I sketched her head on the drawing board in a rustling manner. For the first time, I willfully watched every soft curve on her face from a close distance, and I felt that my face burned first. Beneath her long, curved eyebrows were her mother's somewhat sunken and brown eyes, like a spring in the morning mist. On the bridge of her straight nose, there was a small round tip as if budding. Her lips were full and soft, and when she concentrated, the upper lip rose slightly as if unable to conceal the radiance of youth. Her almond-like, youthful face was bright and sun-brown. I really wanted to draw a beanie for the finishing touch, but I was afraid of losing Donna's reward, so I gave up the prank.
I was admiring her while drawing every detail, and at some point, Siyan came in and stood behind me until he said, "Wait!" He walked up to Donna, put her hands on her cheeks, turned it at an angle, and got out of his pocket a small red flower and placed it on her head. Then he said to me, "Draw it on. This is perfect."
After finishing the last stroke hastily, I handed the drawing to Donna and was about to leave. Donna stopped me and gave me an envelope. When I came out, I was a little disappointed. Seeing Donna gladly accept Siyan's touch, I wondered, "are the rumors true? Were they in love?" Until now, I seemed to realize that I was attracted to Donna.
I often wanted to see her throughout the spring then didn't want to see her, and I was conflicted. What was calling me from a distance was like a mystery, waiting for me to discover and be a part of my growing life. There was nothing in this jungle, no one could stop my belief, and the days without Donna might be less constrained. Siyan was a poet, born for romantic women, and he was my good teacher and friend. I wanted to bless him. Why would I fight with him? Despite this, I always looked for opportunities to get close to her countless times, and I couldn't help myself.
***
During the spring militia training camp, I learned that Donna's shooting performance was the best in her company, so I forced myself to work hard to become the best in the battalion headquarters and finally earned the opportunity to do the final training with her. She was so eye-catching that I didn't dare to get too close to her most of the time, considering the fear of people's bitter words. At most, I merely said hello to her or exchanged a smile with her, and then a trace of sweetness passed through my heart.
The female players were lying on the grass to practice aiming at the target, becoming a beautiful landscape. The male players gathered behind, pointing and gulping. I stood far away, with only Donna in my eyes. I thought she was the most charming one.
Dagui was in charge of the warehouse nearby. He heard that the women were on the ground, scratching their heads and making gestures. He didn't want to miss the moment, and sneaked over. He saw his girlfriend lying there too, her waist and hips as round as a small mound. Compared with Donna beside her, the visual difference was too significant. He suddenly lost control of his emotions and blurted at his girlfriend in front of everyone, "Get up. You look like a pig on your stomach!" His girlfriend got up, threw the gun at his feet, and ran away crying. Of course, their love affair ended there.
"It's all Donna's fault," Dagui explained.
Donna and I were the last two to enter the target shooting final, and the winner would have the honor of participating in the division's competition. I deliberately played a low ring for Donna and gave her the opportunity. In fact, with Donna's strength, she could take the first place anyway. It was just my wishful thinking. I was happy to do something for her. My father even criticized me for not trying hard enough because I lost the first place.
Before the class bell rang early the next morning, the students chased after each other on the playground. I saw Jialin Chen and the principal talking there, so I went to say hello to her. As soon as she saw me, she said, "Yesterday, I was drawing on the ground with branches by the fish pond, and your father passed by and asked me why I was there, and he had forgotten that he sent me there. Yes, your dad asked me what I like to do, and I said a teacher. Look, I'm reporting to school today."
The principal asked me to help Jialin pick up her belongings from the Animal Husbandry Company. I was happy to do that, so I followed her joyfully, crossed the bridge, walked along the river through the wild banana bushes, came to the Maintenance Company, asked for a carriage tractor, and sat staggeringly on it, heading for the Animal Husbandry Company.
I admired Jialin, a talented woman from Beijing. You could see her gift in the reports she wrote, her words, and her brows and infectious gestures. However, she also had an aggressive personality, and most young men around her age kept away from her. The principal was two years older than her, a high school graduate from Beijing. He was very attracted to her, but she laughed at him behind his back, "Look at him wearing big pants and fanning around all day, and his undershirt is a towel." After her description, everyone thought the principal was quite funny. If no ladies were sitting next to her in big meetings, not a single young man would dare to sit on her bench. Sometimes when she saw me, she called me over to sit next to her as a foil, and she whispered to me, "Why are they avoiding me?" I looked around and asked her, "You didn't see the fear written on their faces?"
I was pleasantly surprised to find that Jialin and Donna were in the same dormitory, which gave me a reason to approach Donna.
I often went to Jialin's dormitory and pretended to ask her about Chinese teaching in my spare time. If I was lucky, I would see Donna in the dormitory. I would exchange a few words with Donna and then talk to Jialin about poetry, grammar, writing, etc. I knew Donna was also listening. She sometimes sat at her desk with a book in her hands and lowered her head, and sometimes hidden on the bed under a mosquito net. I would say goodbye to Donna when I was leaving, and I'd see my sketch of her pinned to the cardboard leaning against the wall on the table.
Once, when I came to Jialin's dormitory again, I saw that she held Donna's sketch in her hand, chatting happily with Donna. As I entered the room, she said, "Xiaofeng, can you draw a picture for me too?" I looked her up and down and answered deliberately and exaggeratedly, "Miss Chen, you are beautiful, intelligent, and mature. Only my master's strokes could draw your charm. My drawings can only amuse a little girl like Donna!" Donna gave me a stern look, dissatisfied with my words.