When it came to unreasonable behaviors like cheating, Cheng Wanyue was more skilled.
The night Zhou Heng moved out, he said something to Qing Hang—that only in the past few months had Qing Hang started to seem like a real person.
It wasn’t that Qing Hang only cared about medical developments; he also knew how much peppers and garlic cost per pound at the supermarket. Zhou Heng wasn’t saying that Qing Hang had pretended to be high-minded before, but rather that he was now more vivid.
No one is perfect, no gold is pure.
In one’s twenties, who doesn’t experience negative emotions?
People worry about gains and losses, feel jealous, sometimes endure silently, and sometimes act wildly. It’s like many sharp gears gradually assembling into a smooth surface. Because of Cheng Wanyue, Qing Hang revealed sides of himself that were extremely inconsistent with his original image, piecing together his complete self.
Not only Zhou Heng, but everyone around Qing Hang felt he had changed.
But only Cheng Wanyue knew that this was truly him.
Qing Hang leaned against the wall with Cheng Wanyue kneeling on his lap. The autumn night was a bit cool, but his body was warm. She slipped her hand under his shirt, and it quickly warmed up.
After considering for a few minutes, she said, “Fine, I’m magnanimous enough to let you win this time. What do you want?”
“First, I want to apologize to you.”
“Apologize?”
Qing Hang knew she was tired. She had changed all her previous chaotic living habits. Except for some unexpected situations, her daily routine was quite regular—she ate breakfast, didn’t stay up late, played fewer games, and though her diet wasn’t 100% healthy, she only indulged occasionally when craving something.
Yan Ci had mentioned that her health was poor, and Cheng Yanqing had also said that she was in very bad shape when she was ill.
“Eight years ago, when you told me on the phone that you were sick, I didn’t believe you.”
Her hand, which had been moving around under his shirt, stopped. Qing Hang felt her mood change. She was already unhappy about losing her earring.
Qing Hang nuzzled her forehead with his chin, his palm gently caressing her back. “I’m sorry.”
“11:06 PM,” Cheng Wanyue checked the time on her phone. “Before this moment, I hadn’t forgiven you.”
If something that had always bothered you became easy to let go of, it meant that person was no longer important.
“I was quite angry at the time, but later I realized I had indeed used illness as an excuse to deceive you many times before. The story of the boy who cried wolf is in elementary school textbooks. That time you didn’t believe me, was it because you were disappointed in me? I’m the youngest in my family. They all dote on me. Whatever I wanted, I got. When things come too easily, you don’t learn to cherish them.”
“I thought you would never leave.”
“I also thought you would never bear to part with me and would come back to find me.”
Qing Hang had been admitted to university without taking the college entrance exam. After he left Baicheng, he didn’t completely disappear from Cheng Wanyue’s world. Classmates around her would mention his name just when she was about to forget him.
Every year, he transferred money to Cheng Guo’an’s account.
Cheng Wanyue was the one using that bank card. Cheng Guo’an would tell her whenever he received a text message from the bank.
Even though Cheng Yanqing had been studying in Beijing for the past few years, he never mentioned Qing Hang in front of her.
“A’Yu and Cheng Yuzhou’s wedding photos were taken at Baicheng No. 1 High School. I went back too. The weather was particularly nice that day. In the evening, the sunset’s glow covered the entire playground. The school looked incredibly beautiful. Guess what I saw?”
Qing Hang didn’t miss any of her expressions. He asked softly, “What did you see?”
Cheng Wanyue smiled. “I saw our names on the confession wall on the rooftop terrace of Building 3.”
Building 3 at Baicheng No. 1 High School housed the library, the music classroom, and the art studio. Art students often had classes in Building 3, and when the school held events, students would usually rehearse there.
The door to the rooftop terrace had been locked for a period, but after new safety railings were installed, the teachers unlocked it again.
That white wall wasn’t originally a confession wall; it was a wish wall.
Many students had written their wishes on the wall. Later, when there was no space left in the lower areas, someone brought a ladder to reach higher.
At that age, wishes weren’t about houses or cars.
So the rooftop terrace of Building 3 gradually filled with confessions that teenagers dared not speak aloud.
As one class of students graduated, the next class would come to the school. Initially, the wall seemed very large, but later it became too small. Some secrets left by people were too old and were eventually covered up.
On the day of the wedding photo shoot, Cheng Wanyue got bored waiting and climbed to the rooftop to watch the sunset. She had originally intended to find Zhou Yu and Cheng Yuzhou’s names, but unexpectedly saw her own.
The characters were carved into the wall, then traced over with a pen many times. Even after eight years, though the color had faded, one could still make out the three characters: “Cheng Wanyue.”
If it had only been her name, she certainly wouldn’t have guessed who wrote it.
But beside it were two more characters: “Qing Hang.”
In middle school, Cheng Wanyue had been the tallest girl in her class. By her sophomore year in high school, she was still 165 cm tall.
He seemed to have calculated it, carving their names at a height where she could just see them.
Only names, nothing else.
Qing Hang’s wish was her; the person he confessed to was her.
“That night, I had insomnia. When I couldn’t sleep, I kept thinking about you. I wondered what you looked like now—whether you’d gotten thinner or gained weight. I wondered if you had a girlfriend, or… were already married. Many of our high school classmates are already married, and some even have children. Qing Hang, didn’t you ever think that I might have married someone else, too?”
After a long while, he said, “I’ve dreamed about it.”
On the day of the college entrance exam, they all gathered at Grandma Cheng’s house for dinner. Even Yan Ci was there, with only Qing Hang absent. At that time, Yan Ci was in a terrible state, but he acted well. He didn’t look at Zhou Yu all night but would still laugh when Cheng Yanqing talked about old times. Cheng Yanqing had videos of Cheng Wanyue and Zhou Yu performing as the “Calabash Brothers” during an elementary school Children’s Day celebration, saying he would play them on a loop on a big screen when they got married.
Cheng Wanyue was contemptuous of that embarrassing history. She didn’t plan on getting married anyway.
Indeed, before Qing Hang asked her if she wanted to wear a wedding dress, she had never thought about getting married.
“People change. Maybe on an impulse, I would have just gone and registered for marriage. Cheng Yanqing used to like Qin Hua so much. He was very sad after they broke up, but then he met Huo Zhi. See? He could fall in love with someone new, so why wouldn’t I consider marriage? Qing Hang, why didn’t you contact me all these years? Weren’t you afraid I’d marry someone else? I never changed my phone number. Why didn’t you call me?”
“…I did call.”
When Qing Hang first came to Beijing, he couldn’t afford rent, let alone his grandfather’s medical expenses. Earning money through part-time jobs was too slow, so he sold alcohol at nightclubs.
Selling alcohol wasn’t that simple. If you sold little, you wouldn’t make much money.
To sell more, you had to drink with the customers.
Alcohol is a poison that penetrates the intestines. That small bit of humble self-respect couldn’t withstand the surge of longing after drinking.
Winters in Beijing are particularly cold. It was snowing that night.
Qing Hang stood at a street corner with traffic passing by and dialed that familiar number, but all he heard was a mechanical voice: “Sorry, the number you have dialed is powered off.”