During that period, a story about wishing stars was circulating online.

A narrow strip of paper, folded two or three times into a small star.

Then, as you placed the wishing star into a wishing bottle, if you sincerely made a wish upon the star, the Wishing Immortal in the heavens would hear it, and the wish could be granted.

It was a story steeped in the flavor of mythology — some believed it, some didn’t.

Some people folded wishing stars and made wishes that came true. Others made wishes that ultimately never came to pass.

All in all: believe and it exists; don’t believe and it doesn’t. What matters is sincere effort and a devoted heart.

The class’s arts and culture representative, Li Rui, came across this story on Weibo and forwarded the original post to the class group chat:

Li Rui: How about we fold some wishing stars for Teacher Yu? It’s meaningful, doesn’t cost much, and Teacher Yu definitely won’t refuse.

Fang Qi: Seconded, plus one.

Liu Sheng: What if you’re all thumbs?

Wu Wang: Learn.

Hu Hanghang: Clumsy hands, plus one.

Hu Hanghang: But for Teacher Yu, I can do it! [I Can Do It.jpg]

Zhou Qi: Each of us could also write a blessing for Teacher Yu on a little slip of paper. I think that would make it even more meaningful.

……

Although a handful of the boys admitted they were bad with their hands and worried their stars would come out crooked, Li Rui and Zhou Qi’s proposal received approval from the majority.

The day after the gift was decided, Li Rui went out and bought the strips of paper needed for folding. However, since the quantity they needed was so large, the convenience store didn’t have enough stock — she could only purchase two thousand strips for now.

“The owner said he’s restocking this afternoon. For now we only have two thousand strips, so everyone can start folding while we wait. The owner will let us know when the new stock comes in.” Li Rui divided the strips evenly among the class based on headcount. “Anyone who doesn’t know how to fold can take some strips and find someone to show them. I bought plenty, so just fold away freely.”

Five thousand wishing stars, distributed evenly, meant each person had a task of nearly one hundred stars.

Hu Hanghang took four bundles of strips from Li Rui. Lin Tao took one bundle and set it beside her — folding stars wasn’t particularly difficult for her.

Back in freshman year of high school, Meng Xin had a knack for playing around in class — and she was interested in everything. Five-in-a-row on white paper, homemade Monopoly, folding little animals and stars from cardstock — basically anything unrelated to studying fascinated her back then.

Lin Tao and Meng Xin had sat next to each other for a year, and had naturally picked up quite a few things along the way.

“Lin Tao, Lin Tao.” Hu Hanghang had already set aside several lopsided failed attempts and was watching Lin Tao, who had a neat little pile of completed stars beside her. “How do you actually make these things? I watched a video and it didn’t look that hard, but when I try it, it’s nothing like I expected.”

Lin Tao glanced at his crooked, misshapen efforts and laughed. “Those are more like meteorites than stars.”

“……”

“Come here, I’ll show you.” Lin Tao said.

Lin Tao took a fresh strip of paper. “Start from the very edge and make something like a knot — like this — then pass the other end through here, and pull it gently taut. Be careful not to leave too long a tail at the knotted end, otherwise it’ll be hard to fold later.”

Hu Hanghang followed Lin Tao’s movements and made a knot. “Like this?”

Lin Tao checked it. “Exactly like that. Then you hold onto the extra length and fold it back and forth. Finally, tuck in the little bit that sticks out to form a complete pentagon, then pinch the edges and press inward.”

As she spoke, another finished star appeared in Lin Tao’s hand.

Hu Hanghang imitated her step by step. Though his didn’t come out perfectly shaped, it at least resembled something — far better than the warped disasters he’d produced before.

Hu Hanghang declared with proud satisfaction, “Now that I think about it, your old pal Pangpang really is pretty clever.”

“……”

Many others in the class didn’t know how either, and people ran around learning from whoever could teach them.

The class bell rang. Jiang Yan returned from Teacher Yu’s office and spotted the stars and colored paper on the desk. He casually picked one up. “What’s all this — are you preparing a Valentine’s gift for me?”

“……” Lin Tao looked up at him with a blank expression. “When did you start being as self-absorbed as Pangpang?”

Jiang Yan smiled and denied it. “I’m not.”

“Oh right, you’re not.” Lin Tao kept her head down, hands still moving. “You’ve been this self-absorbed from the very beginning.”

“……”

“It’s not like I’ve forgotten how a certain someone was so vain he once said he was handsome enough that just looking at him could satisfy someone’s hunger.”

Lin Tao was referring to the time they’d run into each other at the Chen Family’s small restaurant during the freshman year finals.

Back then, Lin Tao had nothing but irritation toward him — no trace of interest at all. She’d thought he was insufferably vain, at a level where even Teacher Liang wouldn’t dare encourage him further.

Having his past words suddenly thrown back at him by his girlfriend, Jiang Yan felt slightly embarrassed, but there was nothing he could do about it. He laughed and sighed. “There’s no winning against you, no matter what.”

