Hadn’t you considered it might be you?

…

Hadn’t you considered that the person I’ve kissed, the person I’ve liked, has always been you?

Lin Zhexia stood stunned by these words.

“You… kissed me?”

Lin Zhexia’s mind went blank for a moment, then slowly began to function again: “When? How did I not know about this?”

A group of people walked by from the back street, their laughter drawing nearer.

But the voices of these people seemed to be blocked by an invisible barrier; Lin Zhexia could only hear Chi Yao’s voice.

The young man’s cold, low voice said:

“The day I left.”

Lin Zhexia’s memory followed his words back to more than a year ago.

That day, she had reminded Lin He to wake her up, but she still overslept. By the time she groggily awoke, Chi Yao had already gone.

Her impression of that day was left with only an empty room. An empty afternoon.

“You had a fever, lying in bed, on the day I didn’t wake you up.”

As Chi Yao spoke, he released his grip on her chin.

He had originally intended to tell her that he had liked her for a long time.

He hadn’t expected her to overthink things and ask him to reconsider their relationship.

Hearing it was that day, Lin Zhexia was even more confused: “You kissed me while I was asleep?”

Chi Yao replied without the slightest embarrassment.

After taking some time to process these two revelations, she asked: “Where did you kiss me?”

“Your forehead.”

“…”

“You seem disappointed? I originally wanted to kiss elsewhere,” Chi Yao paused, “but then thought better of it. It wouldn’t have been right.”

After all, they hadn’t confirmed their relationship yet.

It would have been taking advantage of her without clarity.

Besides, he had been so nervous that day, so careful, he hardly dared to touch her.

Lin Zhexia was somewhat angry: “Who’s disappointed? I’m rushing to condemn you. So you knew it wasn’t appropriate?”

Chi Yao: “Yes, I retained a bit of conscience in the end.”

“…”

What made Lin Zhexia even angrier was that her and Chi Yao’s “first kiss” had happened while she was asleep. She had no memory of it whatsoever.

Such an important moment.

And she had been completely unaware.

“I was asleep when you kissed me,” she accused with a red face, “Why should you be the only one who remembers? This way, amn’t I at a loss?”

Chi Yao asked indifferently as if it wasn’t his concern: “Then what should we do?”

…

How would she know what to do?

While Lin Zhexia was immersed in the regret of “missing her first kiss with Chi Yao,” Chi Yao, who had just released her hand and slightly withdrawn, leaned toward her again. Chi Yao was naturally much taller than her, and he easily lowered his head to move closer to her. Then, a very light kiss fell on her forehead.

It was such a simple gesture.

And it wasn’t even in a special place, just her forehead.

But from this feather-light kiss, she felt a sense of being deeply cherished.

The young man’s kiss was light and restrained, almost submissive.

His eyelashes lowered, casting a shadow beneath his eyes.

Lin Zhexia’s reactions had been slow since he first spoke those words. She blinked and finally remembered to ask him another question: “In high school, the person you liked was me?”

Chi Yao didn’t answer her directly.

After a moment, he straightened up and, before stepping back, said: “Tomorrow is the weekend. If you don’t have other plans, I’ll take you to a few places.”

“After we go, you’ll know.”

It was Lin Zhexia’s first time walking Chi Yao back to the men’s dormitory. He didn’t let her walk him to the building. When they were still two blocks away from the dorm, he suggested walking her back instead.

“You don’t need to walk me back,” Lin Zhexia thought it was troublesome. “Going back and forth like this seems silly.”

“Besides, the campus is very safe, and it’s not even late. I can go back by myself.”

Chi Yao released her hand: “Text me when you get to your dorm.”

Lin Zhexia waved at him: “I will. You should go in now.”

On her way back to the women’s dormitory, Lin Zhexia still felt her forehead inexplicably burning.

After returning to her room, she first sent Chi Yao a message saying, “I’m back at the dorm,” then, after washing up, wondered where Chi Yao would take her tomorrow.

She thought for a long time but couldn’t figure it out.

What places would give her the answer once they visited?

Before sleeping, she messaged Chi Yao:

Could you give me a hint

Otherwise, I’m afraid I won’t react well tomorrow

Let me prepare a bit

The cat avatar only replied with two words:

Go sleep

Lin Zhexia: …Okay.

But too many things had happened today, and she couldn’t fall asleep right away.

From the shattering of a beautiful dream, nearly “breaking up,” to discovering that the person she had always liked had liked her for a long time, too.

She turned over in bed, thinking about how Chi Yao had liked her in high school.

That person, who was always so difficult.

Who irritated her every day and argued with her.

But as she thought more about it, she realized that Chi Yao had always been good to her.

