Ning Wugou’s school uniform was always stained with marks that wouldn’t wash out, until Xia Ci’an held down his hands, scrubbed pale, on a rainy evening.
“Stop scrubbing.” Xia Ci’an draped a brand-new shirt over his shoulders. “You’re cleaner than any of them.”
During the first semester of senior year, Ning Wugou lived in the shadow of his stepfather and his mother’s silence.
Xia Ci’an was top of the school, and the only person who, after spotting the bruises on Ning Wugou’s sleeve, silently offered him a bandage.
When Ning Wugou hid in a bathroom stall to eat cold leftovers, Xia Ci’an knocked and passed in a hot bun. “Let’s make a deal. I’ll help you study, and you’ll eat with me.”
When Ning Wugou fainted during a blood test, he woke to find a cartoon bandage carefully stuck over the needle mark.
Then one day, when his stepfather’s fist came down again, Ning Wugou shakily dialed the first cry for help of his life.
Twenty minutes later, Xia Ci’an rushed into the alley, soaked with rain, with two lawyers and four police officers behind him.
“Don’t be afraid.” The boy shielded him and coldly announced to his stunned stepfather, “From today on, he’s under my protection.”