Lin Tao neither confirmed nor denied. “Good that you know.”

“So what are these for?” Jiang Yan looked around the classroom and quickly realized almost everyone had a share. “A gift for Teacher Yu?”

“That’s right.” Lin Tao said. “Li Rui saw a story about wishing stars online and thought it was meaningful, so she proposed we fold five thousand wishing stars for Teacher Yu. Zhou Qi also suggested we each write a blessing for Teacher Yu inside one of the stars.”

“That’s actually pretty interesting.” Jiang Yan turned one of Lin Tao’s finished stars over in his fingers, then paused for a moment before coming back to himself. “Do I have to fold some too?”

“What else would you do?” Lin Tao looked at him and said calmly, “Even one day as your teacher makes them like a father for life.“

“By that logic,” Jiang Yan smiled and said, “didn’t I tutor you before?”

“……”

Lin Tao lost control of her grip, and a perfectly good star got squeezed into a misshapen lump.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and sat there with the crushed star crumpled in her fist. Then she opened her eyes, raised her head, and looked at him with a completely blank expression.

Jiang Yan noticed what her hands had done, and the fire stirring in her eyes. He laughed and conceded, “I’ll fold some. I’ll start right now.”

Lin Tao broke into a smile. “Good boy.”

Hu Hanghang, sitting behind the two of them having watched the entire exchange from start to finish, marveled, “Our Brother Yan, in front of Lin Tao, simply has no standing whatsoever.”

“……”

To give Teacher Yu a surprise, the students of Class 18 could only fold their wishing stars during breaks and after school. By the time all five thousand stars were finished, three days had passed.

Hu Hanghang ordered a jumbo wishing bottle from a local shop. The owner threw in a small bonus wishing bottle as a gift — which was just right for storing the stars with the written blessings.

The special paper for writing blessings was bought separately by Li Rui in a distinctive material and color.

Before class one day, she stood at the lectern and announced: “Write whatever you want to say to Teacher Yu on these, fold them up, and I’ll collect them at the end of class.”

Everyone in the class responded.

“Sure!” “No problem.” ……

Lin Tao held her slip of paper, unable to think of what to write. She glanced at Jiang Yan and found he had already written his and was folding it.

Curious, she asked, “What did you write?”

Jiang Yan kept his head bent, his slender, elegant fingers folding the paper in a few quick turns. He said quietly, “May your fortune be as vast as the Eastern Sea and your lifespan as long as the Southern Mountains.”

“……You have no creativity at all.”

Jiang Yan smiled and didn’t elaborate.

Whether his words were truthful, Lin Tao didn’t dwell on it. After all, for a birthday as significant as Teacher Yu’s fiftieth, auspicious words could only be too few, never too many.

As for what to write for Teacher Yu herself, Lin Tao thought about it for nearly half a period — moving from classical poetry to famous quotations — before ultimately falling back on convention and writing the most ordinary two lines imaginable:

Happy birthday! Teacher Yu! Thank you, Mr. Yu.

In one’s school years, beyond the rare and precious bonds of friendship with classmates, being fortunate enough to encounter a homeroom teacher like Teacher Yu — one who was both teacher and friend — was itself a true blessing.

……

After class, Li Rui took the small wishing bottle around to collect everyone’s blessing stars, and waited to present them to Teacher Yu during the evening self-study session.

Perhaps because every person in the class was holding the same secret surprise in their hearts, when afternoon classes began, Class 18 broke away from its usual heavy, subdued atmosphere and became slightly giddy and restless.

Winter days are short; night falls early. The winter evening wind was sharp and cold. Teacher Yu arrived as always, mug in hand, stepping through the door right on cue with the bell.

“Students, the temperature has been dropping quite sharply lately. With the final exams almost upon us, please take good care of yourselves and stay warm.” Physical well-being was a topic Teacher Yu often raised. “These finals are a ten-school joint exam; the difficulty level is no lower than before. Everyone should be reviewing diligently in the coming days and aim to do well.”

“The new year is just around the corner.” Teacher Yu set down his mug and began gathering the small stubs of chalk scattered on the lectern, placing them into the chalk box. “This winter break is short — only a week. The school, wanting everyone to have a peaceful holiday, has decided to release the final exam results after the break.”

The moment those words landed, the classroom burst into commotion.

Liu Sheng slapped his desk and laughed. “Is the school really being this considerate?”

Teacher Yu finished gathering all the chalk stubs and picked up the chalkboard eraser to tidy up. “However, if any parents are particularly eager to know their children’s scores, the school isn’t completely unreasonable — results can be shared privately on request.”

“……%#@!”

Laughter rippled through the classroom.

Students sitting by the windows quietly drew the curtains. Two boys in the first row, seizing the moment while no one was watching, reached out with their “guilty hands.”

There was a soft thud, and the classroom suddenly went dark. The curtains came together seamlessly, not a single sliver of light showing through.