And… it seemed that from very early on, he had only been kind to one person: her.

Lin Zhexia thought about many things. Finally, with nothing else to do, she stared at Chi Yao’s cat avatar for a while, then went online to look for similar avatars. This type of cat photo was abundant online. She found one of the same breed, saved it, and clicked to change her avatar.

Her original avatar had been set when she first opened her WeChat account—a simple line-drawn cartoon ghost face.

After changing to the new avatar, she looked back at their chat history.

Both were cat avatars now.

They looked like they belonged together.

The next day, Lin Zhexia woke up early.

Lan Xiaoxue and the others were lying in bed, discussing breakfast orders: “Let’s order together. I don’t feel like going to the cafeteria. Xiaxia, what do you want to eat?”

As she said this, she remembered Lin Zhexia might be going out to eat: “Are you going to eat with your brother? Oh right, you two had a conflict yesterday, did you sort it out?”

“I guess we did,” Lin Zhexia tied her hair in a ponytail and said, “…I misunderstood him. He should be, um, not a scumbag.”

Lan Xiaoxue: “He doesn’t look like one either. How could there be such an unapproachable scumbag? I can’t imagine how someone who doesn’t even accept friend requests could be a player.”

“…”

She couldn’t imagine it either.

What she especially hadn’t imagined was that yesterday she had been jealous of herself.

“Are you going out today?” Lan Xiaoxue noticed her tying her hair with a silk scarf and asked, “Do you want me to do your makeup?”

“No need,” Lin Zhexia thought that since their last date had been so recent, dressing up elaborately again today would seem excessive, “…besides, today probably doesn’t count as a date.”

After eating at the school cafeteria with Chi Yao, they went to the school gate to catch a ride.

At first, she didn’t know what the destination was, but since they were taking a taxi, it probably wouldn’t be too far away, at least it would be within the city.

“About how long will the ride take?” she asked.

“Two hours.”

As Chi Yao spoke, he added, “If you get tired, you can lean on me and take a nap.”

“I think I’ll just memorize some vocabulary words,” Lin Zhexia’s focus on studying from her senior year of high school had continued to the present. Recalling a certain time she had traveled with him, she added, “I’d rather avoid you calling me a pig again.”

Chi Yao suddenly said, “That time, I was the one who told you to lean on me.”

“…?”

Chi Yao clarified, “My shoulder.”

Lin Zhexia thought to herself that the light touch she had felt in her sleep that day wasn’t a dream after all: “And yet you framed me. You’re treacherous.”

Halfway through the journey, the scenery outside the window began to look familiar.

Lin Zhexia looked up from her vocabulary app and saw the famous landmark of Cheng’an District in the distance.

Having lived in Cheng’an District for so many years, she knew the roads and landmark buildings in the area like the back of her hand.

She hadn’t expected Chi Yao to bring her back to Cheng’an: “…Why are we coming back here?”

“You’re not taking me home, are you?” Lin Zhexia said, “My mom is at work today, and Uncle Wei isn’t home either.”

Chi Yao didn’t specify where they were going, only saying: “I’m not taking you home.”

They were still ten kilometers from their destination.

Lin Zhexia stared out the window and realized their car had taken several turns, eventually turning onto a road she could walk with her eyes closed.

The road outside the window seemed to extend continuously according to her memories—familiar road signs, stone bricks, the school gate, and the four characters “Cheng’an No. 2 High School” visible from afar.

Dressed in her clothes with her hair tied up, Lin Zhexia stood at the entrance of her high school, feeling somewhat dazed.

In a daze, she watched Chi Yao greet the security guard at the gate, asking if graduates could enter.

The old guard still remembered them both and smiled: “It’s you two! I used to always see you going to school together. I remember you. Go ahead. But today is the weekend, so there are no classes. If you want to see teachers, you should check in advance if they’re at school.”

Chi Yao said, “Thank you, uncle.”

It was a special feeling to return to Cheng’an No. 2 High School as a college student.

In the past, at Cheng’an, wearing school uniforms was mandatory.

Every day, they sat in classrooms studying, preparing for the college entrance exam.

There were countless school rules.

Lin Zhexia clutched her shoulder bag and, while passing the bulletin board, glanced at it to find a new list of incoming freshmen names had been posted.

Even on weekends, there were still scattered students walking around the school.

“Hurry up—the bulletin board competition is next week. The class next door has already finished theirs, so we need to complete ours today too.”

“I know—”

Though they had just graduated, they already seemed separated from high school by an unbridgeable distance.

Lin Zhexia followed behind Chi Yao: “What place is it exactly, a classroom? Why did you bring me to school? Don’t tell me you also left a message on the school rooftop?”

