Icy water surrounded her, the bone-chilling cold seeping through Liang Sheng’s thin frame into her heart and lungs. So cold… so cold… Too weak to struggle.

In that terrifying silence, a memory suddenly surfaced—

Back in high school, Liang Sheng had quietly liked the girl sitting in front of her. Sweet smile, sweet face, sweet voice.

She loved stealing glances at the girl ahead. Just having the one she liked within sight felt like quiet happiness.

She especially looked forward to collecting homework—when the girl would turn around and softly ask for her assignment. Liang Sheng would hand it over with feigned indifference. The moment the girl turned back, she’d cover her mouth and steal a smile, like a child who’d just gotten candy.

Her name was Lin Yiyi. A lovely name.

She never knew exactly when it started—just a sudden flutter, a longing to stay by her side forever. Liang Sheng wasn’t afraid. Love made everyone equal. Why couldn’t she be with who she loved?

But the world wouldn’t allow it.

Near graduation, heart pounding, she finally composed a long confession text. Too timid to say “I love you” face-to-face, she sent it anyway—just to leave no regrets.

If she’d known the outcome, she’d never have sent that message. The one that nearly drove her to suicide.

The next day, stepping into class, every eye snapped to her—mocking, disgusted, sneering. Only a few held pity.

The girl who once sat in front had swapped seats with a boy, now far away. She stared too, eyes thick with revulsion, as if at rotting trash.

*What happened?* Liang Sheng already knew. Silent, she walked to her seat and sat like a mute.

Whispers rose after the stares faded.

Clenching her fists, a tear dropped onto her notebook—*plink*—blurring the inked character “Yi.” How blind she’d been. She never imagined the girl she idolized would expose her to the whole class.

*Hah. Serves me right.* Her nails bit into her palms.

If it had ended there, maybe she wouldn’t have chosen death.

But her closest friend told her parents. They talked. The words reached Liang Sheng’s mother.

Raised alone by her mother, Zhao Xin was her entire world.

*Slap!* A sharp crack. Her right cheek bloomed red. She crumpled to the floor, tears streaming like broken pearls.

“You still won’t admit it?!” Zhao Xin loomed over her, hands on hips, gaze cold as if at a tiny ant.

“I didn’t! I didn’t!” Liang Sheng lied.

Zhao Xin’s hands trembled. She pulled out her phone, shoved a screenshot in Liang Sheng’s face.

*Boom.* Her world shattered. She snatched the phone. “Who—who told you?!”

“So you admit it!” Zhao Xin’s face twisted with fury. “Huff… huff…” She raised a hand, let it fall. “Worthless! A burden! A twisted freak!” Slaps rained down.

Liang Sheng could’ve fought back. But she couldn’t. It was her mother. She curled into a ball, arms shielding her head, enduring every blow.

Was loving someone really a crime?

The next day, swollen-faced, she entered class.

Silence crashed down. Every eye locked onto her. A needle drop would’ve echoed.

Absolute, suffocating silence.

Liang Sheng felt like a fish stranded on land, gasping.

Then—a whisper. A boy snorted. Laughter spread like wildfire. Thunderous ridicule filled the room.

*Are… are they laughing at me?* Darkness swallowed her vision. Her body went light. She collapsed.

She woke in a hospital room. Empty. Sterile white everywhere—bleak, lifeless.

Head bowed, fingers gripping the sheets. “Mmm… mmm…” She cried silently, biting her arm to muffle sobs. Metallic blood filled her mouth. She’d bitten through skin.

*If… if only I were “normal.”*

The door creaked. Classmates entered. Girls hung back; boys crowded near.

Liang Sheng wiped tears and turned away.

After a long pause, a boy spoke: “Liang Sheng… we don’t hate you. We just… don’t want to see you like this. So many guys out there—why… why like a girl?”

Silence from her.

A girl whispered, “L-Liang Sheng… if you get better, we can still be friends. Everyone makes mistakes…”

Voices swelled—advice, reassurance, chatter.

Liang Sheng cried again. *Maybe… was it really my fault? If I stopped… could I start over?*

They exchanged glances. One girl patted her shoulder. Quietly, they slipped out, closing the door gently.

*They’re all so kind… Can I really keep going for my own heart?* She stared blankly out the window.

A sparrow chirped freely outside. She felt less free than a bird. She was a caged canary.

*Click.* The door opened again. Zhao Xin walked straight to the bedside, voice weary, sorrowful. “Daughter… it’s not that Mom doesn’t understand. You’re just wrong. How could you choose something so disgusting… being gay?”