Someone started making noise to stir things up.

Teacher Yu, completely in the dark, assumed the school had lost power and said steadily, “Stay calm and study quietly. I’ll go check what’s happening.”

The moment the words left his mouth —

A faint glow flickered to life at the back of the classroom. Hu Hanghang stood up holding a cake with freshly lit candles, walked forward, and called out, “Teacher Yu! Happy birthday!”

Someone held up their phone and played a birthday song.

The whole class joined in to sing along.

The young, earnest voices echoed through the classroom.

Teacher Yu stood at the front, seemingly caught completely off guard, frozen where he stood without moving.

In the dim light, Lin Tao couldn’t clearly make out Teacher Yu’s expression, but she could vaguely see him raise a hand to wipe at the corner of his eye.

“Teacher Yu… does he look like he’s crying?” Lin Tao leaned over to look at Jiang Yan, fighting the urge to laugh — yet somehow unable to. “Why do I feel a little like crying too?”

“Don’t tell me about it.” Under the desk, Jiang Yan clasped her hand in his, his tone unusually serious. “I can’t bear to see you cry.”

Lin Tao’s carefully built-up emotion dissolved in an instant. She pinched the back of his hand and retorted, “It’s not like I’ve ever cried in front of you that many times.”

She thought back carefully. “Maybe just once, actually.”

Jiang Yan looked away. “Even once is too much.”

“So if I feel like crying someday, I’ll have to hide it from you,” Lin Tao said. “Everyone else’s boyfriends say things like, go ahead and cry, I’m right here, it’s okay — how come with you it’s don’t even tell me about it?“

Jiang Yan seemed to have latched onto a different detail than Lin Tao. “Why would you still have moments in the future when you want to cry?”

Lin Tao made a soft sound of amusement. “Of course I’ll have moments when I want to cry. I’m not some immortal being — I have feelings, the whole range of human emotions. How could I possibly go my whole life without ever crying?”

Jiang Yan thought about it and realized his question had been rather foolish. He sighed lightly. “Fine. Next time you feel like crying, come tell me.”

Even if I can’t bear to see you cry, it’s worse to think of you crying alone somewhere. I’d rather be there with you.

“They say falling in love cuts your intelligence in half.” Lin Tao hooked her fingers through his. “I used to doubt that, but looking at you now, I believe it.”

“……”

The singing in the classroom wound down. Hu Hanghang set the cake on the lectern and plunged headfirst into Teacher Yu’s arms. “Teacher Yu! Happy birthday!”

Teacher Yu seemed to come back to himself then. He laughed warmly and patted Hu Hanghang on the back, then looked out at everyone and started murmuring, “You kids, all of you……”

Some things couldn’t be put into words. They could only be kept inside, locked behind the lips.

Xu Yichuan smiled and called out, “Teacher Yu! I know that when love is in the heart it’s hard to speak — you don’t have to say anything. We all understand. Just go ahead and make your wish and blow out the candles! At this rate, they’re nearly burned out!”

“That’s right, make a wish!” Hu Hanghang let go of Teacher Yu and stepped back.

Teacher Yu stepped back to stand in front of the lectern. After a brief silence, he lowered his head and blew out the candles. The instant the flames went out, the classroom lights came back on.

The boys clapped and cheered.

Someone said, “Teacher Yu, you’re really not being fair to us — having a birthday without saying a word. If Hu Hanghang hadn’t happened to overhear, we’d probably have made it all the way to graduation without ever knowing when your birthday was.”

“Exactly, you’ve been our teacher for two years, right? Actually, I’ve been with you since freshman year, so that’s three years.” Liu Sheng said. “The way you kept this secret is really something.”

Teacher Yu looked at everyone with a warm smile. “A birthday is nothing major — no need for all this fuss. It wasn’t that I was intentionally hiding it from you. The past two birthdays just happened to fall during winter break, so my family and I celebrated at home.”

“Good thing it fell during the school term this year,” Xu Yichuan said.

“Yes, indeed.” Teacher Yu smiled.

Lin Tao smiled and asked, “Teacher Yu, what did you wish for just now?”

“Promotion and fortune?” Jiang Yan interjected.

“You child.” Teacher Yu looked at him with an even wider smile, the fine lines around his eyes crinkling, his expression kind and gentle. “At my age, I don’t bother with such worldly wishes. My only wish right now is for each and every one of you to sail through the college entrance exam and get into the school you want, to do the things you want to do.”

At the mention of the college entrance exam, the cheerful atmosphere that had filled the room fell suddenly quiet.

“The college entrance exam is a contest of endurance. As long as you hold on, no matter the outcome, you will have won.” Teacher Yu let out a quiet sigh. “I’ve guided many graduating classes. I’ve seen more than a few students lose their nerve right before the exam. The exam matters enormously, but it doesn’t determine everything.”

“Only you can determine everything. Only you can decide what kind of person you become.”