The school rooftop Lin Zhexia mentioned was a “lawless zone,” with a white wall that was always covered in random drawings. Especially during graduation season, everyone would go up there to “leave messages.”

“I’m not that idle,” Chi Yao said.

Lin Zhexia couldn’t help but tease: “Well, you seem pretty idle today.”

Finally, Chi Yao led her into a teaching building. Once inside, he told her: “Close your eyes.”

“So mysterious.”

“…”

She closed her eyes and was led by him up several steps, then walked for some distance, seemingly passing through a long corridor.

Then Chi Yao, still holding her hand, stopped somewhere and didn’t move.

“Stand here,” he said, lowering his head close to her ear, “Only open your eyes when I tell you to.”

Lin Zhexia nodded.

While trying to figure out which classroom this might be based on their route, she waited for Chi Yao to tell her to open her eyes.

She waited for a while, and the first thing she heard wasn’t Chi Yao’s voice but a “buzz” sound of poor electrical contact.

After the “buzz,” someone carelessly tapped the microphone.

The muffled tapping sound transmitted through the wires, then the young man softly said “hey” into the microphone.

Then, he said: “You can open your eyes now, girlfriend.”

Lin Zhexia opened her eyes and found herself standing in the school auditorium.

The No. 2 High School auditorium was still the same.

Rows of seats, with a stage area at the front.

Red velvet curtains hung on both sides of the stage.

She had vivid memories of this auditorium because many events from her high school days had taken place here—her first time gathering courage to participate in a speech competition, her first time leading her class in a poetry recitation during the school anniversary, and also her first time… listening to Chi Yao sing on stage.

But on each of those previous occasions, there had been many people in the audience. Thousands were sitting in the seats, and the entire auditorium was bustling with activity.

Not like now, when it was empty.

The only audience member was her.

Chi Yao stood in the center of the stage. He had found an old guitar somewhere, with the microphone clipped to the mic stand. His fingers pressed across the strings, and a familiar introductory melody flowed out.

Lin Zhexia recognized from the intro that the song was “A Midsummer Night.”

Sure enough, Chi Yao lowered his eyes and began with the first line: “Remember that first heart flutter in the summer of that year.”

“You unintentionally entered, beyond description.”

“…”

“The wind of midsummer night conceals the loss of control.”

Lin Zhexia stood frozen in place.

The scene before her gradually overlapped with her memories.

The young man on stage looked much the same as before. The spotlight from above shone down on him, illuminating his entire being.

But this time, she was the only one in the audience.

As if the person on stage had come only for her.

Chi Yao’s voice, due to the emptiness of the auditorium, carried even further.

“And I have since remained in the time-space of chasing you.”

Chi Yao was only responsible for half of the song, so after that half, the guitar sound gradually stopped.

…

His hand holding the guitar dropped, but his voice didn’t break. His voice transmitted clearly through the standing microphone across most of the auditorium to her ears: “When we were signing up for the school anniversary performances, I originally didn’t want to participate, but someone told me she wanted to see me on stage.”

“This song, from the beginning, I only wanted to play it for one person to hear. That person is called Lin Zhexia.”

Lin Zhexia felt a surreal, unreal sensation, stemming from the overlap of past and present.

She recalled a fragment of distant memory, a trivial conversation.

—”Besides, I hope you’ll go on stage.”

—”…You want to see?”

With Chi Yao’s words, that sense of unreality gradually faded away, and the two stage performances completely overlapped in this moment.

So her feelings earlier weren’t an illusion.

The dazzling young man she had once secretly photographed from the audience, hiding in the crowd, had truly come for her.

The person she had secretly photographed back then, wanting to keep it private, imagining he could belong solely to her.

It turned out he had always belonged only to her.

After a while, Lin Zhexia blinked, forcing back the tears that had suddenly welled up: “So this is the place you wanted to bring me to.”

“Back then, when I asked you, you said you did it to show off your charm on stage.”

Chi Yao: “I didn’t dare back then.”

Lin Zhexia: “Didn’t dare what?”

“Didn’t dare to say I liked you,” Chi Yao looked at her from the stage, “I was afraid you would feel awkward.”

That would indeed have been very awkward.

If she hadn’t realized her feelings for him at that time, they probably couldn’t even have remained friends.

Lin Zhexia opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, Chi Yao interrupted her: “Besides this place, there’s one more place I want to take you.”

Besides the auditorium, there was one more place.

Lin Zhexia couldn’t have guessed the auditorium, let alone the other place.

Along the way, she held Chi Yao’s hand while wandering, asking him: “Where is it exactly? Tell me secretly, and I’ll pretend not to know.”

