In her college graduation year, Zhou Wan saw these words on the school’s confession wall: “If only I could have shared the blazing summer with you.”
When she saw those words, she froze for about a minute.
Her thoughts drifted far away, to someone distant from her past.
Then she shook her head, pushing everything back out of her mind.
Graduation.
Four years of university had come to an end.
Everyone took graduation photos, tossing their mortarboards high into the air, their smiles bright and radiant.
That evening, Zhou Wan went out for a hotpot with her roommates.
They clinked beer glasses, screaming, cheering, and laughing together.
Zhou Wan still had alcohol allergies, though much better than before. She no longer got rashes, just a flushed face after one sip. She wouldn’t get drunk, it was just the allergy, and it would pass quickly.
So she had a little alcohol that day.
Near the end, Zhou Wan got up to pay the bill.
After they left, her roommates confronted her about secretly paying again.
Zhou Wan smiled: “I got my internship salary yesterday, I should treat you all.”
“That’s different,” said the dorm head, “Quick, send your payment code to the group chat, and we’ll split it with you.”
“There’s no need. We probably won’t be able to gather like this often anymore. You’ve all helped me so much these years, I should have treated you to a meal long ago,” Zhou Wan said.
At these words, one of her roommates burst out with a “Waa—” and started crying.
She hugged Zhou Wan’s waist, burying her face in her chest, “I’m going to miss you so much, Wan-wan.”
After leaving Pingchuan City back then, Zhou Wan returned all the remaining money on her card to Lu Xixiao. Without money for school, she worked for a year, then went back to school for another year of senior high before getting into university.
During her four years at university, she worked part-time jobs while studying.
Her roommates were all very kind. Knowing her family situation, they helped her in various ways. When paying the dorm’s electricity bills, it was often split between just three of them, not asking Zhou Wan for her share, and they would frequently bring back an extra portion of food for her from the cafeteria.
Zhou Wan hugged her roommate, smiling: “It’s okay, we’re all still in B City, we can meet up when we have time.”
On the summer night, the air was sultry, with cicadas chirping endlessly in the trees.
The four young women walked along the university campus paths, crying and laughing, chatting about everything.
As they approached their dormitory building, the dorm head suddenly nudged Zhou Wan, jerking her chin toward the front.
Zhou Wan looked ahead and saw Jiang Yan standing at the building entrance.
“He’s persistent.”
The dorm head shrugged. They all knew Jiang Yan, not just because of Zhou Wan, but because he was a campus celebrity. Now in his first year of graduate school, he had already won numerous awards and published several papers.
“Wan-wan, I bet he’s here to confess to you today.”
Zhou Wan shook her head: “Don’t say that.”
Her roommates waved goodbye and quickly ran upstairs.
Jiang Yan turned to look at her, walking forward: “Zhou Wan.”
“Mm.”
“Do you have time? Let’s take a walk.”
Zhou Wan paused: “Mm.”
There was a small track field next to the dormitory, where quite a few people were still running and exercising at this hour. They walked along the outer ring.
Zhou Wan had spent a year working to earn money before continuing her studies, so she was only graduating now as a senior. Technically, she should call Jiang Yan “senior.”
After that incident years ago, Zhou Wan never contacted Jiang Yan again, and when he tried to reach her, she never replied. Later, her phone was stolen, she couldn’t log into WeChat, and got a new number.
It wasn’t until university that she saw Jiang Yan again.
They didn’t interact much, only when Jiang Yan occasionally sought her out.
“Zhou Wan,” Jiang Yan said, “Do you still resent what I did to you back then?”
Zhou Wan blinked, shaking her head: “No.”
“Then…”
She interrupted, her voice gentle: “I don’t resent what you did to me, but I can’t forgive you on his behalf. He was so proud, yet he had to kneel because of something like that, and spent over a month in the hospital.”
This “he,” Jiang Yan naturally knew who it referred to.
It had been a long time since he’d heard Lu Xixiao’s name.
After that incident, Lu Zhongyue directed his anger at him, having a huge argument with Jiang Wensheng, and they never saw each other again after that.
“Do you still like him?” Jiang Yan asked.
Zhou Wan paused briefly, after a moment of silence, she smiled slightly and said softly: “What he means to me can’t be simply defined by whether I like him or not.”
Jiang Yan remained silent.
Zhou Wan lifted her head, looking at the stars: “You know, many people have asked me how I managed to get through those times alone, but when I think back now, what comes to mind isn’t those painful and long experiences, but his image—tenacious, strong, impetuous, and solitary brave.”
“Jiang Yan, all these years, it was thoughts of him that got me to where I am today.”
They walked one lap around the track, returning to their starting point.
Zhou Wan stopped and turned to look at Jiang Yan, her tone gentle yet resolute: “Jiang Yan, don’t come find me anymore. I don’t resent you, but I can’t forgive you either.”
…
Back in the dormitory, Zhou Wan packed her belongings.
The next day, everyone left separately, returning their dorm keys to the building supervisor.
Four years of university, at this moment, came to an end.
Zhou Wan had taken her college entrance exam during her period, with stomach pain. Though it wasn’t exactly a mistake, her score didn’t allow her much choice in majors, and she ended up choosing media and journalism.
