Notes of Youth

The school bell rang, slicing through the silence of the fifth period. Yet the air didn't feel like it usually did. It was heavy, expectant, as though the walls of the building were waiting—watching.

Lin Keqing walked down the back stairwell, each step echoing a little too loud in her ears.

In her bag: the envelope.Inside it: everything.Wanzou's notes. Fang's sketches. Chen Yuke's timeline. Names. Events. The red notebook.

It felt like holding a matchbox with a flame still alive inside.

She met the others near the side entrance to the library. Gu Yuyan leaned against a pillar, arms crossed, his uniform blazer wrinkled from rushing out of class. Chen Yuke stood still, jaw set, gaze low. Fang Zichen hadn't spoken a word since morning. Le Yahan clutched her phone, almost nervously, fingers tapping against the case.

No one smiled.

Keqing broke the silence. "They're still in the admin lounge. If we go now, we can give it directly to the ministry team before lunch ends."

Gu nodded. "Let's move."

The hallway outside the staff lounge was quiet, unnervingly so. Most students were still at lunch. The floor smelled faintly of disinfectant. A clipboard hung outside the door with names of visiting officials, their office titles neatly typed.

Keqing stepped forward.

But the door opened before she could knock.

A tall figure emerged. Stern. Familiar.

Vice Principal Qiu.

He stopped mid-stride, eyes immediately locking onto the envelope in her hands. For a brief moment, nothing moved. Even the fluorescent light above them seemed to buzz louder.

"What is that?" he asked.

Keqing tightened her grip. "Documents. Something for the visiting investigation team."

Qiu's eyes narrowed. "You students shouldn't be interrupting official inspections."

Gu stepped beside her. "It's related to what they're inspecting."

"I'm sure your class advisor can bring it up if it's that important," Qiu said flatly. "There's protocol."

"This is important," Keqing replied. "Enough that we came ourselves."

"You think you know better than the administration?" he said. "Than the people who've been protecting this school for years?"

Zichen finally spoke. "Protecting it… from the truth?"

Qiu didn't blink. "From harm. From instability. From unnecessary attention."

A low tension filled the air.

Then Qiu lowered his voice, softer, almost persuasive. "I understand your passion. I know you think you're doing the right thing. But dredging up an old case from years ago? It helps no one."

Keqing didn't respond.

"I knew Lin Wanzou too," he continued. "She was a bright girl. But she was... overzealous. Too eager to stir things. She misunderstood the system."

"She understood it," Keqing shot back. "And it turned on her."

For the first time, Qiu's expression cracked—just slightly.

"You don't understand the consequences of what you're doing," he said. "Even if you're right, you're upending lives. Teachers. Staff. Former students. Let sleeping dogs lie."

Keqing's voice came sharp: "She wasn't a dog. She was a person. And she's not sleeping."

He moved to block the door. "Hand it over."

"No," Gu said, stepping between them. "That's not yours."

Qiu's eyes turned cold. "Do you want disciplinary action? All of you?"

"You want to punish us," Chen Yuke said. "For doing what none of you had the courage to do."

Le Yahan added quietly, "Or are you afraid they'll ask why you never reported it?"

There was silence.

Then footsteps echoed behind them.

A woman in formal attire appeared, wearing a badge from the Ministry of Education. She glanced between the tense group and the vice principal.

"Is there a problem here?" she asked calmly.

Qiu turned to her, quickly smoothing his face into a professional mask. "No issue. Just… enthusiastic students handing in some old club documents."

The woman raised an eyebrow. "May I see?"

Keqing stepped forward and handed her the envelope before Qiu could stop her. Her hands didn't tremble.

"These aren't just club records," she said. "They're evidence—of a student being forced out, of misconduct, and of a history that was buried."

The official took the envelope, flipping it in her hands. She glanced at the others, then nodded. "We'll review everything carefully."

Vice Principal Qiu forced a smile. "Context is important, of course."

The woman's smile didn't reach her eyes. "So is silence."

And with that, she stepped back into the room and closed the door.

No one said anything for a long while.

Then Gu exhaled. "We did it."

"Not yet," Keqing whispered. "But we've started something."

That afternoon, the school felt different. Quieter. More watchful.

Keqing walked into the library and found the shelf again—the one where Wanzou's book had been. Empty now.

But somehow, it felt less like absence… and more like space.

A space where something used to be hidden—and now wasn't.

She placed a blank sheet of paper into the gap.

No words. Just paper.

This time, someone else could write.

But elsewhere, in the administration office, a quiet message was typed and sent across the internal network:

🔒 To all department heads:Effective immediately, submit detailed records of club activity from the past three academic years.

Do not disclose to students.

And somewhere in a private office, Qiu sat in silence.

On his desk was a phone.

The screen lit up.Incoming call: "External Affairs – Inquiry Notice"

He didn't answer right away.

But he didn't delete it either.