Chapter 44: National Good Brother

After bidding farewell to Wu Xin Yu and her mother, Chen Qiao didn’t head straight to the classroom building to find Fei Fei.
Instead, he went to the girls’ dorm area at the school’s far end.

Two rows of simple bungalows stood—white plaster walls, neat black-tiled roofs.
Rain cascaded down tile grooves, forming a water curtain.
The corridor had a row of eaves-supporting pillars, green-framed doors and windows, colorful basins and buckets outside, towels hanging in two rows.

Each dorm seemed spacious, likely housing twelve.
By the time Chen Qiao attended, these bungalows were unused, teacher dorms repurposed for students.

A welded clothes-drying pole stood in the central clearing for laundry and bedding.

The leftmost dorm was closest to the hill’s bathhouse and toilet, separated by a three-meter red brick wall built to block soil.

Last year’s minor landslide prompted terraced slopes—all feasible measures taken.
The school likely had warnings and acted, but nature didn’t always play fair.
Nagging further would annoy people, and if disaster struck, he’d be a suspect—more loss than gain.

“Sigh…” he muttered.

His only option was pestering Zhi Rou’s phone, using her as a messenger.

The junior high’s first floor held empty classrooms, piled with broken desks and chairs.
Student numbers had dwindled—twenty-five classes total, including one high school class, eight per grade.
By his year, only six per grade.

A full-length mirror at the first-to-second-floor landing let students fix their appearance.
Chen Qiao turned, eyeing his reflection, wishing to grow taller.

Fei Fei’s second-year class was on the third floor, Class 6, near the stairs.

He aimed to catch her, avoiding a miss.

As he reached the third floor, the dismissal bell rang.
Boys bolted from classrooms, racing to the cafeteria—always first at eating, as the dean once scolded.

Peeking in, he spotted Fei Fei at the fourth row, third desk, packing, and Xia Zhi Rou, head down, sneaking phone time.

Zhi Rou looked up, saw him, elbowed Fei Fei, and pointed excitedly.
“Fei Fei, isn’t that your brother?”

“What?
Why’s he here?” Fei Fei said, worried he’d been bullied again.

She hurried over.
“What’s wrong, Qiao?”

“You forgot your umbrella—I’m here to walk you home.”

Good—the rain hadn’t stopped, or he’d look silly.

“Wow, what a caring brother—so jealous,” Zhi Rou teased, genuinely envious.

Other girls crowded around, curious, asking questions.
Many locals knew Fei Fei had a brother, but over half the class was from nearby villages.

“Your real brother?”

“So cute!”

“So well-behaved—mine just annoys me.”

He was the model brother, blushing at the praise.

“Stinky brother, you know how much trouble you caused?
Endless tests!” Zhi Rou said, pinching his cheeks.

“You’ll thank me when your grades soar.”

“Zhi Rou, can we borrow your umbrella?
We can’t get home,” two day-student girls asked.

“I’d need to grab it from the dorm, but I’d get soaked without one first,” Zhi Rou said, then snapped her fingers.
“Got it!
Brother comes with me to get umbrellas, then I lend them.
Fei Fei, borrow your brother and umbrella.”

She slung an arm around him, half her soft chest pressing against him, pushing him downstairs.
Dorm mates asked her to grab theirs too.

“Wait—” Fei Fei reached, grabbing air, hands on hips, rolling her eyes.
“Why drag my brother?
Just get the umbrella yourself.”

Zhi Rou wouldn’t run off with it.

“Bold kid, coming to a middle school classroom alone,” Zhi Rou said, holding the umbrella, hugging him close to keep him dry.

“Not scared—I go to internet cafés.”

“Big talk!
What’s that mouth made of—steel?”

She stretched and squashed his lips.

“When do you bathe, Zhi Rou Sis?”

“Perverted kid, trying to peek?
I’ll tell Fei Fei!”

She squeezed him tighter, “punishing” him, pressing his face into her chest.

“Just curious about dorm life.
Might board in high school.”

“Usually evenings.
Hot days, we sweat in night study.
Don’t know about boys—some sing in the washroom, like ‘Girl Across the Way,’ loud and awful.”

He laughed dryly.
“Can’t bathe after night study?”

“Too late—not home.
Hair dries slow, no blow-dryers allowed.
Late, it’s crowded, power cuts, lights out, hot water stops mid-shower—miserable.
Bathing’s one of my few joys.”

“You’re from Hot Spring Village, right?”

“How’d you know?”

“You told me.”

“Oh, right.
We’ve got a spring at home—daily soaks, pure bliss.
Come with your sister sometime.”

“Count us in!”

A trio soak would be best—no swimsuits at home, too formal.

“Here’s my dorm,” Zhi Rou said, unlocking it, right by the bathhouse—prime spot.

Inside were three bunk beds per side, two six-door lockers, and a desk.

Lockers were small, square, all locked.

She grabbed three umbrellas from the desk drawer, handed them to him, and relocked the door—wary of thieves.

Passing the teacher dorms and kitchens, he wondered what Wu Xin Yu’s face would be like seeing him here.
No such encounter.

Back at the classroom building, Fei Fei paced the first floor, yanking him from Zhi Rou’s arm and snatching her umbrella.
“Time to go—Mom’ll worry.”

Despite his three umbrellas, Zhi Rou shared hers, pressing close.
He didn’t mind the squeeze, feeling her softness.

As they left, the rain intensified, turning diagonal with wind.

He snuggled into Fei Fei’s side, arm around her waist—too intimate for outsiders like Zhi Rou, but fine for family.

The rain worsened, trapping would-be runners at the gate.
Lucky ones joined friends, waited for family, or hoped for a break.

“What’d you and Zhi Rou talk about?” Fei Fei asked.

“She invited us to her place for hot springs.
Wanna go?”

“You want to?”

“Yeah—never been to one.”

Halfway home, the rain eased, and Mom appeared with an umbrella.

“Thought you two couldn’t make it without umbrellas, so I came.
Let’s go—Dad’s waiting for dinner.”

Rain made dirt roads treacherous; heavy trucks sank in ditches, rescue costs eating profits.
Dad drove home early.

Fei Fei took Mom’s umbrella, walking alone.

Chen Qiao folded his, slipping under hers, grabbing her arm.
“Too lazy to hold mine—yours is bigger.”

Mom smiled helplessly, saying nothing.

Kids could be demanding.

At home, they dried the umbrellas in the hall.

The sky cleared, rain stopped, blue skies with wispy clouds, air earthy, distant peaks mist-shrouded.