She got a very good job, starting her internship at the beginning of her senior year and successfully staying on. Now with her graduation certificate, it wouldn’t be long before she became a regular employee.
She rented a studio apartment near her company and took a day off to organize the place.
She carried her luggage upstairs alone, swept and mopped the floor, cleaned the windows, and dusted, and by the time everything was clean, it was already dark. Zhou Wan put her clothes into the wardrobe one by one, then opened a packed cardboard box and took out the miscellaneous items inside. At the very bottom, her fingers paused.
She saw the photographs.
With time, the photos had yellowed and faded somewhat.
But the young man’s image was still so clear and vivid.
Zhou Wan didn’t dare look too closely, quickly taking them out and putting them in the furthest corner of her bedside drawer.
That night, she had a dream.
She dreamed of her last phone call with Lu Xixiao.
At the end of that call, things had gotten very tense between them.
After she said those words, Lu Xixiao was silent for a long time. Finally, he said, Zhou Wan, don’t let me see you again, or I’ll make you cry and beg me.
This was probably the harshest thing that a proud and unruly young man had ever said to her.
In the morning, she was awakened by her alarm.
Zhou Wan sat up in bed, and raised her hand to wipe her eyes—they were wet.
She didn’t pay it much attention, quickly getting up to wash her face.
…
Well, new media companies have just started flourishing in recent years. New employees always had endless work, and Zhou Wan was assigned many tasks, keeping her dizzy busy every day.
In this industry, people came and went, and new employees were used like machines, with countless trivial tasks. Those with experience had resources, were diplomatic, some nurturing talent, others commanding imperiously.
But at least these busy days left no time to think about other things, making time pass a bit faster.
Half a year after starting work, Zhou Wan became the youngest team leader in the company.
She had a good boss, a woman in her thirties who, though young, was always meticulous and often scolded people. Many were afraid of her, but she was fair in rewards and punishments, valued talent, and mentored Zhou Wan.
Zhou Wan was very grateful to her.
But just a week after becoming team leader, her boss was suddenly fired.
It was unexpected, no one knew what had happened.
She had always been stern, not hated, but not liked either. The day she packed up her desk, only Zhou Wan helped her.
Zhou Wan carried the cardboard box with her to the elevator.
Her boss stopped her: “This is far enough, you should go back.”
“Sister Li, you have so many things, let me help you carry them down.”
The boss smiled and said: “You’re still too young.”
Zhou Wan paused.
“I was fired because I upset the big boss. You should be distancing yourself from me right now, not helping me down. Aren’t you afraid of being implicated?”
If it were a more impulsive newcomer, they might have insisted on maintaining loyalty and accompanied her downstairs.
But Zhou Wan didn’t.
She had learned about these worldly matters too early, knew Sister Li was right, understood her meaning, and knew she couldn’t lose this job.
Sister Li knew Zhou Wan was clever and quick to understand. She patted her shoulder, took the box from her arms, and said: “Work hard, Zhou Wan.”
“Mm.”
She responded with difficulty, ashamed of her choice at this moment, “I’m sorry, Sister Li.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry about, I would make the same choice in your position.”
As the elevator doors were closing, she looked at Zhou Wan and said softly, “Zhou Wan, no matter what, I hope you can be true to yourself. The road ahead might not be easy, but be brave and determined.”
…
She understood the meaning of that last half-sentence that very afternoon.
After Sister Li left, the department head position was vacant. The big boss recommended her for the position, letting her take over. Becoming department head at 24, no wonder there was gossip in the company.
They said she had an improper relationship with the big boss, that she had whispered sweet nothings in his ear, leading to the previous department head’s dismissal so she could take the position.
Twenty-four-year-old Zhou Wan is gentle and quiet, beautiful, with a mild temperament, never losing her temper.
She was the perfect target for these rumors.
And Sister Li’s last words to her—the first half of that sentence—Zhou Wan only understood their meaning a month later:
“Zhou Wan, no matter what, I hope you can be true to yourself.”
Friday night, there was a business dinner for a new project, and the boss asked her to accompany them.
This was normal; as a department head, she couldn’t escape these social obligations. Zhou Wan took two allergy pills beforehand and went to the most luxurious club in the city.
Over the years, she had learned to be more diplomatic, knowing how to use pretty words to avoid drinking while not offending anyone.
But she still had to drink a little.
Even after taking the allergy medicine, Zhou Wan still felt unwell.
This time the alcohol didn’t show on her face; outwardly, there was no sign of discomfort. Only Zhou Wan knew her heart rate was steadily climbing, making her anxious.
She excused herself to the bathroom and went to the toilet to force herself to throw up, expelling all the alcohol she had just drunk.
Only then did her heart rate begin to drop.
This repeated several times until her throat was burning with pain.
Eventually, Zhou Wan didn’t dare to make herself throw up anymore.
Thankfully, it finally ended.
After seeing the clients off, the boss turned and placed his hand on Zhou Wan’s arm: “It’s quite late, Xiao Zhou, why don’t you ride back with me?”