Chi Yao: “After all this roundabout way, you might as well just not know.”

“…”

The next destination was also quite far.

And the scenery outside the window was unfamiliar. She could only judge by the direction that they were heading, to the suburbs.

The suburbs… places she and Chi Yao had been together…

She caught some fragmentary memories but wasn’t sure.

Until she took a nap in the car and woke up just as they arrived at their destination. Looking out the window, she saw the words “Luo Mountain Botanical Garden” and confirmed it was indeed this place.

But why would Chi Yao bring her here?

Was it because they had made a pinky promise here?

Lin Zhexia couldn’t figure it out, and Chi Yao didn’t give her time to think. He opened the car door and led her out. After buying tickets at the booth, he held her hand as they entered.

At this hour in the afternoon, there weren’t many tourists at the Luo Mountain Botanical Garden.

Lin Zhexia passed the cluster of hydrangeas at the entrance. This year’s hydrangeas looked similar to last year’s, but the colors were slightly different.

She thought of the time she had crouched here and Chi Yao had taken a “landscape photo,” which he even used as his phone wallpaper.

“You weren’t doing it deliberately back then, were you?” Lin Zhexia finally caught on, “Deliberately saying you were taking a landscape photo when you were so captivated by me, couldn’t control yourself, and couldn’t resist capturing my beautiful face.”

“…”

Chi Yao glanced at her, not denying it, but habitually said: “You’re quite good at giving yourself undeserved credit.”

Lin Zhexia: “Since you liked me in high school, this is completely reasonable speculation.”

The final place Chi Yao took her to was beneath the wishing tree.

That tree hung with red wishing strips.

The summer sunlight was still intense, shining on the sea of red. Countless wishing strips rustled occasionally in the wind.

Chi Yao brought her to search for a long time under the tree.

There were simply too many wishing strips. Even remembering the exact location, each spot had dozens of strips hanging, and new wishes were added every day. It was difficult to find one hanging from over a year ago.

“Let me help you look,” Lin Zhexia stood to the side, wanting to help, “I can recognize your handwriting anyway.”

Just then, Chi Yao’s hand paused as he searched through the wishing strips.

Then he pinched one between two fingers, turning his head to call her: “Come here.”

Lin Zhexia reacted slowly, finally realizing he was asking her to come see the wishing strip he had written.

Chi Yao had hung it quite high. After walking over, she stood on tiptoe, and just as she was about to see the content on the wishing strip, she heard him say: “Even if you couldn’t recognize my handwriting, you’d still be able to find it.”

Almost at the moment, his words fell.

Lin Zhexia saw her name on the wishing strip.

In a handwriting she knew better than any other, it said:

—”Lin Zhexia, I like you.”

The world seemed to spin in that moment because of those words.

She recalled that day when she had wanted to see Chi Yao’s wishing strip but couldn’t.

Both of them had hidden their wishing strips.

This ancient tree, hung with countless wishes, had also concealed the young man’s love that he dared not show that year.

After reading the wishing strip, Lin Zhexia, unstable on her tiptoes, let go of her hand, and the red wishing strip fell back among the layers of red.

She said softly, “So that year… this was the wish you wrote.”

Sunlight tinted the young man’s pupils, refracting a passionate light.

Chi Yao lowered his head to look at her: “The day I confessed to you wasn’t in my plans.”

“It might have been a bit rushed,” he said, “but my feelings for you weren’t sudden, nor were they an illusion.”

“If you feel insecure, afraid that my feelings for you are just an illusion, then let me formally confess to you once more.”

His voice fell into the wind: “I like you. I’ve wanted to take your hair tie for a long time. You’ve been pinned at the top since middle school. The first time I wanted to kiss you was in Haicheng City, the moment you pulled me into the emergency exit.”

“Coward, in those moments and instants you weren’t aware of, I’ve secretly confessed to you thousands upon thousands of times.”

Lin Zhexia’s “uncertainty” finally transformed into “certainty” at this moment.

So the elastic band wasn’t a coincidence.

Always being pinned at the top, that “always” had begun from that time.

…

Even the first kiss in the emergency exit had been premeditated.

Lin Zhexia gradually couldn’t hear clearly what Chi Yao was saying afterward, nor did she need to listen anymore. Acting purely on instinct, Lin Zhexia reached out to grab Chi Yao’s collar. He paused in surprise, then obediently bent down, allowing her to pull him down.

The next second, her lips touched his, silencing the remaining words.

In the instant of the kiss.

She thought she had caught the wind.

And had also fulfilled that birthday wish she once thought impossible to achieve.