asked.

…Lin Mengqiu nodded.

Together, they carried the bin to the faucet.

A rubber hose was attached to the tap. When Chen Shian turned it on, the water came out fast, the hose writhing like a wild snake.

Lin Mengqiu jumped back in alarm, rabbit-like once more, but, thankfully, avoided getting sprayed. Holding her breath, she shot Chen Shian a fierce glare.

“Sorry, did I get you wet? Let me handle it…”

…

This time, Lin Mengqiu stayed out of the way—there was only one hose, after all, and someone had to do the washing.

Chen Shian was clearly practiced; the large trash bin seemed easily managed in his hands. He rinsed the inside, then flipped it to clean the outside.

Lin Mengqiu was surprised—was he really that skilled? A simple rinse, and even the oldest grime washed away.

Before she could ponder further, Chen Shian’s question brought her back.

“Want to wash your hands?”

…

Stepping forward, she bent slightly and offered her pale, delicate hands.

Chen Shian turned the water down to a gentle stream, letting it flow softly over her skin.

Lin Mengqiu scrubbed her hands clean, the cool water soothing her. She imagined all the invisible germs being washed away, and her furrowed brow finally relaxed.

Afterward, she wanted to reciprocate by holding the hose for Chen Shian, but he declined, managing deftly with both hands.

Her hand, extended in a silent offer, withdrew unnoticed.

No tacit understanding at all.

When she reached out again, she held a tissue.

“Thank you, class monitor,” Chen Shian said, smiling as he took it, wiped his hands, and, imitating her, wrapped the tissue around the trash bin handle.

“Shall we go back?” he asked.

…Lin Mengqiu nodded.

Once out of the foul-smelling area, she finally spoke a complete sentence after holding her breath for so long:

“Next time it’s our duty, make sure you come earlier.”

“Got it—”