“No need, President Huang.” Zhou Wan discreetly pulled her arm away, “I couldn’t trouble you. My friend happens to be nearby and will pick me up on their way.”
“I remember you live near the company, that’s on my way too, come on.” He put his arm around Zhou Wan’s waist, his fingertips lightly brushing against her.
His touch made Zhou Wan’s whole body uncomfortable, and her hair stood on end.
She suddenly understood the meaning of Sister Li’s words, and why she had angered the boss and been fired.
“Xiao Zhou, you’re the youngest and most promising person in our company,” President Huang said. “You’re going to keep rising, so choices are very important. Making the right choice can make things twice as easy.”
Zhou Wan was held by him as they walked outside, listening to his suggestive words.
Because of the alcohol, her heart rate kept climbing, making her dizzy and anxious.
She forced herself to stay calm and think of a solution.
Fortunately, just as they reached outside, a man approached calling “President Huang”—an acquaintance. Zhou Wan took the chance to step several paces away, moving to the side.
“President Huang,” Zhou Wan nodded politely, her expression unruffled, “I’ll head back now.”
With someone else present, President Huang couldn’t be too obvious, so he could only nod in agreement, concernedly telling her to be careful on the way home and to send him a message when she got there.
The look in the other man’s eyes predictably became peculiar.
Young, beautiful women in the workplace were always viewed through various colored lenses and looked down upon.
Zhou Wan felt utterly disgusted and nauseated. She nodded perfunctorily and quickly turned to leave.
Her quick steps turned into running. She ran to the roadside, where the cold wind finally helped disperse some of the nausea in her chest.
The last few drinks hadn’t been thrown up yet. Zhou Wan felt completely unwell, her whole body was hot, her heart rate still climbing, and her head was dizzy and confused.
She wanted to feel the wind for a while before going back inside to find a bathroom to throw up the alcohol.
Late night B City was a neon-lit world of wine and song, bustling and noisy, with endless streams of cars and people, lively yet lonely.
Zhou Wan leaned alone against the roadside railing. She wore a beige dress that reached her calves, with a pair of flats below. Her feet were slim, with visible veins, making her look delicate yet uniquely attractive in this city, like a patch of pure land.
But right now Zhou Wan couldn’t notice the gazes falling on her. Her brows were furrowed, eyes half-closed, only hoping the night wind would grow stronger and blow away the alcohol smell from her body.
After quite a while, her legs had gone numb.
Zhou Wan lightly stamped her feet, thinking of leaving, when suddenly she heard a voice from not far away.
No matter how many years passed, she would never forget that voice.
Magnetic, husky, carrying a lazy smile, casual and unruly, yet natural and at ease.
She couldn’t control it; her gaze suddenly shot toward the source of the voice.
To be precise, at that moment, she thought she must be drunk and mistaking someone else for Lu Xixiao.
The world was so big, China was so big, even B City was so big—how could people who parted in their youth meet again so easily?
But she saw Lu Xixiao’s face.
After all these years, he had matured, and grown thinner.
If before he had been the sharpest sword in the world, now Lu Xixiao was like a sword tempered in fierce flames, still carrying that fire.
He leaned against the wall, his hair slightly tousled by the wind, his white shirt with one button undone, the wind defining his clean, sharp waistline, broad shoulders, and narrow waist showing signs of regular exercise.
He pulled out a cigarette, holding it between his teeth.
The long-legged woman beside him took out a lighter, shielding the flame with one hand as she leaned in to light it for him.
Lu Xixiao cooperatively lowered his head, lit the cigarette, took a deep drag, and turned his head to exhale the smoke.
As he turned, his gaze fell on Zhou Wan.
In just a second, he calmly looked away, turning back to continue chatting with the others.
As if he hadn’t recognized her at all.
Zhou Wan blinked very lightly.
She knew she must be drunk, otherwise she wouldn’t have walked toward Lu Xixiao. Even as she took step after step forward, she still wasn’t sure if the person before her was Lu Xixiao or just her imagination.
She just wanted to confirm.
So she spoke: “Lu Xixiao.”
The man holding the cigarette suddenly lost his smile. He dropped the cigarette and strode forward with powerful steps. He shed his facade of detached indifference, roughly grabbing Zhou Wan’s collar and pushing her against the wall.
Romance and drama outside nightclubs always drew attention, especially when the leads were a handsome man and a beautiful woman.
Lu Xixiao had never liked being stared at like a spectacle.
But at this moment he couldn’t care about anything else.
That fire he had buried for six years had been raging inside him, and today it finally found an outlet.
When he pushed Zhou Wan against the wall, her shoulder blades hit the stone bricks hard, the pain almost bringing tears to her eyes.
But Lu Xixiao didn’t loosen his grip at all, his palm pressing forcefully against her shoulder.
“Zhou Wan.”
His voice was ground out viciously from the bottom of his throat. Compared to Zhou Wan’s cultured gentleness, he seemed crazed as if he wanted to kill someone. His eyes were bloodshot, whether from fury or resentment was unclear.
“Zhou Wan, you dare to appear, you dare to show yourself.” The smell of alcohol and tobacco mixed on his breath as he asked through gritted teeth, “Do you want to die?”